Twilight lay awake a minute or two, running through it all in her head. Part of her didn't even want to…didn't want to really believe it, wanted just to dismiss it as…well…as a bad dream. She resolved to find out.
She climbed out of bed and made her way downstairs. The book awaited her on its stand. She began by turning to the back and the photo of the author: a green stallion.
No good. She could've seen his picture by mistake at some point or other. She needed something else, something more substantial.
She found another book, one from a series of encyclopedias on prominent authors and scanned the index of works until she found See the Colt!, then paged through to the entry on its author. She saw his picture again, information about his work and his publisher, and then his biography.
It detailed his life in Manehatten and his struggles with poverty, the difficulty he'd had getting published and a promise he'd made to his significant other that they would marry, but not until he had the means to support their life. It also had a picture of the apartment he'd lived in while writing his breakout work, See the Colt!—the bed, the table, and the desk where she'd sat, all of it exactly as she remembered.
Satisfied she'd proven her case to herself, Twilight closed the book.
The door to the library opened and closed behind her; she turned and saw Spike, laden with groceries.
"Finally," he said. "I was starting to wonder if you were ever gonna get up. Late night, huh? Bet you were trying that spell again." He wandered past her toward the kitchen. "I went to the market already. I'll get started on lunch."
A second later, it registered: lunch.
How long had she…?
Applejack.
As if on cue, a knock came on the door.
Spike poked his head out of the kitchen, chef hat and tiny apron in full glory. "Are we expecting company?"
Twilight looked around quickly, unsure of what to do. Then she trotted up to the door and opened it. What else could she do?
Applejack greeted her with a smile, camping gear on her back. "Howdy." Right away, she noticed something amiss. "Everything all right, there, Twi? Lookin' at me like my mane done turned blue or somethin'."
Twilight shook away her thoughts, setting course. "I'm sorry, Applejack, but I'm going to have to cancel lunch." She hollered back at the kitchen. "Spike, I'm going to Canterlot! Watch the library!"
"Canterlot?" Spike asked. "W— Should I make dinner? When will you be back?"
"As soon as I can!"
Applejack moved aside as Twilight stepped out and shut the door, on her way to the train station. The farm pony trotted alongside her, totally lost. "Uh…sugarcube?"
"I have to see the princess," Twilight said, determined.
"Can I ask why?"
"Sorry, but I don't really have time t—"
Applejack planted herself firmly in Twilight's path, halting her. "Now, listen here. You're actin' like a spooked rabbit. I don't know what's goin' on, but I have every intention of findin' out. And after everythin' we done talked about last night, I expect you're gonna tell me. Right now."
Twilight gave in with a sigh. "All right. But can we just—?" She gestured forward. "I'm kind of in a hurry."
Applejack stepped in line beside her, and as they made their way to the station, Twilight explained her night following their campfire session.
"So you see I have to talk to the princess. I don't really…know what's happening, but if it's what it sounds like, it could be—"
"Real bad…" Applejack said gravely. "Don't ya reckon we oughtta get the others? You know, in case you-know-who—"
"I don't think that'll happen. She talked about being cleansed."
"All right, but cleansed or not, what if Princess Luna decides to—"
"I doubt the elements would have any effect on her anymore anyway. There's nothing…nothing bad in her."
"Bad?" Applejack asked. "Who ever said—?"
"I know. When we use the elements, I can feel it when they channel through me. They…attack— No, that's not the right word. They…react with the…imbalance? Negativity? No. The…"
"I think I get yer meanin'."
"Inside the target as a catalyst. Without that, I don't think it would be anything more than a light show. Take…Fluttershy, for example," Twilight pulled a hypothetical out of the air. "If we somehow used the elements on her, I don't think anything would happen. There's nothing in her for them to react with."
"And you're sayin' there ain't nothin' in Princess Luna, either," Applejack caught on.
"No, she's just…I don't know." Twilight remembered Luna's eyes just before the end of their encounter, and the sadness in her voice. "But she isn't bad."
