> The Woes of Scorpan
>  by articunos bitch
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Present 1-Ponyville Library
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Princess Twilight Sparkle looked up when the bell above the library door opened to see Lyra Heartstrings, who called out to her.

“Hi Twilight. Do you have any maps of Appleloosa? Or the lands surrounding it?”

“Hi Lyra. Um, maps are over here. Dewey says 905 is Serial Publications. Appleloosa may be in the table of contents.” 

She lead Lyra over to the 900’s and checked random books on the shelf. “Why Appleloosa? I think asking buffalo tribes would give you a better idea of what’s out there than pegasi drawn maps.”

“I just need to double check something. Also, could you cast a few EverSpring Spells for me?”

Twilight dropped an encyclopedia of maps on her head. Shaking away the stars in front of her eyes she sputtered. “An-An EVERSPRING Spell?! Lyra, that’s serious magic. What are you doing?”

“I’m going on an archaeological dig. Next week if I can manage.”

“Lyra,” Twilight patiently explained. “Appleloosa was founded less than four years ago. And only as a farm for a silver mine three kilometers away. The buffalo never built anything more than tents that far out, Lyra. What could you possibly be looking for?”

“If I told you, you would stop me. It’s crazy, but I’m not going to be stopped. So the less you know the better.” Lyra turned away and hung her head.

“Wait, are you in danger?” Twilight leaped to her side and drifted a wing across Lyra’s body. “Is somepony after you? You can tell me. I can keep a secret Lyra.”

“Could you keep a secret from Celestia?” She turned back and looked Twilight in the eye without a hint of irony.

The statement took Twilight by surprise. “Uh-wai-Huh?”

“Yeah. I don’t want anypony, least of all Princess Celestia, to know what I’m doing. No, I’m not in danger. But what I’m doing might be. And I have to do it Twilight. I just have to.” Lyra grabbed the encyclopedia with her mouth, walked away, sat at one of the tables and started flipping through pages by hoof.

Seeing it was nearly closing time, Twilight locked up early and sent Spike to bring Rarity the hooficure set she borrowed. When they were alone Twilight sat opposite of Lyra and began slowly.

“Lyra, you can tell me anything. I know we’re not the best of friends but you can trust me. I promise not to tell anypony what you’re doing. Unless keeping this secret hurts someone. Okay?”

She was met with a set of yellow/gold eyes. “Especially Celestia?”

“I Pinkie Promise not to tell anypony your secret, especially Princess Celestia. Unless somepony's getting hurt.” She went through the motions and smiled peacefully. Her curiosity would not be satisfied until Lyra spilled the beans.

She sighed, pushed the book aside and sighed. “About three or four nights before the Summer Sun Celebration three years ago, I started having these weird dreams. I was walking on the beach or the desert, and the sun was eclipsed. Every time I try walking from the moon’s shadow the sun burns me. It is hot, hot, hot Twilight. I thought it was a desert because the sun burned everything away, but that comes up later.

“So I’m going through the desert and the moon is the only thing keeping me alive. I’m cool, calm, and I’m walking east. Just walking. It was vivid but nothing to really mention. But I had this dream about every night. Walking under the moon and the sun burns me if I go too far away.

“Then I’m…in a mountain. I don’t know how to describe it. I’m literally walking through a mountain. I should be scared, but I’m not. I know I’m safe and, yeah.

“Then I’m walking through this field and there is this hill of stone nearby. I don’t have any idea what it is but I scoff at it. Why Twilight? I see it in my mind and it’s a small hill of stone, but at the same time it’s pathetic. I don’t get it. Then I cross this river and I see a castle. It’s big, it’s old, and I feel safe there. Something makes me happy just to be here and…that’s all there is.”

“Soo, what do your dreams have to do with a dig?” Twilight asked, trying to connect the dots.

Lyra continued. “I normally walked through only one place a night; the desert, the mountain or the grassland to the castle. But then I had them all at once and that kept going for months. I’ve never been bothered by this dream but it was annoying.

“Then I went to Appleloosa to see a cousin of mine last week and things clicked. I saw this rock standing fifty meters tall. The buffalo called it Salt Rock, not that there’s any salt in it. Hehe, Ajax and I got drunk and went out to lick the rock. Nasty stuff.” Lyra finished sheepishly.

“I know. I tried it, tastes like sand.” Twilight remembered her first time in Appleloosa. After they diffused the situation with the buffalo Braeburn showed them the rock.

“Yeah. So I had the same dream that night and I realized Salt Rock is in it. I walk right past Salt Rock almost every time I sleep. How did I not recognize at once? I stayed awake the whole time on the train ride trying to figure out what to do.

“I walked for hours, maybe days or even weeks through the desert, then the mountain, and finally the grasslands. I know exactly where I start and which direction to go. I think there’s something out there Twilight. I think there is a castle east of Appleloosa, maybe beyond the mountain range. I want to see if it’s there. If it is I’m going to excavate and take it apart piece by piece.”

Twilight Sparkle took a deep breath and levitated a paper and quill in between the two of them. “Lyra, you are being crazy and I will stop you if you’re serious. Mainly, there’s nothing east of Appleloosa. Nothing but sand and rock. There’s no rivers, no water at all so there’s no plants. They sent surveyors out to look and pegasi got two days out before they ran through half their water. They found nothing but sand and rocks. No mountains, no grassland, no castle. That was a two day flight, a little more than a three day walk.

“I think they’re wrong Twilight. Also, there’s another dream I had. Just once but…” Lyra countered.

“What? Go on.”

Lyra sighed again. “I had a dream about walking through the grassland again, only this time the moon and sun moved around. Every time the sun touched me, it hurt. Not just a burn but-I got really scared. Like, it consciously wanted to hurt ME. Why would it to that Twilight? The sun wanted to just…burn away all the grassland and…and the Moon was the only thing stopping it. Then the sun turned into Princess Celestia and the moon into Princess Luna. Only it wasn't Luna, it was Nightmare Moon.

"She landed right next to me and told me to stay close, she would protect me. I felt safe Twilight. I know everypony else was scared of Nightmare Moon when she came to Ponyville, but in this dream, I felt safe. I know no-one would ever hurt me if I was next to her because she…she loved me. My mother gave me that exact same look whenever I cried about being picked on for my magic.

“Princess Celestia was trying to hurt me and Nightmare Moon was keeping me safe. I don’t know everything it means but I don’t trust Celestia knowing what I want to do. It doesn't seem right to me.”

“Lyra, that is absolutely ridiculous. Nightmare Moon keeping you safe? It. Was. A. Dream. All you had were dreams. You can’t go out looking for a castle you've only seen in a dream. Besides, where would you go? Appleloosa is a small town on the edge of nowhere.” Twilight explained.

“I have a plan Twilight. I will head east, just like in my dream. I will bring canned food, the water they sit in will keep me hydrated, and that’s why I was hoping you could cast an EverSpring Spell for me. If my canteen never runs out of water I will have to carry only one. A first aid kit, flares, rope, I got this Twilight.”

“Lyra, where would you go? Just walk east?”

“I’ll find my way. I have flags to put in the ground so I can find my way back too.”

“It’s just not that easy. You can’t do this! It’s insane-“

“Twilight Sparkle, you and I could argue this all night, but I am going to do this. If you don’t want me to go alone, join me. I could use the company. You’ll have to bring your own food, water-

“Lyra, why would I come with you on this ridiculously dangerous trip?”

“So I won’t go alone. Now you’ll need you own food and water, sleeping bag, once we get to the dig site you would help me document the place. I got plenty of blank notebooks, shovels; I have an extra camera if you need one.”

Twilight rubbed her eyes in frustration. You’re serious aren't you? You are actually going to go through with all this and short of breaking your legs I can’t stop you?”

“No. Twilight, I need to do this. Something is calling me and I have to answer it. This is personal to me. Haven’t you ever been the only one who can do something and stop at nothing until it’s done?”

Closing her eyes, Twilight thought back to just three months ago, the day she earned her wings. Her five best friends trapped in each other’s lives, certain that they were where they were supposed to be…

“I-I think I know what you mean. It’s just…it seems like a bad idea.”

“Then come with me. Either we find something or we don’t.”

“Well, next week? What day?”

“The next train runs to Appleloosa Monday night and will get there in the morning. We will buy a little more food and set out at sunset to avoid the worst of the heat. Then again it may be a bit nippy but I can live with that.”

“Traveling at night has nothing to do with Nightmare Moon does it?”

“No it does not. Will you join me Twilight Sparkle?” Lyra held out her hoof and Twilight took it after a moment’s hesitation. Twilight did trust Lyra, they knew each other when they went to Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns and both moved to Ponyville, though for different reasons. While Twilight attended to learn magic, Lyra was crippled when it came to magic, never conjuring more than sparks from her horn.

Lyra worked day and night digging up the castle Twilight and her new friends rediscovered in the Everfree forest. As an archaeology student it was too good an opportunity to pass up, and she had little problem working alone after her classmates went back to school a semester later. Her room-mate Bon Bon never really cared for Twilight and her friends, but Lyra got along fine when their paths crossed.

“Well that settles that. So, if I bring a few by canteens tomorrow can you do an EverSpring Spell on them?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m not climbing any mountains though. If we can’t walk through a mountain we’re turning back. Got it?”

“Got it Twi. Thank you again.” She left her book, hitched up her saddle pack and left for home while Twilight finished closing up the library and went to bed.

She sighed, relaxed her wings and figured she should write to Celestia tomorrow about her journey, or at least what she was allowed to say. (stupid impulsive promises)
> Past 1-Final Exam
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The egg was from Diablo, the Red Dragon Father. It was the most prized plunder from one of his enemies cave's and now it rested before the young wizard Scorpan. It was colored purple and green and could lay dormant for a century without affecting the baby’s growth after it hatched. Heat from a fire could awaken it and that was the task, but there was one rule: no fire. Hatching a dragon’s egg without a fire is no small task, but his teachers thought it would present a good challenge for Scorpan. So here he sat starring at the egg nervously waiting for his instructor Professor Freeze to let him start.

“You have thirty minutes. Begin.”

Heat, but no fire. Got it. Scorpan thought to himself.

He started thinking of ways he could start. He could put it under pressure. But that could crush the egg before he got the pressure and temperatures he needed and harm the baby, so no. Nuclear reactions also entered his mind and were discarded just as fast. It would be impractical at best; he could not compact fissile materials inside the egg in time, nor was he skilled enough to contain what fallout might leak. And again, he wanted to heat it up, not cook the egg. He could still use electricity.

Reaching into his sack Scorpan withdrew a spool of copper wire, a hand operated dynamo and one of his own inventions. Wrapping the thin wire many times around the large egg he attached an end to the positive and negative side of his Current Multiplier and attached that to his dynamo.

Gripping the handle Scorpan started cranking and watched in anticipation. His Multiplier may not work for long distances but it was perfect here, it’s magic would give him up to twenty times the voltage he could do by hand power alone. In minutes the egg started to glow shades of purple and green, he cast a Perpetual Motion spell on his crank to avoid fatiguing and distracting himself. The door opened behind him and he heard footsteps coming into the room and at least three chairs being moved around.

Continuing the egg glowed brighter and cracks along the wire’s path formed when he snapped his fingers. Casting a vacuum charm he expelled most air from around the egg, giving the energy in his wire no place to go but the egg shell.
Cracks in the shell started growing between the wires too, a dominant one grew diagonally across the width of the egg. 

Scorpan looked at the hourglass; he still had time but it there may be another way to speed this up. He lifted the egg off the table where it lay and kept his vacuum charm around it, now the heat had absolutely no place to go but to hatch the dragon.

The egg now glowed as a light bulb; pieces of shell began to fall off the levitated egg, revealing a membrane just under the surface. Casting another spell on his dynamo Scorpan knew his task would be over soon, but his instructor’s face was just as stoic as ever. Reaching into his pack he pulled out a pair of dragon hide gloves and filled a pail. If the baby dragon turned on him they would protect him from bites, if baby realized he wasn't the mother, he could douse himself with water.

More of the membrane was revealed and Scorpan thought he could make out a purple blur beneath the cloudy sack.

“You have five minutes left.” His instructor called out behind him. He was close-

“Uh-oh.”

The membrane was smoking. Being so hot for so long Scorpan figured it would be inflammable, but perhaps there was a tear and air flowing into the sack, burning it from the inside out. As he studied it more smoky trails appeared and the remaining pieces of shell fell off the membrane.

The remnants of the egg sagged downwards and split, dropping fluids and a pale purple lump to the table. Scorpan tossed aside the still smoking membrane and leaped over to the lump which stirred. The newborn dragon rolled to look at him and coughed up the amniotic fluids it nearly swallowed.

It was a male dragon with green spines running down his back. His long tail swished lazily before he turned his head and unmistakably fell asleep. Being cold blooded it was no surprise; this was early spring after all.

The instructor came over clapping his hands. “Full marks! Congratulations Scorpan, you have passed your final exam. Your time here is over. I fully expect to see you return to this school one day for any number of reasons, such as out-shining all your classmates. You have a bright future ahead of you. Good job.”

“Professor Freeze, what will happen to the dragon?” Scorpan looked to the slumbering reptile, it looked so pitiful…

“It will be euthanized of course.” Freeze said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“What? Why exactly?”

“Dragons are dangerous. Releasing it into the wild would kill it as easily as if it were a newborn child. It has no wings so its uses are already limited, and no dragon will raise a baby who’s not their own or an egg of their enemy that they hatched. We will put up notices for…him around town. If some-one wants a servant they can take him but few know how to raise dragon servants.”

“I…I see. Thank you Professor. Is that everything?”

“Indeed. You may go.”

Scorpan picked up his equipment into his pack and briskly walked out into the hall. Staring down each direction he turned left and strolled toward the library. In all my time here I have logged fewer than twenty four hours of reading for pleasure in the library. He could pick up The Beyond’s, a comic his room-mate had been bugging him about for a year.

Stepping out into the sunshine he took a deep breath. The grass was freshly mowed, the wind blew his rebellious shoulder length hair, and the few students not in class were relaxing in the shade of the oak, redwood and hickory trees dotting the campus. Continuing onto the library Scorpan’s mind didn't wander home where his parents would be expecting him next week. He didn't think about the redheaded Baugh, or her invitation so see the grifball game tomorrow night. His thoughts settled on the dragon he hatched.

It was sad how the egg was passed around. It had been given to Professor Rueben during one of his field expeditions. Prof Rueben found the home of Diablo, the self-proclaimed Red Dragon Father, but so did another dragon. He was just there to talk and challenge Diablo to a game of wits, but his magic helped beat back the invading dragon and Diablo was grateful. Normally dragons will kill another who comes onto their territory without consent, unless they bring a gift. Being so dangerous, dragons often grew lonely and were often delighted when a human presented them with offerings be it jewelry, works of art or something else of value. Some people tried bringing slaves, but the dragon would often eat the master and present the slave with an item of their horde. What dragons most approved of was conversation such as a game of riddles or philosophical debate.

Prof. Rueben for his actions was given an egg from one of Diablo’s enemies. He said it was the surest prove the eggs mother was as any mother would die before letting another near her children. Rueben then gave the egg to the school as he had no use for such a thing. And then it was given to Scorpan for a test. And now if no-one needs a dragon pet or whatever the baby’s going to be put down.

He felt bad for it. There wasn't much he could do though. At least if the dragon had wings he could be given to the state and trained for war.

Climbing the steps into the Library of Enlightenment, he looked for and found the comics he was told of. The Beyonds, issue Sixty-Seven. Taking a seat where he could be spotted easily he updated himself.

Previously: 1) Cassandra returned a week after her disappearance with Sirus. “He didn’t say a word all week. He just sat against that damn stone and…” Sirus can’t hide the secret of the Stone of LaFlail from her for long!
2) Ian and Brett travel to New Mexico to fight the Daughters of the Serpentine’s latest money laundering scheme. <tattattattat BOOM!> “Brett, the planes moving. Don’t let it take off. <Boom!> Brett!”
3) And Doctor Arnold has shocking news for Sirus. “The Sword or Nurada has been found. Your Ghost wields it. And it is every bit as powerful as your Spear of Lugh is in your hands. But most damning of all, he cut down Alicia”
“He had no reason to do so, unless he knows she has the Cauldron of Dugrad. Then he will come after the Stone next.”
“Cassandra already called me, your Ghost is coming for her tonight and she said she will be taken alive. She is in great danger, and unless we get Ian to her there is nothing we can do!

The first panel was a young woman lying on her bed staring at the ceiling. She could blend into a crowd, nothing particularly beautiful about her. Not even the purple and green shirt she wore…

That dragon deserved better than to be passed around like currency

She seemed to be troubled, apparently she knew she was going to be kidnapped that night and just sat in bed all day waiting for it to happen. Her super power wasn’t so super Scorpan figured; she saw what would happen but be powerless to stop it. Her twin brother Ian could change it, if only he were in New Hampshire instead of New Mexico…

If only I knew how to subdue a dragon. I could take him. Mother and father would understand, though they would not help. He thought somberly.

Cassandra also remembered Sirus questioning his Ghost who tonight would call himself Xex. Maybe she should have told Dr. Arnold that name. No…Forger WOULD know that name, or at least figure something out about it first.

There had to be a book about raising young dragons for servitude or something around here. Scorpan dropped the comic he couldn’t pay attention to and ruffled through the card catalogue. He heard something about the infamous Dracon taming a dragon from the wild and writing about his experience.


** ** **


Scorpan was half-right. Dracon tamed many dragons from the wild and wrote a simple How-To book on the subject. For being so successful in slaying them in his young life, he grew to be just as proficient in raising them, even spending several years learning from breeders in Avlee and Nighon. Much of his book was about an already hatched fairy dragon he discovered after slaying it’s mother. He named her Content.

Content, being a fairy dragon was mischievous in her nature, but with Dracon as such a powerful wizard she drove herself to be an absolute troll. He loved her like his own daughter, which was the first rule the book mentioned. Do not raise any dragon, excluding fairies, to be children. Per their name, Fairy dragons can cast magic outstripping most humans, never grow more than a meter tall and have the capacity to live seamlessly alongside human beings without violence. They will lash out if they feel provoked but are relaxed much of the time.

Unique among dragons they do not claim territory and have no specific breeding season and are far more relaxed when they don’t breed, as well as being able to masturbate to satisfy their own desires. Dragons develop sexual urges early in life and will act on them soon unless they are taught otherwise. They also do not horde as they prefer to find pleasure in surprising others, mostly rudely but pleasantly from time to time. As a baby dragons typically sleep six hours and then awaken for another six creating a twelve hour day. Departing from this habit often stunts their growth and surprisingly appetite.

While true omnivores, dragons prefer meat while young and vegetation when they reach maturity. Stones of all variety are craved when their diet is not satisfied properly; most common of all when they take in little meat. If your dragon is eating stones, immediately change their diet to include more protein and fat. Their scales are resistant to most disease and they will shed scales should they become infected. Only respertory illness affect dragons, and they develops early, if at all.
Armed with his knowledge of caring for a fairy dragon (which Scorpan deduced that the baby was) and a length he strutted to Professor Freezes office three days later and asked to see the infant.

Prof. Freeze was genuinely surprised to see the dragon react positively when he and Scorpan entered the broom closet where his cage was being kept. Scorpan knelt down in front of the reptile and held out his hand to be sniffed.

“Did you by any chance read ‘A Fool and his Dragon’ by Estes?” Professor Freeze asked

“Should I have?” Scorpan answered.

“It’s about a foolish young man who adopts a young dragon. Sound familiar? I’m sure Dracon told you a great deal, but the foolish young man was eaten by his pet.”

Scorpan turned around and stood to face his teacher. “Professor, Dracon also taught me how to keep my dragon young. And the fool tried to raise a son, something I am not going to be foolish enough to do. And I will feed him a strict diet of field rats, birds and fish. He will grow very slowly and his first lesson will be to serve sentient beings. I am not raising a son, but training a servant.”

“I thought you checked out Dracon’s book.” Professor Freeze was reminded of himself whenever he spoke with Scorpan. Eager to be the best, and eager to do the best, Scorpan would certainly help out a defenseless vulnerable soul such as the dragon. Professor Freeze looked for Dracon’s book yesterday and seeing it was out, waited in his office for the one student who would care about a baby dragon being euthanized. “You know this…child…isn't the same breed as Content?”

“I know sir. But I read other material about them. He is of the same genus and will act similar. More importantly he will have similar brain power and lack of muscles. And magic.”

“You have fulfilled the requirements, you may take the dragon. He’s your problem now.” With a flick of his finger the cage became unlocked and the door swung open. Scorpan reached wrapped his rope into a sailors’ knot he learned two springs ago and tied it around the baby’s neck. Guiding him out of the cage and broom closet Scorpan held tight as he sniffed around, no doubt smelling the hundreds of students who walk through the same hall every day. “What will you do now?”

“I’m going to take him to my dorm and pack up, talking the whole time. He should learn speech quickly enough.” Scorpan replied.

“Do you have a name in mind?” Professor Freeze asked.

“Not yet. I’ll come up with something. And I will make sure to see you before I leave for good. Good day Professor.” Scorpan started to his dormitory and guided his new dragon along.
> Past 2-First Hand Experience
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Being the first to step out of the circle, Prince Scorpan wandered off and took in his new surroundings. He heard firsthand reports of this place, saw the pictures along with vegetation, soil and rock samples. But none of that compared to the breathtaking beauty that man had hardly glanced at. The colors struck him first. They were so…defined.

The overcast sky was so many more shades of grey than he imagined. Back in Ur, he had 20/35 vision, but here he could still make out individual needles on the pine trees off in the distance. Maybe the land lent him superior vision? Kneeling down, he smelled the soil: the rain that recently fell on it, the animal dropping that decayed into it, even the rocks that were ground to make it. Lifting his head, he heard thunder in the distance. Perhaps the summer storm was rolling away, or coming back. He would sell his hand to experience the rain in this world. They would stay here a week, so he had more than enough time to feel natural rain or even a pegasi created rain on his skin. If his wife Baugh was here, she would be scolding him for taking too much time for a “first experience,” at the same time she would be jealous for his attention. But she decided to stay home this trip. “I can always go later. Knowing you, you're are going to plan many more trips to that world.” He suspected she was feeling ill again. She never could handle stress well.

A whole world had been discovered apart from their own. Filled with talking magical animals, colors to make their home world seem as dull as an early picture, and untouched by the hands of man. Only accessible by skilled wizards and their Talis cycles, Scorpan learned everything he could from the scientists and wizards who visited only months ago. Being a man of science, Scorpan knew enough about what man did not know to not be surprised that other worlds existed. And learning that they had not just life, but sentient, intelligent, capable life was astounding.

Technically he was a civilian on this voyage, but he was also financing this individual trip. He did not have any “assigned” task, but it was his money and he came to explore and conduct his own experiments. Pulling out a watch, a weight, and a protractor he measured the height of a tree, marking twelve meters off. Magically levitating his weight to the mark, he dropped it the same instant he activated his watch.

Thud. The first drop was measured at 1.5 seconds, just like in their home world. His next two attempts both measured at 1.6 seconds, but he already calculated (and experimented) that a twelve meter drop would take 1.58 seconds in his world. And not having access to a more accurate watch right now gave him a rounding error for an answer. But he could conclude that this new world had approximately. 1G of gravity. Tonight he could start figuring out the planet's diameter. He doubted he would get an accurate answer this trip but it was worth a try.

