"As I glance upon the core again and again, its light sets my heart aglow. I send my eyes across the burning seas below, the broken crust above. I see the world-isles fly, and as I stand here, on the singular anchor of order in a typhoon of chaos, I cannot help but feel that the great Nyarlathotep is but a most wondrous artist, and our world but his canvas. Who are we to deny our souls to his majesty and madness?"
—Sand Song, 477 before Nightmare Moon
Twilight Sparkle raised an eyebrow.
“Discord, I don't know what kind of silly game you're playing, but you'll stop it at once!”
The spirit reeled back, his eyes wide and round as yellow saucers, and laid a paw on his chest in an overly dramatised display of shock. “Gasp, I say. How for the sake of Luna's mane could you possibly see through my elaborate disguise?”
Twilight looked at him. Impossibly long draconequine body, mismatched body parts, snaggletooth, eyebrows like a train accident, just as always. It took her several seconds to get what he meant by 'disguise'. “You call a bowtie and a fez a disguise?” she asked, incredulous.
Discord pouted and turned his muzzle upwards, leering at her in a certain aristocratic fashion.
“Bowties are cool, and so are fezzes,” he declared mustardly. “A trait that a certain killjoy apparently lacks.”
“Look, I don't really appreciate ponies just randomly appearing in my house.” Twilight sighed. Dealing with Discord always proved to be exhausting. “Could you please just tell me what you want and get going?”
“Well,” Discord said in a uninterested tone while he developed a sudden fascination with the claws on his paw. “I would be minding my own business, but there just was this little supradimensional incident that just happened here, only a few minutes ago. I don't suppose you know anything about it?”
“A supradimensional incident?” Twilight echoed, getting a sudden feeling that she would not like the direction this conversation was going.
Discord looked up from his paw, staring into her violet eyes with his strange mismatched ones. “You know, the rift that opened right in your hermetic seal?”
A sheepish grin spread on Twilight's face like oil on water. “Ah, er...” – she gave a nervous little laugh – “You see, I found this spell... ” It occurred to her that the Princess might get wind of this. Something snapped inside her head, and she panicked, much to Discord's delight. “I was really cautious and it only opened a very small rift and nothing bad happened and nothing came through and all's fine and please don't tell the Princess.”
Discord grinned at her very, very widely and very, very slowly raised a bushy, white eyebrow. “And just why do you think you can be so sure nothing came over to this side?”
“The funnel was strictly non-physical,” She said meekly. “Only information could pass through it.”
After resetting his spectacles and scanning the evaluation table, he gave her answer a nod. “The preferred solution would have been 'there is not enough running, screaming, dying and general destruction', but I'll also give your answer a pass.”
He tossed the glasses into his gaping mouth and sat down comfortably on Twilight's back, chewing thoughtfully. “So I take it you came into contact with an external spirit.” Laughing, he didn't even wait for her to answer. “That's got to be the dumbest thing you ever did. Tell me, what was it like?”
Twilight turned her head, looking up to him. “It was actually one of the most interesting conversations I've had in some time. I'll admit she had some strange quirks, but otherwise it was really pleasant.”
Momentarily, Discord looked mildly baffled, but then his features returned to the devilish delight he had been showcasing before. “This just keeps getting better! You actually managed to find one that was clever enough to speak coherently enough to make for a pleasant conversation.” He squealed with laughter. “Oh, Twilight, you are a riot. I just wonder which spirit would talk to you without melting your brain...” He stroked his goatee, staring up to the ceiling in a way that made it seem like he was pondering what to have for dinner. He decided upon a decent twaddle of beeswax served with pig iron bars made of Francium.
Somehow, Twilight didn't share his fascination with culinary eccentricities and rather seemed to be a little irritated with his remark on the usual ramifications of consulting an outer spirit without the buffer of a physical manifestation. “Melt my brain?!” Twilight screeched, terror at such a horrid suggestion giving her voice a shrill edge.
