The Moon Also Rises

by Nicroburst

Two

I have always considered myself to be a pony of loyalty. But then, what pony doesn’t? Even the betrayer considers himself loyal to his own best interests.

Perhaps another, reading of my life, would name me a deserter. He could call me an arrogant fool. What is to make his opinion any less valid than my own?

In the end, I must act as I see fit. Is that not why I was chosen?

Two

Ten Years Ago

FOR ONCE, Luna wasn’t sure how to approach the subject. She was used to being direct, forthright about what bothered her. Celestia called it ‘refreshing’—having spent a millennia dealing with the dirty secrets and subtle machinations of state politics.

Others called her blunt. She tended to take that as a compliment, but she suspected such an approach wouldn’t lend her Celestia’s favour here.

It wasn’t that she didn’t have the right. Luna felt, had always felt, that Equestria was a diarchy, the sister’s sharing power equally. But her absence left Celestia with secrets, and a thousand years of holding them tight had allowed them to fade, just ripples on the surface of her mind.

She hadn’t told her sister about her encounter with the Drac. At first, the negotiations with the Griffon Chancellor had taken most of her mind, but even back in Canterlot, she had reservations about sharing his words.

More than anything, she feared damaging her relationship with her sister. It was tenuous, still. Celestia had been gravely hurt by Luna’s betrayal, and subsequent absence, just as Luna was still recovering from her ordeal. She wasn’t sure she’d ever recover that part of herself, the part that felt hate, or if it had entirely burnt up, consumed in her fall.

She didn’t want anything to risk the slowly healing bond between them. Yet the prophetic words continued to plague her mind, teasing, tempting her. They hinted at secrets long forgotten and future conflict.

The Guiding Light. How that name galled her now, standing on her balcony, gazing out at the horizon. Cynosura sat above the horizon, just where she’d left it, all those years ago. So long as it remained aligned, everypony everywhere would be able to find their way.

Luna herself had guided hers to nothing but ruin. It was a name from a better time, a time before Equestria. She had no right to it.

“Go Beyond the Veil”

She signed. Perhaps she should just tell ‘Tia. A quick trip, a few weeks, and she could return, wiser, and without these nagging words in her head.

The Veil was probably just one of those things ‘Tia had set up over the years and forgotten. She’d probably give a little laugh and point Luna to some dusty old books in a dusty old room. But something about it stuck with Luna, wouldn’t let her shrug it off. It persisted.

So she’d have to find out what the Veil was, and the only pony who would know was ‘Tia. Things were simpler when she knew where she stood, could act without fear of overstepping herself. Now, though . . .

Still, it was of her own doing. If she truly wanted to step into her role as one of Equestria’s rulers, she’d need to have her sister’s trust, and she’d need to trust her sister.

So she’d approach her. She’d raise the subject, bringing Twilight’s report on her own experience with the creature. She’d relate everything it had said, without deceit. She’d request a period of leave, to investigate for herself. Perhaps then, she’d be able to put the encounter behind her.

She reached forward, following herself through time. Foresight was a curious magic, powered through fear or hope. She had plenty of both.

And . . . nothing. She could feel portent, in the same manner the Drac could. She could even predict events as they’d unfold, accurately reading the path of the world. But she couldn’t see the choices made that changed that path, the pebble under the wheel of the cart, knocking it out of the rut. Nopony could.

Luna turned, leaving the balcony. Behind her, Cynosura glimmered on the horizon, standing eternal vigil against wayward souls.

***

Dear Princess Celestia

This letter contains my yearly report on the Bearers, as well as an update on my current inquiry into the whereabouts of Princess Luna.

I, as you already know, reside in Ponyville with my partner Rainbow Dash. The Agency is doing well—there have been close calls, but nothing I could not handle. It continues to serve its purpose; we learn more about Coromancy every day, and I am able to provide magical consultation for Equestria. It’s much better than being closeted away in the University.

Rainbow made Captain of the Wonderbolts last year, and she hasn’t stopped smiling, or boasting, since. We thought there might have been a problem, with the busy schedule and all, but we’ve found that for somepony who can fly Ponyville to Canterlot in less than a minute, it’s fairly simple to, for the most part, live away from the city. I can always visit Canterlot myself. In fact, we’ve set up a second office there.

