//------------------------------// // 1. The Sun Rises // Story: Secret Agent, Codename "Smarty Pants" // by heponas //------------------------------// The halls of the royal castle were dark and deathly silent. Every once in a while, the silence would be broken by the stomping of hooves and clattering of armor as a stallion made his nightly rounds, accompanied by intermittent yawns. It was always spooky this time of night, when every shadow seemed to stretch and morph like some terrible creature stalking him through the dark. But he’d learned to ignore that. He’d even learned to ignore that occasional feeling of being watched. Then — a sound. His ears perked up as he glanced around in every direction. He could’ve sworn he heard the familiar skidding of hooves against the smooth tiled floor, but this portion of the castle was supposed to be empty at this hour. He had only his lantern light to guide him, with sheer darkness just a few meters beyond, the kind of blackness that looked perfect for some horrible spirit to come leaping out of. Naturally, he decided it’d be wisest not to investigate the mysterious sound, instead opting to keep walking in the other direction and pretend he never heard it. He could deal with intruders, but ghosts were above his pay grade! Once he was out of earshot, a small creature trotted out from a hallway behind him… well, it’d be more accurate to say it’d been thrown. But it was no ghost; rather, it was a measly little hand stitched doll, resembling some sort of tiny grey horse with button eyes and polka dot pants. It laid limply for a moment, before a vibrant lavender glow encompassed it, and a telekinetic force lifted it to its feet. Emerging from the hallway behind it came a purple-furred little filly, her horn glowing and a huge smile on her face. She puppeteered the puppet’s every movement, making it sneak through the darkened hall like some sort of super spy, tip-toeing across the tiled floor and checking for guards around every corner. Both doll and filly were able to sneak past every sleepy guard they came across with relative ease, strategically rolling past one and crawling along the ceiling to evade another. As the plush toy ‘walked’, the filly quietly provided his daring exploits with a fitting soundtrack. “Dun dun dundundun dun dun dundundun, dananaaaa, dananaaa…” Their objective was soon in sight: the entrance to the sleeping area of Princess Celestia herself! But just before it, another guard lazily shuffled about. The filly made her toy quietly slide up behind him… before leaping upwards, smacking its tiny little plush hoof against the back of the guard’s head! “Karate chop!” She called out. The guard barely even felt the attack, but he’d experienced this enough that he knew the drill. Playing along, he slumped over with a little bleh, as if he'd been knocked out. She hurried past his ‘sleeping’ body in triumph, giggling all the while. Celestia’s immense form laid sprawled out across her massive bed, clinging to what little sleep she could get, the only reprieve from her constant busywork. She didn’t have much time before she was awoken — not by a filly’s antics, but rather, by the familiar sound of a violin playing a solemn, slow little tune. “Just five more minutes, I beg of you.” She waved her hoof, trying to silence the noise as if trying to hit snooze on an alarm clock, but the spectacled mare in the corner of her room kept on playing. “Ma’am, with all due respect, you remember what happened last time you slept in,” the mare said in a dry monotone. “The birds’ migratory periods were thrown all out of order. Geese were flying in through ponies’ windows in the middle of winter. And don’t even get me started on the farmers’ unions…” Celestia groaned, kicking off her covers. “Okay, okay. Point taken.” Why had she instructed her royal secretary to wake her with that song every morning? It used to be her favorite song in the world, and now, after years of pavlovian conditioning, it sounded like nails on a chalkboard. She’d never quite gotten used to the combined exhaustion of having to raise both the sun and moon. The rising of the sun went just like it had gone for the past centuries. She stepped out onto her balcony, above a crowd of ponies ooing and aaing over their princess’ impressive stature, mostly tourists who came from all over Equestria just to catch a glimpse of her royal highness. For them, seeing her horn glow and coax the beautiful morning sun into delighting the sky with its hues of orange and yellow was the most impressive feat of magic they’d ever witnessed; for her, it was just another