Looking to the sky again he saw a pink dot flying under the clouds. That might just be one of the talking animals the previous scientists mentioned. This lands primary inhabitants seemed to be equines of three varieties: calling themselves Earth Ponies, Unicorns, and Pegasi. They also mentioned alicorns, but never specified what an alicorn was, having never seen one in person, but they spoke about them with awe, almost reverence. They spoke of other species as well, but they were yet to be seen.

The pink dot started growing and was coming towards him specifically. The ponies had not been judged to be hostile, more “dim-witted.” The scientists before had not seen them actually work, but learning about them was one of his own little projects. If humans were to live here, they would need to avoid hostilities with the locals, so what better way than to speak with them himself?

The pegasus hovered above and looked at him questionably. For an equine, it had a surprisingly easy face to read. It has a pink pelt with a blue mane and tail, and a bow tied around its tail. It called out to him, “Who are you?”

He read that they spoke his language, but no-one could figure out how. The underground theory was telepathy, not that there was any prove. “My name is Scorpan. I am a human. What is your name?”

The pegasis landed on her hooves in front of him and slowly paced forward. “I’m Firefly. I’m from Dream Castle. Where do you come from?” She seemed to warm up to him quickly.

“I’m from-we, all of the other humans here are from a place called Ur. We found this place and I have…a great interest in it. We’re here to learn about it.”

“I can tell you all about Ponyland! I meet a bunch of humans who came before. They were very strange.”

“When did this happen?” This was another important research subject to him.

Watches explorers brought with them never matched current time when they came back and it was theorized that time moves faster in this world. The differences were never more than five minutes but they were clear. On top of this, longer trips made for greater differences. Scorpan thought maybe the relative speed of time “grew” the longer they were here. This was to be the longest expedition to this land yet and he planned on leaving another watch somewhere safe to retrieve the next time a team came.

“Almost a year ago.” Hmm, I’m going to need some work to study that.

“Were you the only one to talk to them? Did you tell anyone else about them?”

“Yeah, and no. I was afraid at first, but they seemed busy. So I went up and talked to them. They nearly jumped out of their skin. Ha ha.”

Scorpan had read their notes, they had mentioned speaking to only one pony. A pegasus named Firefly. She was bold and reckless, but she kept their existence a secret from her pony friends. She spoke of them a lot…

Scorpan inquired, “Can you tell me about the other ponies that live here? I heard there are unicorns, pegasi, earth ponies. Can they have children with each other? Are there wars? What technologies do you have?” He took out his notepad and pencil.

“Unicorns and pegasi can have children with each other. My friend Gusty, her dad’s a unicorn but her mom and dad are like that. She’s a unicorn but can control the wind. My grandpa’s an earth pony, and so is my brother.” Firefly had no issue divulging her family tree to a stranger, so ponies, or at least she was very trusting.

“It sounds like genetics work the same here…” he muttered to himself.

“What’s ‘genetics’?” she asked.

“DNA.” She looked at him blankly. “It’s what determines characteristics about your body.” She continued to stare at him. 

“Like, ‘It’s in your blood.’ None of this makes sense?”

“Um…”

“Moving on. What’s the difference between each kind of pony?”

“Pegasi can fly, unicorns can do different kinds of magic, but most of them can levitate. And earth ponies are strong. Like really strong. And they are solid. Posey fell down a flight of stairs and laughed it off. Then Fizzy fell down the stairs too and she broke her leg and a rib.”

Still scribbling away Scorpan asked, “What about alicorns? What are they? What makes them special?”

“Oh, alicorns are huge ponies that live out in Equestria.” She pointed her hoof east. “There are two of them living in Everfree Castle. They raise the sun and the moon.”

He looked up from his notes. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

“Princess Celestia raises the sun and Nightmare Moon raises the moon. I like the sun much better.”

Trying to wrap his head around what could only be a pun, Scorpan clarified what he heard. “So a pony princess named CELESTIA raises the sun. And a pony named NIGHTMARE raises the moon? Oh boy. Pfft…I’m talking to a horse, what do I expect?” He started talking to himself before he realized he still had work to do. “So I’m guessing Nightmare is a female too. Why does a princess raise the sun?”

Firefly didn't notice or care about his eccentrics and continued talking with him. “Nightmare Moon is a princess too. She used to call herself Luna but she changed. They are sisters and rule Equestria.”

“Uh yeaahh. Thank you. What about other alicorns?”

“I don’t know of any. They have been around for hundreds of years but I’ve never heard of any sisters or brothers or cousins. I know they have a mother but I don’t know much about her. All I know is she’s pretty.”

“So what separates alicorns from others? Is it just their size and…immortality?”

“No. They have horns and wings. And their magic is much stronger than any unicorn's.”

“Is there anything else you can tell me about them? Are there other kinds of ponies?”

“There are sea ponies that live in the oceans, lakes and rivers. And Flutterponies know a lot about magic, but I have never met them.”

“Do you often meet beings and keep them secret from others?”

“I meet a lot of creatures. There are griffins, troglodytes, the Crab Monks. I’m trust worthy. And you’re not going to hurt any-one.”

Scorpan noticed a fire in the direction of camp. Looking at his pocket watch, he realized he had been gone almost an hour! “Firefly, I need to get back to camp. Do you want to meet the others? They’re scientists too.”

“No. I have to go too. Maybe we’ll see each other someday.”

She took to the skies while he packed up and headed for the fire to discuss, or keep hold of his secrets.
> Present 2-A Path to Follow
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Twilight awoke slowly and lifted the flap on her tent. Orange light spilled onto her sleeping bag and, from the angle, it looked like it was nearly sunset. It was the “morning” of their fourth day walking through this forsaken dust bowl. She and Lyra had packed fourteen days of food each, and Lyra bought enough fruit and rice for another two in Appleoosa. She figured it would come in handy. Actually, all it did was give her an excuse to stay an extra day out here, and Twilight was too exhausted from their first day of walking to argue when she found out.

Yawning and rising to her hooves, she thought again how it could get so cold and quiet in this desert. She brought along a windbreaker for this trip, while Lyra had her jet-black hoodie. But the silence really bothered her. Wheather the night life of Canterlot or insect life of Ponyville, Twilight was used to hearing something after the sun went down. No water out here meant no vegetation, which meant no herbivores, meaning no carnivores. That made for safer travel at night, but there was absolutely nothing alive except for them out here. It chilled her more than the cold.

Twilight poked her head out in the desert winds. Fortunately they were blowing away from her today. Looking around, she saw Lyra on her haunches far away, looking at something in her hoof.

“Lyra!” she called. “Lyra!” She was enthralled with whatever it was and ignoring her. Growling at her crap this early in their day, Twilight ducked into her tent again and grabbed her canteen before trotting out to see what was so important.

She did look up as Twilight spread her wings. “Twilight! I found something! You’re not going to believe it!”

“Probably not,” Twilight to herself closing the distance between them and drinking half her water on the way.

“So, what do you got, Lyra? What are you holding?”

She pulled her laden hoof behind her back and remained on her haunches. “Ahh, but first: what are we standing on?”

Looking down, Twilight answered, “Sand, Lyra. There is nothing out here but sand and rocks.”

“You think you are so smart, you think you are a sleuth? Dig deeper, my little pony, and learn the truth!” Lyra said in a passable impression of Zecora, clearly enjoying herself.

“Did you spend all day coming up with that one?” Twilight mocked her as she dug her hooves in, moving sand around.

“No, I got enough sleep. Besides, I earned some fun. See it yet?”

“No Lyra, I do not. I see rocks. Just like what we’ve seen so far.”

“Not just any rocks. Specifically gravel. Doesn’t it seem odd to find gravel in the desert?” Twilight glared at her. “Okay, a little back from where you’re standing, the gravel ends and becomes just sand. The same thing happens three meters this way. I followed this gravel bed a hundred meters that way” she pointed vaguely west, “and two hundred meters the other way. Both times, the gravel is three meters wide. That does not happen on its own. I think it was put here, measured carefully, for a rail line.”

Twilight stared at her in disbelief. “A rail line? That’s a lot to guess from a pile of gravel.”

“I also have this. Catch.” Lyra tossed what she held in her hooves in Twilight’s direction who caught it easily. It was a thirty centimeter rusted piece of metal.

“I’m still not getting it.”

“That is a railroad spike, Twilight Sparkle. To build a line, you lay the ties, then the gravel, use these to nail plates to the ties, and those plates keep the rails straight so the train doesn’t go off the rails. I haven’t found anything else, but I think someone pulled up the tracks and left this behind. Does that make sense?”

Twilight learned about rail lines when the station was put into Ponyville proper, but this was a stretch even for Pinkie Pie to believe. “Lyra, why would someone put a railroad out here in this desert? Why would they tear it up?”

“Twilight, who says it always was a desert? There could have been something out here before. I say there was; building a railroad takes a lot of work. And I have proof it was here. But do you want to know the best part?”

Twilight sighed. “What’s the best part, Lyra?”

“This bed of gravel runs east, right in the direction of where we’re going. Isn’t that exciting? We’ve been walking parallel to a path all along going the same place we are. It’s great.” She squeed.

Turning it over in her mind, Twilight figured she did have a point. “So we just walk here, and at the very least, we will have a clear way to get back home, right?”

“You could say that. But this is proof, Twilight, that there IS something here, or there. Now, we need to find exactly what it is. C’mon. Let’s get breakfast, pack up, and be on our way. We’ve still got a lot of ground to cover!” Lyra trotted off, leaving Twilight to speculate.

If this is the remains of a train track, what is it doing here? Celestia never mentioned anything being out here, ever. I missing a piece of this puzzle. I will have time to find it later.
> Past 3-A Good Wife
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“Midas’s Midnight Decree is intolerable,” Scorpan shouted at the man across the oak desk from him. Scorpan only needed his own two hands to count the “men” in the Senate as oppose to the “fools, boys, weasels,” or, worst of all, “self-proclaimed moral saviors.” This man was named Vespucci.

“Scorpan, you have made your point, but you are simply--"

“I am not wrong. Man cannot live like this. This is stagnation; you yourself spoke of ‘wisdom from growing pains’. What happened to that man? What pain will you allow so that we might grow?”

“I have spoken at length with Seimens. He and I agree with you on several factors, but this Decree can work.” Vespucci tried to explain to Scorpan again.

Scorpan took a deep breath before continuing, “This is a Utopia you wish to create, ‘but man has no such place to lay his head. For if Utopia is not a place, but a people, and being such we must choose carefully.’ Sofia Lamb has guided the rest of the Senate long enough. They have forgotten her daughter. Eleanor saved Sofia when she had nothing to gain, just because it was the right thing to do. We have to listen to her words again.”

Vespucci sat down into his seat and spoke firmly, “Scorpan, my word is final. I will not vote against the Midnight Decree. I hope I at least have your respect for why I am doing this, right?”

Sighing heavily, he replied “Yes, you do. Vote as you will, I’m quitting after the vote. And stick with Seimens, he can be trusted to lead you when things turn ugly. Goodbye Vespucci.”

Defeated, Scorpan turned around and walked from the Senators' office. After meeting with five men, he had not changed any of their minds. He had failed his whole nation today.


** ** **


His head hung low as he stepped out into the stormy weather. Ignoring the rain pattering off his head, he didn’t even hear his name being called until he was wrapped by a slender set of arms. Baugh’s words soothed him and he returned he embrace, smelling her greying auburn hair as he took a calming breath.

She could see from his gait how defeated was feeling. From his slumped shoulders and bowed, tilted head, to his eyes tearing up, he was a broken man. His hold on her wasn’t out of passion, but a grip to stop him from metaphoric collapse. She needed to be here for him as she had always been since that night three years before their wedding. She swore to be his rock, and this was one of their many "through thick and thin” times.

“Baugh, it’s over. It didn’t work. Tomorrow evening when they vote on it, we will lose.” She took his arm and guided him toward the bordering house he always rented when Legislature Season came around and he had to leave his home office.

“Aww, that’s alright, Scorpan. You did your best. You’ll do it next time!” Spike said enthusiastically from Baughs’ shoulder where he held her umbrella.

“There won’t be a next time, Spike. My dearest,” he said, turning to his wife. “I’m quitting tomorrow night. I told Vespucci himself.”

She could have been a political animal, but Baugh knew where Scorpan’s heart lay. “Are we really going through with this? Ponyland?”

“We have no choice if we want to live. This Utopia…it’s not living. We are moving first thing next week and not looking back,” he told her with a heavy heart.

“What about inviting your supporters to join us? The other Senators and your constituents? Will they be welcome to join us?”

“Uggh, I guess, I’m not stopping them. There’s plenty of room. But who would want to?” He sighed. “This is the only world they’ve known. No matter how bad it will become, it's home to everyone. We can pick up and leave, but we are weird like that. There are too many unknowns, and no one wants to go and decide to return a few months or years later.”

“But Scorpan, we can have neighbors. And friends. And, and, lots of them!” Spike was clumsily adjusting the umbrella, trying to cheer his master up, but all Scorpan could do was wallow in his despair. Baugh gave him hope as always.

“Maybe Kevin could use a few friends his own age there. Maybe meet a nice girl. It would be good for us all.”

Thinking about his son always filled his mind with “what-ifs”, but she was right. “I’ll invite every one who wants to come after the vote tomorrow night, and again when we get back to Leptis Magna. It’s unclaimed land. Whoever wants it can take it. I want to leave and be done with this place and the people who do want to live here.” Passing strangers could tell by his tone he really did not care about what he spoke of and did not give him a second look.

Silently, they climbed the steps to their boarding room, where he fumbled with the door for her. As much as she wanted him, he needed her more tonight.


** ** **


“So, what happened when you got home, Scorpan?” Firefly bit another mouthful of grass and listened to his story of the past week.

His life had taken the most unexpected upturn since that rainy night a week ago. Scorpan excitedly continued, “My speech was sent home through the telegraph before we boarded the train. There must have been a thousand people waving flags, banners, and what not cheering me on when we arrived in Leptis Magna. I shook hands with dozens and they all said they wanted to join me here. ‘If you’re leaving,’ they said, ‘so am I!’ And that was at the train station. I had hundreds of people wanting to talk to me when we got home; Spike even got them to carry our luggage for him.

“A bunch of the scientists I hired earlier said they would come and continue their work for free if I let them join me. So I threw together another mission and here we are. Only now, we’re looking for a place to actually set a city. We will need a river, a number of wells, easy-to-irrigate farmland OR pegasi willing to create regular rainstorms. Then we’ll need solid bedrock, access to wood…”

“You put a lot of thought into this in a few days!”

“Yes I have. But this is all stuff I planned out earlier. Now I’m thinking over how we will handle foreign relations and finding a common currency with the locals.”

“How many of you will there be living here?”

“From crowds I’ve seen in the past, and how many people said they were there for someone else, too, I would guess ten thousand.”

“Ten THOUSAND humans! Wh- how many of you are there in your home?”

“Ur has a population of fifty-six million, one hundred thirty-four thousand and thirteen. And there are other states with larger populations, more land, better technology. We’re all different. We all know how to handle large populations and, to be honest, ten thousand people is actually a respectably-sized city. Large enough to have a train station and support a complex economy, but it still retains that Anysmalltown atmosphere.”

Firefly laid on her belly and gawked at how he could discuss so many people so casually. She herself grew up in Dream Castle and rarely dealt with numbers beyond hundreds. She knew the sun was millions of miles away, but that didn’t mean much to a pony with her head in the clouds.

“I think you’ve impressed her, Scorpan. She’s staring at you.” A woman’s voice called out from beside him. Firefly and him turned to see a tan, plump woman walking their way. She laid her ruck sack on the ground and leaned against the same tree as he did and asked, “So, are you the pony who always welcomes us humans?”

She stood up and stretched out her wings. “You bet. I’m Firefly!”

“Name’s Mary. Nice to meet you.” She held out her hand to shake, but all Firefly did was tap it and look at Scorpan again.

“Is she your mate?” Firefly asked Scorpan.

Both of them developed an odd look and he uncomfortably answered, “Noo, she is not. My wife is a redhead named Baugh. She plans on making one trip here, and it will be to stay. You might see her in a few months. Mary is one of the scientists I hired to make this city a reality. Ph.D of Mineralogy.”

“What’s that?” She turned her head towards Mary.

“I search for minerals, fossils fuels, bedrock, metals, resources in the ground we can dig out and use. I have been here twice, and I’m staying next time I come. Scorpan, I figured it out. I’m opening a butcher shop when I settle down. Mary’s Little Lamb.”

“Have you worked in a butcher shop before?” he asked with all seriousness.

“My uncle’s for two summers. And I got six months to learn,” She said casually.

“I would say that qualifies you to open one in Sumaria. Good luck.”

“What’s a butcher shop?” Firefly inquired, genuinely confused.

"Um--oh! Well...you see.." He struggled for the right words.

“You’ll have to wait and see, Firefly.” Mary told her. “Or not.”

“Okay then. So, how do you like Scorpan? Would he make a good mate?” Firefly asked, changing the subject and unintentionally putting Mary on the spot.

She struggled momentarily and Scorpan felt his cheeks flush. “I…I think he would make a good mate, for the moment and for life. He is intelligent, loyal, brave and strong. And he knows how to value something.” His blush deepened.

“He does sound like a good choice. How do humans choose their mates?” Firefly continued, unaware of Scorpan’s embarrassment at being the center of such a vulnerable subject.

“Men and women live together, so it’s different from ponies,” He interrupted them.

“Is it? She just said everything I want in a stallion and said you’d be a good choice.” Firefly was worried to have missed something in the complicated human mating rituals.

“Men and women live together after they mate, and that raises different social issues. I also should say I trust Scorpan, and that is something every woman want and ponies don’t look for,” Mary clarified for them.

“We don’t look for trust in stallions. I don’t think I get it.”

A silence passed between all three of them as they pondered the implications of their conversation.

“Well, I gotta get going. Good bye, Scorpan. Good bye, Mary!” She took off into the sky.

He turned to his scientist friend. “You really think I would make a good mate?”

It was her turn to fluster, but she spoke without hesitation. “I think you would make a good husband. I do mean it. Your turn: would I make a good wife?”

“I can’t say I know you that well. But you are beautiful enough and have spunk. And smart. Not ambitious, but you know what you want and do what it takes to get it. You seem content in the world.” He tried not to open up about what he thought of others, but he knew she was trustworthy of his secrets. "I suppose you would make a good wife."

“I am content. I was afraid the Senate would drive us back to the Stone Age. But you said 'No'. I see you, Scorpan, bringing us into a new Silver Age.” Speaking heroically, she moved to sit right in front of him. “A time for wise industry leaders. Men willing to get their hands dirty protecting what’s theirs. People who do the right thing for others and never let their secrets be shared.” 

“That is what I envision. A society built on responsibility and strong morals.” He put a hand on her shoulder, which she did not shrug away.

“I can see it now. A land where we know of Utopia and try to reach it, but also know it will always be beyond our grasp.” She leaned her face closer towards his and grasped his hands.

He leaned into her face and planted his lips on her own. They shared their first kiss as he wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her on top of him as he fell flat on his back.

No other member of the expedition mission saw them until noon of the next day.
> Present 3-Judgment
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight needed a rest. The two of them had walked all night and heard nothing but the gravel beneath their hooves stumble around with every step she and Lyra took. Since she found their new path two days ago she could not stop smiling. It bugged Twilight to no end. Not that she bragged about it; neither exchanged a word beyond "I need a break."

“So why, have you been so skeptical, Twilight?” Lyra asked, breaking their uncomfortable silence. She fumbled with her saddlebag putting her bronze timepiece away.

“Skeptical about what?”

“This whole trip. YOU said there was nothing out here and left it at that. But we found an old railroad line. If a rail line is out here, why not a castle? Why not a whole mountain range?”

“I told you about the surveyors. And they obviously missed this by mistake.” Twilight pointed down at the defunct line. “The same way you found it by mistake. And besides, Appleoosa is not the first settlement they’ve had out here, it’s only the most modern one. When Princess Celestia and Luna ruled together, it was a very different world. If there was anything out here back then, it would still be here. Villages are abandoned, but civilizations are not. And if there was a civilization out here, its extinction would be a huge event I would have read about. Or Princess Celestia would have at least mentioned. But she didn’t. I won’t believe there is anything out here until I can prove it.”

“So could there be a mountain range out here? What time is it, by the way?” Lyra guided her along.

“I don’t know, Lyra. We've gone further than the surveyor team did. And no, I don’t know what time it is. You’re carrying the watch.”

“I am carrying the watch. It is 5:54 in the morning and it looks rather dark for this hour. The sun should have risen by now, but it has not. Why do you think that is?” she asked smugly.

“I don’t know, Lyra. Maybe Celestia’s late,” Twilight whined.

“Her stallion should have worn protection then.” Twilight slapped her with her wing. “No, she’s not late, she’s actually a minute earlier today than she was yesterday according to her almanac. We can’t see the sun because something’s blocking it. Something big. Twilight, look out to the horizon. See that jagged golden band?”

Squinting, Twilight did see the sky go from dark blue to gold to black. And it was just over where the sun should be rising right now. Damn it…

“It looks like a mountain range is blocking the sunrise, Lyra,” Twilight said, her head and wings drooping in shame.

“Meaning…C’mon Twilight, you can say it. I won’t gloat too much.”

“Meaning you were right and I was wrong.”

“No, Twilight. Meaning there was more to my dream than my subconscious. Something, or somepony, someONE was feeding this to me. I am certain we have a way through the mountain, too.”

“How are we going through the mountain, Lyra?”

“We’re on a railroad, right? There’s going to be a box tunnel upahead. We can just prance right through it. One way in, one way out.”

“But, what if there’s a cave-in? OR the tunnel's blocked? Or gas? Mountain climbing is still much safer than mining!”

“Twilight Sparkle, you know little about the magic of events. If we have been lead down this path, we will be allowed to finish it. If there is another way around the mountain, we will see it, and if it’s not safe, we will know that too. There are many what-if’s in life, but if you put your faith in the right places you can relax, because your Guardian has already taken care of those.”

“And where do you put your faith, Lyra?”

“I am putting my faith in Nightmare Moon. I know where she stands. Where do you put yours?”

Neither spoke until they set up their tent an hour later and fell asleep for the day. Lyra was thinking of what discoveries awaited them, and Twilight’s mind wandered to a talk she had with Celestia shortly after Discord had been turned to stone again.


** ** **


“Princess Celestia, I don’t understand this. Why are you putting him down in the storage caves? If he gets loose again, he could do anything before we notice his escape!” Twilight exclaimed while levitating Discord's newest statue.

Celestia levitated another box away as Luna magically pulled bricks out from the wall and stacked them aside. Then, she started carving a hollow space in the cave wall five meters tall. “Twilight, I have no idea how he escaped this time, and I didn’t ask him. So we’re putting him where no one comes, and no one would think to look for him. It's not foolproof, but it will keep him in place for a while. That’s still a little shallow, Luna.”

She tried fitting the newly-petrified Discord into the niche, but he would not fit. Luna kept telekinetically pulling stone from the hole she made.

“Who would WANT to release Discord, again Princess? I mean, it’s not like he has friends or anypony can control him,” Twilight persisted.

“Somepony might think that they can, Twilight. Or someone might try to extort the Kingdom and threaten us with releasing him. Well, they can do it they can’t find him. That’s good Luna.”