Discord could only give her attitude a condescending chuckle. “Relax, Twilight Sparkle. You're neither dead nor equicidally insane, so all's fine.” He patted her head, causing her tiara to slide down and fall into her eyes. Not knowing but suspecting he'd done this on purpose, Twilight groaned, set the crown right with her telekinesis and wearily eyed the old spirit that was still sitting on her back. It occurred to her he didn't weigh anything. He was also still smiling at her in a terribly smug fashion. “Now, who was it you talked to?”
“I don't really know. The only name she mentioned was 'Goodwyrm', but that was just the pony she appeared as. She said she herself didn't have a name because she was not in this universe.”
“Goodwyrm?” A smile of mischievous glee appeared on Discord's long face, replacing the smile of terrible smugness. “She was quite the troublemaker, wasn't she? Excellent entertainment for my poor old stoned self. She was nearly as funny as little Luna going stark raving mad and assaulting her big sister.” He chuckled so evilly that Twilight had to remind herself that in spite of his horrible sense of humour, he was now reformed.
Then she remembered something else. “Wait a moment!” she exclaimed. “I don't know who she was, but she seemed to know you were coming and told me to mention a gate and a key. Can you make something of that?” she asked hopefully.
Discord's face fell. He got up and quickly swooped down to pick it up. After placing it back on the front of his head, he turned to Twilight. “The Gate and the Key?”
“Um, yes?” She faltered under his intensive glare. The look he gave her was one that was usually restricted to giving to very irritating people that carry around big bombs.
Quickly grasping her by the shoulders, he started to shake her and cried “Do you have any idea how dangerous that thing is?”
“I-i don't thi-ink she-e can ca-ause mu-uch tro-ouble,” Twilight managed to get out. “A-as fa-ar as I-i got i-it, she-e ca-annot affe-ect u-us beca-ause she-e's lo-ocked outsi-ide of ti-ime a-and spa-a-ace.”
Both of them remained silent for several seconds, Twilight's head bobbing forth and back as Discord kept shaking. “Co-ould yo-ou sto-o-op tha-at?” she added.
Discord abruptly dropped her and quietly grumbled “It was able to talk to you. That's all it needs.” He turned around, facing the bookshelves. “Words have much more power than you might think. So much power in fact that ponies build houses for them.” He turned back to Twilight, who had just gotten up from the floor. “Words can make ponies do things, Twilight. Never forget that. Remember how I got you to enter that palace labyrinth? Words.” He spat out the word. “That thing is great at making others do its work. While other monsters run around killing thousands, poisoning the earth and causing general fear and hopelessness, that thing can achieve pretty much the same by telling the right ponies some bits and pieces about nucleons, socialism, economics and other silly ideological stuff.”
He looked down at her and sighed. “Even if it was just able to 'pass through information', as you called it, it could—”
“Use the psychic link to this dimension to impose a fragment of its conscious matrices refined into an autonomous memetic agent unto the mind of an impressible youth that just happened to be in the same room.”
Princess Twilight and (formerly King) Discord spun around, Discord doing a bit more spinning than necessary.
There, next to the blue box, apparently having entered unnoticed, stood a small baby dragon, arms folded, smirking in an intolerable manner. He was purple and had a line of green spines running down his back, in fact, he looked exactly like Spike, but, as far as Twilight was concerned, couldn't possibly be Spike. While he looked like him, everything else was completely off. The posture was wrong, as were tone and accent of his voice. His gaze was sharp and his eyes were much harder than Spike's ever were.
The smirk dampened into an amused smile and the dragon opened his arms towards the draconequus in a welcoming gesture. “It has been a long time. How have you been?”
Looming over the small Spike lookalike, Discord scratched his chin in a certain thoughtful way that is used by those who have encountered a tricky problems. “I can't really complain. Got turned to stone once or twice, but otherwise—” – he shrugged – “Let's just say all's fine and dandy.”
The little thing that looked so disturbingly similar to Spike nodded. “I am glad to hear that. Anyway, I am sorry to be slightly late, but I had to bypass some terribly low safety measurements that were comprised of 0.813cm of dry wood and a substandard mechanic ward lock to fetch a vital component first. I hope that you two have not gotten bored and fallen in love with each other while I was busy bobbing around on these ridiculously short stumps.”
