The Moon Also Rises

by Nicroburst

Four

My sister gave me a gift before I left. A locket, engraved with a dawning sun. It is encouraging to have her with me, if only in spirit.

I fear I would have backed down long ago were it not for her. My one wish is that she could be here, with me.

Perhaps she has already fallen.

Four

THERE WAS NOTHING IN THE BLACKNESS. It stretched on to infinity, lacking any sense of direction, space or time. Not even the voice remained, having given up taunting her an age ago. Luna was completely, hopelessly, lost, grounded only by the one saving constant in her hellish prison.

Even now, the wind blew. No matter which way she turned, it blew against her, pressed into her as if trying to grasp her, define her. She didn’t belong here. Even the wind knew that much.

So she followed it, followed the path it laid out for her. She walked into it, for therein lay the centre, and therein lay her captor. She was sure of it. The owner of that horrid voice had to be there, for where else was there?

She wasn’t walking forward, not exactly. Forward had no meaning here, no definition. There was nothing to approach, nothing to back away from. She’d could turn, walk to the side a ways, and be approaching her goal just as fast as she was now. Every direction was one, and none.

She didn’t move. There was nowhere to move to, nowhere to move from. She existed, certainly, but not in any particular place. Here, there, it didn’t matter. What mattered was the centre, and escape.

Time stood still, or perhaps sped past, days flying by in every step she took. She could not tell, her mind’s eye could pierce the blackness no better than the two resting in her face. She left them closed, they served no purpose here. She could even have been sleeping, were she not walking, endlessly walking, the pressure of the wind struggling to hold her back.

Even inwardly, she felt lost. She’d come here to discover the Drac’s hidden meanings. The little nuggets of prophecy buried in amidst the web. The connections under the names, identities and truths lost to time. The barrier across the Equestrian border, the Veil . . . what it was and who had made it.

“The last thousand years, time spent stalling. Events have been set in motion, now. You cannot hold it back anymore.”

“Cannot you feel the portent in the air, the whispers on the wind and water? Harmony calls to me, Luna.”

“Only you and your sister know that. No one else remembers past the Veil.”

“Harmony will not allow you to fail again, Luna. They will need the Guiding Light. So, friend, my guidance to you; seek yourself; not in memory, but in time. Go beyond the Veil.”

She hadn’t been the Guiding Light since she took up the mantle of her Nightmare. She was supposed to light the path, not lead into darkness. The Dreamer had passed at the same time; a prophet and a judge, no longer fit to teach. But perhaps she could be those ponies again, could reclaim her life. That tempted her sorely. That was what had lead her into this trap.

She wondered briefly who set it. Had this been mere poor luck, a bad choice and a twist of fate? Or did the closing jaws have teeth, a perpetrator, smiling, driving the blade home; The Drac, planting the seed, Celestia, prompting her with little warning.

No. She wasn’t going to tread that path again. Celestia trusted her to take care of herself. Luna wasn’t a baby, wasn’t her little sister, to be protected at every turn. There was little point assigning blame here; it was a poison she wouldn’t again indulge.

She wasn’t getting anywhere. Luna cast her eyes around, searching in vain for some spark of light, something to latch onto, some last hope. She didn’t stop though.

She had been told to seek herself, not in memory, but in time. She knew who she had been, knew it in her bones, though she was much removed from those days. She knew what had led to her fall, a pride in her strength and a false certainty. Folly, she knew herself to be weak, and here she proved herself right once again.

She was weak, after all. Too weak to resist the temptations offered her. Too weak to avoid despair, too weak to discard hope. She’d never been content to let it go; no compromise or acknowledgement. Was that what this journey proved? Coming here a final concession to her failure?

But Luna knew the trap laid out before her, knew it as if it were her own. She had spent a thousand years atoning for the transgression of despair, and would not risk it again. Reaching inward, she clutched at a sliver of hope, painstakingly recovered. Raising her head, she stared forward, eyes penetrating the gloom with a spark, burning faintly on the tip of her horn.

She knew that light. It had been within her ever since her Cleansing at the hooves of the Bearers. It was a child’s light, a foolish dream of transcendence. Hope, its barest gleam already pushing away at the black expanse around her, rose up inside her.