Moving Discord back into the niche again, she found he did indeed fit with room to spare. Celestia and Luna moved to replace the brickwork, reseal it with new mortar, and place the piles of boxes where they stood. Luna compacted the displaced stone back into a rock, waved her horn, and transplaced it elsewhere. Twilight looked around and would not have suspected anything out of the ordinary in this particular storage cave full of decaying paper deep under the castle.

Luna spoke up, “I see you still know how to hide a body, sister. Haha.” She took her leave and walked in the hallway, leaving Celestia and Twilight alone.

Celestia called out, “Very amusing, Luna. Twilight, you and we are the only ones who know where Discord’s statue is now. I hope you can handle this: treat it like a matter of national security.”

“I will, Princess.” She bowed low.

“Stand, my little pony. The celebration will start soon, and we must be there on time. I have a speech planned about how your friendship and courage saved us from Discord.” Together, they followed Luna into the hall and walked towards the stairs.

“Princess, there’s something I’ve wondered for a long time: IF somepony else had found the Elements of Harmony, another six ponies, or even another six friends, could they have wielded them?”

“Hmm." Celestia pondered for a minute. "Twilight, have you ever doubted your ability to wield the Elements?”

“Not at all, Princess!”

“Why not? It's such a powerful magic, surely it must bring up some doubts?”

“No, Princess. You sent me to Ponyville, where I meet the five friends whom I could not have done it without. You put your faith in me, and I trust your judgment!”

Celestia looked away. “That’s just it. I knew if it could be done, you would do it, but I didn't know what WOULD happen. You were my best chance, and I might have just as easily sent you to your death. I risked your life and manipulated you.  Back then and even yesterday. For that, Twilight Sparkle, I am sorry. I hope you can forgive me.” Celestia stopped and kneeled low, taking Twilight by surprise.

“Princess,” Twilight said in shock.

Celestia kept her chin on the ground. “Twilight, this has been very difficult for me to do. I need you to forgive me, even if you say ‘not today’ that—“

“I forgive you, Princess Celestia,” Twilight said softly.

Rising to full height again with her head bowed low, Twilight saw Celestia's eyes brimming with tears seconds before her mentor's hooves were crushing her.

“I needed that Twilight Sparkle,” she whispered between sniffs. “I-I’m so sorry. When the hedge maze disappeared, I knew something went terribly wrong, and I could only hope you and your friends were alive. I realized I might have overestimated you-“

“But you didn’t.”

She sighed, released Twilight and looked away. Slowly walking down the corridor they just came from she continued, “I’ve misjudged ponies and others in the past, and it has cost me dearly far too often. When I took you under my wing, you reminded me of somepony I knew when I was truly innocent, before knowing all the horrible things a ruler has to do. Before I saw all the blood on my hooves.”

“Princess, don’t talk like that.” Twilight leaped in front of Celestia trying to get her attention again.

“Please don’t interrupt me, Twilight. You need to hear this. I swore I would do the right, moral things concerning you as my student. And that’s twice that I’ve betrayed that oath. Please forgive a foolish mare for her mistakes and vices. You are stronger because of what I did, but that doesn’t make it right, nor does that mean it didn’t hurt you. I am so sorry, Twilight Sparkle.” She shook her head and bowed low enough her crown slipped off her head.

Twilight embraced her teacher and spoke softly again. “Whatever you did, it’s okay. I’m still here. And I'm sure whatever you did was done for the right reasons. Don’t be too hard on yourself.” She levitated the crown back onto her mentors head.

“Thank you for your forgiveness, but don’t trust my judgment, Twilight, simply because I said it. Discord’s tricks fooled all of you, and let this be another manifestation of it: form your own judgment. If it conflicts with others' that’s okay. But don’t blindly take what another says. Promise me that, Twilight.”

“I promise Celestia. I will form my own judgments.”
> Past 4-Royal Introductions
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Charles fitted his sandal back onto his foot and climbed back onto Philip. Since his family had moved to Ponyland four months ago he had never felt so at ease. His cows were growing healthier, he had more land than he ever owned or rented in his life, and he could run his business without worrying about world events. From what his wife heard being said in the market, their neighbors were stupid and carefree.

Even the birds here were more beautiful, there were two of them flying in his direction right now. One was white with a pink tail, and the other seemed black as night. Actually. they are coming in pretty fast, and clearly bigger than I thought. The white one flew around to his back and fluttered to a stop. That’s when Charles saw they were not birds, but pegasi he had heard were rumored to live nearby. He never realized they were as big as the horse under him right now. His hand wandered to his musket ball pistol on his waist as they landed. He never intended to kill anything, just shoot it in the air and scare predators or thieves away.

Both pegasi stalked around him in a circle, and he saw they had horns, too. They looked between him and Philip menacingly. The white one spoke, “How can you degrade yourself to this? Let him walk on his own!”

Charles was confused at first, she had not looked to him but his horse. Her voice sounded like a she at least, and she asked again, “Are you not allowed to speak in his presence?”

“Are you talking to the horse or me?” Charles demanded.

“Still your tongue in royal matters,” her horn lit in a yellow aurora and he felt himself being tossed to the ground. Stumbling to his feet he pulled his gun out, and fired it above their heads with a resounding bang.

“What’s the meaning of this!? What are you doing on my land? Assaulting me? Should I get the guard?” He lowered his gun to clear the barrel and prepare another shot. It had been a long time since he had to do this under pressure, and he was more than nervous.

The black one lit her horn and stepped between him and the white one. She asked, “Who are the guard? Are you the ruler?”

He thought how silly he must look pouring powder down the barrel and spilling half of it over himself. “I own this land. Here, I am king. I answer to no one,  no one harass me, my family or my herd. What do you want?” He pushed the round down the barrel and pulled the lock back, pointing the gun to the sky again.

White one spoke again. “What manner of beast are you to ride a horse like a ship? Why does he not speak in your presence? What is this contraption on his back?”

“I am a man and I own that horse, like my cows. And you two are the first horses I've meet who can talk. Are you from Dream Castle?” Charles kept his voice firm and his gun hand steady.

White one continued, “Where is your city? We know a city that appeared overnight and you say you are king. We must speak business.”

“Wait, I own this land but, Scorpan’s governor. You wanna talk business, talk to him, unless you wanna buy my herd!” Charles exclaimed.

“Then tell me where this Scorpan is,” the white one demanded.

“He’s in the city, three kilometers north of here. Midni-“

He was interrupted by both Black and White flapping their wings and flying north without so much as a goodbye.


** ** **


Scorpan winced as he and Baugh passed Mary’s Little Lamb and she said she wanted to grab both of them a kebab. Standing with his hands in his pockets, his mind went back to the afternoon ten months ago when he let go of Mary’s hand and their Circle was broken. The whole science team had returned to the land of Ur. Turning around, he saw his wife waiting for him, holding a watch and grinning in his direction. Picking up his personal rucksack, he hung his hand and stepped toward her warm embrace.

I don’t deserve her love. “We need to talk, Baugh. I’ve done something terrible. Go home, I will be there in about an hour.”

After telling their son Kevin to leave the house until dinner time, he poured out what happened between himself and Mary. It was easy once he started. He had no explanation, he just told her what happened. His last stop before going home was to their lawyer’s office where he filed for divorce papers He handed to her when he was finished.

For her part, she stayed quiet until he finished, and, better yet, she kept her voice calm and composed when she did speak. 

“Spike, come in here.”

“Yes Baugh?” he eagerly asked.

She pointed to the papers on her lap. “Throw them in the fire, Spike.”

“Okay!” Waddling over to the fire place he tossed them in and turned around for another command.

“You’re not done, Spike. Don’t leave until they are completely burned.”

Spike turned around and picked up the already-burning papers and twisted them into a pipe before setting them in the center of the embers, watching carefully that they were sufficiently charred. Good thing he's got scales. Turning around again when his task was complete, Baugh said to him, “Thank you, Spike. Please start dinner if you have not.”

“I’ve already got the potatoes peeled, Baugh. I’ll get back to it!” He eagerly ran back into the kitchen as Baugh turned to her husband again.

“That is the end of that. I have moved on, and I expect you to do so as well. If Mary is the scientist you need, I expect to see her on your next expedition. And know that if this happens again, Scorpan, I may have to kill you.”

Scorpan knew his wife was an amazing woman, but this was a new dimension he had never seen. He could hardly process what this meant to him and spent many days trying to convince himself that it was real. That he was not divorced and involved in a bitter custody battle over their son, who he did not love as much as he knew he should, astounded him.

All this passed through his mind until his beautiful middle-aged redhead strolled out of the butchery holding two delicious kebabs. As far as he knew, neither Mary nor Baugh confronted each other about the incident, and he did not speak to Mary about it again.

I don’t deserve her love. It became his mantra whenever she wowed him. He was focused on the warmth of her hand and her love that he did not notice when people started parting in the street and a sight unique to this mysterious, magical land came into view.

The white and black alicorns that harassed Charles the cowherd had been walking through the city together and the white one called out to the passerby. “Do you not know royalty when you see it?! Why do you stand tall? Tell me where your king, Scorpan, is so that he might show you the respect the Princess Sisters are due!”

That got his attention. Scorpan held Baugh’s hand tighter and stepped forward. “I am Scorpan, Governor of this city. Are you the Princess Sisters?”

The crowd parted even more as they continued to exchange words. “I am Princess Celestia. My sister is Nightmare Moon. We are the Princesses of Equestria, a land many leagues west of you, past the mountains of Foster. We raise the sun and moon, respectively, bringing light, warm, and beauty to your lands. For this, we will accept an annual tribute from you, totaling one tenth of all your trade. We have not meet before, so we await your gifts one solar year from today.”

“And why would we give you a tribute? We are a sovereign state. We only wish to live in peace.”

Scorpan’s only experience with reading a pony's face was Firefly’s, but Celestia’s was easy to read as well. She was experienced at orating and debate and was not easily unsettled. He could see she was bothered by speaking to an individual who burdened his hands with his mate’s and his lunch.

“Would you rather us not raise the sun and moon? Where will you get light? How will your plants grow?”

“Would you not raise the sun on everyone because we choose not to give into your uncensored extortion? Would you kill off everyone's plants when we can eat our cattle? Would you throw everyone into darkness as we light lamps and torches to see by? Would you let everyone suffer for our desire to remain independent?” Scorpan kept his voice calm and reasonable while holding Celestia’s eye contact.

He counted off the seconds until she answered him and continued to read her minute facial expressions. She swallowed and took a deep breath, telling him she was keeping calm as well despite being infuriated. No doubt no one had showed her any backbone in a very long time--in public no less.

Celestia finally spoke. “If you do not wish to pay our tribute, we can do nothing to force it from a sovereign state. Very well. We will be on our way again.”

Trying to build relations, Scorpan blurted, “Why don’t you stay? We may take time to get to know each other’s cultures and customs. We are having a celebration tonight, and you are welcome to attend.”

The black alicorn, who remained silent during the entire exchange, finally spoke up in curiosity. “What is the occasion?”

“We finished installing the public irrigation system. Now all the fountains have running water, and if there is a storm, the drains will drain the water safely,” Scorpan explained.

“But you intend to celebrate at night?” asked Celestia.

“What better time to play and forget your problems?” Baugh reasoned, also speaking for the first time.

“I believe I shall stay,” Nightmare Moon said to her sister. “This could prove interesting.”

“I will leave. Goodbye Scorpan,” With a single flap of her wings, Celestia took to the sky and immediately headed west.

After a short silence, the crowd that watched the royals exchange words dispersed and went about their business again. Nightmare Moon walked toward Scorpan and Baugh, curiously eyeing their hands.

“You do not have hooves like ponies. Can you hold hooves and walk at the same time?”

“Yes we can. My name is Baugh.” She placed her kebab in Scorpan’s hand and held out her own to shake.

After a few attempts, they settled for Baugh gripping Nightmare’s hoof and shaking it. “You may call me Nightmare Moon. And what is that in your other hoof, King Scorpan?”

“Please, call me Scorpan.” He held it out for her. “It’s a kebab. Would you care for a…” His face fell when he realized she was still a pony. “I have heard of you and your sister before. You are immortal, but are you an herbivore like other ponies?”

“Yes. Is that some sort of stone? Does your kind eat stones?” Nightmare Moon asked in confusion.


** ** **


The celebration Scorpan mentioned started promptly at sunset and involved the whole city. All fourteen thousand, three hundred eighteen human souls and one alicorn turned out to party. And Nightmare Moon did not leave Scorpans side the entire celebration. Her insistence to “see this marvelous city explained to her” meant she was always in arm's reach of him. When Baugh said she was tired and would head home for the night, she and Scorpan kissed goodnight and Nightmare had his sole attention.

“So, what sort of spirits do you humans brew?”

“Nightmare Moon, you can turn anything into booze. Anything! My poison of preference is fortified blueberry wine. You give it a shot.” He patted her on the back, nudging her toward a stand manned by a teenage boy in an apron collecting a tip.

“Son, two glasses of your finest blueberry spirit.”

Nightmare gasped. “Scorpan, is he your child!?”

“No, no. It’s an expression you say to a man younger than yourself. My son is running around this city somewhere. And he’s slightly older than him. Do you have children?” he asked, sliding a few silver coins to the boy.

“No. I have no paramour and I cast contraception spells when I visit the harem.”

It was Scorpan’s turn to sputter in shock. “I-uh-that makes sense…I guess.”

“Tell me, do humans lay eggs? Or give live birth like ponies?”

“We are mammals and give live birth.”

“Do your females keep their mammaries on their chest?” She was looking at a woman across from the bar in a halter top. “I thought many of them were expecting, but maybe not.”

He sighed as their drinks slid in front of them. “Yes, Nightmare Moon. Women have their breasts high up on their chests. Do you mind if I call you 'Nightmare' by the way?”

“By all means.” She continued to stare at the woman’s chest. The woman was oblivious to it. “I feel I must ask--why do you celebrate at night? You said it was the best to forget your problems--what do you mean?”

“We Sumarians work and toil during the day. We use the sun to grow our crops, prepare our food, light our way, but when the sun sets it’s time to place aside our work and play. In the day, we eat to strengthen ourselves and drink to quench our thirst. At night, we eat and drink to feel good. We press our grapes during the day to tip back our glasses at night.” Scorpan let his volume raise during his speech, sure of his every word.

“Do you humans love the night?” Nightmare asked in anticipation.

“We love the day, but we love the night more. And why not? We shield our eyes from the sun, but stare lovingly at the moon all night. And the stars fill us with wonder and hope. The clouds hide us from the oppressive sun, but block the beautiful night sky. I ask you Nightmare, how can anyone not love the night?”

“And do all humans feel the same way?” she asked, sweat forming on her forehead.

“I cannot speak for every man, woman and child, but I certainly do. And I am know many here share my beliefs in this.”

Downing her wine in seconds, she said, “Very well. Let us continue to explore your city. I wish to see this love of the night you have described.”

“Then we’ll be off.” He tipped his glass back and led her away. “Let’s go to one of the fountains. There’s sure to be a band playing music at one of them.”

“What sort of music do humans play?” Nightmare inquired.

“Many varieties on many instruments: violins, guitars, flutes, pianos, trombones. Oh, wait till you see them!”


** ** **


Approaching one of the public fountains they did hear [url=(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B4sqishGuYw)]music and saw people dancing, swinging, and surrendering their bodies to the rhythm. Nightmare had never heard stringed instruments played with such speed and precision and nearly dropped to her haunches in delight. A young girl shyly asked Scorpan if he would dance with her, and he obliged, telling Nightmare to simply dance however she felt.

After numerous tracts and hearty laughs at Scorpan’s horrific dancing, the band started with a slower [url=(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qJgF3ZALt-g)]piece. He tried leading her away, but Nightmare sat again and wept as the music continued to its last note. Tugging on her breastplate, he guided her to a small fountain nearby and splashed her face.

“You really like that one, huh?” He joked.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just never heard…Is all your music like that?”

“That’s a good piece, but, more or less, our music is like that. Yes.”

“Wow. Please, show me more!”


** ** **


Scorpan and his alicorn companion turned down a street leading to the city’s more quiet neighborhoods. He looked upwards and let out a whistle.

“You do enjoy the night I created.” Nightmare sounded pleased with herself.

“I always wondered if I would ever look up to the sky and not recognize the stars. And what do you know? I can’t name a single one and I am happy. Do you name the stars?”

“Yes I do. Each one of them has a name, and please don’t ask me to tell you. Every name is deeply personal and I won’t tell a soul.”

“That sounds reasonable. So, what do you think of Sumaria so far?”

Before she could answer, they passed an alley they turned to see a young couple--perhaps both still in secondary school--wrapped in each other’s arms and kissing like the world was ending. Scorpan tried to drag her along, but her eyes stayed focused on the two lovers out of curiosity.

“What was that? Were they kissing?”

“Yes, yes they were. And they were in a dark place, so they didn’t want to be bothered or stared at.”

“I have not seen many couples acting that way tonight. What time of year do women go into heat?” Nightmare continued her barrage of questions.

“Okay, that’s an all--year thing,” he awkwardly explained.

“So humans have sex all year? Do women tire of it?”

“Not if you’re good!” He laughed.

“What do you mean, good? Is it not just sex? Is it not just a means to curb instinctual desires for repopulation?”

“Nightmare, we’re gonna have to have a seat for this one…”

Later, they took a seat and, after ordering a pair of vegetable quiches, he explained a few intricate details of human romance, courting, and sex. After a rather awkward talk, using himself and Baugh as an example, Nightmare seemed satisfied with his answers and went into discussing pony society.

“So, you have sex all year, too. Mares just need it during spring. What happens if she can’t find a stallion? Does she stay at home and pleasure herself for three weeks?” Scorpan asked.

“More or less. Many couples form before spring so mares won’t have to suffer through such humiliation. Disappearing for three weeks during estrous brings up a lot of jokes about them for a year.”

Their talk was interrupted by a crack as the first fireworks of the night went off. Both looked up to see red and green embers burning themselves out over their head. Everyone around her clapped as the second set flew into the air and exploded, but Nightmare's gaze switched between the faces of the crowds, the explosions, and the bands. She remembered all she had seen and heard of since setting hoof in Sumaria.

Ten minutes later, Scorpan was clapping and had lost count of each volley of fireworks. His personal favorite had gone off near the beginning, and it did not look like they would be used again until the grand finale. He saw Nightmare was smiling and staring at the ground.

“Nightmare? Nightmare?” He shook her, but she remained still.

BOOM! A pair of large explosions, each fitted with three different colors mixed together went off, giving the Sumarian skyline a rainbow for several seconds.

She looked up to him and pulled him close with her wing. “How long until they stop?” she called out.

“Shouldn’t be long. The grand finale’s bigger than this. You’ll see!”

It was. Nightmare shook her head to rid the ringing in her ears and asked, “What happens now? Does this mean the celebration is over?”

“Nah! It’s just another part to it. We could go all night long!”

“That is exactly what I wanted to hear, Scorpan.”

Nightmare stood and reared back onto her hindhooves. The wind kicked up into a cyclone around her and the crowds parted. Taking a deep breath, she shouted with all her might, “HEAR ME, PEOPLE OF SUMARIA! IN HONOR OF YOUR LOVE OF THE NIGHT, TOMORROW, THERE SHALL BE A STAR CONSTELLATION IN THE NIGHT SKY! WATCH FOR IT ABOVE THE WEST! LAST TO BE SEEN, AND LAST TO DISAPPEAR!”

She planted her front hooves on the ground again and walked back to her place next to Scorpan, who was shell--shocked by her declaration.

Walking to a nearby bench to sit down, he asked her, “Can…you do that, Nightmare? Put a new star constellation in the sky? Tomorrow night?”

“I am the one who raises the moon. I can do whatever I wish to the night sky, Scorpan. Honor whomever I choose. And I have chosen to honor your city and your people.”

Taking her hoof in his hand, he shook it proudly. “Thank you very much. I hope your sister chooses to honor us as well.”

“Don’t think about my sister. This is a night for you. Scorpan, how would you and your wife care to come to Everfree Castle Sunday night? I will give you a tour”

“I would be grateful. But will it be a long journey?”

“Hmm, perhaps. Shall I come here and teleport you Sunday night?”

“Yes, I think that would work. Thank you Nightmare, you have made this a very pleasant evening.” They shook again, hand and hoof.
> Present 4-Arrival
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight Sparkle had never been so excited to see the sky and smell the grass. Galloping out of the tunnel she and Lyra had spent the last thirty-six hours walking through, she leapt face-first into the grass. Pushing her muzzle, into the dirt she let her front legs drag while pushing with her hinds and dragged her chest along the ground. After sufficiently soiling her coat, Twilight stretched her wings, and took off into the sky, and did a barrel roll. Rainbow Dash had taught her well. She laughed like a maniac the whole time.

Lyra was also excited about leaving what she called “The Mausoleum.” She knew it would end the two of them walking out safely into the sun, but Twilight was terrified. Lyra never realized how claustrophobic she could be. Then again they spent thirty-six hours walking through, essentially, a mine shaft.

Dropping to her belly, she rolled onto her back and looked up to the sky. The sun had already set behind the mountain they just hiked through and stars were popping out from the dark blue veil. Closing her eyes, she remembered their talk just before setting hoof into the tunnel.

“Did I call it, Twilight? Or did I call it?”

Twilight gasped. “No way, Lyra. I’m not going to do it. Not a chance in Tartarus.”

“You can trust me, Twilight. It’s safe. There’s no gas, no cave-ins, it’s one-way, so we won’t get lost.”

Twilight interjected, “But it still might be too long. We just ate our seventh day of food, one more day until we will have gone through half of it. If we don’t find more or leave then, we will starve. Can you guarantee this tunnel is less than a days walk?”

“We’ll make it through, Twilight. And there’s a grassland on the other side. More food than we could eat in our whole life! Now come on.”


** ** **


“I brought a glow stick. Shake it to make it light up.” Lyra pulled two out of her saddle pack and held one out for Twilight.

Twilight simply lit her horn up and smirked. Lyra shook her glow stick and place it around her neck as they walked on.

“So you seriously can’t do magic?” Twilight asked.

Lyra stopped dead in her tracks and put all her focus into her horn. Gritting her teeth for the humiliation to come, she tried to make something, anything happen. Not so much as a spark erupted from her horn, but she did feel drained as most unicorns do after performing a lot of magic. She looked to Twilight with pained eyes, hoping she would understand.

“I heard rumors, but I thought you just had a hard time…”

“The doctors think I’m missing some nerves attaching it to my brain. I can still feel with it, but I have little choice other than to live with it. Besides, it makes me unique. I have an appreciation for how Earth Ponies have it, something no ‘true’ unicorn can say.”


** ** **


The tunnel had turned left about two kilometers in, dropping Twilight and Lyra into complete darkness. Lyra had never really been afraid of the dark, but this was different. She started reciting a play in her head she read in high school so often she memorized it, and tried not to look around.

The ceiling was built in an arch, so whoever made it had a decent knowledge of construction and wanted it to last. Both mares kept quiet, knowing the wind didn't blow this far into the tunnel and they didn't want to use the little fresh air they had for passing the time.

That was another thing that concerned Lyra: there was zero ventilation to speak of. Locomotives in Equestria were powered by steam and could not pass through a tunnel this long. It would need to let off pressure now and then, but in a confined space, the passengers, or even the engineers, would be in danger of suffocation. So, how could a train be pulled through all this without killing anyone?


** ** **


Stumbling and hanging their heads low, all Lyra could think of was Nightmare Moon. She was trapped on the moon for a thousand years. It was eternal night there, with the sun still beating down on you, so maybe she and Celestia both got what they wanted.