Friday. Her regularly scheduled early morning Pretty Princess Bathtime was much more pleasant. Her chambers may have been humble, but she spared no expense on her bathroom, and dozens of magitechnical engineers pooled their collective expertise into designing the perfect bathtub with every bell and whistle you could imagine, and even a few you can’t. She sighed in relief as her body slunk beneath those warm, bubbly waters, enchanted to auto-adjust to the ideal possible temperature. “My schedule, please.” “Of course, ma’am. Your speaking engagement at a Cots 4 Colts charity event has been postponed until next Wednesday, but you still have a tea time with King Galahad of the griffons scheduled at three. You will be discussing the terms of our nations’ continued cooperation after their regime change last week.” “Another king? I could’ve sworn I had tea with the last one, oh, a few weeks ago,” she complained. “What was his name again, anyway? King Dobedo or something?” ‘Kings’ was a word she used very loosely. She was fairly sure none of them had any proper claim to the throne, mere bickering warlords convinced might alone will earn them the crown. It was a shame to see Griffonstone flounder without any true governance, as all potential rulers were too busy stabbing eachother in the back to provide any real leadership. Not that she’d ever say that aloud. Questioning their authority was certain to lead to yet another geopolitical headache, which was the last thing she needed right now. “King Dolimar, miss. Unfortunately, his reign was short-lived. As it transpired, his wife was actually colluding with his spymaster to collect enough blackmail to force him to abdicate his throne to his brother-in-law, but then it was revealed that said brother-in-law was actually part of a different plot alongside his court chancellor to assemble an army and-” “Please, spare me the court politics. I must confess, I haven’t been able to keep track of their shenanigans since the times of King Guto,” she groaned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She likely wouldn’t even bother to remember this one’s name. Chances were, by next week, he’d be replaced by some other warlord with more confidence than brains. “One of the curses of age, I suppose. You remember the days when things seemed so much simpler.” One of the many curses, she thought to herself. After all, she could’ve sworn her back didn’t used to crack and ache like this when she stood, and she once didn’t have to diet so carefully just to maintain her slim figure. The rest of her morning routine was less fun, particularly the industrial-grade blow dryer she needed to tame that massive, flowing mane of hers. As she readied her deluxe mouthwash, she realized Twilight had completely slipped her mind. An all-too-common occurrence nowadays, she’s afraid. She barely taught the poor foal all week, she'd been so wrapped up in her royal duties. “Now, be a dear and wake up Twilight, would you? I need to-” She was interrupted as the most horrid, bitter taste assailed her the moment the mouthwash touched her tongue! She immediately began retching it all back into the sink, washing off her tongue beneath the faucet. What was this — the brine from a pickle jar? Celestia hated pickles. Why would anyone ever- Suddenly, there came a familiar laugh from one of her bathroom drawers. “Hehehaha!” Sure enough, that mischievous filly popped right out, a triumphant grin on her face and her favorite toy tied to her back like a backpack! “The evil plans of Dr. Sunny Hooves, once again foiled by… Agent Smarty Paaants!” With that, she scampered away, giggling to herself all the while. A silence hung over the room, until Celestia’s secretary spoke. “You know, buying Twilight all of those Con Mane novels may have been… ill-advised,” she said frankly. “Such fantastical works have a tendency to drive a foal’s imagination into overdrive.” Celestia sighed. After all those years of boring textbooks and foal’s novels, getting to read a real book series seemed to fill Twilight with a deep excitement which had been charming at first, but which was quickly becoming unwieldy. “I assumed she could benefit from some more grown-up reading material,” she defended herself with a sheepish shrug. “Besides, flights of fancy are necessary in any foal’s development.” “Not mine,” retorted the stone-faced mare. “When I was a filly, the only book I ever read was Intermediate Managerial Strategies as Pertains to Financial Accounting, and I turned out fine.” Celestia paused. “That… explains a lot, actually.” Soon, Celestia followed along in the hoofprints of