Curious, as well as being a bit concerned, Maeve made her way down the long hallway leading to the throne room. It wasn’t often that she was summoned; oh, she was called to the throne room or other places often enough, but to be summoned, that was something else. She wasn’t going to the throne room as Maeve, but as Sorceress Maeve.
She went down the hallway with as much grace as she could muster, her long skirts swishing around her ankles, and Blueblood was almost glued to her, moving along scant inches behind her. As she walked, she began to feel some worry—what was happening, what was wanted from her, what was going on—she had been told nothing by the pegasus guard that uttered the words, telling her that she, Sorceress Maeve, had been summoned.
Turning into the main entrance hall, she saw a group of guards had formed a living wall to keep others out. The throne room was being secured, which meant that this was important. The guards stepped forwards, then all moved aside as one to allow Maeve to pass and gain entry into the throne room. As Maeve approached, the door opened, encased in the glow of cherry red magic.
Somewhat surprised, Blueblood was allowed inside the throne room with her. She stopped, sucked in a deep breath, and drew herself up to her full height. Right away, her heart began to race. Twilight Sparkle was here! There were three alicorns in the throne room. Princess Celestia was pacing the length of the room, the weight of centuries of rule showing on her face, she looked pensive… and afraid. Princess Luna was sitting upon a decorative cushion, looking a little sleepy. Princess Twilight Sparkle appeared to be talking to Bjarke.
“Sorceress Maeve,” Luna began, “it is good that you are here. We have a crisis.”
“A crisis?” Maeve replied.
Twilight turned around to face Maeve, her expression stern and serious. “Princess Luna, we have determined that there is a crisis but we have not yet reached a decision on what we are to do about it just yet.”
“But something must be done,” Bjarke said in a voice that was almost a pleading whisper. “We cannot ignore these cries of help. We cannot—” Bjarke fell silent when Twilight raised her hoof in a gesture for silence.
“What is going on?” Maeve asked as she wiped her sweaty right palm against her skirts. She folded her arms over her chest and waited for someone to explain what was going on to her.
“Bjarke and Princess Celestia were in the astral realm together when something contacted Bjarke. It begged for help. Now we are trying to figure out what to do.” Twilight Sparkle eyed Princess Celestia. “We are going to do something, right?”
“This is very risky.” Princess Celestia stopped in place, no longer pacing to and fro.
“Doing the right thing often involves risk.” No sooner had Maeve spoken, every eye in the room was locked upon her. The girl squirmed, unfolded her arms from her chest, and once more, she wiped her sweaty right palm upon her skirt. “I keep being told that the right things are never easy, but still must be done.”
Ears drooping, Princess Celestia’s head hung low. She looked at Bjarke, then at Twilight, then over at Luna, and then at last, she looked at Maeve. “I suppose that settles it. Something must be done, but the risk galls me.”
There was a loud exhale of relief from Bjarke, who trembled as he stood there, his hands resting upon the pommels of his swords. His eyes closed and his whole body shook. The faint, soft clanking of metal could be heard as his swords clapped against his legs.
“Some concerned entity contacted Bjarke in the astral realms, I do not know what it was, but it relayed the fact that a collection of creatures were in trouble… in another realm. Dire trouble.” Princess Celestia took a step closer to Bjarke, her expression one of worry and concern. After pausing for a moment, she went to his side. “Bjarke, are you okay?”
His almost luminous violet eyes opening, Bjarke slumped, no longer able to maintain his rigid posture. He looked at Celestia with wide, pleading eyes. “The years of war have not been kind. There have been so many that I have failed to save. The numbers of those who serve goodness and light continue to dwindle.”
The white alicorn nodded. “I understand.” She took a step closer to Bjarke. “Who, or what are we saving? What are we dealing with?”
“We’re saving a group of gnomes,” Bjarke replied, speaking in a strained voice. “Think of them as sapient potatoes… earth spirits. They talk, sing, and dance… they make merry in the moonlight… during the day they sleep in the soil, purifying the ground and making green things grow.”
“And who are we saving them from?” Celestia asked.
“A dealer in curios and magical artifacts. I wasn’t told very much. But he deals to the dokkálfar and the svartálfar… the gnomes can be ground up and turned into potions that make one better at magic… stronger.” Bjarke’s voice dropped into a scratchy whisper. “They are also turned into fertility potions that make the chance of conception better for my evil brethren.”