Rarity chose to remain in Ponyville, despite the nation-wide success of her clothing lines. She designs for a series of outlets in each city across Equestria, and seems positively radiant. I’ve had to call in her help a few times, now. She is exceptionally good at finding things—and ponies. I will admit to some jealousy. What I wouldn’t give to See, as she does . . .

Pinkie Pie runs Sugarcube Corner with the Cake twins. She seems happy, and although she might not be sharing in our accomplishments as much, she’s spent the better part of her life actively spreading joy to everypony she meets. I think that, in the end, that’s enough.

Applejack is still working the fields of her farm, with a little more help from her family, now that Applebloom is all grown up. That precocious little filly invented all manner of things over the years, making Sweet Apple Acres one of the more productive farms in the region. If anything, it’s even harder to drag her away, now that Granny Smith’s passed.

Finally, Fluttershy is living on the nature preserve P.E.T.A founded. She’s found an old house, abandoned, and moved in to be closer to the wildlife. She’s become quite the ranger, too, spending a great deal of time roaming the hills and forests of what’s essentially become her domain. At a stretch, she is able to make the flight back here in a few hours, though it usually takes up to half a day.

I regret to inform you that as yet, I have been unable to locate any trace of Princess Luna beyond her last sighting near the southern border. I of course share your concern, and will not stop looking, though after nearly ten years, I am forced to conclude, either she does not wish to be found, or she cannot be found by conventional means—particularly in the knowledge that even Sight takes us no closer to any clues.

Yours, faithfully,

Twilight Sparkle

Twilight nodded, curling the scroll and, wrapping it in a red ribbon, placed it in her saddlebag. Turning, she glanced down the narrow hallway to spy Rainbow lounging in Twilight’s office. The pegasus, still in her Wonderbolt uniform, held a book in her hooves, although it was apparent she was only half-heartedly reading.

“Dashie! I’m just heading out to deliver a letter. I’ll be back soon,” Twilight called. The sound carried, amplified by the hallway. Rainbow raised a hoof absent-mindedly, briefly waving it around in the air before returning it to the spine of her book.

“Yeah, alright Twi’, see you soon.”

Twilight smiled, just a little, at the corner of her mouth, shaking her head, as she headed out the door. She stopped for a moment on the doorstep, observing the world around her.

It was peaceful. Ponyville had always had a calm atmosphere, notwithstanding the frequent disasters that befell the town. She could see several ponies she knew, mixed among the passer-by’s.

Twilight nodded to each as they passed, friends, if only by association with Old Ponyville. The influx of newcomers had created rapid expansion in the town, its population exploding. Those who’d lived here before had begun referring to it as the New Ponyville.

She admired the plate sitting above the door before starting out. Despite the years of sun and rain, the burnished metal shone brightly, showing not a single mark or blemish. The spells she had cast on it were holding well.

Arch-Magus Twilight Sparkle’s Agency
A Consultation Service

Twilight headed up the street, heading towards the Golden Oak library in the centre of the town. Returning the greetings of those she passed, she again stopped, this time spotting Applejack at her apple stand.

“Howdy, Twi’,” Applejack said, greeting her with a wave.

“Hello, Applejack,” Twilight said, dropping a bit into the barrel nearby, she took and bit into her fruit. Sweet and tangy, it was everything she’d come to expect of the farmer’ produce. It seemed Applejack’s passion for her farm was paying dividends.

“What brings you down here, Twi’?” Applejack said, returning Twilight’s smile with a grin.

“Just delivering a letter to the princess, then I’m heading out to the fields. Rainbow’s gotten a couple of days off.”

“Ah see. Well, if you two feel like it, pop by the farm sometime. Ah’d love to catch up,” Applejack said.

“Sure,” Twilight replied, beginning to move away.

“See ya soon,” Applejack called before turning her attention to the queue that had formed in front of her.

Perhaps she could find some time in her schedule for a visit. Twilight knew Rainbow would love to catch up with Applejack. Since becoming Captain of the Wonderbolts, she’d had much less time to spend back at home. Twilight took another bite of the apple, savouring the texture. Maybe there’d be some sweet, warm, apple pies she could buy.

Finished with the fruit, Twilight tossed the core into the air and incinerated it with an absent thought.

Coming to the library, she stopped, knocking sharply on the door before opening it.

“Daerev!” she called, glancing around the room. “I’ve got a letter to send.

“’Kay,” Daerev said, appearing at the top of the stairs. He was as big as Twilight, now, with long spikes graced his back and there was the barest hint of wings beginning to protrude from his sides, forming as bulges beneath his scales. “I’ve some mail for you as well, from Shining Armour.”