Twilight told her how she managed to beat the Nightmare, but a few things still didn't add up in Lyra’s mind. What happened to Celestia? Why had Celestia left the Elements at her old castle when she might need them? Was there seriously no one who loved the night a thousand years ago? She had hoped to find answers by digging up the old castle, but she found nothing. No clues, no indication of why Luna did what she did, nothing except what Luna did.

And then there were her dreams. Nightmare Moon was guiding her to an old castle, similar but different to the one she was excavating. Very soon, she hoped to find what Nightmare was telling her about there, until she realized her adventure would begin in Appleoosa, and that dropped all interest in the castle from her mind.


** ** **


Eventually they did start talking, or rather singing. Lyra had long since stopped keeping track of time, and Twilight had long since reminded her that they just ate their ninth day of food. They had no choice but to keep going, which they did without worry.

“Lyra, how much further do we have to go?”

“I don’t know, Twilight. Do you?”

“I think I see light down there. Cover your light.” Twilight let her horn fade out while Lyra stuffed her glow stick in her saddle pack. Lyra thought she did indeed see something, which in itself was a miracle.

“Light! Lyra, we did it! We only have to run and we. Are. Out!” She took off cantering and Lyra was right behind her, racing to a prick of blue in the distance.

Before she ran into the open air, she smelled it: fresh, clean, cool air. Nothing had energized her more than that first breath. 

She leapt out from under the last of the mountain--

“Lyra, wake up,” Twilight’s voice snapped her out of her daydreaming and she rolled onto her belly. Looking up she saw the sky had faded from blue to orange. They must have fallen asleep. Twilight Sparkle stood before her, already laden with her saddle packs looking refreshed.

“C’mon! We’re burning daylight! Let’s find this castle of yours!”

Clambering to her hooves, Lyra peered through her sleep-encrusted eyes for her own packs and saw them nearby. Guzzling down both of her canteens of water, she strapped her packs on and taunted Twilight. “Why the change of heart? Don’t wanna go back now?”

“You were right all along, Lyra! Plus, I had some of the grass for breakfast. It is delicious beyond words! You try.” She gestured at the dewy blades beneath their hooves.

Leaning down, Lyra took a bite of the softest, most pure, most filling grass she had eaten in her life. One bite seemed enough to satisfy her, but she took more than one bite. After five minutes of Lyra eating and Twilight smirking at her she leaned back up and wiped her mouth.

“I’m telling you, Lyra, this is magic. This grass, I would swear there’s more to it than what we can see. I wanna grab extra grass on the way back for a nutritionist to check out.” Grinning from ear to ear, Twilight said, “Well, lead the way! I’m so excited.”


** ** **


After several hours of walking, the two mares came across a pile of stone to their left. At which point Lyra stopped and stared at it. Scowling for a moment, she dropped her head and started to chuckle. Her chuckle then became a full, mirthless laugh when she started walking east again. Twilight was getting worried. “Lyra, what’s wrong?”

Through her mad laugh, Lyra told her, “Hehehe. I don’t know, Twilight. It’s just…it’s gone! Whatever was there is gone, and I get the feeling it should be. Hahahe. I always looked at it with contempt in my dreams, and seeing it in person, well, I don’t understand why, but it makes sense.”

“So, how long until we reach the castle?”

“It shouldn't be too much further. I do remember there being a pretty wild river running along the side.”

“Lyra, what do you expect to find there? We have come all this way, but what are you expecting?”

“I have cameras, trowels, a screen mesh, plenty of notebooks for categorization, translation books; the castle is intact, so I expect a few artifacts intact. I didn't mention it, but I was hoping you know a Duplication Spell so we could copy special items and bring them back. To answer your question, I don’t know what to expect. Nightmare Moon guided me out here, and she wants something dug up and known. I said I’m putting my trust in her, and I’m not going to change until she gives me a reason not to.”


** ** **


The sun had reached its peak when Twilight heard the sound of rushing water. Without saying a word, she took flight and looked around. “Lyra! Over the hill to your left. We found your castle!”

Blinking and shaking her head, Lyra Heartstrings turned and galloped to the crest of the hill Twilight pointed out, which ended with a cliff. Looking up, see saw a calm, wide river, and, beyond that, a towering building. Not quite the castle she dreamed of, but it looked similar. The sun was in her eyes blocking most of her view, turning the building into a shade of shadow.

Twilight wrapped her in her aura of purple magic and carried her on her flight across the river. They landed a few steps in front of a gate with lettering in an arch over the entrance.


Midnight Castle


Twilight looked at the arch questioningly. “Is that…Old Equestrian Script?”

“It looks like it. Do you think Equestrian Ponies ever set foot here?” Lyra asked.

“I don’t know. But this place must be old. Celestia told me the Merchant Guild developed Script a short while before Nightmare’s Eclipse. It was made to be a universal alphabet based on phonetics, adaptable to most languages. Before, we were doing hieroglyphics, and there was very little consistency, so writing wasn't common. Script made trade much easier with foreigners, and they adapted the alphabet to their own languages. That’s why much of the world can trace its literacy roots to Equestria. And few races have used writing like that in a long time,” Twilight explained.

Lyra sighed. “After all this time…Let’s go in Twilight. I doubt anyone’s waiting for us.” She expected the iron gate to be rusted shut, but all it took was a gentle push to open to the courtyard. Grass was growing here too, though it looked groomed and thicker than what they encountered earlier.

Both ponies looked around as they approached the main entrance. The court was a simple grass lawn with various trees scattered here and there. Twilight felt she was in a dream; this place had the feeling of being abandoned, but everything was too well-cared for. She stopped dead in her tracks.

“Lyra, go on ahead. I’m going to do something.” Lighting her horn, she searched for the ley lines surrounding her, reaching out for the magic embedded in the environment. The moment she Opened herself, she encountered an explosion of passive magic, shocking her to the point she fell face-down. It was like what she expected from the Elements of Harmony if she Opened herself up to experience them like that.

So much magic pouring out from many directions, all of it waiting for something to happen, waiting for something to affect. There were a number of ley lines that affected other lines themselves, throwing more confusion into the storm. And if a situation of object were to be affected by this hurricane of magic, one object could be changed two ways. And on top of all this, many lines were unfamiliar to her. Not just with how they affected objects, but they that were not unicorn magic to begin with. She had Opened herself to four ram-crafted Sound Stones Zecora had shown her. Rarity was more familiar with them. And she felt herself forced Open when she received her wings.

Climbing to her hooves she looked around and saw nothing had changed, but this place was clearly a mess of magic. Perhaps it was Discord’s home. She never asked where he had come from, and with this much magical confusion, it might explain why he was so chaotic.

“Twilight, you okay?” Lyra reached out a hoof to pull her up.

Shaking her head, she confessed what she had done. “I-I don’t know what’s going on here. There’s too much happening. It’s like trying to hold a conversation in a crowd, but everypony insists on talking to you. It’s...something’s different here.”

“The door's right up there. Mind reaching for my flashlight? We will need to see the walls and I need more light than that glowstick. I got a magnet-powered one.” Twilight fished it out and placed it in Lyra’s open hoof as they climbed the steps.

Opening the doors much too big for them, Twilight saw an entrance hall like in Canterlot Castle, but this was much smaller, and far less grand. The stained-glass windows filled the hall with colored lights, and the first thing the two mares noticed was a painting at the end of the hall. Walking towards it, Lyra shown her flashlight and Twilight lit her horn and pointed it to a tapestry and other portraits on the wall. They displayed beings standing upright, covered with clothing. Some had landscapes full of animals, crops, even what looked like the construction of the castle.

“Holy Tartarus this place is old!” Twilight’s voice broke the silence.

“What?” Lyra turned to look at the painting Twilight was focused on. It had more of the beings standing before two ponies about the same size as them. One was white with a pink mane and tail, one was jet-black with a blue mane and tail. “What do you see?”

Twilight was nearly breathless. “That’s Princess Celestia! Before she took over raising the moon. And right next to her is Luna. This scene is at LEAST one-thousand=and-three years old. The painting may not be, but…I don’t know.”

“I saw Luna in two other paintings on my side. Right over there.” Lyra pointed her flashlight in the direction she saw them. Both had a jet black alicorn standing close to one of the beings. Twilight stepped over to examine them. When she was satisfied, they kept looking at the walls, seeing more beings, and more of Celestia and Luna. The Entrance Hall ended with a wall and another hall going either way forming a T. On the wall hung a portrait of another two beings in a pair of chairs. One had fair brown hair, the other had red. They looked like husband and wife to Lyra from the way they rested their “hooves” on each other.

Twilight stared at it before turning right into a staircase. Lyra went the other way into a room with a piano and another painting on the wall. Something about the painting drew her to focus on the beings in this one too and how they looked at Luna and Celestia. She heard Twilight enter behind her after a while, and something clicked in her mind.

“My gosh! I think they're humans!”

“Humans? Lyra, I know it’s just us, but let’s keep this academic.”

“No. Twilight, seriously, I think we are seeing human beings. They might have even lived in this castle! C’mon, I’ll show you what I mean!”

Running out into the Entrance Hall again, she stopped in front of the picture where Twilight first recognized Celestia and Luna. “Look at them. They are exactly what the fairy tales describe. Standing upright, they all wear clothes all the time,” she said, pointing at the portrait at the end of the hall. “They have five digits on their forelimbs,” Lyra explained, looking Twilight in the eye. “But most telling of all, none of them are bowing to Celestia and Luna. Not. One.”

Twilight looked at the paintings she had seen and thought it over. “N-no. No, Lyra. Whatever they are, they do bow to Princess Celestia and Luna. They're just not showing it in their pictures.”

“Twilight Sparkle, humans never bow to anything. Every fairytale about them says that. Nothing. They are standing in front of the Princesses of the Moon and Sun, and they stand just as tall and proud as they do.”

“Well, there you go. They are arrogant and think they are equal to the Princesses.  Nothing like that exists. So they can’t be humans.” Twilight reasoned.

“Twilight, if humans did exist here, this rewrites all the fairytales I heard growing up. This might be what Nightmare Moon sent me here to find. I--we have to search this place more. You’re right, this is academic. We can figure out exactly what they are later. Come on, Twilight! Let’s search!”

Lyra reached into her saddlepack and drew out two cameras, giving one to Twilight as she bounded down the hall to take pictures of the outside. Twilight hung her head.

She already said she trusted Lyra, and this was part of the ride. Human beings! This…this was going to be big! 
> Past 5-Quest for the Smooze
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Walking through the market was one of the best ways for Scorpan to relax. The merchants peddling their wares, negotiations for products, even the screams of an obnoxious child told him Sumaria had become a home to all of them. Eighteen months had passed since they had set foot in Ur, but, in many ways, it was no different than simply moving to another city.

He had no more trouble from Celestia, and Nightmare was a good friend of his. She stopped by Sumaria every several weeks and he got the impression she wanted come by more often. She didn’t talk about her time away and she seemed rather lonely when he visited her in Everfree Castle. As Governor, or Prince as most still called him, Scorpan dealt with foreign relations. However, their neighbors didn’t want much to do with Sumaria. Most of the time.

The crowd around him was getting excited about something. Turning around a bend, he saw a grey-and-white griffon poking a slab of pork hanging at a meat stall. The owner was not pleased.

“You gonna pay for that?” he snapped.

“I’m not paying you.” The griffon walked when Scorpan heard a rough voice call his name.

“You the Prince here? I’m talking to you.”

Turning around, Scorpan took a step back when he was eye-to-eye with another griffon. This one was grey and gold. “Y-yes, I am. Who are you?”

“Name’s Bey.” He was wearing an iron chestplate and carried a dagger in a sheath tied around his front claw. Though he stood the same height as Scorpan, he was still an intimidating sight. Biting down on an apple, he said, “Here to make you an offer. I hear you have someone stealing cattle?”

Scorpan held eye contact as he replied, “Some… people have reported losing breeding cows and pigs. It’s nothing the farmers can’t handle themselves.”

“We can handle it,” Bey said before popping the remains of the apple into his mouth. “Give us a few days an’ no one’s losing any more livestock.”

“Are you mercenaries or organized crime? I don’t care much for either.”

“Call us entrepreneurs. The Grundels didn’t care much for us either.”

Looking him straight in the eye, Scorpan told him what he thought when such a sacred Sumarian word was misused. “Leave my city. I didn’t put up with Celestia, and I won’t put with you. Go.”

Bey tilted his head as he asked, “What do you mean you didn’t put up with Celestia?”

“She tried to extort us too. We will never pay her a mite. And you’re not getting any more than her.”

“You don’t pay tribute to Celestia?” He grabbed what looked like a dead mouse from a pouch around his neck. “That what you’re saying?”

“No. We don’t.”

“I heard rumors you didn’t; now I know. I can now respect that, IF you keep this up. You win. We’ll leave you alone. And 	remember my gang. ‘If it ain’t broke, we’ll break it.’”

“Right. What was that you said about the Grundels?”

“This is Grundel Land. You must know what happened to the Grundels.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Oh really? Haha. You’ll see.” He had an edge to his voice, making Scorpan worried.

“If you know, you can tell me.”

“Look man, I only heard things. You wanna know for yourself, go see the Muchick.”

“I’ve heard of him. Where can I find him? What exactly is he?”

Bey took Scorpan in his wings and pointed north. “He lives in the Mushrump, a magical grove of mushrooms. He knows a great deal of magic. He’s brilliant, that’s what he is. And quite mad.”

Pulling himself out of Bey’s wing, Scorpan turned and thanked the griffon for his directions. “But what happened to the Grundels?”

“They’re dead. That’s all I know for sure. We would swing by and swipe a few off the ground. Easy prey. Thank your stars you’re too big for that.”

Bey was at ease discussing taking Grundels away to eat, but Scorpan supposed it was no different to him as hunting a deer. Hmm… He would have to speak to the Muchick and see what happened to the Grundels.


** ** **


The tallest mushrooms stalks Scorpan had ever seen sank into the ground as they came into his view. Behind them lay a grove of mushrooms as Bey had said, and there was actually a house sitting on a hill in the dead center. The sun of late morning glimmered overhead and he tried not to step on anything--a fruitless task, seeing that the grass itself was actually green fungus. Scorpan liked mushrooms too, but on his plate. Those that grew wild could be poisonous and that made him afraid to breathe in spores. It was a silly fear, really.

“Mr. Muchick! Mr. Muchick? I’m sorry to trespass, but I must speak with you. I come bearing gifts.” In the sack he slung over his shoulder he brought two glass Spy-Orbs. Looking into one would show the surroundings of the other. It was a favorite tool for spies, thieves, and sentinels of all kinds back in Ur.

A rabbit standing in its hind legs and wearing suspenders on his trousers was waving him over and tugging on the cap of a particularly large mushroom. Stepping closer, Scorpan asked, “I’m looking for the Muchick. Are you him?”

The mushrooms turned around and it was, in fact, a man, or dwarf, or elf. What he took to be the cap was the Muchick’s enormous yellow hat, with his ears poking out through the top. His voice was cordial and inviting. 

“Well, hello! Don’t just stand there! Come in! Come in. I have exactly what you’re looking for!” The tiny man danced off towards his home and walked through the door like a mist before opening it to Scorpan.

Sighing to himself, he remembered the griffon saying the Muchick was mad. “How do you know what I’m looking for?”

“You, my good sir, are looking for some tea. And here you are!” The Muchick pressed a carved piece of wood shaped like the letter “T” into his hands and went to wave his wand at a kettle on the stove.

Rolling his eyes, Scorpan took a seat at the table. “Actually, I wanted to ask you about the Grundels. See, I heard they--“

The Muchick interrupted him. “Oh come, come, come. Now’s not the time for such talk. Let us speak of good things. What did you say your name was? Harold? Manticore?”

“My name is Scorpan. And I--“ He was cut off by the kettle whistling. After a few seconds? How efficient.

“Yes, yes. I know who you are. You’re the Prince of Sumaria. Now, to what do I owe this visit? Ah, you are here to try to buy my land? Are you here to ask me to bring more people from your homeland here?”

“No. I heard you know what happened to the Grundels. I spoke to a griffon--“ A cup of tea was thrust into his hands while the Muchick laid out sugar and butter. Butter?! I’m already getting tired of this.

“Ah yes. The Wise and Mighty Griffons. They know a great deal about gossip. They--“

“They said you know what happened to the Grundels.” Scorpan stopped himself from shouting.

“Ah yes. The Grundels died off. A few days before your people first arrived. Lucky for them.” The Muchick didn’t seem bothered by Scorpan’s outburst and finally sat in his chair. Taking his tea in his chubby hand, he sipped it and continued, “If they saw the Smooze, you never would have come to this land. It’s frightfully dangerous. More so than you can imagine.”

“I’m sorry... Smooze? And what do you mean dangerous? I studied this world for weeks before moving here, and months since then. It doesn’t seem any worse than Ur,” Scorpan reasoned.

“You don’t know many of your neighbors, do you? I’m not surprised. You look like the Witches and live right where the Grundels were Smoozed. Everyone either thinks you’re just like the Witches or will die anyway. And it’s not my place to tell you about Smooze. Not at all. I think I have a map…”

He pulled off his hat, revealing human ears on his head, instead of the pointed ears of an elf that poked through his hat. Scorpan face-palmed while the Muchick dug through what sounded like a trunk full of materials hidden under his cap.

“Let’s see, is this it?” He pulled out a pocket watch, followed by a red heart-shaped locket, a roll of blank paper, and an orange tea kettle before saying, “Ah, here it is!”

He lay down a map titled “The Valley of Dreams” and pointed to the northwest corner. It was marked, “Flutter Valley--Home of the Flutterponies.” 

“They can tell you about the Smooze. And the Witches. And much more! If you hurry, you can make it through the Forest while the dendroids sleep. They’re nocturnal, and quite vicious against outsiders, especially when they wake up. Now, off you go!”

He shooed Scorpan out of his chair and towards the door. Grateful to soon be away from the Muchick’s tomfoolery, he still had questions. “But, who are the Flutterponies? How do they fit in with the Grundels? What the hell is Smooze?”

“All in good time. Now hurry, hurry, hurry! The dendroids won’t sleep for long!” The Muchick slammed the door behind him.

Looking at the map and his surroundings, Scorpan pondered, Maybe he knew what I wanted all along. He seemed far too mad for anything besides brilliance as well.


** ** **


He sincerely hoped the dendroids were not the trees around him. Many of them had faces carved into the bark and sounded like they breathed through their face. The Wilds of Avlee were said to have beings like this, but they were peaceful, wise, and rarely spoke to humans. Only in the darkest of days in legends did they actively move, and then they waged war like a force of nature.

Turning the bend, Scorpan saw the end of the trail, where the dirt footpath turned into fertile grassland. Stepping from under the canopy, his breath was taken away. Snow-capped mountains in the background with diverse, lush full forests branching out from their base and a garden of beautiful, possibly unique flowers growing before them loomed before him.

The gardens were the defining feature of the Valley, covering whole square kilometers of land. Growing every kind of grass, from crabgrass to bamboo, Scorpan recognized Chocolate Cosmos, Jade Vine, and Koki’o, three flowers that were extinct back home. Colored lanterns hung from everywhere, but were made from wood instead of glass. Those must have been the homes of the Flutterponies.

No, this Valley was their home. The Lanterns were where they slept—just shelter, where they got out of the rain. The Flutterponies lived collectively in the gardens and slept in their individual homes.

He sighed again at the thought of the neighbors his people had so little in common with and strolled down the unkempt stone path leading from the forest. The Flutterponies buzzed around, their wings looking as delicate as a butterfly’s. Yet, they held up the same body structure as all the ponies he had come across so far. 

Oh, what kind of magic holds them during flight? he wondered. Firefly had not known when he asked her, but maybe the Flutterponies did. Weeds grew in the narrow crack between the rocks under his feet. His eyes combed around, waiting for the Flutterponies to notice him. They did.

A gong sounded in the distance breaking the silence. A dozen Flutterponies converged on and surrounded him, one even floating behind him blocking his escape back into the forest. A grey one with an auburn mane spoke to Scorpan. 

“You must leave. This is not your place and no one invited you. Please go.” Her voice was soft but commanding. She left no room for augment.

“Please don’t. I need your help. My people are in trouble.” He held out in hands in desperation. Only now did he realize how worried he was for Sumaria.

“We tried to help others before, and only disaster followed. We won’t make that mistake twice. It’s for your own good. Solve whatever it is yourself.”

“But I don’t know what’s going on! I don’t know what the Smooze is; I don’t know where it comes from or how to stop it.” He took a deep breath and tried to tell his story calmly. “I was told my people live in what was Grundeland, and that they were killed off by the Smooze. I don’t know anything about the Smooze, but I was told to ask you. So, what happened to the Grundels?”

From the mention of Smooze, every Flutterpony bowed their head and avoided eye contact with him. The one behind him blocking his path into the forest, a yellow pony with a pink mane, spoke to him next. 

“Scorpan, do not go back into the forest.” Craning his neck around to look at her, he wondered how she knew his name. “The dendroids will awaken soon and will not take kindly to your presence. They fear Ax-Wielders, and will treat you as such. You will stay with us tonight, in my library, and I will answer any question you have. Climb on my back.”

Touching down behind him, she lowered her wings, giving him a place to saddle up. Climbing onto her, he felt her struggle to hold herself up with his weight, but she had no trouble with him at all in flight.

She soared over the lanterns and gardens, no more than twenty meters. He didn’t see any building big enough for a library, unless it was underground or the lanterns were much bigger than they looked. A building decorated with marble and bronze was hidden by a cluster of trees, and Scorpan did not even notice it until they were gliding down to a balcony on the third floor.

It was indeed a library. Inside were four floors of bookshelves, large, darkening windows as the sun set, and tables for study work. She led him to a private corner in what could have passed for the basement.

Nothing in this Valley was as it seemed; his jaw nearly fell from his mouth when she lifted a cylinder of some liquid off a table, shook it, and light spilled from it. She asked him to “light up” three other cylinders scattered on the shelves. When the area was well-lit, the pony laid a bowl of fruit on the table they sat at and introduced herself.

“My name is Queen Rosedust, Steward of the Flutterponies. Anya was right. This is our home, and you were trespassing. You wish to know of the Smooze and the fate of the Grundels, but we wish to be left alone. It is because of the Smooze and what happened to the Grundels that we want nothing to do with the outside world. We made a tragic error in judgment and we came to believe xenophobia was a… an acceptable alternative to repeating what happened. Please understand, we hide here out of shame.” She spoke solemnly, not meeting his eyes.

“I understand shame, Queen Rosedust. I will withhold judging you until you have had your say.” He matched her tone before she shook her head.

“No, judge me however and whenever you wish. It did matter to me once. Not anymore.” She took a deep breath and began again, still not meeting his eye.

“It started many years ago when a family of witches took up residence on the Volcano of Gloom. They were skilled in ways of magic and science. We sought each other out to learn from one another. Trades were made. Among them, everything one of our scientists had worked on imparting life into the inanimate. They taught us a great deal, and we taught them the same. We exchanged goods and were prosperous. But that all changed when the Smooze struck Grundeland.”

Rosedust sighed deeply. “A scientist named Whittaker once asked, ‘What makes life alive?’ He spent his whole life studying. Much of our knowledge of nutrition, health, microscopic life, and even life before birth comes from his work. He tried to build cells from amino acids and even tried to resurrect the dead. His success is questioned to this day, but he gleaned knowledge even from such morally questionable acts. His amino acid experiments led him to another idea, and he managed to create life in an object that by no means had any right to be alive.