the foal, finding Twilight’s bedroom far messier than the fastidious filly had ever let it become before. She seemed to have arranged her mattress, blankets and pillows into some sort of makeshift fort, where her toys were all discussing military operations. At the moment, Mr. Smarty Pants and Ms. Bumble Bee were crowded around a little ‘radio’. “Darn it! Report in, Alpha Squadron! Do you read me?” Twilight lowered her voice as much as she could as she spoke for Smarty Pants. She breathed through her teeth as she imitated the crackling of a radio. “Sir! We’re — krrrrcck — on all sides by griffon commandos — kkkccccchhh — ambush by Magnus Nefarian — kkkrrcchh — not much time!” All the while, she interspersed her speech with little pew pews and even ka-booms in some facsimile of a raging battle. Smartypants slammed his little fists on the table. “Griffon commandos? They don’t stand a chance. I have to go down there myself. It’s their only hope.” Twilight spoke in a high-pitched voice as she shook Ms. Bumble Bee around. “Alone? But that’s certain doom, Agent Smartypants! You’d be outnumbered a hundred to one!” Smartypants twirled Ms. Bumble Bee off her bee-feet, holding her romantically in his plush hooves. “I like those odds.” With that, their faces bumped together in a way that vaguely approximated kissing. “Mwah, mwah, mwah mwah mwah.”  The show was both adorable and disturbing in equal measures. It was time for Celestia to interject. Luckily, the foal was so enveloped in her little game that she was easy to sneak up on. “Boo!” Celestia whispered, eliciting the most adorable little eep! from Twilight as she fell over backwards. Celestia did her best evil laugh as she loomed over her faithful student. “Yes, tis I! The legendary, ahem… Dr. Sunny Hooves! Here to reap my evil vengeance upon Agent Smartypants!” Thinking quickly, Twilight used her magic to hide Smarty Pants behind a nearby dresser. “I won’t tell you where he is! No matter what kind of horrible tortures you come up with! You’ll never get me to talk!” She crossed her forehooves with the most determined look on her face, ready to endure any imaginable torment with limitless strength of will… but all Celestia had to do was lean down and blow a raspberry on her tummy, and she was reduced to a laughing, wriggling, squealing fit! “Noooooaahahahah! Stooop! I’m tickliiish! Hehehah, okay, you win, you wiiin!” Celestia stood with a sly smile as Twilight pouted at her defeat. Judging by the bags under her eyes, Celestia noticed, she couldn’t be getting that much rest. “Now, tell me. Did secret agent Twilight get any sleep last night?” Twilight’s eyes darted around as she shuffled in place, seeming nervous. “Ummm… weelllll… no,” she confessed, “but I’m not tired! Honest! I’m up and-” She was interrupted by a sudden, long yawn, after which she looked downright woozy. Celestia frowned and shook her head. “Oh, dear,” she sighed, leading Twilight towards the bathroom. “Don’t think that that’ll get you out of your studies for today, Twilight. It’s very important that you perfect the fundamentals as soon as you can. A guard of mine accidentally teleported halfway into a concrete wall the other day, and it took hours to finally carve the dreadfully embarrassed fellow free.” “I mean… do we really gotta do the lesson stuff today, though?” Twilight asked. After all, she had only just reached the climactic battle between Con Mane and his ultimate rival, the dastardly, eyepatch-donning griffon terrorist Magnus Nefarian! “I sorta have a few more Con Mane books to read!” Celestia glanced at the pile of books, and saw only a couple had still gone unfinished. How was that possible? There was no way Twilight had read over a million words in the past few days, was there? Had she slept even a wink since her birthday? “You can’t slack on your studies, Twilight. How do you think you’ll get into Secret Agent School without a proper education?” Twilight’s eyes lit up instantly. “Secret Agent School? Is that really a thing?” Celestia neither confirmed nor denied it, but still, Twilight started bouncing up and down! “Okay! Okay! I wanna do lessons! I wanna learn, like, a hundred things today!” Celestia chuckled. “Sounds like a fine idea to me. How about we start with Bathtime 101?” All of Twilight’s youthful optimism deflated like a balloon as she realized she was standing at her bathroom door. She grumbled as she begrudgingly stepped inside. “That’s my least favorite class…” Celestia’s bathtimes were an experience; by contrast, Twilight’s were a struggle. It took far longer than it needed to lather and rinse the squirming, complaining