“Shiny sent a letter?” Twilight said, clasping her hooves together. It wasn’t often she heard from her brother, since he’d moved to the Crystal Empire in the far north.

“Yep. Here you go,” Daerev said, tossing a bound scroll to Twilight. Snatching it from the air in a telekinetic field, Twilight reached into her saddlebags and pulled out a scroll of her own.

“Send that to Celestia. I’ll read this while I wait for a response.”

“You sure she’s going to reply that quickly?”

“Just send the letter,” Twilight said, heading into the kitchen and taking a seat. She pulled Shining Armour’s letter out, and, as Daerev incinerated her letter in a stream of green fire, began to read.

Twily!

It’s been a while since we’ve heard from you, so I thought I’d let you know that I’ll be visiting Canterlot in three days’ time. Perhaps we could meet? I’ve got a lot to catch up with you.

For instance, I heard you made Arch-Magus. That’s fantastic, congratulations little sister! We always knew you were special, although I did have to find out myself, when Princess Celestia invited us to the ceremony. Maybe you’ll stop giving me a hard time about the invitation to my wedding now.

Unfortunately, neither of us could come. It’s been a great deal of work here, making sure that everything is running smoothly. Even now, the Crystal ponies seem to be traumatised. A lingering effect of King Sombra’s reign, I suppose. In effect, every little thing that goes wrong half convinces them that it’s the end of the Empire. It’s even crazier than your stories made Ponyville sound!

But enough of that. I’m sure we can talk at length in Canterlot. I’ll be coming in on the morning train, but I’m only staying for a few days.

Hoping to hear from you soon,

Shining Armour

Daerev’s head rose from the book he was reading, carefully positioning his snout above the cover, and belched a long trail of green fire. The flame coalesced into a tightly sealed scroll, which fell from the air into his hands. He looked at the seal, then across the room at Twilight, who was composing a reply to her brother.

“Looks like you were right, Twilight,” Daerev said. “Here, catch.”

He tossed the scroll across to Twilight, who set her work aside and unfurled it, eyes scanning the lines.

My most faithful Twilight Sparkle,

As much as I welcome news of you and each of your friends, and celebrate your good fortune with you, I must confess I found your continued lack of progress regarding my sister to be troubling, although not unexpected.

Luna’s absence has left an indelible mark in Equestria’s governance; a hole created ten years ago when you returned her to us. Her brief period in the Court leaves us in the peculiar position of returning to an Equestria that no longer exists.

When I tasked you with finding my sister, I imagined it the work of, at most, months. I understand how complex such an investigation can be, but, bearing in mind the particular abilities of your group, I had hoped for some progress. To date, we know only that she disappeared near the southern border.

This is not to say that I find your efforts lacking, Twilight. I know you share my concern for Luna, and are doing everything in your power to help return my sister to her rightful place.

I myself have attempted to See her, to no avail. Please pass this on to Rarity, with the assurance that she has not failed. Luna is simply beyond our Sight. I cannot imagine that such a place exists within Equestria’s confines.

You concluded that either she could not be found, or did not wish to be found. While we may hope that she maintains her independence, after such a long time, I am forced to accept the apparent fact that she has been waylaid, somehow caught and held. I have never heard of a being with sufficient power to hold an alicorn against her will, but surely Luna would have contacted us by now, were she voluntarily remaining beyond our reach.

Beyond Equestria. The thought is as foreign to me, after such a long time, as it would be to you. Truthfully, I cannot remember anypony ever actually leaving, though some have expressed the desire to.

Has Fluttershy been able to Dream of anything relating? I understand that it is an imprecise art, but at this point, I am desperate for any clue as to my sister’s fate. My own Dreams have not touched on her.

As for you, Twilight, I would be most appreciative if you were to include this search as an Agency matter. Please, consider me your client. You will have access to the royal treasury for the duration of your search.

I know that there is little you can do but wait. Continue to develop Rarity and Fluttershy’s abilities, as well as your own. In the end, all we have left is hope.

***

There’s nothing here.

Trixie stifled a yawn. She had to agree, albeit reluctantly; her thirteen hour search through the Archives had, so far, yielded nothing useful. Still, the Archives were huge, and she wouldn’t give up till she’d gone through every scroll.