“It did not process energy. It had no known way to move. It was sentient and spoke, but had no brain. It was an ever-expanding mass, but where it got it material is a mystery. It did react to its environment, but not in any predictable way. Smooze was an abomination to life itself.”

“So, what was the Smooze exactly?” Scorpan asked, fearing he already had the best answer he would get.

“We could never define it as one thing or another. It frightened and intrigued us. Whittaker said it would be the ultimate survivor if it was let loose, but he kept it under lock and key. It never left his lab, and he destroyed every sample he made. We… thought the Witches could unlock mysteries of the Smooze if we let them look at it, and they were excited to do so.

“Four years ago, a Flutterpony rang the gong and announced he had seen a purple and grey mass engulfing Grundeland. Everyone had flown out to help, but when we arrived, it was too late. The Grundels were gone, crushed by the mass, which had hardened into stone in the time it took us to get there. That mass was the Smooze. Our wings produce a powder that can corrode the Smooze as if it were an acid on skin. We tried to dig out any survivors. We found many, many bodies. It took days to clear all the Smooze away and we back tracked it to the Volcano of Gloom.

“We asked them what could have happened and Patriarch Thornwood laughed. He LAUGHED at their deaths. He explained that they had indeed learned about the mysteries of the Smooze and had ‘streamlined’ and ‘empowered’ it. I was there. I saw the joy in his eye as he spoke of its speed--how easy it was to encourage, and the simplicity of producing it. After we left, I vomited my breakfast in mid-flight. I did not eat for a week afterwards.”

Rosedust’s tone had remained calm and serious until she finally looked Scorpan in the eye. She glared at him and venom dripped from her mouth. “His family killed Faust knows how many Grundels, and we gave him the tools to do it. I hated everything! I considered declaring war on them, but we had no causis belli. We let it go. We have not spoken to them since that day, and have no plans to do so. We held a summit and decided to cut ourselves off from the world, and not allow ourselves to be the death of, or even affect the growth of, other species.

“That is what happened. Call us cowards, xenophobes, anything you like, Scorpan.”

He had no words for her. He knew he should say something, though. ”How do you know my name?”

“The Muchick wrote to me, saying you would be coming. You look similar to the Witches, and if we thought one of them had come to our home, they would have died a very painful death. He saved your life today. Then again, he directed you here, so you owe him nothing.”

Picking a bunch of grapes from the bowl of fruit, Scorpan thought about what else he needed to know. “What will happen if the Witches unleash the Smooze on my people?”

“Run. If you can fly, that would be better, but don’t hesitate. Flutterponies are the only ones who can stop the Smooze. If the Witches want you dead, there is little you can do. But don’t kiss their ass. I would avoid them altogether.” She had turned away again and was awkwardly rolling an apple on the table, waiting for him to speak again.

“Where is the Volcano of Gloom? Is it one of the mountains surrounding my home?” An idea started forming in his mind.

“It is directly north of your home. You will pass it before you set foot in Sumaria again.” She seemed to know everything he could want to know. But maybe there were things she did not know for certain.

“What would you do if the Witches left the Valley of Dreams? What if you woke up and heard they were gone?” The gears in his head turned, scheming, plotting, thinking of possibilities and consequences…

Another heavy sigh escaped her lips. She sounded like a boss after a hard day’s work, and being a queen, he knew that’s exactly what she was. “I don’t know, Scorpan. Celebrate, certainly. If they left, it would be a world of weight off my shoulders. But, alas, who would do such a thing?” 

She looked him in the eye again, winking as if they were fellow conspirators. “No one has the courage to stand up to them, or even meet them. In such a big and frightening world. Who can blame anyone for xenophobia, really? We might even open ourselves up to trade again.”

“I need to meet them, even if for a few minutes. Can I sleep in here tonight?” His head was full of ideas, but his body would need rest for the journey tomorrow.

“You most certainly can. I will bring a pitcher of water for you now and wake you in the morning. If you need a chamber pot, we have a running water toilet on the second floor.”

She trotted away for his water. He found a soft spot next to a bookshelf. He had a big day when the sun came up.


** ** **


His winced, pulling his palm to his face, a trail of blood already growing from under his ring finger. The small cut ran all the way to his wrist--a reminder to bring gloves along next time. He looked at the stairway he had been scaling for two hours and was discouraged by how far he still had to go. At least it was much less steep for now on.

Scorpan wrapped his hand in a bandage while continuing his hike. This was the Volcano of Gloom. This was where the Witches lived, and this was his last chance to stop the Smooze from killing his own people.

Pressing onward, he tried not to breathe too deep. The air was thick with sulfur, driving him to gag and cough. It was bad at first, but he could live with it after a few hours. What really bothered him was this stairway running almost to the summit. It was carved into the stone, similar to footholds dug into glaciers and icebergs, and if it didn’t stop soon, he was going to climb right into the volcanic cauldron. The geologists from Ur had concluded it had been sleeping for four hundred years based on ash in the soil. They simply had not said which mountain was the volcano.

Hacking up another bad lungful of air, he stumbled to a stop and caught his breath. Queen Rosedust had escorted him to the edge of the forest, eager to send him on his way. He had many more questions, which she gladly answered. Before departing, they exchanged some final words. 

“You are free to come visit us any time in Sumaria.”

“You already know my answer, but thank you for the offer.”

“Before I go...” He reached into his duffle bag and pulled out a Spy-Orb. “Please, take it. Feel free to lock it up in your closet if you don’t want me to see anything. I will keep mine in my office.”

“I could not accept a gift and then hide it.” She pawed at the ground.

“I brought it as an intention of Goodwill. Either you take it, or the Witches may find a use for it.”

Her eyes snapped up to his and she had her look of power again. “Don’t you dare let them touch these. I will take it when the last Witch has stopped breathing. Not a moment before.” She pointed to the forest. “You best be on your way. I hope to see you soon.”

The conspiracy he thought he heard in her voice was a certainty now. If only he had the plan. Before picking himself up again, there was a click behind him. Turning to the sound, an unmistakable whoosh of a small rock whizzing past his ear had him turning every direction. 

Another rock hit him square in the chest.

“Oof! Cut it out!”

A human child’s hand and face popped out from behind a rock downhill from him, tossing another rock, which he jumped from easily. Another head popped up from behind the same rock and held the child’s arm still. She called out, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to speak to meet my neighbors. My wife and I just moved in down the street and I’m trying to be friendly.” His tone was indeed friendly, hoping to get a laugh.

The girl stood up and dragged the boy with her to the staircase and walked up to meet him. She had a rounded, pudgy nose with hair black as coal. “I’m Delilah. This is my twin brother, Sussex. Welcome to our mountain. Follow us to our home!”

She pulled her brother’s hand and lead Scorpan up the stairway a little more before leaping onto a rock on the side. She waved her hand and called him over to another path, this one lined with crushed stone.

He was impressed by her pace. She dragged her brother’s hand, but they managed to keep him jogging as best he could with his rucksack slamming into his side every other step. He called out for them to slow down and they waited, just long enough for him to catch up to them. Then, they were back to running. Scorpan was not the most active man, but he would be damned if he couldn’t keep up with a pair of kids.

After half an hour, they led him to a small village built on the mountain side. It could hardly be called a village; there were fewer than fifteen homes. Each was built from stone with a thatched roof. Some had extra rooms built in and all had a different-colored smoke rising from one of three chimneys. Delilah kept waving him over to one house in particular, which was no different from the rest.

“Gran’ pa! We found a friend!” she called out, rushing past the open door.

Scorpan took his shoes off at the door and remained until a man who looked twice as old as him came to shake his hand. His greying beard was as black as Delilah at one point. He held a hookah pipe between his teeth and he wore an off-tan toga. He smelled strongly of smoke and sweat. His beetle-black eyes around his pudgy nose sparkled in recognition.

“You must be Scorpan! Prince of Sumaria! Welcome to my humble abode. Come in, come in, make yourself at home. Clarisse! Get this man some drink! Come have a seat.”

Scorpan was half-pushed away from the doorway through a greeting hall and into what he guessed was the living room. It also smelled of smoke. There was much more decoration inside the home: heavy curtains around the windows, along with couches and sofas arranged in a half-circle around a heavily padded chair with an ottoman. A fireplace held a pyramid of logs but no pokers. Beyond the living room was a dining room. The table held fourteen chairs.

He found himself pushed into the heavily padded chair with his guest taking a seat on a nearby couch. “Now, what brings you to our home? I am Patriach Thornwood. This is my wife, Clarisse. We only serve the best wines to guests. Drink up!”

Thornwood spoke quickly and cordially, taking two glasses from his wife. She was a giantess of a woman, standing a head taller than himself with the same nose and hair of her husband and grandchild. She smiled politely and left them quickly.

“Yes, Thornwood. My name is Scorpan. How do you know me? Have you been to Sumaria?” He had an idea of what he must do and started fishing for information right away.

“No, I have not. But my wife and daughters have, months after you moved in. They tried not to draw attention to themselves, and you made no effort to get to know the neighbors. Ha.” 

Thornwood slapped his knee and sipped his wine. “We have not poisoned you. Drink.”

Scorpan had not touched his glass yet and timidly sipped. He did have a weakness for raspberry-fortified wine, so he struggled not to drain his glass right then. “It’s good, thank you. And yes, we have been rather shy. I have meet a few neighbors personally, but we don’t seek them out. And Celestia showed up on our doorstep one day demanding tribute. We did not come here for that, nor do we want trouble from others so we keep to ourselves.”

Thornwood wanted to talk, so Scorpan let him talk away. “Ah, Celestia giving you trouble? I hope you told her off.” He’s no fan of hers either.

“Better yet, I invited her sister to our party that night. And she made a new star constellation for us the next night.”

“Good man. Now, where did you come from? Your city seemed to spring up overnight.” 
Thornwood changed the subject, sipping at his wine again.

Keep drinking, old man. “We left our home. They passed a law we didn’t like. We said it would be the death of us. So, we came here and started a new life, a better life. Some of us came here before, but one day all--“

He nearly dropped their population. He had to be careful not to let Thornwood learn too much about his people. “All of us came in a few days. We brought lumber, stone, bronze, metals for building, bronze for piping, food to feed us until our crops come in--which they did. Rather well, I might add. Our city was up and running long ago, and we have made plans to expand.”

“Expand? How? To where? How’s your population growing?”

Scorpan pretended to sip his wine again, hoping his guest would mirror his act. “We want to trade with neighbors and I heard about your family. Where did you come from? What goods could you offer? What magics do you know?”

“You voluntarily left your home. We were driven from ours. Others did not approve of some of our practices, so we faced either their tree-perched nooses or a new home. We’ve made a living here, and are proud of what we’ve done. We have livestock and know of minerals, but we lack the need to utilize many of them. You mentioned magic. Are you wizards?” Thornwood asked.

“We came here using magic, and I myself know a great deal about magic. And I employ a number of scholars in case we need to work together.” All of Scorpan’s scholars worked their “normal” jobs, and he summoned them only when he needed to. They were expected to keep their minds sharp and their bodies fit. He expected himself to think clearly after forty-eight hours of work, and he couldn’t afford a mind that was not able to keep up.

Thornwood continued, “Our true wealth is not in gold or goats, but our libraries and experience. We did great things with magic for our homeland. To repay us, they drove us away. We will still do great things with magic, but horde the results for ourselves then. Unless you are interested in sharing what you know?” 

Bingo.

“Perhaps. What great things have you done?” Scorpan allowed himself a sip of his wine while Thornwood finished his.

“We could build weapons to make Celestia cower beneath us. Are you aware of the power of the atom?”

Scorpan knew of atoms, and the potential power they held. Such marvels wielded by a man who did what he did sent a shiver down Scorpan’s spine. “Should an atom large enough be split, it would release enough energy to make a grain of sand jump,” he said.

“A single atom, and a single grain of sand. What if multiple atoms were compacted together tightly, so splitting one set off a chain reaction to set off more? How much energy could you release? Maybe you could set the world on fire? THAT is what we study. We are finding ways to animate bodies after death.”

Scorpan nearly had a silent seizure at his words. Thornwood continued, “And to stop the process of decay.  We could build a doorway to another world and swallow up anything we choose. We are going to do great things in this valley! Do you want to come along for the ride?”

Thornwood was oblivious to the sweat on Scorpan’s forehead and his rapid blinking. He was staring off into the distance at some brilliant future, one that scared Scorpan to death. His answer came out in a slow, measured response.

“What would I do?”

“You could join us, my good man! We could learn from one another! Trade! Grow! We could put that bitch Celestia in her place. Show her where exhorting you gets her.” He was growing more cheerful at the possibilities, and would have continued, when the front door opened again.

“Father? Mother?” Thornwood called out, letting the new voices know where he was as Scorpan turned around and saw a couple carrying boxes of vegetables down the hall with them.

They both had the same black hair, but she was missing an earlobe. It was not just cut off--it looked as if she was born without it entirely. It reminded him of the boy he first saw. His sister was much bigger, but she said they were twins. Weird…

After leaving his box in the kitchen, the man came, drink in hand to sit with Thornwood and Scorpan. He introduced himself. “Gusto. I see you know my father.” Gusto had an unusually high-pitched voice. Something’s going on here. “What are we talking about?”

“I was explaining to Scorpan what we are studying and asked if he wanted to join our cause.”

“And I,” Scorpan said, taking a leap of faith, “was just asking about something. Smooze, I think it was called? What IS Smooze exactly?”

Gusto let out a mirthless explanation. “Ha! Smooze is what we destroyed the Grundels with!” Or we could do this the easy way. “We cooked up a big old batch and crushed them. Stupid, brainless, dirty, incestuous, delicious animals. We did the whole world a favor!”

“Still your tongue boy!” Thornwood snapped at him, but looked at Scorpan. “Forgive him, he already smells of wine.

“Yes, we used Smooze before. Got the recipe from the Flutterponies. Doubt they liked what we did with it. We made it much better. We found out how it works, inside and out. Do you want the secrets to the Smooze? They can be yours,” he said enticingly.

“I did hear from a griffon the Grundels used to be their prey. Otherwise, yes. I and my city will join you on this voyage to the Limits of Magic!” Scorpan raised his glass to toast. It was a chant from his school years and should have meant nothing to the two men before him, but they raised their own glasses as well.

“So, how hard was it to create the Smooze?” Scorpan asked casually.

Gusto went back to bragging. “All you need is to gather the ingredients--it doesn’t really matter how much--and throw them into a bowl, cauldron, whatever, and they will mix and do the rest. But the whole family helped, really. Except our Patriarch over here. He did steer it like a ship.”

“I said that’s enough, boy. Now, go help the women in the kitchen. It’s gonna be supper soon and we have a guest.” Thornwood scolded his son again.

Despite his empty belly, Scorpan sincerely did not want to stay for dinner. “Actually, I should be leaving soon. There is much to discuss later… How about this? I would like to invite your family to a party at Midnight Castle. Shall we say… one week from tonight?” Take it you monsters.

Thornwood stood and shook his hand. “That is most kind of you! I would love to attend. As would Gusto, but we have a large family. One hundred and one members. Do you wish for all of us to attend?”

“That is quite a gathering. How about only the brightest and best you have to offer? I will invite my family, my scholars, only the best of Sumaria has to offer.” Scorpan put his most convincing, deceptive smile on his face. “But I will need a number before long.”

“Forty,” Thornwood blurted out suddenly.

Both other men turned to look at him questionably. “Fourteen from my home, eighteen from Gusto’s, and seven of your brothers and sisters,” Thornwood explained.

“Both Bulbous and Creat will want to attend as well,” Gusto said quietly.

“Forty-two it is then!” Scorpan was more pleased to know how family members there were in total. He shook both their hands again. “You will attend one week from tonight. I hate to cut my visit short, but I believe if I leave now, I can make it back to the city gates by nightfall.”

“Don’t mention anything of it! You are the first visitor we have had in ages! It was a pleasure. Let me walk you to the door.” Thornwood patted Scorpan on the back and kept talking as he pulled his shoes on and stepped out the door. He felt a hand on his shoulder pulling him back before he descended the stairs.

Thornwood bellowed for the whole village to hear. “Family! This is Scorpan. He will be our esteemed guest. I want all of you to make him feel welcome whenever you see him.”

Scorpan was allowed to leave and turned south for Sumaria. Baugh would be worried sick. He said he was going to speak to the Muchick, and now he was going to return with a lot of work to do, and only a week to do it in.

Walking as fast as his long legs would carry him, he turned to see the villagers wave at him passing by. Something about them bothered him; they all had the same black hair and pudgy noses. There were deformities on many people too. A missing finger here, a peg-leg there… One woman had bandages tied around her eyes. Perhaps she was blind?

Then, just as he was out of eyesight of the village, something Gusto had said rang around in his mind like a cooking pot dropped in the kitchen in the dead of night. Stupid, brainless, dirty, incestuous, delicious animals. Scorpan stopped dead in his tracks. Did Gusto call the Grundels… when his family does the exact same thing?

nullHe took off running for home, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. He had an appointment to make with Bey the griffon.

> Past 6-The Blood of Thornwood
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The first of the guests strolled through the north gate as Scorpan gripped the railing of his bedroom balcony, watching the final touches on the Grundel memorial until the next phase tonight. It was midafternoon and he was almost done. He sent Lieutenant Greenbute and his brigade out at noon. He met with Bey this morning and had his second bag of denarii ready for his return. The banquet was ready, the Great Hall had been decorated, and his chemist had finished both of his projects. All his work sat upon Scorpan’s desk, wrapped in blue and red labels. His endless work over the past seven days would come to its climax soon and he could rest easy.

His return to the Castle last week after dark was met with a slap and kiss from Baugh. She scolded him for being gone a day longer than he said he would while her face was buried in his shoulder. Turning her head up to face him, she asked if his trip was worth it. His first words to her were that he planned on fasting all week to keep a clear head. She immediately realized all was not well—his fasts were often followed by life-changing decisions.

Scorpan sent a messenger to find Bey, then pulled Baugh into his study. He launched into his explanation of what he learned from whom and laid out his plan to her. Baugh had been stone still during his tale and completely supported his decision. He had planned using Iris’s Curse, but she convinced him to use Falaur Blue instead. Scorpan instructed his chief chemist before they went to bed to produce enough Falaur Blue and Red for his purposes.

In the morning, Bey had shown up eager to listen to what Scorpan had to say. His mercenary team was paid half their bounty an hour later and they took off to the north. The rest of the week was a flurry of reports from Bey, planning with Greenbute and Captain Ichabod, setting up a party neither he, nor his wife, nor anyone in Sumaria would ever forget. Scorpan had briefed his most trusted scholars on the materials they would be receiving and their instructions on how to wipe their memories for the day.

Nightmare Moon had stopped by sometime in the middle of his preparations. Fortunately, it was just before he was going to climb into bed and he had only a little time time to talk.

“I am so busy this week, Nightmare, it’s not funny. I would invite you to stay in the Castle, but everyone’s going to be running around, and I’m sure you don’t want to get in the way… No, I can’t tell you exactly what’s going on, but it is very important to our future. That’s all I can say… It’s not a matter of trust, it’s just… IF this backfires, I don’t want you to have anything to do with it… I’m sorry, but no. Look, you’re free to come by Monday. Things will be calmer then. And I promise we can spend time together.”

Scorpan hugged her. He only hugged Nightmare Moon to get a sarcastic joke from Baugh, but he saw his alicorn friend was genuinely hurt and wanted to see her smile. She really did have a beautiful smile.

Every city guard and reserve guard was summoned early this morning, given the equipment they would need for their tasks, and sent out under Greenbute or stationed in the Castle under Ichabod. Baugh stepped next to him on the balcony and took his hand in hers.

Scorpan pleaded with her, “Tell me I’m missing something. I misheard Gusto, the Muchick and Flutterponies lied to me, I don’t have the authority to command the Guard… anything to stop this.”

She looked him in the eye, lifted his hand to her lips, and kissed each of his fingers. “If this is wrong, you would have figured it out by now. Someone would have stopped you, my husband. You can’t let your resolve falter now. In a few hours, it will be over. And I will not leave your side tonight.”

He turned to walk away, but she held his hand tighter and pulled him close. “Scorpan,” she whispered.

His arms wrapped around her and squeezed her tight. After several shuddering breaths, he broke down, his head drooping to her shoulder, her nearly bare skin muffling his shout of anguish.

Pulling his head up straight and his hands to her shoulders, he kissed her full on the mouth. She knew he would not stop now. This would be his greatest achievement to date, and she was at his side, giving him the strength he needed. Still hand-in-hand they walked out of their bedroom and down to the kitchens.


** ** **


Scorpan addressed the crowd, “Are these all the guests? Is there ANYONE in attendance not here?”

The kitchen was packed with Sumarians dressed to the nines, either in their Guard uniforms or in suits and dresses. Most of them were indeed guards undercover—both men and women, of course. Everyone listened as if their lives depended on it, which they did.

“Every scrap of food coming from the kitchen tonight will be sprinkled with Falaur Blue. We all know the dangers, so before anything is ready, you are all to take a large dosage of Falaur Red now.”

Scorpan was the first to guzzle down his own cup of the foul-smelling juice. It was more than he would need, but in cases like this, that was not a bad thing. His stomach growled unpleasantly, protesting the first item of food since his stay in Flutter Valley. “Form a line, drink, and then proceed to your places.”

The queue stretched around the kitchen, every man and woman wrinkling their nose at the prospect of their first drink that night.

“Eat as little food as possible. We don’t need any more suspicion than we will already have. And be ready to move on my signal. It may come in the first five minutes, maybe the second or third hour. I assure you, I will give the order before midnight.”

Everyone who passed looked at Scorpan with trust and admiration. If he had a lesser woman by his side, he would have scorned them with his thoughts, but he looked them in the eye and tried to be the courageous man they believed him to be.

When the last person laid down their cup, his wife drank her serving and looked to the cooking staff. “Do you have any questions?” she asked in Scorpan’s place.

When no one spoke up, she left for the Great Hall and he went to give final orders to the guards.


** ** **


Thornwood and his family entered through the polished hickory doors into the Great Hall. The ceiling towered ten meters above his head, painted bright yellow and covered with a thin film of glass. Two chandeliers hung and divided the room into thirds, holding two hundred candles each. Many more candlesticks were placed around the Hall: in corners, along the stairways, and mounted on the walls.

Scorpan did not design Midnight Castle or its Great Hall, but merely copied the blueprints of a Castle that was never built in neighboring Cornicianum. The Uran contractor went to every length to have the Hall filled with candlelight despite the Electric Arc lamps available him. He did have Arc lamps installed, along with running water and other technical conveniences. The Grundels were sitting upon not quite a gold mine as much as a mountain of industrial metals, including platinum, with which he planned to upgrade the lights.

Red-and-green-trimmed carpets were laid out on the floor. The best Uran and Sumarian artworks were framed on the wall. Six tables were set at intervals under the balconies of the second floor, while the middle was left open for conversation. A band was setting up in a cornered-off section on the second floor. The band of bass, guitar, violin, and lute players were scheduled to play tonight, and even agreed to try their new electric instruments, which were hooked to a battery. The best cooks in the city were hired to make the most beautiful hors d’oeuvres, appetizers, and desserts for tonight. Scorpan spared no expenses for this party.