It was hope for change. That she could surpass her legacy as the Nightmare, become a liked ruler, cherished and adored, as her sister was. That Equestria could grow, flourish under her reformed guidance. That everything could get better. It guided her, as surely as Cynosura had, for all the long eons spent firmly fixed upon the north.

She’d learned from her mistakes, grown a little older, a little wiser. She didn’t resent Celestia’s burning star, rising high over Equestria, rather took comfort in the reflected glory shining down from her moon. She understood her place now, and did not covet another’s.

Would fate have her return to that bitter, hollow creature she’d begun? Begin anew a cycle that led only to darkness? To give up all her hard-won progress, for the sake of an unnamed threat, safely locked away?

There was no point in looking back anymore. She’d taken what lessons she could from her past, learnt them and moved on. The past held nothing for her, identities tied up in choices, locked away in memories best left alone, ignored, forgotten.

Focusing on that hope, Luna closed her eyes, and Dreamt.

***

Twilight stretched, letting out a long yawn. Beside her, Rainbow Dash was also awakening, sunlight spreading through her cyan hair, splaying down her toned torso. Twilight smiled at the sight.

She’d once asked Rainbow why she was able to take so much time off. Indeed, while Spitfire had never commented on her frequent breaks from practice to help Twilight, or simply spend time with her and their friends, once Rainbow had made Captain, the others hadn’t held back.

So Rainbow had challenged them.

“Alright, listen up. I’m going to take the week off. I expect you all to be working according to the schedule. When I get back, we’re going to have a competition-speed, agility, and coordination, especially with teammates. If any of you beat me, I’ll practice with you more.”

“What’ll you be doin’?”

“Sleeping.”

Rainbow had steadfastly refused to do anything physical that week, even reneging on her health foods to binge at one of Pinkie’s parties. She hadn’t lost—far from it; she’d blown them out of the sky. Twilight hadn’t been surprised, of course. She’d been the one to teach Rainbow how to channel her emotions into her flying, and there was almost nothing Rainbow felt more strongly about than the Wonderbolts, and napping. Put them together, on the line, and, well . . . She was unbeatable.

Rainbow flopped over on her side, eyes firmly shut. Twilight gave up, rising from their bed and heading into the bathroom. There was nothing like a morning shower to get rid of drowsiness, not to mention her bed mane.

She stayed in the shower exactly five minutes, according to a timer on the wall. Not that there was anything wrong with taking longer, but she knew she’d be getting hungry soon, and she wanted food available.

Checking the shower off in her head, she headed into the kitchen, turning on the small stove and bringing a packet of waffles from the fridge, as well as oats for Rainbow. The pegasus was particular about breakfast, insisting on healthier food. She hadn’t hid her displeasure from Twilight when she’d learnt her culinary routine.

There was just something about waffles in the morning that had stuck with Twilight. She knew, intellectually, that Rainbow was right, but she could never resist the temptation. Besides, her work chewed through calories quickly-she’d never seen an overweight mage of any proficiency-and she wasn’t looking to put on muscle.

Twilight shook her head. There was no need to justify waffles in the morning. It was something nearly everypony ate. She should just stop thinking about it; stop the train circling in her head. Nor was the internal debate, a daily affair, going to change anything. But it felt right, it felt routine; breakfast; waffles and remonstration.

As Twilight set the food out on the table, levitating the spread in a purple haze, Rainbow appeared at her shoulder. Her mane was still tangled from sleep, blurring the colour gradient she normally wore so proudly. Few realised the extent Rainbow went to in order to preserve the integrity of the rainbow, each colour separated just so. It was just another little thing Twilight loved about her.

“Hey, Twi’. Sleep well?” Rainbow said, slipping into a chair beside Twilight. She grabbed a nearby glass of water, greedily sucking it down before burying her face in her oats.

“Fine, fine,” Twilight said absently. “You’re heading back to Canterlot this morning, aren’t you?”

Rainbow raised her head, oats clinging to her muzzle, as Twilight bit into a waffle.

“Yeah, I gotta check on the team, make sure we’re ready for next month. Show season’s coming up, so I’ll have less time off. You can’t wing coordination, no matter how good the Captain.”

“Mmm,” Twilight agreed, chuckling at Rainbow’s unintentional pun. “Could you give me a lift?”

Rainbow raised an eyebrow. “Of course. What are you doing in Canterlot?”