He looked down at his legs.
Discord looked down at Twilight.
Twilight looked up at Discord.
'Spike' looked up at Discord and Twilight.
They looked down at him.
“Why would I fall in love with Discord of all ponies?” Twilight asked.
Spike's doppelgänger shrugged. “I honestly do not know. Apparently, the issue is somehow related to nautical vehicles.”
“Whatever.” Discord pushed the subject aside with a dismissive wave of his talon. It crashed into one of the shelves with a dull thud.
There, it would would later manage to start a nomadic life amidst the books covers, preaching to the letters of the ultimate god 'Discolight' and even accumulating a followership of a few dozen capitalized vowels.
“Spikey-wikey, I can't help but wonder how you have the nerve to just waltz in here. None of us will help you. In fact, what exactly stops me from blasting you to Tartarus right now?”
As he replied, 'Spike's' voice took on an uninterested, bored and, most prominently, painfully sarcastic tone. “Nothing, really. Go ahead, banish me to Tartarus, tear me to pieces or throw me into a fiery pit. Certainly none of Spike's pony friends shall miss him. Especially Fluttershy should not take her beloved baby dragon friend meeting a gruesome fate by your claws too badly.”
It wasn't as if she hadn't suspected it, but having actually confirmed that the dragon in front of her was, at least physically, Spike was too much for Twilight to keep quiet. “You're using him! You're using Spike for your own ends!” Twilight accused the thing that had taken control of her little stepbrother's body.
“That is correct,” 'Spike' confirmed, his tone one of indifference. “I have told you that it is a good thing not to trust me. Still, do not mistake my willingness to accord to necessities as hostility. I wish and plan no harm for Spike.”
“Likely story,” Discord cut in. His features displayed an unreadable encompassment of joy, anger, scepticism, joy, confusion, attic and joy.
“Should I tell Twilight what happened to the last ponies you possessed?”
“The only harm that is brought to those that host me is the harm that is brought to them by others in a way that I can not prevent,” 'Spike' snapped. For the fraction of a second, his face twitched, contorting into something that related to a facial expression like an explosion related to a bunny. Then the unpony thing subsided to a smile, combined with the familiar glint of amusement in his eyes.
“I find it a curious notion that you of all beings, Discord, should imply that it is I who would be responsible for an unfavourable fate that befell my host.” His eyes flitted away from Discord and pierced Twilight's.
“You, Twilight, would be well advised not to place too much trust in the virtually nonexistent reliability of that spirit. Trusting him would be even more naïve than trusting me.”
“Discord has changed. He is reformed now, our ally and friend,” Twilight said firmly. She would not let that thing drive a wedge between her and one of her friends, even if said friend needed the definition of the word to be stretched considerably to even be called such.
“You mortals always show the same shortsightedness. Your own mortality makes it difficult to understand those who do not die. You fail to see that what you call the long term is less than the blink of an eye for a true immortal. For now, Discord may behave affably as Fluttershy is his friend. You might take into consideration that Fluttershy will not live forever. Discord will.” With a short wave of his claw, 'Spike' interrupted anything Twilight or Discord might have wanted to say.
“But that is not what I wish to talk about. Technically, I have little need for this talk at all. My presence here is only due to a single irreplaceable action that has to be taken at the correct place and time.”
Discord snorted derisively. “As if there was much you could do. You're stuck in a puny dragon's head, without magic, without power. Twilight Sparkle here had better chances of winning the Running of the Leaves than you have of achieving anything.”
The dragon stared up at the Spirit of Chaos, unfazed. His expression was rigid, his voice droned. “That is correct. My current options are insufficient for me to complete my task. Therefore, I have, to widen my range of possibilities, acquired this.”
He held a claw before his face and breathed out. Wisps of green fire escaped his throat and curled around his digits. With a flash of light, the flames abruptly coalesced into a small necklace, a metal effigy of an alicorn inlaid with red gemstone, grasped tightly in the dragons claw.