"All right, Twi. I trust ya," Applejack deferred to her judgment.
They got to the station, luckily enough, just as the Canterlot train pulled in and ground slowly to a stop. Twilight boarded, Applejack right behind her. She looked at her friend.
"Like I was really gonna let ya tackle this rodeo by yourself," she said in response to Twilight's confusion. She smiled. "Besides, if ya stay longer than yer plannin' and they don't want me trackin' no dirt inside, I'm already prepared." She adjusted her camping gear.
Twilight managed a smile at the ridiculous suggestion.
They took their seats. A short time later, the trained left the station bound for Canterlot. Applejack spent the trip in thought, brow level, eyes stern. Twilight watched out through the window as the scenery blurred by, still stuck in that moment the night before––Luna's eyes, her voice, the…resignation. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't put it out of her mind.
The train arrived in Canterlot, and Twilight wasted no time in heading straight for the palace, Applejack right behind her. A guard met them at the gate and left to alert the princess to their arrival and request for an audience. Meanwhile, she and Applejack were allowed inside.
They passed the library, and an idea came to Twilight; she filed it away, maybe for later.
"Twilight Sparkle, my faithful student, and Applejack. What a wonderful surprise." Celestia approached them from a nearby hallway. Like Applejack before her, she noticed immediately. "Twilight, you look worried. Is something the matter?"
About to blurt everything out right then and there, Twilight caught herself and decided against it. "Yes, Princess. Could we maybe…talk somewhere more…private?"
Celestia suddenly became concerned, and much more interested. "Certainly."
Celestia bid them follow, and they did, to her private chambers. Sunlight streamed in through sets of window arches––wide and nearly floor-to-ceiling––which adorned the entire far wall. A long table sat in center, a desk off to the side, and a large doorway at the opposite end which, Twilight knew, led to Celestia's bedchamber. White and gold, the décor of the room caught the light and seemed to glow.
Celestia sat near one of the windows, her mane shimmering in the light. "Applejack, please. Set down your things. Rest."
Applejack did just that.
"Now, Twilight. Tell me what troubles you."
Once again, Twilight took a breath and recapped the events of late. As she did, she watched Celestia's expression change from interest, to understanding, until it too became troubled, though noticeably less worried than hers.
Celestia hung her head in thought; she breathed a quiet sigh. "I see. I wish she had not spoken to you of such things."
Twilight raised a hoof slightly, taken aback. "Then it's true," she realized, talking almost to herself. "About you."
Celestia looked at Twilight with a smile as soft as morning. "You needn't worry, Twilight. Not about that. All is as it should be."
"But you—!"
"Trust, my student," Celestia interrupted her gently, waiting until Twilight's posture relaxed some. "Have faith." She spoke to Applejack as well. "Both of you. Do not worry."
For a few moments, the room fell silent, Twilight doing her best to follow her mentor's advice. She fought hard, wrapped what Luna had said in her teacher's soothing words and swallowed them, placing her trust in Celestia like she always had before. Applejack, she imagined, did the same, though the farm pony had hidden any reaction so far much better than she had.
At last, Twilight doubled back to the more pressing concern. "What about Princess Luna?"
Celestia's smile disappeared; she looked away in thought. "That is another matter entirely, I'm afraid… I do worry about Luna…"
"Where is she now? Could we talk to her?" asked Twilight.
"Doubtful, my student. She sequesters herself in her chambers. Even I rarely see her."
Twilight shook her head quickly, like it didn't add up. "But you're…you. Couldn't you just—?"
"I could, if I so chose. And then? If I wish, I may force her to see me, but I may not force her to speak."
Twilight conceded the point. "Still… Could we—? I mean, couldn't we at least…?"
Celestia smiled again. "I will inform her that you wish to speak with her. I doubt she will be swayed in her seclusion, but you are more than welcome to stay here and wait for as long as you like," she spoke to both of them. "Is that all right?"