“Just visiting my brother. I thought it’d be nice to catch up,” Twilight said. She’d neglected to mention it to Rainbow, though not for any particular reason. In the absence of a ride into the city, she’d be able to teleport there, but she knew Rainbow’s schedule, and the dates had coincided perfectly.

“Been a while, hasn’t it?” Rainbow said. “Alright, just let me finish this and we’ll get going.”

“Sure.” Twilight’s attention wandered from her marefriend’s breakfast, drifting around the room. The kitchen held the morning light well, streaming it through a wide window over the bench, to pool around the legs of the table. The flowers in the middle gave the air a fresh fragrance, sweet without becoming cloying. Twilight took a deep breath, relaxing into the scene, just another player on the stage.

Their house-and her offices- was small, yes, but she hadn’t wanted a mansion. Twilight had grown up in a castle, and then spent years living in a tree. Luxury didn’t appeal to her the same way it did Rarity; she had sought the simpler pleasures. She was comfortable, here.

Rainbow sucked up the last of her oats with a loud slurp, disrupting the moment. Twilight made a face.

“Ready, Dashie?” she asked, telekinetically grabbing her saddlebags. She’d packed the night before, of course.

Rainbow left her bowl on the table, walking over to the door. Stepping outside, she stretched, arching her back into the air.

“Sure,” she said, looking back at Twilight. “Hop on.”

Rainbow spread her wings as Twilight clambered onto her back, reaching her hooves around Rainbow’s midsection. Pushing off the ground with her hooves, Rainbow gave a beat of her wings and they were gone, soaring through the air.

Over the years, Twilight had grown to love flying, though never as much as Rainbow, nor in the same way. For her, there was little as special as the take-off, the moment of release from the claw of gravity. It was a split second of transcendence, before physics took hold and Rainbow began the steady rhythm of wing strokes that kept them aloft.

The old train to Canterlot was still in use, of course. But Twilight wouldn’t have missed this, even if it wasn’t faster. She felt the wind moving through her mane, tousling it beyond all order. She saw the expanse below and above, its immensity. She moved through it with youthful ignorance, an exuberance that defied insignificance. Flight became a connection, however transparent, to the world around her.

All too soon, Rainbow slowed, approaching the Wonderbolts headquarters in the city. Touching down gently, she lowered a shoulder, allowing Twilight to regain her footing on the ground. Around them, several bystanders turned to look, excitedly gesturing. Twilight grimaced, though Rainbow smiled, nodding back.

“Thanks, Dashie,” Twilight said, nuzzling Rainbow’s shoulder. The onlookers didn’t bother her as much as they once would have; if nothing else, time had acclimatised her to their scrutiny.

“No problem, Twi’,” Rainbow said. “I’ll see you later?”

“How about dinner?”

“Sounds great. I’ll finish here around six-come by after you’ve seen Shining Armour.”

“Okay,” Twilight said, beginning to turn and walk away.

“And give him my regards,” Rainbow called after her, before turning herself, and entering the Wonderbolts headquarters. There was a great deal to do; her time off had seen to that. Even if her absence didn’t affect her personal performance, it would impact on squad-cohesion, carefully constructed out of friendship and camaraderie, as Spitfire had taught her. Rainbow’s regular absences, while something she wasn’t willing to give up, created a rift between her and her team. It would take time before she could fly perfectly synchronised with them.

It was to Rainbow’s endless relief that while her job entailed a great deal of paperwork, it came with several subordinates to scribe for her.

Twilight trotted through the Canterlot streets. She hadn’t found the opportunity to see her brother in some time, nor Cadance, despite their correspondence. She was eager to hear about the developments in the Crystal Empire. Trade agreements between Equestria and the nation had flourished under the guidance of the three princesses, particularly with the extension of the train-line into the heart of the Empire.

After their adventure in the Crystal Empire, Cadance in particular had wanted to lend a more active hoof to the reintegration of their society into the modern world. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it had been Luna who took charge of the process, but as time rolled on, Cadance had found herself spending more and more time in the frozen north. Eventually, she'd moved there completely, causing Shining Armour to resign from his position as Captain of the Royal Guard in order to follow his wife. He'd found a similar role there, serving his wife and princess in the Crystal Court.