“But you're a dragon!” chimed Twilight quickly, recognising the artefact. “The Alicorn Amulet can only be used by ponies.”
“Excellent, Twilight. That is correct. However, I am no simple amateurish, revenge-driven, idiotic unicorn who has obviously not read the recommended user manual.” A fleeting moment of anger reflected in 'Spike's' eyes. “As such, I aim for nothing less than setting its full power free. Simply using the Amulet in not an option.”
With a sudden, violent jerk he spun around to face the shelved wall next to the stairs. His tiny arms flew up, holding the Alicorn Amulet high above his head.
“Hear me, O she who stands between darkness and light, and be my witness!” 'Spike' boomed. The window panes and the showcase shook and clinked.
“Hear me, O he who brings forth neverending strife, and be my witness!” The floor started to vibrate faintly. Twilight thought she could hear a sound, silent, in the distance. A sound like churning rocks and electric buzzing and crackling.
“Hear me now, O she who writes down destiny; hear me, mistress of fate, for I am the architect of the fate you decided!” The great gem at the Amulet's very centre began to glow from within, the brilliant red light casting eerie shadows on the tree library's walls. A faint whispering, like angry bees trapped in a tin canister, filled the room.
Twilight glanced at Discord. His fur was standing on end, his face contorted in rage, his fists clenched in angry disbelief. Churning his teeth, he silently hissed “You—you cheating human!”
'Spike' rose his voice once more. This time, it didn't even sound like Spike's voice any more. There was a choir of silent voices beneath his own, mixing into a swelling tide of words. With each syllable, the Alicorn Amulet pulsed with magic, sending the words through the astral aether, so that Twilight not only had to hear them with her ears, but with her mind as well. It were words without language, conveying their meaning not via memory and association, but through intent to be understood. It were not words spoken by a being of flesh, blood and bone, it was meaning externalized by a child of the Void.
once bound and shackled in a frozen urn
the star has risen since the moon's return
now whole rejoicing and forever free
as was determined to be destiny
With a small, clear snap, the glowing stone cracked.
Forth burst bright ribbons of magic, circling, enveloping the small dragon, sinking into him.
Spike shook, his eyes pressed shut, the amulet crumbling in his claws. The brilliant red magic pulsed relentlessly around him, slowly seeping into his skull.
Slowly, the crackling energy subsided, leaving Spike standing, quivering, his fingers aimlessly clawing at the grey dust that seeped through them, the drained remains of the Alicorn Amulet.
Then his cramped stature slackened, his posture changing with the suddenness, swiftness and grace of an attacking cobra. His eyes opened.
They were red.
Nothing remained in them, no pupil, no iris, no sclera, only crimson glow. No love, no hate, no anger, no feeling, only swirling pools of magic. It were eyes that didn't see the world. It were eyes that forced the world to be seen, pulling it apart, relentlessly searching for even the finest, most delicate detail. Nothing escaped those eyes.
Twilight swayed. In those eyes, she saw a mind that knew no joy and no pain, a mind that never forgot. It was terribly narrow, thinking in obscure mathematical terminology, knowing only absolutes, rejecting any shade of grey. It was a mind that didn't see colour, only light. And yet, despite its obvious limits, its inability to see and feel what she took for granted, it was vast, surpassing everything she could ever have imagined. It was not one mind, it was many, yet not even a single one, an eldritch choir that had no song to sing, an orchestra without instruments. A fluttering feeling of fright took hold of Twilight when she realised this mind somehow contained hers within itself. She felt like she had been living in a glass cage for her entire life, and only now she saw it. When she looked into those eyes, they looked into her.
The eyes blinked.
The doors to Tartarus slammed shut.
'You Are One.'
Twilight staggered as her mind, moments ago lost in the monstrous eyes, was forcibly cast back into her own body.
'I Am All.'