It was her last chance, after all. Her last opportunity to discover what had happened for herself, without seeking outside help. She’d always been an independent pony, comfortable in her own company. She was never alone, not anymore.

Of course, there were plenty of ponies who could have offered their opinions. The Princesses would probably know, even offer her aid. Yet, she couldn’t trust them, not completely. Everything they did would be benevolent, of that she was certain. It wouldn’t change the fact that she’d amount to an experiment, a test subject bearing inexplicable symptoms.

She needed to know what had happened, without spending the years being passed between experts and examined by doctors. That was why she searched, why she’d spent four years travelling with that monster.

This is getting old. We can come back tomorrow, right?

Brash was right, in his own way. More productive to search after a night’s rest, when her eyes no longer strained to make out the blurry words, her eyelids no longer dragged her head towards the ground and her mouth made yawn after yawn.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t entirely right. She could come back tomorrow, and potentially be turned away. The palace employed a large staff, most of whom weren’t open to bribes. Trixie’s bits had only gone so far; if Starlight, the only dirty librarian in the whole bunch, wasn’t on duty, she’d be stuck.

So she stayed, moving through the mental manipulation fields of magic. The amount of information was astounding, shelves and shelves of scrolls stretching away from her in every direction. Even with the filing systems, it had taken Trixie an hour just to find the relevant sections.

She passed over the Soulgaze, the memory transfer and the various probes. She barely glanced at the Domination spells, despite Cumulus’ protests. She didn’t know why those even existed, nopony had ever used them, as far as she knew. The field had been restricted immediately, and for good reason. The thought of having another invade your mind and take control? It was enough to make her shiver.

Still could be worth looking at. Cumulus argued. He did have a point; after all, she had two minds in her head. The linking magic could hold a clue.

Think of how that would look. I bribe a librarian, sneak in, and spend hours poring over the Domination spells. I don’t think that would go down well.

Only if you get caught.

Maybe as a last resort, then; there was plenty of material left. She could keep going for another few hours, more if she turned her magic on herself. Illusion magic was surprisingly versatile; tricking her mind into thinking it rested was a handy trick, though it wasn’t healthy.

She picked up another scroll, glancing at the title.

On Mental Magic and the Soul

She almost moved on, dismissing the grandiose notion before stopping. Filed here suggested some level of competency, and it did seem to pertain to her situation. Unfurling a little, she saw the author’s name: Twilight Sparkle.

Her again . . .

Curiosity piqued, Trixie carefully scanned the document. It was a treatise on mental magic, of all forms, and what it revealed about a soul. Twilight had some interesting ideas, certainly, but nothing stood out as relevant. Except . . .

There!

Something about emotional surges—an overflow in the Spiritual nexus, leading to a magical outburst that connected two minds briefly. Twilight suggested it was an empathic connection between the two minds, linking as equals very briefly.

And if their bodies died while in that state?

Unfortunately, that theory would require both parties to be unicorns. Trixie couldn’t have pulled her friend’s into her head; without reciprocal magic, they would have been unable to connect at all.

It had merit, certainly was something worth bearing in mind. Trixie just couldn’t see it applying here, or in how she was able to read the minds of those she made eye contact with. The ability was useful, yes, but her complete lack of understanding over its functioning left her discomfited, and she was sure it was related to her friends inhabiting her head.

Trixie carefully copied the relevant parts of the scroll, including the theoretical spell matrices into her notebook. Perhaps she would go find Twilight Sparkle, see if she had any further thoughts. Trixie tucked her notebook away, replacing Twilight’s scroll and moving on.

Of everypony we know, Twilight Sparkle would be the most qualified to help. Cumulus said.

I know, but that doesn’t change our history. Trixie replied. Asking her would be tantamount to asking the Princess, anyway. Even if I could persuade them to keep silent, I’d be in the public eye. I’d be their subject.

So, instead we’re sneaking through the Archives hoping to get lucky?

An excellent point. Trixie could see the logic behind appealing to the Princesses. After all, she’d be able to generate
considerable sympathy with her story, and they knew more about magic than any other being alive. Even with that, however, she was reluctant. She had a feeling that once she made that contact, she could never go back, never reclaim her anonymity. It wasn’t an option.

Even if it means time with Boundless?

Trixie knew it was a bad idea, continuing to work with him. Yet, even with his unpredictability and tendency for extremes, the fact remained that over the last four years, he hadn’t laid a hoof on her. And they had gotten results, successfully evading capture; travelling across Equestria . . . the partnership had worked. There was no reason it couldn’t continue to do so.