filly, and Celestia invariably ended up just as soaked as Twilight from all the splashing. But as struggles go, it was mercifully brief, and before long Celestia was carefully combing Twilight’s mane out on the balcony, with the birds chirping above them and the beautiful patchwork quilt of the fields and forests of Equestria sprawling out beneath them. It was a beautiful sight, Celestia knew, but such simple beauties were always lost upon the young. She wanted to enjoy her day with Twilight, for it would be their last this week before she returned home to her family for the weekend. But the filly seemed in a bad mood, silent as the princess brushed her hair. Eventually, she spoke softly. “I still don’t know why you want to send me away.” Celestia sighed. A few days ago, Twilight had overheard her discussing plans with her secretary to have Twilight study somewhere far away once she graduated. She could tell that Twilight was the sort who’d stay stuck in her comfort zone forever unless someone else happened to coax her out. Unfortunately, lately, Twilight had gotten this strange idea in her head that she wasn't wanted here, and overhearing that plan had only confirmed it in her mind. Celestia had hoped those birthday gifts would make it up to her, but it seemed she wasn’t so lucky. “I wouldn’t put it like that. I want you to get out and explore. See all things the world has to offer, outside of Canterlot. Try all the great things there are to try. It’ll be a learning experience,” she reassured her, “and besides, that won’t be until many years from now, anyways.” “Why do I gotta do great things? Everything I need to learn about the world, I can find in a book, anyway.” “Because you have so much potential, and it’d be a shame for it to go to waste.” Celestia gestured to a bird’s nest in a tree branch just above them, where a mother was pruning her baby. “Take the bird, for example. Think of all the things it could do with those wings. But the little bird never sees the beautiful sky it could explore. It only sees the ground far beneath — it’s afraid of falling. If the nest is all it knows, it appears there could be nothing worth that risk. But its mother knows of the great big world it will experience, the friends it’ll make, the adventures it’ll have; all things worth taking the leap, and soaring. But if it stays too long in its nest, it will forget that it could ever fly in the first place.” As if on cue, the two birds took off and fluttered away into the morning sun, which Celestia found quite apropos. Twilight wasn’t nearly as impressed. “Yeah, well, maybe I don’t wanna fly,” she grumbled, puffing out her cheeks in a foalish pout. “I like it in Canterlot! I have all my books, and my cool house, and my brother, and you, and… it’s not like I’m ever gonna make any friends better than the ones I already have here, anyway!” She concluded with a decisive little stomp of her forehoof. Celestia only chuckled knowingly. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised, my faithful student,” she said. “Call it a hunch.” — — — — — That afternoon, the castle is approached by a carriage — a surprisingly humble one, too, given the prestige of its sole passenger. A pair of piercing yellow eyes peeked out from the dark interior as the royal castle itself came into view. “So this is it? The castle of a goddess?” A deep, scratchy voice scoffed. “Doesn’t look too impressive to me.” Many of his people would seethe with jealousy at Galahad’s “vacation”, but in all honesty, the king hadn’t enjoyed his time in Equestria in the slightest. Back in Griffonstone, you only smile at friends you are genuinely happy to see, and you only compliment those who’ve truly earned it. But these ponies tend to treat every random stranger they meet as if they’ve been friends for years, greeting them with gratuitous flattery and those big, creepy smiles. They called it ‘hospitality’, but to the naturally suspicious king, it just made the equines look like a gang of nansy pansy flank-kissers trying to butter him up. One thing he did like about ponies: behind those fake smiles, they always had a faint fear in their eyes whenever he was looming over them. He was a massive, imposing warlord, after all, who’d perfected his body through constant training and honed his mind through years of combat experience. He was old enough to sport a few grey feathers intermingled amidst his vibrantly brown coat, and his body was riddled with scars from countless campaigns, most notably the eyepatch he sported. Griffons — hulking avians with knives for talonss and steel vices for beaks — were