The gaze of those eyes and of the mind behind them shifted from her like a tremendous weight. 'Spike' locked eyes with Discord. Still staring, Twilight saw, perhaps for a fleeting moment, Discord's reflection in those glowing red eyes, in this horrid mind. Luckily, it was so short she wasn't actually able to recognise anything she saw or even commit it to memory. Still, the sensation of the image of Chaos flooded her short time memory and hit her hard. A collision with a metric ton of bricks would have left her less dazed. The world dissolved into a bubbling stew of omnivolent sensations.
Ҋ̦̰͕͎̻̟̪̪̊ͪͅҵ̩̱̔̈́ͧ̿̉ҩ̥̞͖̦̍͌͊я̻̤̗̱͚ͨ͒̀̃͒̾ͥι̮̲̑͊͆ͭ@̮̝̜̗ͮͯ̿̈̓Ƚ̠͙̯̱̜̮̝͈͍̀̿ƕ͓̰̤͙͉̥̮͑̈̓ͥ̀ͬͅΘ̙̬̯͚̪̩͂͆̇ͪ̓͑͊̚₮͖̻̞̣̙̗̤̜̃ͨӭ̦̥̩̤̺̺̬ͩͨ̂ͦ̃̇̈́͂ƥ̲͉͓̳̹̬̟͚͐ͩ̐̅͐̾
Through the prismal haze around her mind and the mint-flavoured ringing in her ears, she could still faintly hear the ironic, nasal whine that the Spirit of Chaos called a voice.
“You can hardly call that fair play. Really, your unlawful handling of even the most basic manners of courtesy has deeply wounded me!”
Through the numb tingling of her limbs – How many do I have? – and the blue-pitched burning of her organs, Twilight could feel something wide, cold and hard pressing onto her side. She was lying on the floor.
“Verily, What Have I Done To Earn Such Harsh Words?” The voice of the Many-None answered, carrying a component that was beyond audible sound, a component that resonated in one's mind, causing them to simply know what had been said without bothering to transmit the impression of perceiving it being said. “I Merely Took The One Course Of Action That Benefited Most.”
Twilight discovered a new use for her eyes. They could enable her to see. And she saw, beyond the salty storm of music-coloured oblong triangles, Discord and the Spike-creature. The former was arrogantly leering down at the latter.
“Still, that bit of power can hardly compare with my glory. You've got still no chance of winning this,” Discord taunted. Around him, countless hideous shadows fled, flailing invisible appendages in unearthly terror.
'Spike' stood proud to face the draconequus, like a cold torch of red flames, scattering the horrors the sun of Chaos cast on the world. The whole of existence squirmed under the burning gaze of the chaotic god, yet the mind of the Many-None, channelled through the meaningless husk of the baby dragon, held firm to face the unbearable one.
“I Am Sorry To Disappoint, Discord, But We Are Not Playing Any More. I Already Have Won.” The endless eyes contorted the dragon's face into a smirk. “It Was A Pleasure To Meet You Two.”
A short, purplish-scaled arm extended, claws at its end quickly moving, together and away. With a snap of Spike's claws, the world shattered in a multitude of well-designed, harmonic shapes that sprung from the claws. A raging gulf of masterfully controlled magic enveloped the small dragon and whisked him away. He whose eyes saw all was gone.
“Oh, this is simply wonderful,” Discord grouched both sarcastically and under his breath. He turned towards her, then bent his great face down towards her, a halo of octarine lightning surrounding his antler and horn-crowned head.
“Twilight, you're drooling.”
She slowly drew a ragged breath, desperate to answer the old one above her. “Iä! Iä! N'hreg!” she managed to compassionately blurt out a proclamation of His Reign.
Discord sighed and shook his head. “Twilight Sparkle, you choose the worst of times for your neurotic breakdowns. I'm reformed, remember? No more 'hail Discord, king of chaos', if you please.”
“Cthulhu fhtagn,” she blubbered apologetically, shamefully eyeing the amused half-frown embedded in the abomination's face.
Discord mumbled an indifferent “Yeah, he's famous for his naps.”, grabbed her head by the horn and carefully unscrewed the upper half.