And if he continued to hurt ponies, she could be there to rein him in. There was security in their history; he wouldn’t turn on her that easily. After all, he had kept her around. He needed her as much as she needed him.

Trixie rounded the shelf, intending to continue on the other side, to come face-to-face with Boundless, standing motionless against the stack. Jumping, she yelped, tired eyes fully open and alert, heart racing. Recovering, she gave him a glare that spoke volumes, choosing to ignore the slight smirk that played at the edge of his mouth.

Speak of the devil . . .

”Trixie, there you are,” Boundless said, voice a hushed whisper. “I’ve found something I think you’ll want to see.”

Trixie didn’t know why Boundless had insisted on following her in here, though she had no real objection. She’d been careful to keep what she was looking for from him; there was no need to share the fact that she heard the voices of her dead friends, had their minds locked in hers, but equally she had no idea what he was searching for.

“How long were you waiting there?” Trixie accused as she followed him down the aisle.

“About ten minutes. It was worth it, though.”

“I’m sure. What did you find?”

Boundless led her down the aisle, weaving his way through the Archives. Leaving the Magic section, they moved down the hallway, arriving at the History section.

“In here,” Boundless said.

Trixie couldn’t help but wonder what they were looking for. She’d never pegged Boundless as interested in history. Something must have caught his eye.

“Why were you in here in the first place?” she whispered, following him down an aisle. They passed by modern history, skipped the records of the Celestia’s reign during Luna’s banishment, eventually left Equestrian history behind altogether.

“I was looking for something, something that was around during the founding of Equestria.”

“That was before even Celestia and Luna.”

“Yes, it was. Here, look at this.” Boundless finally entered the stacks, confidently leading Trixie to a shelf. He took hold of the scroll sticking halfway out of the shelf, levitating it over to Trixie. Taking it in her own grip, she unfurled it and began to read.

The Foundation and Maintenance of the Crystal Empire

In all my travels I have never come across a group as emphatically separate and yet closely related to Equestria as the Crystal Empire. They acknowledge their roots in Equestrian culture and our shared genetic background, but they distance themselves from us, and hold their secrets close.

It has become abundantly clear that the Crystal ponies of the north were not always so different. Indeed, I propose that they are in fact of the same race as us, albeit a group long affected by exposure to their namesake magic.

On my own journey through the Crystal Empire, I was fortunate enough to witness the Crystal fair, an event celebrating the unique features of their lifestyle. While such a celebration is worth its own record, here I intend to detail the situation that lead to the formation and the maintenance of the Crystal Empire. Please refer to my colleagues work for details of their current culture and situation.

We know that their magic revolves around the Crystal Heart, an artefact not even the Crystal ponies know the origins of. It seems to function as a lens, spreading the prevailing emotion across the Empire. Thus, strong national pride, evoked through events such as the fair, protects the Empire from dissolution. Their unity becomes their strength.

When I witnessed this event personally, the Heart emitted a wave of magic that left my coat a translucent crystal. While the effect faded shortly afterward, it seems clear to me that not only does the Heart use the emotions it is fed, but it is capable of enforcing those on others. My presence and participation, for a brief time, turned me into a Crystal pony.

The Empire rests on the Heart, of this there is no doubt. Nevertheless, the artefact itself is inherently neither good nor evil. It is capable of reflecting whatever it is fed, and enforcing that on those around it. It is the tool of a tyrant, even in spreading joy and fulfilment.

These are my claims;

Firstly, the Foundation of the Crystal Empire is the result of extended use of the Heart as a means of control.

Secondly, while such abuse, in all likelihood, arose from the desire to protect and unify, it is an abuse, and removes, in part, the individual’s right of choice.

Thirdly; such a breach in our ethical code is part of their national identity. The Crystal Empire exists as a unified being, and will continue to exist as such. It is not our prerogative to judge, but to acknowledge and understand. This in large part enforces the separation of our cultures.

Finally; the Maintenance of the Empire relies on the continued use of the Heart. Thus, the safety of the Heart is vital for two reasons; the continued protection of our cousins in the north, and our own protection from their magic. For if the Heart ever came south, I fear we would have little ability to resist its influence.

The document continued, the author offering his own experiences as evidence, and attempting to spark a lot of fear. Trixie recognised the exaggerations, word choice carefully placed to provoke a response. This pony, whoever he had been, hadn’t trusted the Crystal Empire.