“We have to save them,” Maeve said as she stepped forwards. “What do we do?”
“We use your magic to open a rift,” Bjarke replied. “Oh, don’t worry, I can help you… you can do this, Maeve, I know that you can… you brought me here.”
Maeve took a moment to think about what this entailed. She looked at Bjarke, her jaw muscles tensing, and then she looked at Luna. After a moment, she looked over at Celestia. “It means going through the rift and rescuing them… it means going into danger… it means going to someplace else.” Maeve’s fiery orange eyebrows furrowed. “If the gnomes are there, it will mean that I will probably have magic there, meaning that this falls on me.”
“So smart, so clever…” Bjarke’s words came out as a breathy whisper. “So much like my sister.”
Blushing, Maeve could feel her cheeks and her long pointy ears burning. She had been about to say something, but now, the words were caught in her throat. Her eyes fell and she stared down at her own feet.
“We will need an expedition. We cannot let Sorceress Maeve go alone.” Princess Celestia looked at her fellow alicorns. “She will need protectors if this becomes dangerous.”
“I’m going.” Blueblood lifted his head high and stood at attention, his eyes straight ahead. The stallion looked resolute and his tone of voice made it quite clear that he would not be argued with.
“I am Sorceress Maeve’s teacher and these gnome creatures… they are creatures of the night. I am obligated to help them.” Luna moved to Maeve’s side and gave her sister a cool stare. “I understand the risks, but there is a lesson here and I will not be a poor teacher. I have made far too many mistakes already.”
“Bjarke, you must stay,” Princess Celestia said to Bjarke.
The tall elf bowed. “I understand… Maeve might need help returning home. I can pull her through in much the same way that I pulled myself through, using her magic.”
“I’m going.” Twilight stepped closer to both Luna and Maeve, gritting her teeth as Celestia inhaled. Before Celestia could argue, Twilight was already on the defensive. “I’m going, and that’s final. I will not let my dear friends go into danger without me. I am aware of the risks. Two alicorn princesses and one elven sorceress gone through the portal. Do not lecture me, Princess Celestia. I love them both and I am going, and that is final.”
Gasping, Princess Celestia deflated. She looked at Twilight, their eyes locked together, and after a long silence, Princess Celestia said in a low, quavering voice, “I would expect no less from you, my most faithful student. Never abandon a friend during a time of trouble.”
“Maeve will need her sword and crown.” Princess Luna glanced at Blueblood. “We do not know what sort of world we are going to. We do not know what forms we will have. We could end up in very different bodies. We might have no magic at all, or very little magic.”
Nodding, Blueblood said nothing, but continued to stand at attention.
Maeve, who felt sweaty all over, stood squirming. Every life was worth saving, even the ones that seemed inconsequential. She thought of Red, her best friend and companion. He was a small, frail creature, he had a disease, brittle bones, and his condition had left him crippled. But he was a good and worthwhile creature. He had purpose. He was very dear to her. In her moment of reflection, Maeve realised that her relationship with him had given her some much needed compassion.
Yet, even as she thought about lives that were worth saving, she thought of lives worth taking. She thought of Lunn and his cruelty. She had cut him down without a second’s hesitation. She thought of Queen Oonagh, another that she had killed, cut down, cleaved in into chunks with her sword. Perhaps not every life was worth saving, some were worth taking, but Maeve had the vague notion that such things were necessary. She would save the ones that she could and end the ones that she had to.
“Uncle, what are these gnomes to us?” Maeve asked.
“Creatures that long ago, our kind made an oath to protect. We gave our word. That oath has long since died. Everything has fallen and nothing is as it was.” Bjarke took a step closer to Maeve. “There is so much I wish to tell you… about your mother and her views, but I fear it would be seen as emotional manipulation or pressure.” Bjarke paused and his lips pressed together. He studied Maeve with an intense stare as the silent seconds passed, and after some time, he broke his silence. “All I will tell you is to search your heart, my Niece.”
Nodding, the tall girl began to feel the pressure of what must be done settling upon her shoulders. She appreciated her uncle’s words and drew strength from them. She felt her stomach twisting around inside of her. Fear and tension began to have its way with her. She gritted her teeth, realising now was not the time for weakness. She squared her shoulders, sucked in a deep breath, her delicate chest rising inside of her tunic.
“We should hurry. We have much to do,” Maeve said.