"Of course, Princess." Twilight bowed; Applejack did the same.
"I'll go to her now," said Celestia. "I'll also inform the guards that you are to be given rooms at your request."
"Thank you, Princess."
Celestia left, and Applejack breathed a sigh of relief. "Sorry for not sayin' much back there, sugarcube, but…you know me and, uh…etiquette. Figured I'd go ahead and let you do the talkin'. Reckon it's like you thought, though. Even got the princess on edge…"
Twilight affirmed silently, thinking.
"Take it we're stickin' around awhile, then."
Twilight looked at her friend. "We? What about the farm?"
Applejack nodded. "I'll take a train back to Ponyville, get everythin' squared away, then meet ya back here. Reckon we shouldn't hear from her before then. Sound okay?"
"Yeah. Just… Just don't tell anyone. Tell anyone there's a problem with Princess Luna, and they'll go straight to… There's no sense causing a panic."
"Roger that. I'll just tell 'em I'm out here helpin' ya with somethin' and I don't know no details more than that."
"That sounds good. I'll probably be in the library. We passed it on the way in. Do you remember how to get there?"
"I'll find it." Applejack hauled up her camping gear and started off. "Back in a bit."
"See you later," Twilight said absentmindedly, lost in thought trying to figure out what she would even say to Luna if they did get to talk. She felt like…like she had to say something, but…
Coltfriend issues.
Marefriend issues.
Personal issues.
Sure, fine. Not a problem. But this… How could she…? How could anypony…?
She imagined that was probably Celestia's trouble with the whole thing, and Luna's too.
But Celestia, at least Celestia was on the same playing field, on the same level.
Meanwhile, anything she said on the subject could've only ever sounded like a filly giving magical advice to Starswirl the Bearded. Put in Luna's place, she might've even found it insulting.
Maybe if she knew more, she decided. And she knew just how to do that. Not that she considered it a particularly good idea, especially considering her relative unfamiliarity with those aspects of the spell, but the way she saw it, she really didn't have any other options. Not really. Not if she really wanted to know, to understand where Luna had come from, what she'd lost, who she'd been.
Ready to give it a shot, she made her way to the library, past the introductory and basic levitation sections, through the important figures archives and back, back into the stacks. Dust free because of the palace's cleaning staff, the books rested on bowing shelves, practically stuck together because of their infrequent use. Not that they weren't important; they were just outdated, and any useful information they contained could've also been found in more recent, more complete works.
However, it wasn't the information she wanted.
Past the stacks, Twilight continued down a set of winding stairs to the library's innermost sanctum: an open, circular room with one tiny table and lined on all sides with compartments designed to store scrolls, magically protected to ensure the climate didn't damage the ancient works. Most ponies wouldn't even have been allowed access through the barrier.
Most ponies.
She, however, went about searching the different sections and scrolls. Many of their authors since lost to time, she knew at least a few had been written by Celestia herself, around the time of the unification when proper laws had first been established. Considering their relationship at that time––sisters––she imagined that if Celestia had written some, then…
The only trouble was there was no way of knowing. About the best she could do was find the section that contained the original laws, pull out all the scrolls, and start going through them one-by-one. So she did.
Nervously, she levitated the first scroll down from its compartment near the ceiling and set it carefully on the table. She'd spent a good portion of the train ride contemplating the spell and what had happened at the end of her last attempt. All she really needed to do was be ready for it, and of course, if she could, learn to manipulate it further––slow it down and ease her way in so that she could get a look around without having to wait for it to dissolve in her mind while she slept.
She took a moment to prepare herself; it wouldn't work if she didn't calm down. Breathing…heart rate…clarity…once she was ready, she summoned her focus and let it reach out to the scroll. The information wormed its way into her mind––the unification of Equestria, formal declarations of territories, concessions, stipulations, the establishment of the Canterlot capital––and gradually she felt it getting closer to the end. She even prided herself on it a little, how fast she'd picked up what she'd come to call the data phase after her first success. After getting the basic pattern down last night, it became relatively simple now, at least at the speed she was maintaining.