Twilight hadn't seen her brother in almost a full year now, their spare time seemingly never coinciding. So when she heard he was visiting Canterlot for the week, she made sure to schedule time to meet. From their correspondence, Twilight knew Cadance had been experimenting with the Crystal Heart, but she knew tantalisingly little, and the magic of the Heart was similar to her own findings in Coromancy. Plus, it was a good excuse to see her brother.

Of all of Equestria’s cities, Canterlot had changed the least from Twilight’s youth. The same stores were open, the same ponies hawked goods in side-streets and alcoves. The same cafes, museums and offices rested gingerly on the mountain, old bones creaking in a choked maze of intersecting alleys. Stepping into the main square was like stepping into a memory. She smelt the aroma of warm bread, heard the tinkling of the fountain, felt the brush of chilled air across her muzzle.

It was colder up here, up high. Perhaps that was why the unicorns—living in proximity to the Royal Court—had developed a sense of fashion. They were more prone to wear clothes, after all; pegasi being naturally resilient to the cold, and earth ponies preferring to live closer to the ground. Twilight tucked the thought away, for later deliberation. Maybe she’d ask Rarity.

Twilight took a deep breath, feeling it relax her throat and lungs. Ponyville was her home, now, but she’d always have a special place for Canterlot in her heart. Making to move through the square, she paused as she glimpsed a figure beckoning her from the corner of her eye, Joe, from the old doughnut shop. It had always been Spike’s favourite, and despite Twilight’s reluctance at the time, Joe’s friendly manner and impeccable pastries had grown on her. Stepping over, she raised a hoof in greeting.

“Hello, Joe! How have you been?”

“Twilight Sparkle. Celestia, it’s good to see you again, kid,” Joe said, causing Twilight to snort.

“I’m over thirty, you old windbag,” she retorted. Joe chuckled, his smile lighting up his face.

“Of course you are. And what does a thirty-something unicorn do with her time, besides visit old doughnut makers?” Joe said, leading Twilight back into his store. The sound of the bell over the door sent a wave of nostalgia over Twilight. She closed her eyes for a second, breathing in the sweet scent of the pastries.

“I was visiting my brother, actually. But most of my time is spent doing fieldwork.” Twilight said, opening her eyes and taking a seat at the counter. Joe had returned to his station opposite her, taking out a rag and beginning to wipe the counter down.

“Shining Armour, eh? We’ve been missing him around here, you know.”

“Oh?”

“Sure.” Joe reached into the display case, taking out a doughnut and placing it on a plate in front of Twilight. “On the house, by the way.”

“Oh, Joe, you don’t have to-,” Twilight began.

“No, no,” Joe said, waving a hoof. “Maybe it’ll make you visit more often. Bring Spike along next time, there’s one in it for him, too.”

“I’m sure he’d love to,” Twilight said, taking a bite of the doughnut, lips turning upwards as crumbs fell from the corners of her mouth. Joe returned the smile, and then leaned forward.

“Say, Twilight, do you know an Aurora by any chance? Old school-friend, perhaps?”

“No, not that I recall,” Twilight said, frowning.

“Because there was somepony here yesterday, claiming to know you. Called herself Aurora, said she went to school with you. Asked a whole lot of questions.”

“Interesting. What did she look like?”

“Blue coat, silverish hair, about your age. Cutie mark was a wand, spraying sparkles.”

“That sounds like . . . Trixie,” Twilight said slowly. “Now what is she up to?”

“You do know her?”

“Yes, at least I think I do. There was a travelling showpony by that description, came through Ponyville twice, years ago. First time she just stirred up some trouble. Second time, though, she came in with the Alicorn Amulet. We never did find out where she’d gotten her hooves on that thing.”

“Alicorn Amulet?”

“Just some old artefact; it grants immense magical power to the bearer. Of course, the longer you have it, the more it corrupts you.”

“That seems . . . remarkably dangerous.”

“Yes, yes it is.” Twilight shook her head. “But that’s all years ago. Why would Trixie suddenly have an interest in me? She’s never sought me out before.”

“She mentioned a brother, in need of medical help. Something magical, the doctor’s couldn’t help. Said she remembered you, and was hoping you’d be able to do something.”

“If the doctors couldn’t help, Celestia herself would want to take a look.”