“A-ha! There's the culprit!” He reached into her open skull and swiftly pulled the brain out. Materializing a canister of bleach, a wet sponge, parsley and polishing cloth in a rapid succession of flashes of light, he proceeded to clean the icky lump of neurons before plunging it back into its place. In the end, he put the lid back into place and pressed it shut.
The world freed itself of the omnipresent haze with a painful jolt. Twilight found herself lying on the floor, face sideways in a smallish pool of spit. Her tiara had fallen off and one wing was stuck uncomfortably beneath her rump. “Wha—What happened?”
“You went insane for a bit. Or was it sane? With you, I can't really tell the difference...” Discord thoughtfully scratched his chin before making a dismissive gesture with his lion paw. “Doesn't matter. I fixed it.”
Groaning, Twilight heaved herself up onto her hooves again. She decided to ignore his crude remark. If she would show it bothered her, she'd just play into his paws. “What about Spike?”
The playful grin that was playing around Discord's lips dampened, his voice grew more serious. “That stone contained a monster that was imprisoned in there long ago. It is now in Spike's body, undoubtedly trying to gain more power.” His face suddenly lit up, like a candle had started burning in his skull. “And it's your fault. Everything you have done, every single thing from the moment you moved to Ponyville up to today, when you opened the gate to the other side, has only served to help that thing to break free.” He widely beamed down at her.
“What?” Twilight gasped before she could stop herself. “That's impossible! How could—”
“You are blind, Twilight Sparkle.” His voice swam with arrogance and faint disgust. “Unlike me, you do not see, you do not understand. It used you, Twilight. It used you and your friends and the princesses and you all never noticed.” He sighed. It wasn't a nice sigh, rather more a bit of a groan. It was a sigh-groan that told you that you were extraordinarily stupid and talking to you was extremely enervating.
“They do that, you know,” he said quietly. “The things that come from beyond the world. They use you, no matter what you want, no matter what you are. They just see their own ends, no morality, no good, no evil. If it suits them, they gouge out your eyes and eat them. Or they turn you into a god, or a dog, or a corpse.
You ponies believe there is something good in everything and everypony. 'Good' is one of them.” Discord turned, spiralling up to the ceiling.
“In a way, you brought this upon you entirely on your own.” He grinned down at the oh so amusing little pony below him. “It would be so much fun to just sit back and let it all happen. Let that thing tear apart your world, burn the stars, feed on your souls. Let you ponies pay the price of your ignorance. Let the universe sink into utter chaos.” The master of chaos giggled, his face had taken on a dreamy expression. But then his features hardened. “But I won't. Because that thing mustn't hurt Fluttershy. It won't let it hurt my little ponies.”
“If you don't want us to get hurt, why didn't you save Spike?” Twilight asked with somewhat more than a trace of accusation. It was at least a big hint of accusation.
“What was I supposed to do, Princess knows-it-all?” Discord said, his face hovering just a hoof's breadth before hers as he lounged in the air. “You can't possibly suggest I should have turned him into chewing gum or something like that.”
“Spike was being controlled!” she griped. “Couldn't you just have removed the spell he was under?”
“In case it went over your head, that thing was everything other than willing to simply let your precious assistant go. It would've tried to cling to his mind with all its might.”
Twilight could hardly believe what she thought she had heard. “Are you telling me you were just too lazy to save Spike?!”
“No, I just thought the splatters of his little fried dragon brains would look bad on the carpet.” He grinned gleefully at her horrified expression. “But if I had known you wouldn't mind...”
“Okay, I get it. But what can we do if there is no way to free Spike of that thing?”
“I never said there wasn't a way. It's only me who can't do anything. You see,” Discord elaborated, “The thing that's controlling Spike is basically just a mind. However, it's one that stems from outside of reality, so my power to alter reality doesn't really help me here. I can't directly affect this thing with my magic, I can only affect the body it inhabits, sadly at the risk of destroying the latter in the process.”