already scary enough, but he made the rest of his kind look like a bunch of weaklings by comparison. Yet, to his credit, one of the stallions pulling his cart still worked up the courage to give him a tip of his hat as he stepped out of the cart. “Castle’s right up ahead, your majesty,” the stallion said with a smile, “and may I say, we are all absolutely delighted to have you here in Equestria!” Galahad froze in place, and a sudden shiver went up the stallion’s spine, as if he realized he’d just said something horribly, horribly wrong. “Okay, that’s it. That’s the thousandth time I’ve heard that empty platitude in a single day. There’s only so much I can take!” Galahad turned, veiling the equine in his shadow, the stallion looking like a pathetic, whimpering colt compared to him. “Allow me to ask you something, ‘friend’. Are you really delighted to see me? Did you even know what my name was before the last day or so? Were you quaking with excitement the moment you heard I’d landed in Equestria? Or were you just kissing up to me out of some vain notion of ‘politeness’?” The stallion was too frightened to even think straight. Passersby watched helplessly, knowing that the massive griffon could easily tear the poor guy to pieces if he provoked his temper. “Umm… I… uhhh…” “Better question, actually. Do you ponies even know what honesty is? All fake smiles, fake laughs, ‘nice to meet you’s and ‘pleasure is all mine’s. Has a single honest word ever come out of your mouth? Have you ever told anybody what you really think about them?” His tone, starting out, was one of restrained anger, but it gradually built until he was full-on shouting in the stallion’s ear. “Go on. I want to hear you try to be honest. Come on, do it. You know what you want to say! Say it! Be honest for once in your miserable little life!” It didn’t take long for the overwhelmed stallion to reach his breaking point. “I-I hate you, and I hate this job!” He screamed. “I only work here because I dropped out of high school! Truth is, I hate every single customer!” After his outcry, the griffon leaned back with a blank expression, and the stallion looked anxiously up at him. “There — are you happy!?” After a moment’s pause, the griffon began to… laugh? “Ahaha! Now there’s the honesty I like to see! So you ponies really are capable!” Galahad’s booming laughter filled the city street as he gave the stallion a big pat on the back, the pony letting out a sigh of relief. For a moment, the atmosphere relaxed… and then, out of nowhere, the griffon grabbed the stallion by the neck, pressing his back against the smooth cart! The stallion whimpered as the griffon leaned in close, whispering in the most terrifying, low voice he’d ever heard. “Feel lucky we’re standing on Equestrian soul, you imprudent fool. If this were Griffonstone, I’d have your head for daring to insult a king.” With that, he finally let the stallion flop to the ground, scared, sore, and most of all, confused. “What… but… I… you said…” He stuttered, wondering just what he’d done wrong as the griffon stomped angrily away. The truth? King Galahad had only been messing with the poor fellow, both for his own amusement and as a way of making sure all the other service staff and their stupid grins and false pleasantries would keep far away and not annoy him — and, judging by the nervous glances the other staff were exchanging, it worked like a charm The interior of the castle, too, failed to impress him. The sleek staircases and marble floors emanated sophistication and culture, sure, but where was the might? Where were the passionate, fiery reds, the military banners, the memorials to great heroes felled in battle? Castle foyers, he figured, should humble guests, not welcome them; all he could imagine was how cleanly a cannonball would cut through these thin walls. At least Princess Celestia’s entrance had the right idea — she emerged from atop the staircase looking down upon him, as if to make her guest feel small beneath her. “King Galahad,” she greeted in that smooth, velvety voice. “Allow me to be the first to say how delighted we are to have you here.” He laughed. “Oh, if only you were the first.” He stomped up the stairs, squinting as he sized her up. “Princess of the sun, is it? I’ve heard a lot about you. I have to admit, I always imagined you looking a bit more… imposing.” She tilted her head. “Ah? Is that so? Well, aheh, I try not to look too intimidating. Better to rule with love than fear, as they say.” King Galahad scoffed at that, as she knew he would. Just as his beak parted to mock her sentiment, though, an unexpected