“Princess Celestia,” Joe said reprovingly.

“Mmm,” Twilight murmured, lost in thought.

She must want something . . . some favour, maybe, or another duel. She couldn’t hope to go up against an Arch-Magus, though . . . maybe she really does have a sick brother . . . brother.

Twilight sat straight up.

“Oh gosh, I forgot the time! Joe, it’s been really nice catching up, we’ll have to do it again sometime, but I have to go now, thank you for the doughnut!” she said, bolting out from the store.

Collecting herself, Twilight envisioned the train station. Shining should be arriving any minute now, and while it was only about ten minutes away at a trot, she wanted to be there to greet him.

Gathering energy in her horn, Twilight reached out, and drew herself through space, along the Canterlot ley-lines. The nexus she'd installed in Ponyville had been modelled after Canterlot's, a means of circumventing some of the flaws in teleportation.

One couldn't teleport somewhere they'd never been, unless there was a ley-line connecting the two places, and even though Twilight had been to the station, using the ley-line made the task easier, requiring less energy. On top of that, ley-lines connected to safe zones, which ponies would know to leave clear. While the user could feel any obstruction in the field and cancel the spell, it made for less congestion, particularly when there were strings of unicorns waiting to use the network.

She came out near the station, trotting the rest of the way. The train had already arrived, and as she watched, Twilight saw the train’s doors open, the few passengers beginning to disembark and workers start to lift off the cargo, brought down from the north.

“Twily!” a voice called from behind her. Turning, Twilight caught a glimpse of her brother, running through the crowd.

“Shiny!” she called back, running forward to meet him. They met in a fierce hug, revelling in their reunion, before parting.

“I’ve missed you, kid,” he said, pulling back to regard her.

“How was the trip?” Twilight asked.

“Fine, fine,” he said, turning to collect his luggage.

“And Cadance?” She followed Shining’s lead as he began to walk towards the exit.

“She’s fine, Twily. We’ve been keeping pretty busy. But come now, I want to hear about you! What’s my little Arch-Magus doing to keep herself busy?” he said. Twilight blushed.

“Oh, you know, research, mostly. Fieldwork.”

“Oh?” Shining said, smiling. “When did you give up on reading every book in Equestria?”

“Ten years ago, when I did,” Twilight said. Shining Armour stopped, giving Twilight a wide-eyed stare.

“You’re not serious!”

“No, of course not, Shiny. Nopony could read that much, not even me,” Twilight said. “Besides, I had to specialise eventually, and there aren’t any books in this field to read.”

“Really? What are you working on? Surely there’d be books on everything.”

“Not on this there aren’t. Believe me, I’ve looked. Consider it pioneering, if you like.”

Shining Armour chuckled. “Okay, little sister. Pioneering new fields of magic, huh. Guess you aren’t so little anymore.”

“Maybe not, but you’ll always be my big brother.”

“Guess that means I can call you whatever I want, eh?” Shining said, smiling.

“Guess it does,” Twilight replied.

They walked side-by-side through the Canterlot streets, enjoying each other’s company. The conversation continued, drifting between trivial matters and secret confessions, thriving on intimacy as they reaffirmed and renewed their bond.

The reunion, however, was cut short as they approached the palace.

“Hey, kid,” Shining said, placing emphasis on the kid with a grin. “Sorry to cut this short, but as much as I want to catch up, I need to put my things away, and report to the Princess. I’ll meet you in, say, a few hours?”

“Oh . . . I guess so, sure,” Twilight said, pouting.

“Thanks, Twily. I appreciate coming down to the station for me, but some of this is private. You understand?”

“Of course. Go on, then,” Twilight said, making a shooing motion. She did understand, as much as it rankled; she couldn’t have told him much about her work either. Some things were better left private.

“I’ll see you soon!” Shining called as he headed up into the castle. Twilight hadn’t even noticed where they’d been headed; she’d been so caught up in the reunion.

While her brother’s hasty departure was annoying, it left her an hour in Canterlot. Joe had said that Trixie had been asking about her just yesterday; she was probably still here, and now she had the time to chase her down. Twilight strode purposefully away from the castle, heading down the hill towards the marketplace. Somepony had to have seen her. Who knows, maybe Trixie really did have a sibling in need of help.