He personally counted every Witch entering the Hall and whispered to the guards at the door to lock it from the outside after all forty-two guests entered. That was the last of it; everything was in place, and their fate was sealed. All he needed to worry about was delivering a quick speech and thrusting his hand one meter, just once.

Baugh sensed his stress and stood next to him again. Taking his hand and calling for the first round of hors d’oeuvres, she led him to a pair of teenage girls flirting with an undercover guard. “Lafayette, you dog! I take my eyes off you one minute and you’re covered in ladies!”

Both of the girls giggled and introduced themselves as Jessica and Sarah. They were Gusto’s youngest daughters. Lafayette took both by their shoulders and pulled them to either side of him. “What can I say? These bitches want to by my bitches!” This elicited another round of giggles from both girls before he pulled them back into a well-lit corner.

Ten waiters emerged from the kitchen entrance, each holding a tray laden with glasses of white wine or canapés. Scorpan and Baugh strolled past them to speak with Thornwood and his wife. 

“I told you only the best of Sumaria. And did I deliver?” Scorpan asked boastfully.

“Haha! You are a man after my own heart! I am most impressed. From what I saw, your fair city is beautiful! How did you build it so fast?” Thornwood was jolly enough to convince Scorpan he had been drinking already.

“Like I said, we came here with most of our materials ready. Brick, motor, disassembled furnaces, ready-cut lumber, preparation like that.”

“Leaving you much more time to live and grow! Our alliance will be limited only by our imagination!” Thornwood picked four glasses from a passing waiter, handing one to his wife, Baugh, Scorpan and himself. “Long live Sumaria!”

Tipping his glass back, Thornwood unknowingly downed 15 mL of Falaur Blue mixed with the wine. It would take a man of his size more than that, but there would be no problem getting him there. Falaur Blue was odorless and tasted faintly of grapes. Ur was world-famous for its wines and grape delicacies, so there was nothing unusual about serving so many foods that included grapes tonight.

Neither Scorpan nor Baugh actually drank their wine, instead sealing their lips tight against the glass. Pretending to see a couple who wanted to talk to them, they stepped away and held their glasses tight. His stomach again protested, this time being teased with food.


** ** **


Sarah was finishing her story when she grabbed another cake from a passing tray. “So then this girl, right here, she cuts the rope, and the dodo goes flying!”

Lafayette and his entourage tumbled into a fit of giggles. “Only way to get it flying, right? Hahaha…”

“No, no, no. You could—“

Jessica noticed a drop of blood on her hand. Reaching up to her nose resulted in her index, middle, and ring finger being bloody, too. “Goodness, hold my drink!”

She pushed it into Lafayette’s hands and ran off to the east doors where the restrooms were, cupping her nose. Plowing through the door and leaping out of the way of one of her family members, she stepped into the ladies room to see two women she did not know leaning against the wall and talking quietly.

Turning the tap with her good hand, she washed her dirty one and splashed water over her face. Seeing one of the women step in between the door and her, she looked herself over in the mirror and pulled on her eyelids. “Uggh, stay up past midnight and you pay for it in the morning. It’s gonna take days of sleeping in late to get rid of these crows’ feet. Oh dearie, are you bleeding?” 

She quickly locked the restroom door.

“Um, yeah. I don’t know what happened.” The sink wasn’t draining fast enough, and both of Jessica’s hands now had a pink tinge to them.

“Are you one of the guests?” the woman asked, taking her head in her hands and turning it this way and that.

“Yeah. My sister and I were talking with Lafayette. Do you know him?”

The woman behind her was fumbling with something in her purse.

“Oh yes. You better get out there quick. He’s a hound dog, and he’ll tear your sister apart.” She giggled, tilting Jessica’s head up and stepping back to admire her handiwork.

“Welll, that’s the idea I had f—“

Her thought was cut off by a sudden pressure on the front of her neck and in the small of her back. Her more immediate concern was she couldn’t breathe and tried reaching for what was choking her. More than that, whatever was pushing into her was pushing her neck up with it. Fumbling around, she thought she felt the fibers of a rope.

Her vision quickly blurred and her fingers lost strength. She kept clawing at the rope, but it was too late. Her eyes darkened and her hands fell limp.

The undercover guard behind her held her knee in her back and the rope tight for five seconds longer after the girl fell limp. Then, she laid her down and checked for a pulse in her neck. 

Confirming there was none, the two women hefted the girl out the window to another guard. This one had a scar running diagonally down his face, waiting with a katana and a mule-drawn cart.

Lifting the body into the cart, he left the head hanging out the back. He brought his sword down into and clean through her bruised neck. Pushing her body into the back, he tossed her head in with the rest of her and said to the night, “That’s one.”


** ** **


Mary the Butcher had been invited to cook, but had also been asked to come out into the hall during the party. She flowed through the crowd, weaving in and out of clichés, finally coming to a stop next to Scorpan. “Scorpan, dear, when are you going to stop by my shop again? I haven’t seen you in a month.”

Baugh played along, “Mary, if you consider how much better my kebabs are, you’ll realize he’s never setting foot in your establishment again.”

“You wish!” Mary spat back good-naturedly.

Scorpan was pulled by his arm away from the rest of the crowd. Turning to look at his captor, he saw Gusto. He stopped on the other side of the Hall, a support pillar between them and the crowd. Gusto was clearly drunk… again.

“You man, what are you up to?” His speech was not slurred yet, but he was blinking too fast and unevenly to have been sipping tea all day.

“What do you mean by that?”

“What are your scholars researching?” He had one hand against the pillar and was leaning a bit too close to Scorpan’s face.

“Oh! One of the researchers, Karen I think, was saying how she wanted to studying Firefly’s Sonic Rainboom. Maybe we could use it as a jump point for interdimensional travel. Or maybe she could.”

“Who’s Firefly?” Gusto asked, turning to look at the crowd, thinking she would be among them.

“Firefly is a Pegasus pony I meet some time ago.”

“You don’t need those damn ponies.” Gusto turned his back against the pillar and looked him in the eye. “You got everything you need.”

“And what’s that?” Scorpan very much regretted this pointless drunken talk.

Gusto leaned in much too close for Scorpan’s liking. “A lover,” he said, then walked off.

Scorpan followed him back to their wives, walking past Lafayette pulling Sarah over to the stairs, hoping to sneak her into another well-lit corner. Pushing her into a wall, he planted his lips on her and tugged her hair.

Sarah broke their kiss, saying, “I should say slow down, but I don’t know when I’m leaving. Maybe I could stay the night…”

“Oh trust me, you’re staying right here.” Lafayette purred and bite into her neck, sucking for blood. She squealed and giggled again. Her eyes fluttered shut and she listened to the band playing a tune she never heard before.

“What is that he’s playing?” she asked curiously.

“Huh?”

“That man in the band, far right. I’ve never seen that instrument before.” Sarah was perplexed.

“That is a guitar. It’s a staple in Uran music. And I overheard them saying they’ve made new instruments they can amplify using electricity. They are going to revolutionize music with them.” Lafayette went back to kissing her neck and shoulder, aware she would notice her sister not returning soon. She would need something else to think about in the meantime.

On the first floor, another of the Witch guests had noticed he was bleeding; this time along a cut on his fingers that had healed earlier this morning. Wrapping his hand in his handkerchief, he pushed his way through the crowd to the restrooms.

Two minutes later, a scarred man with a katana standing by a mule-drawn cart whispered into the night, “That’s two.”

Included in a circle where the second bleeding victim had left were two witches: Bulbous and Creat. They were talking with Scorpan, who was being lectured by his personal physician—an elderly, balding man whose little remaining hair was bleach-white.

“Prince, I have not had a pregnant woman in my office for a whole year. I have spoken to other doctors and every midwife in town; there have been no pregnancies for nine months. It’s as if every woman is wearing a chastity belt.”

A mining contractor standing with them spoke his mind. “Maybe in your home. My wife can’t keep her hands off me!”

“Your wife can’t keep her hands off me either!” His younger brother and business partner pitched his two mites in, earning the back of his head a smack.

Scorpan ignored them. “Doctor, from stories I’ve heard, just about everyone in Sumaria is in good health and there is no reason to remain chaste. Why do you think it is? Are people not ready to have children in our new home?”

Dr. Wheatley replied, “I was hoping some of your infamous scholars could help me in studying this. Now, I have had patients come in complaining about not being able to conceive. They always complain about that portal that brought us here, no matter how many times I promise them it’s safe.”

“Some of my best minds are going to be busy for a while going over documents we are expecting tonight, or early in the morning. I can promise some will help you study it. My son Kevin found himself a lovely young lady recently. Where did he go?”

Create spoke up. “I heard a boy named Kevin introduce himself to my cousin. He best not have any ideas with her.” He slurred, pronouncing “have” as “half.” He had been hitting the wine too hard for his own good, like many of the Witches tonight.

Bulbous had a name to fit his figure: tall, muscular, and fatter than a tub of lard. He could have been hired as a bouncer in any of the taverns in town, especially because his patched eye and broken nose gave him a look of menace. He tried to pull Create’s hand back from a passing waiter with more wine and desserts. “You have had enough to eat. Save some for the orphans.”

“To hell with the orphans! I’m still hungry.” Create followed the waiter until he caught him, then gorged himself on apple danishes. “Hmm, you even put a hint of grape in the apple dessert. You people are nuts…” he managed through lips stuffed with apple and crust.

“I said stop it!” Bulbous slapped Create’s hands away. Create pulled back and socked him in the nose, hardly making him stumble. Bulbous checked his nose, only to see it bleeding.

“Again! Uggh…”

“… Look, sorry, man. Let’s clean you up.” Create put his hands on his shoulder and lead him to the restroom, where he was greeted by a pair of gentlemen had not seen at the party before.

“A fine evening to you two. Could you give him a hand for a bit? I should apologize to our host for making a scene.”

Create turned to leave, but was blocked by a hand laced through a brass knuckle.

Minutes later, the scarred man by a mule cart shouted out to the Grundel Memorial, “That’s five mother fuckers!”


** ** **


“Mister Scorpan! You have a visitor! Mister Scorpan!”

He looked down to see Spike tugging at his trouser leggings to get his attention, looking desperate. “Spike, I specifically said I did not want you attending this gathering.”

“I know, Mister Scorpan, but Nightmare Moon said you invited her to come by today and she’s wondering why she wasn’t invited to your party.”

Scorpan thought about the talk they had, what day had he said… MONDAY! Today was Monday! He was so focused on this day that he didn’t realize she would want to be here to see it. But he couldn’t send her away without answers again…

“Spike, tell her I’m sorry for her invitation getting lost. She is more than welcome to join us. And I want you to stay in your room for the rest of the night. Okay?”

“Yes, Sir, Mister Scorpan!” Spike answered in his whistley voice and scampered off.

Thornwood said jokingly, “I know he did not say Nightmare Moon, Princess of Equestria, wants to attend this gathering, and you did not invite her. You, Scorpan, are a god among men!”

“An honest mistake. I meant tomorrow. But I could make this work to my advantage.” Scorpan chuckled. Looking the watch chained to his belt, he saw that two hours had gone by since the front doors were locked. It may be a fire hazard, but he was certain every single Witch here was going to die this night, one way or another.

Bey and Greenbute should be close to finished with their tasks now, and this was the time he planned on doing it. With Nightmare here, he could even show her how he handles problems no one else would touch.

The polished doors opened just enough for the armor-clad alicorn to enter and smile upon the guests and guards alike. She approached Scorpan, spread her wings and bowed to him. “The Great and Mighty Scorpan has invited me to his party, and I will honor him in return,” she joked.

“Do not bow, Nightmare. Stand proud. Nightmare Moon, this is Thornwood, Patriarch of the Witches of the Volcano of Gloom. Thornwood, this is the lovely bringer of the lovely night, Nightmare Moon.”

She lifted her hoof for him to shake. Scorpan felt a need to shield her from Thornwood when he brought it to his lips for a brief kiss. “Your wife is too pretty for you,” she joked, at ease with him and his family.

Clarisse burst out in a bout of laughter. “I tell him that all the time!”

Their conversation was cut short by Sarah interrupting her grandfather. “Grandfather, Jessica is missing and no one knows where she is.” Her concern was etched on her face and in the way she tugged her hand away from Lafayette as he tried to console her.

“I told you, she’s probably snooping around the Castle. It’s big and has hidden passages. It’s designed for snooping. She’s fine,” Lafayette said.

“Grandfather, she’s be gone almost an hour! She went to the washroom with a nosebleed. I checked there and I was told she left a while ago. I just need to know she’s alright.”

“Actually,” said Scorpan, looking at his pocket watch again, “I have a good idea where she is. And I have a speech to make.”

Raising his voice, he declared to the crowd, “Attention, all Witch family members! If you could gather down here, in one group, that would be convenient.” He turned to the band, "Thank you. Your services will not be needed for the rest of the night. Leave your instruments there if you would.

Lafayette stepped back, stood up straight, and laid his hand on a tool tucked into the back of his trousers. All thirty-seven remaining family members gathered in a crowd with guards stepping out to surround them.

Nightmare Moon watched Scorpan intently. She had never known other humans lived in the Valley of Dreams, and now she could see how they worked with each other. He turned to speak quietly to her.

“I’m going to need you to stay out of this, Nightmare. I know what’s going to happen, and I want to limit the consequences as much as possible. And I don’t need anything coming between us. I am in control, so trust me and stay out of it. Can you do that?”

Scorpan had never asked for her trust before. He had, in fact, told her the fastest way to lose his trust was asking for it. He would have bolted if he were standing in her shoes, but he wasn’t. And she saw his look of finality on his face. It scared her, and told her he was right.

Nightmare nodded and steeled herself when Baugh stood next to her.

“People of Sumaria, the Witches before us today have done great things with science and magic. They came here from another world, like us. They hope to unlock the secrets of the atom. They even improved and mastered a magic they learned from others. Yes, the Smooze is their greatest accomplishment, and with it they cleared the Valley of Dreams of the Grundels.”

Gusto and Thornwood both tilted their heads. Another family member tipped his wine back to hide his face in shame.

“An entire species was eradicated in a single day. And from their own mouths, every one of them helped create the Smooze. In an act of unrepentant GENOCIDE, they became mass murderers.”

The silence of the Hall was broken by a dozen armed guards barging through the kitchen carrying hail blades and swords, passing what extra they carried to undercover guards, who did not have weapons of their own hidden away.

“There is only way to deal with such a malicious act, regardless of your homeland…” Scorpan’s hand reached inside his dress coat towards the small of his back.

“Stop! Stop this madness! Scorpan, we killed the Grundels, but not you! We would never hurt you! You’re our allies!” Thornwood pleaded, stepping towards him and raising his hands in desperation.

“You never were my ally, Thornwood. Do you know what Falaur Blue is?”

Thornwood shook his head.

“Falaur Blue is a naturally occurring blood thinner. Take just enough on a regular basis, and you will never have to worry about your cholesterol again. But be warned, it eats away at the lining of blood vessels, even arteries. Take too much at once, and it will destroy your blood platelets before bursting open your veins. Most deaths are caused from internal bleeding, but if blood pours from a skin wound from Falaur poisoning, you are already bleeding out, and it is too late."

Thornwood's face went from flushed with wine to pale.

"There is an antidote: Falaur Red. Again, a naturally occurring blood thickener. A miracle medicine that has made the worst of wounds laughably easy to patch up. Every Sumarian here has taken a double dosage of Red, because every scrap of food and wine has been doused with Blue. And, Thornwood, your nose is bleeding…”

Thornwood felt his warm, sticky fingers before he saw them, his wine glass falling to the floor and shattering.

“Why?” Thornwood finally gasped. “Take me, but let them go! I will be responsible.” He threw his hands on Scorpan’s shoulders and desperately tried not to shake him.

Scorpan lifted the man’s hands on his shoulders and put his own on them, bending him down forty-five degrees while gripping the tool he had hidden all night. “Make peace with the world! Your family is dead, and so are you!”

Twenty centimeters of steel plunged in the warm butter that was Thornwood’s murderous heart as he let out a gasp of surprise. Scorpan gave the knife a sharp twist and felt a cascade of warm fluid onto his hand before tossing the body on the floor. A collective gasp and the shriek of a woman filled the Hall.

Looking up to the rest of the family he gave the order, “Kill them all!”

They had no chance. None of them were armed or tried to flee. They backed into ta tigther circle away from their attackers all of a step before a rain of hail blades, spikes, swords and even several gunshots battered them.

Some fell to their knees, begging for mercy before their neck, shoulder, arm, and half their torso were severed from the rest of their bodies. Gusto tried to put up a fight before his spine was severed and he fell to his knees. Lafayette put a bullet through Sarah’s head, passing right through the lips he had been teasing all night.

Scorpan had been fasting all week, wondering if there was another way to protect his people from the Witches, and to make this scene easier to witness. He thought he would vomit all the water and Falaur Red he drank this week, but he was surprised at how calm his stomach was.

It was unnecessarily violent and their cries would haunt his dreams, but he could force himself to watch without guilt.

Nightmare was mortified. Taking steps backward from the bloodbath, she wanted to cover her eyes and ears. Nightmare Moon had seen terrible things serving on her throne, even worse as an immortal alicorn battling evil. She slept well only because Cerberus kept certain monsters sealed away in Tartarus; as frightening as Cerberus was to her, he was far worse to spirits. And still the worst things she had witnessed were acts of cruelty ponies inflicted on one another simply because they could.

She had hoped Scorpan and his humans were different. But what he had told her…

She trusted Scorpan. No matter what he was doing now, she knew he was right, even if she did not understand his explanation later. He would tell her why. Of course he would.

In less than a minute, it was over. None of the Witches moaned, cried, or faked death. It wasn’t enough for Scorpan, though. He asked to borrow a gladdius from a young private and had him lift up Thornwood’s body by the shoulders.

He brought the small sword down through the Witch’s neck in a clean, smooth motion, his head falling to the floor with a thud sounding at once too heavy and too light for its size. Heaving out a heavy sigh, he returned the weapon to the private.

“It’s a good weapon, boy. Take care of it. The rest of you,” he said, addressing the remaining guards, “decapitate any bodies that have not been already and bring out all body pieces to the Grundel Memorial Pit.”

Setting an example, he lifted Thornwood’s body and carried it away through the doors leading into the Hall. I wonder if I’ll ever enjoy myself in here again.

The rest of the guard followed him, carrying bodies and parts of bodies. When the grim parade was past them, Nightmare tried to ask Baugh something, but words failed her. She opened her mouth, but changed her mind before whole sentences formed themselves in her head. Shaking her head, she could not say whatever she wanted to.

Baugh did not take it as well as Nightmare and her husband. She was pale and looked sick to her stomach. “I need to lie down.”

She placed her hand on Nightmare’s withers. “Go. He needs a friend next to him tonight.”

With that, Baugh walked away and disappeared. Nightmare was left on her own to follow the death march.


** ** **


The Grundel Memorial Pit was indeed a pit in the ground, the sides lined vertically with lumber coated with the same tar pitch in a puddle at the bottom. The lumpy, sticky surface of the puddle was punctuated with body parts and other gore. The chef had insisted on throwing all the food coated with Falaur Blue and the poison itself into the pit as well. Around the pit lay a circle of rough-cut stone. A scarred man leading a pair of mules hauling a now-empty cart stood next to Scorpan and offered him a jar of coal dust and a match.

“Thank you, Daniel,” Scorpan whispered, taking them from his hands. Daniel was a refugee when his family escaped another genocide in Achaea. Moving to Sumaria was supposed to help him put those memories behind him for good. He volunteered for the most personal task tonight; he didn’t want another eighty-thousand dead souls haunting him.

“We got the pieces, and a blood bucket brigade’s gonna pick up whatever we missed. We’re waiting on you now, unless you’d rather someone else…”

“No,” Scorpan said shortly. “Just… give me a minute.”

This felt wrong to him. It was over, but why did it seem right? Should he feel this… neutral about so much death?

Looking north to the Volcano of Gloom, Scorpan saw a faint glow of orange, undoubtedly the village of the Witches being burned, he rest of their hacked and mangled carcasses tossed in the fires. The guards he’d sent were forbidden to loot at all, while the griffons were allowed to take whatever valuables they wanted, except books, papers, and anything containing magic of any kind.

Greenbute and his cohorts were to seize all such materials and bring them to be scoured for data on the Smooze. Anything related to the Smooze would be saved and stored in a place only Scorpan knew. Everything else was to be burned. If they encountered anything like the Smooze, they would have a way to handle it when the time came. Memory spells would be cast on his scholars, who would search through the papers every day to prevent them learning anything. Scorpan could not risk learning something from the Witches and turn his brightest minds into kids playing with a loaded gun.

Stalling for time, Scorpan gave a speech he had practiced this week but never intended to say.

“These… guests of ours… were mass murderers. They… annihilated Grundel Land. They could have done the same to us, but they’re gone now. After tonight, this pit will be filled in and… this plot of land will remain barren. It will serve to remind us, of what we—what we have done, and why.”

His hesitation to burn the Witches in the pit before him was broken when he heard the slow, even clop-clop of Lunar Glass slippers on stone.

Nightmare stood silently next to him. He could feel her eyes on him. Opening the jar, he sprinkled coal dust from his foot to the edge of the pit, struck the match against the stone, and dropped it. He did not stay to watch the progress of the flame grow towards the edge, nor the black pitch catch fire. He did not want to see the flames grow downward and spread in a slow, unstoppable wall. All Scorpan wanted was an emotion he should feel, but he did not even know what that was.

He thought he heard her walk behind him, but he just really needed to be alone right now.

“Did they really kill an entire race?”

Or maybe not.

“Yes.” He stopped suddenly, wanting to collapse in the middle of the road. “Queen Rosedust told me. She also told me her people were too cowardly to do anything about it.”

Nightmare knew she should say nothing. He needed to get these thoughts out. But she had to remind him of what he did. “But you did something. And it will never happen again. That’s why you had so many involved. That’s why you wanted me to stay uninvolved. That’s why you built a memorial.”

“Then, why am I so… confused, Nightmare? I should be a basket case, but I’m just upset because I’m almost happy that it's over. Where are the emotions I should feel? What are they in the first place?”

He dropped to a bench and stared at his feet. She sat awkwardly next to him and tried to think of what a pony would feel.

“… Maybe this is just it. You did what you had to. It took a lot of courage, by the way. You are braver than you give yourself credit for. I’m glad you killed one of them yourself. I don’t know if I could have done that.”

“I never killed anyone before,” he said softly. “Is it that easy? I thought it would shake me to the core and change me. But I feel… normal. And hungry.”

“I killed in wars before. Scorpan, in battle, it’s either you or them. You have a sister at home who’s in danger if they don’t die here, and now. There’s a little filly playing with a doll who should not see her mother laying in a pool of blood. There’s a timber-faller whose family could starve if he gets drafted, which means you need to end this soon, and that means keeping yourself alive and your enemies dead. Did you kill that man for your gain, or for someone else?”

“Does that matter, Nightmare? I kill—“

“It does, Scorpan! I walk on four legs, but I think being pony and being human is the same thing. He—they all were evil. You should feel no more shame than squashing a poisonous spider.”

Scorpan looked up to her and asked quietly, “And the book burning later? That will be a lot of knowledge going up in smoke.” Her look of confusion reminded him to explain about searching for knowledge of the Smooze.

“I see why you wouldn’t want anything they did to influence you. Really, Scorpan, you have done nothing wrong. All you need is a good night’s sleep to put this behind you. I promise.” She wrapped her wing around him and pulled him close. He returned her embrace.