“So we have to get somepony to help us,” Twilight surmised.
“You don't say,” mocked Discord.
She ignored him, thinking about what measures to take.
If anything, the situation seemed quite dire. While Discord and the Goodwyrm-Spike-thing had disagreed on quite a number of things, there was one issue both had been clear about: The thing now in Spike's body was something ancient not of her world, and it posed a great potential threat.
“I'm going to fetch my friends,” she decided. “You can go to Canterlot and bring the princesses here. I'm sure we'll be able to figure something out together.”
Major Discord the draconequus saluted, medals shining on his uniform, posture as rigid as a plank. That was, if said plank was able to convey the impression of rigidity with a parodying sense of ironic mockery. “As thou commandest, Your Princessnesscess.” He brought his booted heels together in an audible clack and was gone in a chiming sound of light.
Princess Twilight Sparkle, first of her name, protégée of Princess Celestia of Equestria, sister-in-law to Princess Mi Amore Cadenza of the Crystal Empire, Golden Oak Librarian, Ponyville Winter Wrap Up All Team Organizer, Element of Magic, Dawn of the Eternal Night, Vanquisher of Disharmony, Saviour of the Crystal Empire and newest Princess of Equestria left her ivory tower (the metaphorical one in Ponyville that was in fact a library inside a tree, not the actual ivory tower she inhabited in Canterlot) with a triumphant feeling of optimistic determination. The fate of her little brother, and perhaps even of the whole of Equestria, was at stake, but if there was one thing she could rely on in her time of need, it was the aid of her true, true friends.
She rose her glowing face to the shining early afternoon sun, feeling the rhythm of a song well up in her throat as the pegasus guard on her left, an individual blessed with the finesse of a bulldozer, cleared his own with a rather unceremonious, unmelodious, but nevertheless respectful cough.
“Your Highness, may I report back to you?”
Interrupted in her thoughts, Twilight turned her head to look at her personal bodyguard in confusion. “About what exactly?” she inquired.
“About the intruder, Your Highness.” The pegasus saluted dutifully.
“I followed him south, up to the edge of the Everfree Forest, which he entered. The culprit then avoided apprehension through the use of terrain advantage. Singlehooved persecution was nigh impossible and highly risky, so I returned to my post to report and await further orders.”
He stood to attention, and saluted once more.
Of course! She had forgotten the strange pony who had brought the Marked Box in the first place. He had to have something to do with all this. Twilight was both elated at the information and angry at her own tardiness. However, she gave the soldier a smile. “Thank you, sir. That might actually be useful.”
And forth went the purple alicorn mare in her quest to retrieve her friends from their present daily lives, and with her came the two stallions in arms who (supposedly) protected her.
The Golden Oak Library was quiet once more, its owners had left. Aside from the tree itself, only two notably living beings were left in it. One was a sleepy owl and secondary librarian assistant, the other was wooden, blue and oblong.
A strange whirring noise from the door pierced the silence, and, as if by magic (surprisingly, it was not), the previously locked door opened.
In the doorway stood a tan earth pony, carrying a short metal rod with a glowing tip in his mouth. As he looked into the quiet refuge for all things written, his eyes fell on something spectacularly both out of place and ingeniously disguised. The frown he had been wearing dropped into relief.
“So there you are.” He sighed, putting away the screwdriver wherever it was that ponies would put away their screwdrivers.
The stallion snuck in, closing the library door behind him. The big blue box remained unresponsive.
“I still can't believe he threw me out like that.” He offered her a sheepish grin. “Not to mention he kidnapped you. Anyway, off we go!”
He enthusiastically opened the box's door and was promptly welcomed by a ground-pony-missile with a fruit pastry warhead, also known as an assault cake, which targeted its delicious greeting directly at his slightly surprised face. He groaned loudly.
“Pear pie. I should've known.”
Muttering a few silent curses, the pony disappeared into the box. The library appeared empty again. And then, with the unforgettable sound of its living engine and the blinking light at its top, the strange blue outhouse that was none slowly vanished as well.