“So you don’t recognise this picture? Nopony you’ve seen around here recently?” Twilight asked, levitating a portrait she’d conjured in front of the shopkeepers face.

“Look, miss, are you going to buy something?”

“Well . . . no.”

“I haven’t seen her. Now please, get out of my shop. You’re holding everypony up.”

Twilight looked around at the vacant store, and then shook her head, holding her hoof to her face. “Fine, fine, I’ll go,” she said, turning to leave.

Twilight had spent the better part of her time moving around the various hubs in the city, asking after Trixie. It was frustrating work, not only did it seem that nopony had even heard of the mare, but they grew . . . irritable after the realisation that she wasn’t interested in buying anything.

Sighing, she turned to head back to the castle. She’d have to ask Rarity to pinpoint Trixie for her, after she got back to Ponyville. Twilight, turning a corner, trotted down a street, spying a jewellery store on her left. One more couldn’t hurt.

Twilight skipped the queue, pushing in front of the ponies waiting their chance to inspect the wares. She’d never had much patience for such frivolous waste, and certainly couldn’t afford to obey the sensibilities of the onlookers at the moment. Still, her actions earned her more than a few hard stares and cries from those nearer the back.

There were a few ponies staffing the counter, with one standing behind the register, wearing a vest and bowtie to accompany a stiff back and slight sneer. Twilight sighed inwardly, almost turning around then and there. They had adopted the peculiar tactic of pretending she didn’t exist, nopony even glancing in her direction. A not-so-subtle indictment of cutting in line.

Instead, approaching the counter, she smiled, flashing him the whites of her teeth before she began.

“Excuse me, I was hoping you could tell me if you recognise this pony,” Twilight said, hovering the photo forward onto the counter.

Almost despite himself, the manager glanced downwards, eyes immediately widening.

“Her! You’re looking for that . . . that . . .!” he cried, backing off and throwing his hooves in the air. Twilight felt herself grinning, this time genuinely.

“You know her?” she pressed, leaning onto the counter.

“Know her?” he said. “Know her?!” Spinning around, he stormed into the back room, ranting loudly. Twilight watched, shocked. She’d been fishing for a response, certainly, but that was just excessive.

One of the staff members leaned over, quietly whispering to her.

“She came in here about a week ago, made off with half a thousand bits,” he said.

“Trixie stole from here?!”Twilight exclaimed.

“So that’s her name,” the pony said. “Yeah, her and that partner of hers. None of us are really clear on the details, though. We’ve already spoken with police. You could check with them.”

Twilight heard a loud noise from the back room. It sounded remarkably like somepony putting their hoof through the wall.

“I see. Ah, perhaps I should go,” Twilight said.

“That might be best, yes,” the pony agreed.

“Thanks for your help,” Twilight said, hurriedly leaving the store. Outside, the ponies waiting in line continued to shoot her glances, though nopony said anything.

Trixie had been shoplifting, with a partner. To be honest, that didn’t come as much of a surprise; even though in Twilight’s experience the showmare had mostly stuck to legitimate means of earning her living. Her attitude had spoken of a lonely soul, somepony who protected herself from the cold nights and empty roads that made up her life through an utter conviction in her superiority.

It wasn’t a large leap from there to petty theft, particularly in desperate situations. What was it Trixie had said? Twilight struggled to remember, but even with her vaunted memory, it had been a long time ago, and even then she hadn’t paid a great deal of attention to it.

It had been something about . . . a farm. Twilight frowned. That sounded right, but . . . working on a farm was a decent job, especially for a unicorn. Not just any farm, then . . . a rock farm!

Working there, perhaps? Twilight winced. Even setting aside the work, that must have been a huge blow to her ego. For somepony who took such pride in her magical prowess, reduced to menial labour . . . it wasn’t so much that the work was beneath her, though Twilight could see Trixie believing that. It was just that it implied a separation from her element. Trixie, as a unicorn, if nothing else, was tied to magic. Being unable to support herself through that talent . . .

Perhaps Twilight hadn’t been as understanding as she could have been. Ponyville, certainly, had been accepting; content to simply watch Trixie’s show, even if it did humiliate some of their own. Harmless laughs, for the most part. Even the Ursa’s appearance was mere happenstance, an honest mistake arising from Trixie’s own grandiose appearance.