Then the end, and she braced herself for what came next, steadying her mind and strengthening her focus to defend against the initial—
Wham.
Light and sound, flash and bang and she lost it, recoiled and put a foreleg up like somepony had literally flashed a light at her.
Much more powerful than before. Much stronger. Much…
Much.
All right… At least she'd learned something: the intensity of the resulting post-acquisition could vary based on some mitigating factors, though she couldn't really say what those were. It may've been that emotion surrounding the writing of the scroll far surpassed that of See the Colt! which she was sure it did. Or it may've just been that the princesses left much stronger impressions by default, which meant it would vary depending on the character of the pony responsible for it.
Either way, if See the Colt! had been an explosion, this time…
That scroll…
The word cataclysm came to mind.
When she tried to recall it, she couldn't even be sure she'd managed to get anything at all or if it had been like trying to ram a boulder through a door. She considered her comparison briefly and found at least one thing she could be thankful for: At least she hadn't broken.
She hadn't considered that, that it might actually be dangerous for her. If the information did come all at once, the shock to her mind, at least from something of this magnitude, may've actually…
But she felt all right. Not at first, maybe. Not at the point of contact during the hit, but…she couldn't feel any damage now.
Still, she resolved to be more careful, if she could figure out how.
After some time to recover, she tried again––and failed, again. One or two attempts later and she decided to start smaller; jumping right to official records written by the princesses probably had been a little ambitious. She went back upstairs, found a small biography on one of her favorite authors, long deceased, and went to work practicing.
* * *
Hours later and A.J. still hadn't come back, which was all right; Twilight kept herself plenty busy. Not a minute went by that she didn't spend slowly but surely becoming more adept at her spell. A few tries on it, and she finally realized her mistake, the one miscalculated number that kept throwing off the whole equation.
The data phase quickly became second nature. At the speed she used, once she understood the ins and outs of working it properly, she didn't even have to think about it anymore. It required her attention, certainly––cataloguing the new information, pacing the rate at which it came in––but her mind worked it like the hooves of a practiced seamstress, feeling it out without a thought.
It amazed her, actually, to think that not a day before it had seemed so impossible. But she supposed, many things probably would've seemed impossible, gone about entirely the wrong way like she'd been doing––eating without chewing, for instance. One step and suddenly it all became simple.
The post-phase, however, she found to be an entirely different beast altogether. Where the data phase required her active input, the post-phase was completely the opposite. She needed to tune out, zone out as far as she could, almost to the point of daydreaming, to leave her mind open enough to properly receive the transfer. She needed to clear the pool, so to speak, so that the incoming transfer had enough room to dilute and spread out.
Once she did that, it all opened up. The diluted information filled her mind and almost did feel like a daydream, except much more foreign. After some more practice, she even managed to separate herself from the entity perspective, as she called it: the perspective of the pony through whose eyes she was seeing. She broke free and found she could move, watch scenes from different angles and wander a bit, although she did occasionally hit blank spots.
She even found that she could go deeper.
She could push herself from the active memory received from the book into the entity perspective itself. It had astounded her at first––families, wants, and dreams, hopes, fears, and memories. She could sift through them all. At least, to an extent. Strong memories. Powerful feelings. Vivid things, she could see.
Once she realized that, she developed a much better understanding of what Luna had meant by implications. The potential for invading privacy…she couldn't even imagine. There wasn't a scale, wasn't a word for that kind of violation if used irresponsibly. Likewise, it gave her a certain level of pride, that she'd been entrusted with it, to use it well.
And she would.
Finally ready––she hoped––head pounding, she proceeded back downstairs to the scroll repository and prepared herself. She dare not probe into Princess Celestia, or anything else unwarranted for that matter, so she readied at a moment's notice to sever the connection and look no further if it became apparent that the scroll wasn't the one she needed.