They didn’t keep track of how long they sat there. They were interrupted by a griffon crying out and landing with a thud in front of them.

“Prince Scorpan, I have returned triumphant.”

“Bey…” Scorpan untangled himself from Nightmare’s wing and stood straight, his earlier tension and worries gone. “I take it everything is done? It’s over?”

“Our task is done. Greenbute ran into a complication he insists on discussing with you. I told him to end it now. He didn’t listen.”

“Very well. You want your money, it’s in my office.” He turned to Nightmare Moon. “You are more than welcome to stay at the Castle tonight, Princess. If you would be so kind as to walk with us there.”

“I have a better idea…” she murmured. Her blue aura of magic enveloped Scorpan, picked him off the ground, and deposited him on her back. She reared back as he gripped around her withers. “Let us fly into the night!”

She took off with a great beat of her wings and flew off to the castle, with Bey soaring behind them.

Nightmare had never expressed interest in letting Scorpan ride on her, and he never brought it up. He was nervous being up so high. Holding onto to her neck only reminded him how smooth her coat was. Before he could panic, they had landed with a clip-clop on the balcony of his office. She sank to her haunches, letting him slide off her. Scorpan looked at her incredulously. She smirked back, as if they shared a dirty little secret.

Bey’s team was paid for scouting the village for a week and stopping any Witches from escaping on foot while Greenbute’s men killed the inhabitants. Scorpan crunched the numbers in head: one Hundred and one in total—five on Daniel’s cart, thirty-seven in the Great Hall, and fifty-nine in the village. He felt a sense of lost emotions again, but shrugged it off.

Scorpan said, “Your silver. I presume first payment was in order?”

The griffon tossed it into another bag attached to his belt. “Indeed it was. Pleasure doing business with you. I’ll be on my way.” With that, Bey turned and took off into the night.

Nightmare looked at Scorpan. “I hope Greenbute’s situation isn’t complicated.”

“Me too. Do you want to head to your room for the night or stay and watch this?”

“I want to see how Princes Scorpan handles complications. Tell me, do you have anything to drink that is not poisoned?”

“Twenty-seven proof wine. So… no.”

They giggled as he opened a bottle of wine to split. He had earned an end to his fast, and he planned on feasting like a king in Flutter Valley the next day.

It was not long before a runner knocked on the office door, announcing that Greenbute had returned with three prisoners awaiting their sentences.

“Send him in with them.” Scorpan said. Nightmare looked at him, as curious as he was.

Greenbute was a tall, very slender man. Sometimes Scorpan wondered how he could fight in drills without snapping. He walked into the office, tugging on a rope wrapped around the hands of  a short, plump, woman, a tall, skinny girl, and a short, outright fat girl, all very ugly. The girls could not have been more than ten or eleven years old.

“My Prince, these three Witches surrendered to us shortly before our raid.”

Scorpan blinked. He could not understand why they were here. “Were your orders not to allow any to live, Greenbute? Were you not to kill every Witch you came across, regardless of age, infirm, or requests for mercy?”

“Yes sir. I was.” Greenbute knew this would be a tough sell and had practiced standing up for his actions.

“Then why are there three Witches befouling my office with their breath?”

“Sir, they surrendered to us before the raid began. They told us where some would be hiding if the alarm was raised. They warned us of traps in a few houses, possibly saving lives. They also said where to find pages of magic we would have missed and burned otherwise. I said I would not kill them and left their fate to you.”

Scorpan sank back into his chair and folded his hands across his face, thinking of the gun in one of his drawers. “Woman, why would you surrender to Greenbute? What do you want?” Why am I wasting my time with this?

The woman awkwardly sank to her knees and spoke to the floor. “My lord, my name is Hidea. My children were misbehaving, so I was punishing them when we heard your men. I did not want to die, or my daughters. So, we told them anything they asked.” Her voice was fingernails on a chalkboard.

“Did you participate in the creation of the Smooze at all?”

“The—the Smooze? What’s that—“

“ANSWER ME!”

His explosion shook the whole office to attention. Scorpan didn’t know when, but he had leapt to his feet and pulled a knife from the back of his trousers—the same knife he killed Thornwood with. He held it to the throat of the tall, skinny, ten-year-old girl before the woman complied.

“No! We didn’t! I swear! Both my girls were ill when the Smooze was made. I was taking care of them. Please, you have to believe me. They were on their deathbeds. We didn’t do it!” Her eyes swam with tears and she choked on her words.

Scorpan was disgusted with his sense of disappointment later, but right now, he was just furious at her. At Greenbute. At himself for not ending it right then. It would have been so very easy to just pull the blade through her skin...

Pulling his knife away from the girl and walking to his desk was the greatest effort he ever exerted in his life. Pulling himself together, he tried to think of Baugh. Her strong hands caressing his shoulders, her red hair tickling his nose, her pheromones driving his animal instincts. She had calmed him down so often…

“You will be free to go. Go back to whatever is left of your village. You will surrender any and all knowledge of the Smooze. Neither you nor your children will ever leave the Volcano of Gloom again. If you break any terms of this agreement, you, and your children’s lives are forfeit. Do I make myself clear?” He droned as a teacher reciting a lecture he gave three times today, his voice as devoid of emotion as cold steel.

Hidea burst into tears but held his eye contact. “Bless you, lord! Bl—“

“Are. We. Clear?”

“… Yes.”

“Get the hell out of my office before I change my mind!” he snapped. Turning to his Leftenent,  he said, “Greenbute will follow you back to your village and take everything you have for him. As for you, Greenbute, if they threaten you in any way, you are authorized to kill them.”

Greenbute saluted, released his men from their duty for the night, cut the Witches’ bindings, and shoved them out the door. Scorpan stayed in his chair, seething at… everything his mind settled on. Nightmare sipped her wine before mentioning the elephant in the room.

“She’s lying to you.”

“I know.”

Silence.

“You should have tossed her off the balcony.” She gestured with a wing.

“Yes…”

“Why?”

“Greenbute said she saved lives. She helped him and me out. I needed to give her a chance to continue a life of virtue.”

“Is that the human idea of justice? Mercy for the guilty?”

“Nightmare, I know she will turn on us. But… I gave her my word. I will not break it until she breaks hers. Then I will break her. And her daughters.”

Nightmare climbed to her hooves, standing tall and proud in all her glory. She declared as she walked back towards the balcony, “If you won’t do it tonight, then I will!”

Scorpan did not watch her go but called, “I’m not standing in your way.” He was thinking about the victory breakfast he would not be able to enjoy in Flutter Valley tomorrow. Maybe he might settle for a normal breakfast of toast and oatmeal.

Nightmare took to the sky, climbing a hundred meters over the city, combing for Greenbute and her entourage. She spotted them just past the city gates. She had just the spell to kill the Witches and leave Greenbute unharmed if she shot it from here. Were she the one on the ground, there was no limit to what she could do to them.

Stalking the quad from the sky, Nightmare thought about the look of loss and hopelessness on Scorpan’s face when he stopped himself from killing the girl earlier.

In the end, Nightmare stayed in a guest room of the Castle, mentally pummeling herself for her inaction.
> Present 5-Questions
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Twilight gazed out on the field from the third-story balcony. She saw brush peppered by tall, thick trees. She guessed a forest fire had torn through the field a year ago; most of the standing trees had branches at their tops, but smaller ones were sprouting farther down. She heard the river—or, judging by the stone shoring up the banks, it could be a canal churning away below her. The bushes grew to the canal’s edge, completing her ideal garden: unattended, wild, and could not be claimed by any pony. She closed her eyes and listened to the canal run before remembering she had to search for clues.

This castle was as mysterious as the one in the Everfree Forest, except it wasn’t overrun like that was. This room could have been vacated this morning. The windows were shut and well oiled. The scrolls on the desk were dry and crinkled cheerfully upon her touch. The closet held dozens of books. And, most notably, everything was written in Old Equestrian Script. 

That bothered her more than a door next to the closet. She discovered a flight of spiral stairs leading up to another door, and breathed a sigh of disappointment. It appeared to be a study with mostly empty bookshelves, a fireplace, and more comfortable chairs.

Trotting back to the first office, she lifted a scroll off the desk and magically broke the seal, taking great care to unfurl it. Telekinetically lifting the other scrolls and laying them in an organized stack in the corner, she tried reading the ancient text.

Celestia taught her a great deal about law and old writing. It took her a while, but Twilight realized she was looking at a receipt to a land deal between the City of Sumaria and “Mr. and Mrs. Devon Jarl”. The deed looked like it recorded the price, date, and signatures of a clerk and the couple.

It struck her as odd that such a mundane document would be sealed like a letter. Twilight noticed how all the hoof/mouth writing was neat, precise, and consistent. Clearly, unicorns had written the deed, but she did not understand the three inky blotches by the signatures. Resealing it and setting it aside, she picked up another scroll and tried to decipher it.

She felt the hours roll by, noting the shadows shifting from midday to evening. She had come across other legal documents. Many were filled with letters she didn’t recognize and words that meant nothing to her. A few she understood. She recognized Script, but it wasn’t easy to read. 

Reaching for another one, she heard Lyra calling her name. “I’m in here!”

Twilight looked to the next scroll and noticed two seals: one closed and the other broken. It was the imprint of the broken one that dropped her jaw and drove her to the brink of madness.

“Find anything interesting?” Lyra asked from the door to the hall. She grinned like a shark at the sight of the door next to the closet Twilight had left open. She gasped. “What have we here? A secret passageway?”

Lyra heading up the stairs snapped Twilight from her stupor. She recognized that seal; she had received many letters bearing it before. The seal was made from a bronze-colored wax and showed the sun with eight rays swirling in a clockwise rotation, then twisting back as they reached their end. It was the seal of Princess Celestia.

Taking a deep breath, she snapped open the other seal and unrolled the scroll. It looked like Celestia’s writing, but it was still a bit shaky, as if she still had to perfect Script. It looked like a thank-you letter, short and simple. Twilight caught the name ‘Equestria,’ which was written in a style similar to modern script. And it mentioned 'taking care of my sister,’ but she could not read context. Perhaps it was just another of many letters sent between the Princess and this castle.

But that didn’t make much sense. There was a castle, and presumably a city out here the Princess spoke with regularly, but Celestia made no mention of it. What’s more was… Where was this city in the first place? She read nothing about it, ever in Equestrian or foreign history books. Was it possible the castle was moved here from somewhere else, and Sumaria changed its name?

Moved from where? Changed to what? And why are there humans in their art?

“Twilight! You ate your words before! Come do it again!”

She turned to see Lyra standing in front of the hidden staircase, wagging her tail and smiling like a foal on Hearth’s Warming Day. She dashed back up to the office, letting Twilight follow behind. 

Ascending the steep incline, Twilight thought sticking to the edge would be easiest until she brushed her wing against the rough stone. Stepping into the study, she saw Lyra going out the open door to her right, across the hallway, and into a bedroom. She waved her over and disappeared deeper in the room.

The bed reminded her of her own back in the library with its worn mattress and hoof-carved headboard. However, it sat much farther off the floor than her own, and it was bigger. She didn’t have much time to admire it, since Lyra was in the washroom, still waving her over. 

“Here, you gotta see this!”

Stepping into the room, Twilight was pleased. It had a tub, toilet, and sink. She hadn’t washed her hooves properly since Appleoosa. Magical sanitation only felt right so many times.

”This is good Lyra. I need a bath tonight before bed.” It had been a looong time since she slept in a real bed, too.

“Twilight, listen to this!” Lyra pulled a chain hanging down next to the toilet seat and heard the familiar rushing sound of water before it gurgled and filled the bowl again. “Did you hear that? Running water! In a thousand-year-old castle! We’ve struck gold here—“

Twilight covered Lyra’s mouth with a hoof. “No. We don’t know how old this place is.”

Lyra stepped back and said, “I do. It was around before Luna’s Eclipse, and I can prove it! Out here, Twilight.”

Lyra backed into the bedroom again and pointed to the nightstand next to the window. On it sat a picture frame. Twilight wrapped it in her magic and levitated it towards her, frowning at what it could be. And I thought Celestia’s seal was… wrong being here.

Somehow through her shock, she held the picture in her magic until Lyra wrenched it from her and lay it on the bed. “Look familiar? I gotta say, he IS a looker. I wonder… how did they meet? Is she as black as she’s painted?”

Lyra had smirked at Twilight too often in the past week, but she didn’t see it this time. The picture of the happy couple was burned into her memory: an impossible couple. A human—the same one they saw in the painting of husband and wife in the entrance hall—had a photograph of himself with someone who was not a human. Twilight recognized her right away. She had not changed a bit during her banishment.

Twilight crept to the bed and looked closer at the black-and-white photo. A male human sat in a chair and held the right front hoof of an alicorn. Her mane floated in a breeze the same as it did when Twilight last saw her, but she smiled as if she was genuinely happy. Her fangs looked innocent in her herbivorous mouth of hers. She had draped a wing over his back and sat on her haunches. She had never seen Princess Luna look as serene as Nightmare Moon did in this moment.

Twilight was lost in the picture and Lyra could not snap her out of it. Saying her name and waving a hoof in her face didn’t work, so she resorted to drastic measures. “Twilight, your cane’s been stolen!”

She tried to hold back her giggles as Twilight dropped the picture onto the bed and looked around. “My cane? MY CANE!”

“Welcome back. What happened? You zoned out pretty bad. You alright?”

“Lyra...” Twilight looked at the picture again, mouth slightly agape, as confused as ever. “This isn’t right. She had no friends. No one loved her, no one cared, but she looks so happy.”

“She looks in love to me. And how can you say no to that face? He’s got the cutest, tiny muzzle…” Her voice gained pitch as she went on.

“But this is wrong. It’s not what happened! I found a letter from Celestia just downstairs, okay? She was saying something about taking care of her sister, and if it was to this human...” She shook her head and repositioned her hoof for balance. “If it was to this human, he failed. She tried bringing about eternal night. He didn’t take care of her. Or, even if he did, why are humans not in the history books?”

Twilight started pacing around the room. “Humans? A castle out here? A happy, Faust-forbidden human loved Nightmare Moon! Lyra, this is insane! This can’t exist! Nothing here adds up! Celestia would tell me things like this. I trust her. Wouldn’t she trust me? If she knows something about history is wrong and she doesn’t fix it, doees that mean she’s allowing it to be rewritten? I trust her!  We c—“

She was silenced by Lyra’s hoof, who refused to back away. “While you were reading someone else’s mail, I found the kitchens and pantries. There might be some booze down there, so let’s go see if we can get hammered. Worry about this in the morning, okay?”

Twilight composed herself, nodded, and let Lyra lead the way. The kitchens were beyond a grand ballroom and through a set of double doors.

Coal-burning stoves and ice boxes lined opposite walls with countertops filling the spaces in between. Twilight figured humans being able to stand on two legs needed less maneuvering room. She found it very claustrophobic and tried not to wiggle her rump in the aisles. Lyra led her to the back and opened a door with her hoof to another stairwell dropping beneath the ground.

She noticed a sharp temperature drop, lit her horn, and looked around the pantry. There were few cobwebs, little dust, and no signs of structural instability. “How long has this place been abandoned, Lyra? The scrolls I found were sitting on a desk. They looked and sounded fresh.” 

Lyra turned a corner and gasped. “What?” Twilight exclaimed. “What did you find?”

Lyra was on her hindlegs and leaning her forelegs against a barrel almost as wide as she was tall, which was lying on its side. She had her back to Twilight. She kissed the barrel and started cooing at it. “Who’s a big boy? You! You’re momma’s big boy! And momma’s gonna suckle you dry!”

Twilight sighed and rolled her eyes hard enough for them to fall out of her head. “I’m gonna levitate this upstairs, Lyra. You get some glasses and we can drink. We’re eating the grass for dinner, though.”


** ** **


They ate in the study across from the bedroom, lighting the room with her glow stick. Lyra had picked enough grass for both of them, and Twilight binged herself on cranberry wine. She insisted they save their canned food for the return journey and eat grass until they left again. Lyra still didn’t want anypony to know exactly where they were or what they were doing, but Twilight talked her into sending a “we’re still alive and well” note back to Ponyville.

Despite her over-dramatic reaction to a barrel of wine, Lyra had a few glasses and stuck to their refilling canteens of water. Twilight at some point burst in song:

What is this thing in my mouth?
It’s slippery and it’s slimy,
Travelling down my slender, virgin-pink esophagus.
Some black chick’s tongue.
It’s such a new sensation.

Twilight changed her pitch every so often, Lyra guessed it was to mimic a different voice.

I got a mayonnaise momma on my licking hole… oh yeah, Foxxy’s gettin’ some.
It’s really quite thrilling…
That’s right now, you know…
I think I taste a filling…
And it’s solid gold.

I never dreamed I’d be so willing… to let myself go…
Tell me about it, I’m totally frenchin’ a racist ho!
This black chick’s tongue. What a wonderful feeling.
Damn, where’d dis bitch get her earrings?
I’ve never had so much fun…
As with this black… chick’s… tooongue.

Falling to her haunches, Twilight held her empty glass and declared to the ceiling, “That is a song from one of my past lives, and it is the best song ever! I don’t know what a black chick is. Maybe Fluttershy will know!”

Lyra, having grown much less comfortable during her song, was looking away. “Yeah… So… What did you learn from those letters you read earlier?”

Twilight settled onto her back and spread her wings out,  holding her glass with a hoof. “It’s all in Script. You read Script, Lyra? ‘Cause I don’t.”

“I have a book to help translate Script. I thought you would have asked about it. Do you know what else I have?”

Twilight stared at her before answering, “Sobriety!”

Lyra sighed. “Yes. I also have toothbrushes, trowels, and a small mesh screen. I’ve been going around taking pictures of everything. You really shouldn’t have touched anything in the office, you know that! Those were old, old letters, and you broke the seals!”

Twilight swayed her hooves, “Yeah, well, you… hic!... opened the wine!”

“I did, and there’s much more where that came from. So, no more touching things until we photograph or document it, alright?”

“Alright, Lyra. Don’t have to baby me.”

"When we wake up, I'll finish taking pictures, and you translate for letters after photographing them." She laid her second camera in front of Twilight. "Got it?"

Lyra collected her glow stick, went across the hall to lay on the already disturbed-bed, and closed her eyes. They had a big day tomorrow.
> Past 7-Funeral for a Friend
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Today’s a miserable day for a funeral, Nightmare Moon thought as she laid on her belly on the balcony. She figured just about any day would be miserable, but the weather today was the worst. Spring was just around the corner. The snow and ice were melting, the sun was out longer, and the weather was warmer, but it still dipped below freezing at night.

The grave dug yesterday had a sheet of ice coating the inside walls and crystallized mud at the bottom. Millimeter-long stalagmites grew up from a pockmarked brown puddle, frozen even before the sun set last night.

She looked in it this morning, surprised at how smooth it was dug considering the simple shovel used and ground water slowly seeping in. The cemetery would be a thin layer of snow sitting atop a mud field by the time the casket passed the iron gates.

Nightmare Moon had sent a letter to her sister saying she would be returning home tonight. It had been two weeks since they had seen each other and Celestia was worried. But Nightmare simply could not leave Midnight Castle yet; her friend needed her.


** ** **


She stopped by fourteen days ago with a net and a ground pick. Scorpan had promised to take her ice fishing sometime and she wanted to do it before spring arrived. Upon entering the castle, she knew something was wrong; the guard standing at the gate warned her Scorpan probably would not have time for her. She wandered through the corridors, looking for her only friend before finally looking in his bedroom, or, rather, knocking on the door.

The study door behind her opened up to an unshaven Scorpan with a hairbrush in his hand. 

“Oh, Nightmare. It’s good to see you. Come, we’re in here.” He was clearly distracted and looked more to her hooves than face. He ushered her into the study with Baugh, who slouched in a chair and looked like she had put on twice as many clothes as normal.

She smiled brightly with Nightmare’s entrance, taking a pillow off the nearby couch and offered it to her. Setting herself down on her haunches, Nightmare noticed how Scorpan nervously fiddled with a tray of food to serve her soup. The fireplace was crackling merrily and the room seemed a tad warm for winter.

“I’m sorry about this, but Baugh has fallen ill and—“

“It’s nothing,” Baugh said, waving her hand. “Winter’s giving me a final sniffle before she leaves. He’s making a big deal out of nothing.” She waved her hand at her husband.

Scorpan cleared his throat. “I’m fulfilling my vow of ‘Sickness and Health.’ There’s not much of a challenge in Health, so I’m taking Sickness seriously.”

Baugh giggled and asked about Nightmare’s recent activity. “Well, I was hoping your husband could take me ice fishing—“

He interrupted her. “Ice fishing! I did say I would do that, didn’t I? Hmm… Nightmare, I’m sorry, but this isn’t a good time for me at all. Maybe next week—“

“You stop right there, Scorpan! You made a promise to this lady and you will keep it. Go off, have fun. I’ll be here, and I’ll be back on my feet in a day or two.” Baugh smiled lovingly and stroked his hands when he stepped next to her.

“Don’t be silly, I’ll be fine, and if I need help, Kevin can get off his lazy backside and stoke the fire. Really.” Baugh coughed. “Go.”

Nightmare saw him frown when she held him, and it stayed on his face when he answered, “Okay. For you.”

After leaning down to kiss her lips, he tossed another log onto the fire and called Nightmare to follow him to his closet.


** ** **


Ice fishing was more exciting than normal fishing, Nightmare decided. Scorpan had bundled himself up tight. He donned thick, waterproof boots, long johns—she laughed at harder at them than she should have—a flannel shirt and an extra-insulated jacket, woolen gloves, and a hat to complete his outfit all before he showed her the tools they used. He threw a saddle pack over her back, hefted the drill over his shoulder, and put a hammer in one of his jacket pockets.

She mentioned they could fly, but he insisted on walking the kilometer and a half down the river to a pond it flowed into. If she really wanted to use magic, she could point out thin spots in the ice. It was hard to imagine that so much life laid under the thick and falling blanket of snow, just waiting to awaken a few weeks from now. Even more surprising was the ice being thick enough to hold a man as big as Scorpan, all 1.8 meters of him.

He laughed as he stepped out onto the ice, daring it to break. Walking a little ways, he stopped, placed the drill face down on the ice, pulled his arm back and, swung the hammer on top of it. Pong!

Swinging again, Nightmare saw the drill tip dig deeper until the screw blades stopped it from going any further. Grunting with effort, he put all his weight on the drill and gave it a sharp twist. Every quarter turn allowed it to dig deeper into the frozen surface. Nightmare finally saw the genius of such a simple tool.

“Who taught you to ice fish?” she inquired, trying to break the uncomfortable silence that followed them since leaving the Castle.

Scorpan was setting up a line. He had already showed Nightmare how to bait a hook last summer. “My grandfather. He’d take my brother and I out and we would sit and talk about… magic, science, the world, girls. Girls were our favorite subject, boys and all.” He fell silent, but continued working.

With the trap set up, he picked the drill and hammer off the ground and carried them to a thin patch of ice Nightmare had found. “With thin ice, the water’s warmer and fish are sure to flock here. We could get a bite before we finish setting the other traps.”

Letting her hammer the drill in this time, he watched her smile gleefully when she struck it. Pong!

Nightmare tried setting up the next two traps amongst many failures and a premature flag to Scorpan’s face. Taking a break and lying on the ice, she on her belly and him on his back, she asked what was bothering him.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve not been terribly talkative today. Are you worried about Baugh? She said she would be fine.”