What was Boundless looking for? There hadn’t been anything useful in the entire thing. Trixie considered, turning over what she knew. Boundless was reckless, independent, amoral and wild. He sought . . . Trixie would have said excitement-she’d thought that for a while, but it didn’t fit, somehow. He had a design, a goal, tucked away somewhere. He was driven, then, but by what?

Don’t focus on what he wants.

He hated control. He hated it so much that he refused to accept Boundless as his name, though it was listed as such. He’d told her repeatedly, ”You may call me that. But do not mistake it for a name.”

The document had been about control, specifically how the Crystal Empire controlled its populace, and how that ensured their safety.

Oh.

Yes, I think so. Trixie agreed.

What?

He’s going after the Crystal Heart, Brash.

Ah.

Trixie shook her head slowly, raising her eyes to meet Boundless’ squarely. “Why did you show this to me?”

“You know why, Trixie.”

“It’s a bad idea, Boundless,” she said, emphasising the name. He arched an eyebrow, staring down at her. When had he gotten so tall? “Setting aside the obvious fact that you’d be caught, do you even know where it is?”

“In the Crystal Empire, obviously,” he replied.

“Even if you somehow get it, what are you going to do with it?”

“Study it.”

Trixie snorted. He hadn’t studied anything seriously in his life.

“Is something funny?” he said, eyebrows furrowing. Trixie nearly wilted under the glare. “Before we go further, consider this. I have not found a single mention of the Crystal Heart anywhere else in these Archives, the most complete repository of knowledge in all Equestria. References to it have been pruned away. Why would somepony do that?”

“I don’t know, and frankly, I don’t care.”

“You should, because the same may have happened to you.”

That brought Trixie up short. “Okay, so what now?”

“Now, we need to find somepony who knows about this, somepony with a connection to the Crystal Empire. You can spend weeks in here without finding answers to your question, Trixie. Find the right pony, and you could rip them from their mind in seconds.”

He has a point.

“Very well, then, who?”

“I don’t know. Like I said, records regarding this seem to have vanished.”

“They just conveniently missed that one?” Trixie said, pointing a hoof at the discarded scroll. Boundless gave a helpless shrug. “Then they may have missed more. We could search through the recent histories; see if anypony interacted with the Heart. The Empire returned, what, thirteen years ago?”

“Something like that.” Boundless nodded. Just as they turned to go, a light whistle reached their ears. A jaunting, merry tune that carried through the hallways, bouncing off walls and shelves, it was the morning patrol.

“We need to go, now,” Trixie whispered, clenching her eyes shut. A lead, all she wanted was a lead! She’d have to come back, perhaps break in now that she knew the staff routines. That thought comforted her. She’d been so close to the answers.

“Yes, we do. Meet back at the hideout in two hours,” Boundless said. His voice, pitched low, seemed to resonate through the room, though Trixie knew that was just the fear building inside her. Information would have to wait; they couldn’t afford to be caught here. She nodded.

They split up, each heading opposite directions to the end of the stacks. Trixie knew of four exits to the Archives, and she knew more probably existed. Even then, she knew of no building that had been able to contain Boundless, not even the prison, that one time in Manehattan.

She trotted quickly to the outer hallway, quickly casting a spell to block the sound from her hoof-steps. The Archives consisted of a great round building, about the size of a hoof-ball field. The outer and inner hallways were loops, connecting through the various sections, and protecting the innermost, restricted, section from the public.

She could see the guard light approaching, casting a shadow on the wall in front of Trixie as he moved along the hallway.

Blast. She turned, galloping back to the inner hallway.

In three, two, one . . .

She turned left abruptly, diving into the shelves, pressing herself up against the nearest stack, breathing heavily. She wasn’t used to galloping, even short distances left her somewhat out of breath. She should really get around to exercising properly, one of these days.

Behind her, the cone of light flickered past, briefly darting into the aisle before returning to roaming the hallway. Trixie poked her head around the corner to catch a glimpse of the guard’s flank disappearing from view. She waited a minute or so before slinking out, escaping without incident.

Spread before her lay Canterlot, in the act of awakening. She moved away from the Archives, though no alarm had been raised, heading to the markets. After all, she’d been up all night. She could use some breakfast.

Author's Note:

Notes: Chapter Two

Comments

[Mister Morden]

I liked this chapter. Finally catching up with Twilight, consulting Unicorn!