What worried Twilight was the sudden thought that her own behaviour had been lacking. Even then, still so new to friendship, she’d understood the basics of social interaction. But none of them, not Applejack, or Rarity, or Rainbow or even Fluttershy or Twilight herself had tried to befriend her. Despite everything Pinkie had said about Gilda just the week before, she’d made no attempt to know Trixie, to understand her story. Perhaps that was why she’d come back.

The Alicorn Amulet corrupted those who wore it, Twilight knew. Trixie’s actions while under her influence were not her own, and she had apologised before leaving. She was accountable, yes. But still, Twilight had merely confronted her. Even then, after all her time studying friendship, she’d treated Trixie’s appearance as the return of a rival, of an enemy. Why? How much of the blame lay in Twilight’s assumptions? Perhaps she’d simply been reacting in kind, presenting those she found with what they were looking for.

And then, after Twilight had defeated her—using friendship, no less—she’d had the gall to stand above her, victorious and accept her apology with no more of an explanation than the rock farm. Small wonder she was now stealing.

Past failures aside, though, for some reason Trixie now needed her help; both with the sick brother, and now with this crime. Perhaps it was understandable, that she’d fallen so far, and Celestia had always said that understanding bred empathy. But even so, she’d broken the law.

Twilight stopped walking, having arrived in front of the castle. She was in luck; her brother was just coming down the steps, luggage absent. Smiling she began to walk forward to meet him.

In the back of her mind, she was making a list. Trixie had just become a priority. Even if she wasn’t in need, Twilight felt compelled to seek her out, try to make amends. It would have to make up for the opportunities she’d missed, all those years ago.

Author's Note:

Notes: Chapter Four

Comments

[Ladrian]

The Veil... A veil against Sight? A veil over a specific time that stops seers from seeing? Need some time manipulation magic. Or to go check out the Remembrance mountains. They sound like they might help. Although "Seek yourself; not in memory..." They might not help.

Poor Luna. Even if time does go faster for her wherever she is, still.

Also still don't know the powers of a Dreamer, so I look forward to seeing that.

Heh, "Looking forward" XD

She’d been the one to teach Rainbow how to channel her emotions into her flying, and there was almost nothing Rainbow felt more strongly about than the Wonderbolts, and napping. Put them together, on the line, and, well . . . She was unbeatable.

...This has got to be cheating. Or something. This is terrible.

From their correspondence, Twilight knew Cadance had been experimenting with the Crystal Heart, but she knew tantalisingly little, and the magic of the Heart was similar to her own findings in Coromancy. Plus, it was a good excuse to see her brother.

But more importantly, the Crystal Heart. And magic.

It was colder up here, up high. Perhaps that was why the unicorns-living in proximity to the Royal Court-had developed a sense of fashion. They were more prone to wear clothes, after all; pegasi being naturally resilient to the cold, and earth ponies preferring to live closer to the ground.

Naw, it's cuz it's easier to hide a knife when you always wear clothes. And Unicorns do so love stabbing people in the back. OOHHHHH BUUUUURN!
But seriously, the bad guys are always unicorns. Don't trust 'em.
Also seriously, I totally love unicorns the best. Pegasi and Earth Ponies literally can't hold a mote of light to them.

“Thanks, Twily. I appreciate coming down to the station for me, but some of this is private. You understand?”

I feel that since Twi has the complete faith (ha, ironic turns of phrase) of the ruler of Equestria, and is an extremely capable arch-mage, every problem can only get closer to being solved by letting Twi have a crack at it.

Twilight had spent the better part of her time moving around the various hubs in the city, asking after Trixie. It was frustrating work, not only did it seem that nopony had even heard of the mare, but they grew . . . irritable after the realisation that she wasn’t interested in buying anything.

JUST WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK I AM!?!?!
*horn starts glowing, then sends a spiraling purple blast into the sky*

Awesome. Good job, Joe. Also good for Twilight, going on the offensive, even if she doesn't know it's a fight yet. Actually, I don't even know it's a fight yet. Maybe if I hope hard enough and just act like it's a fight, I can twist the fabric of reality three years ago when this was written and make it a fight. Yeah. That sounds perfect.

Also Poor Trixie. I hope Twi and Trixie become good friends. Don't get jelly, tho, Dash.