Seeing the pained expression in Red’s eyes, Maeve knelt down and then lowered her head, coming almost nose to nose with the small, frail equine colt. She watched a tear roll down his cheek. A short distance away, Rose Gold stood watching, her sides heaving, a terrible look of worry upon her face.
For a second, when looking into Red’s eyes, there were no other ponies in the room, only Red. Maeve reached out her right hand and using her thumb, she wiped away the tears on Red’s cheek.
“Don’t do it,” Red begged, his whole body trembling. “Please don’t go… it’s so dangerous.”
“I must,” Maeve replied in a soft voice as she ran her thumb over Red’s damp, velvety cheek. “It’s time I grow up a little and do what I can to make things better.” Maeve blinked, feeling her own eyes tearing over. “Look after Fuschia. See that she is happy.”
“Yes, Sorceress, I will do as you ask.” Red bowed his head for a moment, then looked back up at Maeve. The colt looked frantic for a moment, panicked even, and then his ears pinned back against his skull.
Giving Maeve no warning, Red pressed his lips against Maeve’s and gave her a quick, clumsy kiss, his own fuzzy lips brushing up against her smooth, hairless ones. Her face was soft and had some give to it, and as he lingered against her, he could feel the firmness of her teeth just behind her soft, somewhat plump lips.
Stupefied, Maeve sat there in shock, her eyes wide, and she made no response.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me… please don’t panic, please!” Red began to back away, his ears drooping, his tail tucked between his legs. “I’m so sorry… I’ll never do it again, I promise!”
Recovering, Maeve looked at her best friend, realising that something had just changed between them, something that could never be undone, things could never go back to how they were. She thought about the soft, fuzzy feeling of Red kissing her. It terrified her, scared her something awful, but she could not deny that she enjoyed it. Rising, she stood, balancing on her wobbling legs.
“We’ll talk when I come back, Red.” Maeve’s hands fell down to her waist and came to rest upon her wand and her sword. “Goodbye, Red… I’m coming back.”
Red retreated to his mother’s side, looking confused, sad, and hopeful all at the same time. He clung to his mother’ leg, and unable to bear it any longer, began weeping, pressing his face into Rose’s knee.
While all of this had been happening, two sisters had been saying their own goodbye. Princess Celestia and Princess Luna stood together, with Princess Twilight standing near Luna’s side. Princess Celestia’s worry was visible upon her face as she was sending away both her sister and her former student.
Turning, Maeve walked towards the table where her crown lay waiting. Choróin ar an Bitseach. The crown that made her cranky. Extending a trembling right hand, she lifted the crown and then placed it upon her head. Right away, she could feel her mood changing. She felt irritated, hostile… she felt mean. She pitied anything that got in her way. She became all too aware of the supernaturally sharp sword hanging from her waist.
“I’m ready, help me, Uncle.” Maeve bowed her head and waited, knowing that this would be the difficult part. Perhaps the most difficult part.
Hearing his niece's voice, Bjarke moved forwards, doing so with caution, and he stood beside Maeve. He lifted his hands, saying nothing, and placed them both upon Maeve’s temples. He could feel her trembling and he knew how difficult this had to be for her. He could hear her breathing quicken as he pulled her closer.
Their foreheads touched, Bjarke had to bend his neck to make it happen, and he could feel Maeve wanting to pull away from him. He saw her teeth clench, he knew that she was struggling. In that moment, Maeve was so much like her mother, his sister, that Bjarke felt his heart breaking. He squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated as tears began to slide down his own cheeks. All of his training as a warrior had not prepared him for this pain.
Maeve felt her uncle’s mind touching hers. All of her fear, all of her terror, it began to flow away from her. All of the thoughts and memories of her father and what he had done retreated from her mind. She leaned forwards, pressing her forehead against Bjarke’s, and without realising it, her right hand clasped around Bjarke’s wrist, clinging to it.
Inside of her mouth, Maeve’s teeth began to vibrate, and she could feel the buzzy sensation in her long, slender, pointed ears as well. The knowledge of what she needed to do filled her mind. The crown upon her head thrummed with magical power. She knew what magic had to be performed.
Pulling away from her uncle, Maeve drew her sword from its sheath. Gritting her teeth, her body surrounded by a glowing silver-blue nimbus, she slashed at the air with her sword, cutting open a rift. She stabbed her blade into the rift and held it open.
“It is time to go,” Maeve said to the others as she made a gesture towards the portal.