interloper stumbled into the foyer. There stood Twilight Sparkle, staring up at her the look of a foal who’d just learned what the word ‘disappointment’ truly meant for the first time. After driving herself mad staying awake night after night pouring over every read in the entire series, she’d used her free time today to finally make it to the very end, only to come to one horrifying realization: the series ended on a cliffhanger! And judging by the release dates, the author had no intention of continuing. That was the sort of brutal reality that Twilight’s young mind just wasn’t ready to cope with. “Celestia, you’ve gotta pass a law that all authors hafta finish their-” She begged, only for her eyes to bug out when she noticed Galahad. “Wh-who’s…?” Beneath her poker face, Celestia’s eye twitched, almost imperceptibly. Please just act normal, Twilight. Now of all times, I beg of you, she mentally pleaded. “Oh! If it isn’t my faithful student. Say hello to King Galahad, Twilight, he came all the way from Griffonstone just to meet us here.” Galahad looked down sternly on the scrawny, wimpy little unicorn filly. “Good afternoon, ‘Twilight’,” he said. No response. Twilight just stared up at him, bug-eyed, like a deer frozen in a pair of headlights. The uncomfortable silence dragged on and on. “Uuuh, is she… mute?” Behind that blank stare, a deep, existential horror was filling the filly’s mind. The hulking griffin, the grey feathers, the scars, the eyepatch — every last detail, exactly as Magnus Nefarian had been described. The same Magnus Nefarian who stroked a white cat on his lap as he threatened to execute Con Mane with a laser right up main street. The same Magnus Nefarian who killed Con Mane’s marefriend in Con Mane #14: The Spy Who Saddled Me. The same Magnus Nefarian who’d tormented the hero for over a million words and counting… and here he was, standing right in front of her. It seemed impossible, but to the filly’s severely sleep-deprived mind, there was no other explanation. “He’s… he’s real!” She suddenly screamed! The two leaders watched, dumbfounded, as Twilight took off springing down the hall in a fit of panic. “He’s real! Everypony! He’s real! Run for your lives!” They both stood in a dazed silence as Twilight’s cries faded into the distance. Celestia had to resist the urge to smash her own face through the nearest window.  “Your ‘student’, hmm?” A smirk crept over Gallahad’s beak. “I must say, if that is the highest caliber of citizen you can raise, I am sorely disappointed.” Celestia may have looked completely calm, but on the inside, she had to bite her tongue to keep herself from screaming. Did Twilight really have to choose now, of all times, to go crazy? She swallowed her temper. “Well, I hate to disappoint,” she tried to change the subject as they continued down the hall, “but our citizens notwithstanding, I assure you that our tea, at least, won’t fail to impress.” “Oh, yes. I’ve heard the tea here in Canterlot is the best in all the world,” he said. “That’s why I won’t be having a single drop of it.” Celestia had to do a double-take at that. It was so absurd, but he said it so matter-of-factly. “I beg your pardon?” He rolled his eyes. “Come on, princess, we all know how this works. You butter up all your guests with your unbelievable tea, and before you know it, they’re in such a good mood they’ll sign pretty much any treaty you put in front of ‘em.” He stomped his talons against the shiny floor. “Well, I ain’t falling for it!” Drats. He’s… actually not far off the mark there, she thought to herself. She’d been hoping her tea would rein in that fiery temper of his. It felt like the stars themselves were aligning to make her day as difficult as it could possibly get. Things are only getting worse and worse, she thought bitterly as she stepped into the conference room at last. This meeting is going to be a disaster… If only she knew how right she was. For poor Twilight, it felt like her whole reality had been turned upside down. After all those nights of ceaseless reading, each page began to blur into the next; then, each novel; and now, the entire series was blurring with reality itself. Her brain begged her to finally sleep, but she resisted stubbornly. She had important work to do! Princess Celestia was in more danger than she could possibly imagine! And she only knew one agent worthy of such a dire task. “Agent Smarty Pants, this may be your most important mission yet,” she whispered to the stuffed doll sitting across from her on her bedroom floor as she laid out her plans. "The whole fate of Equestria rests on your shoulders…”