With that in mind, she focused and began.
The data phase came and went, and she let her mind fall away as empty as she could. Not nearly as painful this time, it came to her, a thump of images and sounds; her mind wandered. She saw herself writing the scroll, glimpsed her white coat, and severed the connection immediately.
Wrong scroll. On to the next.
One more, two more, four more, eight––she continued one-by-one, each time Celestia or some scribe, advisor, or confidant. And then finally, probing a scroll on the advancement of royal guard ranks, she caught sight of Luna's reflection in a mirror across from her.
She broke her alignment with the entity perspective and moved out so she could see. Luna stood writing the scroll, alone in a large conference room of some kind. Twilight noted her armor: not unlike Nightmare Moon's, although more fitted to her smaller form. She stood with a regal posture, back and neck straight, with the eyes of a soldier, confident and assured.
Twilight took a breath and dove in for the next part, the really important part, the part she hoped would let her better understand Luna's position so maybe she could be more prepared to try to help her. She focused in on the entity perspective, pried her way in, and started sifting.
She didn't have to look long.
More powerful than anything she'd encountered in practicing earlier, Luna's most vivid memories lashed out at her. Rather than look for them, she had to almost fight them off so she could get at them one at a time.
She let one swallow her and found herself back in the astral abyss. As quickly as she could, she detached herself from Luna and moved out to see. When she did, she saw Luna alone against the dark, mane and tail flowing freely, eyes ahead, transfixed. And then she saw why.
From the darkness congealed a veritable army of shadows––nightmares, Twilight assumed––barely perceptible against it, large and small, all manner of sizes and grotesque, amputated shapes. The scurried and lumbered and dragged themselves toward her, an amorphous black mass.
Luna raised her chin; they stopped, tiny blue eyes popping open curiously at the strange creature that impeded them.
The dark alicorn spoke in the full, booming royal Canterlot voice that seemed to carry clear on into the void. "Thou knowest us, creatures of the abyss. We are Luna, Princess of Equestria, keeper and embodiment of thy home the night. Often have we spoken with thee of thy nightly torments against our subjects, but the time for speaking endeth tonight. We wish thou no harm but have pled with thee in the past and do beseech thee now, one final time: Return whence thou comest. Return, or we will rebuke any further advances without restraint. Thou art warned."
A moment's pause, and one of the nightmares rushed for her, arms flailing, claws dragging its legless half-ton body along; it leapt at her.
Luna raised her chin again. This time, a blueblack light shined from her horn and struck the unfortunate creature, consumed it whole and evaporated it before it touched the ground.
The light glimmered on the tip of Luna's horn like a dark star, and then vanished. Her gaze fell once more upon the horde.
"We warn thee again: Return, or perish. These are thy choices. Choose well, and we will respect thy decision."
At that, the rest of the mob mobilized against her.
Luna shut her eyes a moment, acknowledging their decision. Her eyes opened, brimming with light.
She spread her wings wide, and with three good, strong flaps propelled herself up and forward to meet them; she landed among them, instantly piled on, swarmed, and overwhelmed. A bubble of blueblack light tore through the nightmares in her immediate vicinity; the rest took pause.
Teeth locked in anger, Luna reared up. "We are Luna!" she cried, furious. "We are Selene! Princess of Equestria, keeper and embodiment of the night! Our will is law, and we command thee: Return!"
Luna's hooves came down with a dull boom that rippled through the abyss; a ring of light pulsed around her and expanded into the depths through the nightmares that remained, cutting down all of them in one fell swoop. They evaporated into a thick haze.
"Mayest thou be content in the path thou hast chosen," Luna spoke quietly.
Her deed done, Luna stood alone again in the nothing as the light in her eyes faded.
And then, Twilight froze.
In the stillness, Luna slowly turned to face her. Not the abyss, not some nightmare she'd missed, not some other figure––her, looking right at her, eye-to-eye.