He shuffled around and lay on his side, his back turned to her. She thought she heard him sniffle a tear.

“She’s not fine,” he said slowly. “I’m not fine. No one is fine.” He sat up, pulled his knees to his chest, and buried his head in them.

“I hired a team of researchers to look into Dr. Wheatley’s claims. He has seen no pregnancies since we moved here nearly two years ago. They took a census of the whole city; not one child here is younger than eighteen months old. The babies born here were conceived in Ur. And many, many couples have said they’ve tried to have children.”

He started rocking back and forth, tapping his feet to push himself. He sniffled more.

“They… they think the magic of the land is to blame. They put an egg and sperm in a test tube… They met, but nothing happened. They just sat there…”

She heard him holding back a dam of tears. She climbed to her hooves and sat down next to him, draping a wing over his shoulder.

“The same magic that gives us good grass, big, healthy crops… it’s sterilizing us.” He buried his head in his knees again, finally breaking and letting out a sob.

“And… they don’t know what to do. We can’t go back to Ur! We don’t know what it’s like! It could be a warzone. They told my wife and I a few nights ago, and… Baugh… she just collapsed. It was like a seizure.” Tears freely rolled down his face, threatening to fall to his forearms.

“She… Baugh says she’s fine but… She’s never been a strong woman. Yes, in mind and spirit, but not her body.  Nightmare, I’m worried. I’m scared. I don’t want her to die, but I think this… this news might have been too much for her.”

He buried his face in her withers and bawled. “I don’t want to lose her!”

He was a five-year-old boy who just realized his mother wasn’t waking up anymore. He pounded the ice until he bruised his hand, and kept striking it. Nightmare wrapped both wings around him to shield him from the cold wind picking up.

The sky was getting darker and she would have to raise the moon before long when she looked up. She didn’t remember when, but she had packed up the remaining traps, bait, line, and Scorpan’s hammer into her saddle pack. She levitated the drill in front of her and then him onto her back when he fell forward, wrapped his arms around her withers and his legs around her belly.

She trotted back to the Castle, her hooves crunching every step she took. The wind began to pick up even more as the sky finally blackened to darkness. She then raised her moon.

Her steps were slow and soothing. She felt his legs loosen after a while, and his sobs eased, but his hot tears on the back of her neck did not. She stopped a hundred meters outside the Castle gates and enjoyed the peaceful silence.

Nightmare sighed deeply. She never felt this at peace in Everfree Valley. He sat up straight and grabbed the drill from her telekinetic grasp, laying it across his lap. “What am I going to do, Nightmare?”

His voice was a snowflake landing on her ear. “If she dies… she is my whole life. She’s the most wonderful woman I have ever known. I won’t even let Spike care for her because… I’m so certain she will die. I want her to… Am I killing her by—“

Nightmare cut him off by dropping her haunches and letting him slide off. Turning on him, she nearly snarled, “You are caring for you sick wife, Scorpan. You can only make her better. If you are only going to doubt yourself, you have no place being near her.”

Scorpan stood his ground, but knew she was right. Scowling, he hefted his drill over his shoulder again and stormed off to care for his wife.


** ** **


Nightmare was allowed to sleep in one of the guests rooms that night. Baugh’s insistence. 

Putting herself into a trance, she became the Phantom she used to Dream Walk. Doors, walls, even distance was no match for the Phantom.

The Phantom glided out of her room effortlessly and stalked down the halls that did not limit her. The room of a husband and wife called out to her; a great deal of worry and fear plagued their dormant minds.

Settling in her dream, the Phantom saw a redhead woman carrying a tray of food and a box of chalk for a man at a chalkboard. Numerical and magical equations covered not just this board, but dozens of others pushed to the side. He wore ragged clothes, walked with a limp,and his rolled-up sleeves were covered with dust.

Setting her tray down on a nearby table, the woman didn’t speak, simply staring at the man longingly. The Phantom did what she could to give pleasant dreams, and this one could be so good. She felt the love between the two of them. All he needed to do was turn to face her.

The Phantom pushed the other chalkboards and brought the man closer to his wife as he lowered his chalk piece. She did not step any closer, but put her arms around him and smiled. There was no pain on her face, no sorrow, just the smile of the content. Her husband’s dream was much more troubled.

He was naked, scared, and in a room dominated by a single, dull cream color. He lifted a lamp from a table, only to have it snap in half when he moved it. Its handle was melting from his body temperature alone.

He was already hyperventilating and reached for a window shutter. Half the curtain tumbled to his feet, melting as it contacted the floor. Leaping for the door, he left his shoes behind, stuck under the remains of the curtain and in the melting wax floor.

The doorknob snapped off in his hands too, but the door remained shut. Pounding and slamming his shoulder against it covered him in the par-melted wax. The book congealed into a single mass, but his hands sank halfway through it before he managed to pull them to the floor and tip the shelf over.

Watching him try to maneuver it to face the door and allow him to batter his way out hurt. The Phantom was about to banish everything and speak directly to him, when another voice caught his attention.

A woman placed her hand on his shoulder and spoke his name. He turned around to embrace her, but his grip split her as well. She looked as solid as him, but cracked in half like any other piece of wax in this awful dream.

The Phantom hesitated and watched the man’s grief continue. Everything he had accumulated on his hands, shoulder, and stocking-feet was stiffening, locking his fingers and toes in place and restricting his foot and shoulder movements.

The Phantom could not watch anymore. With a single cry, she banished the dream and the man collapsed to his knees. She went to comfort him. She knew most ponies and people did not remember their dreams, but carried the emotions with them throughout the remainder of the night.

She laid her hooves upon his shoulders and whispered softly into his ear, “It’s not real. But I am.” The man turned around and embraced her as he could not do to his wife.

The Phantom put the man into a dreamless state, what she called “The Sweet Sleep of the Damned.” He would be anxious no more tonight, and would actually awaken refreshed and perhaps even hopeful.

The Phantom’s work was done with these two. They would sleep easy tonight. The Phantom moved about the Castle, looking for other troubled dreams.

A cook in the servant’s quarters was asleep, but still thought she was awake. She was worrying about getting enough sleep before she needed to be up to prepare breakfast. The Phantom changed her dream to one of her lying in her lover’s arms. With that, she relaxed and stopped fidgeting in her sleep.

Beyond the walls of the Castle was the home of a tanner. His dreams filled with his work. She was disgusted with the smell and working with the skins of animals who could talk (at least Equestrian cows could), but she saw nothing to ease here. She moved on to the building next door, which she supposed was his workshop.

A child imagined she was being eaten by a spider as punishment for an unmentioned act. She was caught by its claws and half her body was trapped its mouth.

“Are you going to be a good girl?” it asked before the Phantom warped the spider into a loving parent. The girl immediately noticed the difference, but still seemed paralyzed with fear. The Phantom could not see the parent’s, face but did hear the girl shriek and run away.

The parent—she could not even tell if it was a mother or father—chased the young girl with a bullwhip. The Phantom saw that its end has bits of glass and iron stitched into it, not designed to frighten cattle but hurt whoever it struck. Banishing the pursuer, the Phantom flew over to the little girl, who collapsed and revealed herself to her.

“I must apologize. I turned one monster into another. Please forgive me.” Though the Phantom spoke gently to the girl, she covered her face with her hands and shuddered. “Child, you have nothing more to fear. Stand. This is your world, to do with as you wish.”

The girl looked to the Phantom and nearly cried. Opening her mouth to speak, she struggled with her words. “I… I don’t want to… see them again.” She sniffled and rubbed her eyes.

“Did they hurt you as much as you fear?”

“Yes… But they’re gone now. They’re back in Ur.”

The Phantom wrapped the girl in her wing and pulled her close. “Do you live in a children’s home?”

“Yes. I don’t like it, but they teach me, they feed me. No one scares me.”

The Phantom let go of her. “That is good to hear. If you’ll excuse me, I must be off.”

Swooping out of the girl’s dream, she looked around and saw that she was indeed in an orphanage. A soft, sweet melody from her past rang through her ears and came from her mouth. Singing to the children in their dreams, she calmed some and gave others even more peace. 

Moving on to the rest of the town, the Phantom explored and eased the dreams of other denizens, continuing to sing to herself.


** ** **


Nightmare snapped her eyes open with a start when a knock sounded on her door. Being an immortal alicorn meant she needed little sleep, but catching a few Z’s after a night of Dream Walking was relaxing.

Snapping her head to attention, she heard the whistle voice of a baby dragon from behind the door. “Miss Nightmare, do you want breakfast?”

Opening the door, a pale-purple dragon in a flower-printed apron backed his way into the room. He carried a veggie omelet. Nightmare supposed the cook had indeed gotten enough sleep last night. “Thank you, Spike.”

“And Baugh wants you to join her in the study if you have time.” With that, he waddled out to the study himself.

The flurry yesterday had picked up to a full-blown storm now. It was a miracle the howling wind didn’t wake her from her trance or sleep. The clear, thick glass kept the cold at bay, but the sight of snow always made her shiver in delight.

The study was a floor up from her guest room. She entered to see Baugh sitting in the same chair she was yesterday, her hair down, and Scorpan brushing it. “Well, well, you certainly keep him on a short leash, Baugh.”

“I was asking him if he brushed his teeth today. Several jokes late, this happened.” Baugh explained this as if it was a natural occurrence. She was bundled up in more clothing today as well.

“I need to get back to work anyway. Taggart’s talking about a rail line all the way to Equestria. He and I have a lot to discuss.” Scorpan leaned down to kiss her forehead.

Nightmare pulled a cushion off the couch and sat herself down. Scorpan said, “I suppose you two will be busy gossiping, braiding each other’s hair, talking about boys and everything else I know girls don’t do at slumber parties?”

“Actually, I was hoping to get you behind Nightmare’s tail, so that will be a topic sure to come up,” Baugh said casually.

Nightmare squeaked, blushed, and lowered her head while Scorpan laughed, opened a door in the wall, and ascended the spiral staircase behind it.

Baugh turned to her guest. “Good morning, Nightmare. Did you sleep well?”

“When I did get to sleep, it was restful, yes.”

“How was your ice fishing trip?” Baugh asked somberly. “He didn’t say a word when you got home, not until this morning, and I’m worried.”

Nightmare sighed. “Your husband is convinced you… aren’t going to recover from this illness. I’m not sure how long we were gone, but most of the time he was weeping. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen someone that broken up. He’s also worried about your people being sterile. I didn’t catch everything. He’s more concerned about you, but what’s happening?”

Baugh slouched in her seat and closed her eyes. “Men can’t produce healthy sperm, and women can’t produce healthy eggs. Until both problems are solved, no one can have babies. Scorpan will work hard to solve it as soon as he’s done worrying about me. I sent him off yesterday hoping to distract him for a while, but I knew it wouldn’t work. Oh well.”

Reaching under the cushion she sat on, Baugh pulled out a needlepoint stitch project she had been working on and threaded her needle. “Actually I’m glad you are here. I’m wondering… How long will you be able to stay at Midnight Castle?”

“Actually, I was planning on going home soon. You don’t need me—“

“Could you stay longer? Until I feel healthy again? He’s… not going to be well either, and he needs a friend.”

Nightmare shifted uncomfortably upon her cushion. “I couldn’t impose on you. And my sister is expecting me back—“

“Nonsense. You are our guest, or, more specifically, my guest. And tell your sister you’re taking a vacation. Nightmare, when was the last time you took a week off from work?”

Nightmare Moon had not actually taken a vacation since her coronation. The idea of taking time away from work was silly to her. As a Princess, she had to protect the right of her citizens, and it was not a task she could put off. Obviously, she took nights and days off now and then, but she couldn’t tell her constituents she would be unavailable for a week.

“I—I couldn’t do that, Baugh. I’m not sure how humans do things, but I simply can’t.” Nightmare was flustered and pawed at the floor. “I would like to spend more time here, but… will you get well soon?”

Baugh grinned through her chattering teeth. “Soon enough, Nightmare. We’ll take good care of you.”

Nightmare grinned. “This could be very good. I will write to my sister, asking her to take my court appointments. And I won’t even tell her how long I’m gone! Ha! Take that, Tia.”

Summoning a sheet of paper and a pencil, she wrote out the situation to Celestia. Baugh stared at the unique writing style in confusion. 

“Is that Equestrian text?”

“Yes it is. Writing is a rare skill. Scribes are some of the most valuable ponies in any endeavor.” She did not look up from her paper. “Why do you ask? Is it so different from your own?”

Baugh let out an indignant sigh. “Yes! You’re using borderline hieroglyphs! What exactly are you saying? Word-for-word.”

“I am writing key points and getting a message across to the reader. That is writing.”

“No, Nightmare, that is not writing.” Baugh paused for a minute, then put away her needle point. “Finish your letter and I will show you how to write. Like a proper scribe.” Standing up, she carefully made her way to the desk and fished out more paper and additional pencils.

Nightmare finished her letter, cast a spell on it, and tossed it in the fireplace. The paper curled on itself, caught fire, and turned into green, glittering smoke before dissipating. Baugh sat down on the floor in front of the coffee table and laid out her items before calling Nightmare to sit beside her.

“We have an alphabet—twenty-six characters that each have a unique name, and each make a unique sound based on how they are used. These characters, or letters when combined in certain ways, make up every word of our spoken language.” She drew an “A” on the first sheet of paper. “This is the letter ‘A’. It makes the ‘ah’ sound…”

Nightmare followed with utmost attention and fascination until their lesson ended at noon, by which time she had made considerable progress for her first four hours of study.


** ** **


Nightmare Moon had fallen into a pleasant routine over the next week. Scorpan would work during the morning while Baugh taught her Uran text. When Baugh napped during the afternoon, she would find something to distract Scorpan from his problems.

He always sat down at the dinner table with a smile on his face, due in no small part to being flanked by his two favorite ladies. The snowstorm that started her first day in the Castle was the last one of the season, and they had fun playing like children. After packing up their ice fishing equipment, they went sledding, ice skating. Scorpan helped teach her to read. Her favorite book was a children’s book about the Boy King’s funeral. Kevin and his new girlfriend had stopped by often and cheered his mother up.

But as the temperature went up, so did Baugh’s fever. Her condition steadily degenerated to being bed-ridden. Dr. Wheatley said of her illness, “Pneumonia: an infection in her lungs. It’s never pretty, and I’m starting to get worried.”

Dr. Wheatley was not the only one. Scorpan ordered Spike to stay at Baugh’s side every moment of the day. During the afternoon, he would often nap next to her instead of spending time with Nightmare. She would find a soft place to sit and practice her new writing and reading, or walk around the city.

The Sumarian streets were choked with sand. The vendors sold furs and hot meats. Both still disgusted Nightmare Moon. Spike often went with her on such outings, pointing out points of interest and telling short anecdotes and jokes.

“And then the editor says, ‘Read it? I already ruined it!’”

She nearly collapsed to the ground and gasped through guffaws, “That is absolutely disgusting, Spike. Why would you tell me that?”

“I knew you would like that one.” He paused. Spike, despite being older than Scorpan and Baugh’s son, still acted childish, but was mature enough to be reliable.

“Nightmare, how bad is she?”

“Baugh? You take care of her. You must overhear the doctor. You tell me.”

“No. I mean… your sister, Celestia. Is she really as bad as Scorpan thinks?”

“Bad? She’s a difficult mare to please and Scorpan humiliated her when they first met. She’s not too bad if you know her.” Nightmare knew of the terrible things her sister did out of necessity, but she was no different. She doubted any ruler was.

“I don’t know. Scorpan and her shout a lot. Sometimes, I get scared they’re going to hurt each other.”

Stopping dead in her tracks in a city park, Nightmare turned to the drake on her back. “Since when do they talk to each other? Anything they have to say, I could do in my sister’s place!”

“Celestia doesn’t like anyone knowing she’s here sometimes. She shows up unannounced and they start yelling. She first started showing up a little after the Witches were killed. She called him a lot of names, and he called her a lot, too.” Spike seemed to have no idea of how to keep a secret.

“What else do they argue about?” Both her sister and friend had kept a secret from her. Though she didn’t like it, maybe it was simply their issue.

“She says he is a ‘loose cannon who could disrupt the balance of power.’ He says she ’coddles her little ponies to death’. Baugh says Scorpan bottles up too much pressure. I think he lets it out on your sister. I was wondering if she really is that bad. Bad enough to make Scorpan say he wants to spit on her grave?”

Nightmare didn’t answer him.


** ** **


“Scorpan, my sister has been speaking with you privately, and I want to know why.”

It was after dinner that night. Spike had gone to bed, Baugh was taking a warm bath, and it was just the two of them in the study as usual.

A skeptical look growing on his face, Scorpan put down the papers he was rereading, trying to find something he liked about the Bashaw of Aan’s foreign policy. “Nightmare, if it was an issue of State, you would know, but your sister hates me, and the feeling is mutual. There is little more to it than that.”

“Then why does she meet with you? What do you discuss? Or shout about as… a source tells me.”

“I trust Spike. He wouldn’t tell anyone besides you or Baugh. And we just take our anger out on each other. She first wanted to know exactly what happened with the Witches of the Volcano of Gloom. I told her what I did, and she bragged she would have been swifter, more thorough. Then I reminded her that I had killed them and not her.

“Nightmare, I do hate your sister. I say some terrible things to her, but she and I need each other.”

Nightmare held her gaze. “Spike said you wanted to spit on her grave. Should I take that as a threat to her life?”

“Well,” he answered casually, “there is a certain satisfaction in outliving your enemies. Do I truly want her dead? Nah. She and I did have a pleasant conversation once. She told me I was the only reasonable, trustworthy, competent—I believe she also used the word honorable—ruler she has met in my lifetime. She has been more than eager to do business with Sumaria, and I can deal with her.”

Nightmare shifted uncomfortably on her cushion. “You said she coddled her ponies…”

“I was referring to Cutie Marks before I understood them entirely. I admit I still do not, but I understand now she has no control over the Marks. I admit that was unfair for me to say.”

Nightmare held her tongue for thirty seconds before asking, “Scorpan, have you mentioned me?”

He thought carefully before he spoke. “She does not approve of our friendship. And I she approved of your stay here. But she cares for you, in a rather… Big Brother way. Orwell. He’s an author. Give it some time and you’ll be reading his books," he added hastily, seeing the questioning look upon her face.

Nightmare lay down on the couch and thought until she simply teleported herself into bed.


** ** **


Her wheezing was the first thing Nightmare recalled about that day every time she remembered it later. Baugh had been coughing all night. Nightmare ate breakfast in her room alone. She only calmed down after being drawn a hot bath and breathing in the steam. Scorpan had come out of their bedroom and walked right into Nightmare Moon.

“Oof. Oh, I’m sorry. I—I—I—”

His eyes were red and already filled with tears when he turned back toward his bed. Laying down, he didn’t protest when she opened the door and sat next to him, draping a wing over his shoulder again. She heard him crying again.

“I can’t do this.” He sobbed. “I can’t lose her.”

He didn’t lift his face from the unmade bed, not even to point Dr. Wheatley to the bathroom door, where Baugh was enjoying normal breaths.

He nearly choked on his sobs while he explained the situation. “She was coughing up blood. She was so weak I had to take her bedclothes off before carrying her to the tub, and she was burning up in my hands.”

He threw his arms around her and cried out harder than ever. Nightmare lifted her hooves and dropped them to his shoulders, doing her best to return his embrace. His tears weighed down her fur, and his ears registered her strong heartbeat for the first time.

“I was scared before, but now… Nightmare, I can’t lose her.” He looked her in the eye. “Please, do something. Anything. Let me take her place. I can’t go on without her…”

Nightmare could only shake her head and hold him closer to her. They stayed where they were for a while until he decided they should climb off the floor. His and Baugh’s bedroom had few furnishings, so they climbed onto the bed and refused to move. Scorpan was scratching behind Nightmare’s ears when Wheatley emerged from the bathroom.

“Sir, she would like to speak to Miss Nightmare Moon, and I doubt you want her to hear the diagnosis.”

“Doctor, she has been by us for a while. She can hear you,” Scorpan said.

“No. Besides, she wants to talk. I’ll… leave you two alone.”

Climbing off the bed, Nightmare stepped into the bathroom and saw Baugh in the bathtub, nude. She could not understand the human obsession with clothing; that was perhaps for the best right now. Nightmare had been swimming with Scorpan and Baugh last summer, and she had lost significant weight since then, probably all of it since she came down with her illness.

“Nightmare Moon, please, have a seat.”

Obliging, she put a hoof on the tub’s lip and sighed.

“Nightmare, I am no fool. I won’t last much longer. This disease will kill me soon, but I’m not afraid. Do you feel fear?”

Nightmare nodded. “Yes, I do. I am afraid of failure. Your husband just asked me to heal you, almost as if I would not have done it. And now I am afraid for him. He has said some things…”

Baugh smiled. “I thought he would. He’s stronger than he gives himself credit for. I know the great things he has done will not end with me. Nightmare, Scorpan has always had trouble making friends, believe or not, and I think you are the best friend he has ever had. You have been here for him all this time, and you will need to stay next to him after my passing. Can you do that?”

Pursing her lips, she stared at the clawed leg of the tub. “Yes. I can. Baugh, your husband is one of the greatest people I have ever known, even knowing him is… And… I don’t have many friends.” She sniffed back the tears threatening to fall. “I can do that.”

“Thank you, Nightmare.” Baugh pulled her on for a hug, dripping water down Nightmare’s wings and back. Her skin was so warm to the touch. “You take good care of him, and keep him happy after I’m gone. Okay?”

“I will.”

Stepping up, Nightmare let the water linger on her back and wings. She turned around and slowly walked out to the bedroom where Scorpan was still sitting on the bed, staring at the wall. She sat on her haunches next to him and let his hands pet her head.


** ** **


Nightmare spent most of that day in her guest room, struggling to write a letter to her sister in Uran. She could go into so much more detail and convey emotion with this writing. So what if Celestia couldn’t read it? Shortly after raising the moon for the night, a knock came at her door. 

“Come in,” she called.

Scorpan stepped in and closed the door quietly behind him, keeping his head low, Nightmare thought she knew what he was going to say. He did not say anything at all. He just stood there, searching for the words, allowing her to suggest it did not happen.

“Scorpan? What’s wrong?”

He tensed up and sighed. “Baugh… passed away minutes ago. She’s gone.”

He bowed his head and hissed for breath through his gritted teeth. Gasping for breath, he felt Nightmare’s head fall upon his shoulder. Shuddering to keep his tears at bay, he pulled away from her comfort and stormed out into the hallway.

Nightmare heard a familiar voice before Kevin poked his head in her room. “What was that about?”

When she didn’t immediately answer, he became desperate. “Nightmare Moon, what happened?” he asked, worry creeping into his voice.

“Kevin, I shouldn’t be the one to tell you this. But… your mother… is no longer with us. She’s gone.” She tried to look him in the eye, but she did not want to see his heart break.

He did not break down, but sat on the bed and stared at the floor. Climbing onto the bed on her belly, she lay her head in his lap and let him scratch behind her ears. He seemed to be in shock.

“She was peaceful.  And with her husband. It was a… It was pleasant.”

Her words didn’t seem to comfort him. “I should have been here sooner,” he said miserably.

“You were here every other day since she fell ill. You have your own life to worry about, and she loved you. You did nothing wrong.”

“But… I still should have been.”

The two of them sat quietly until she stood to lower the moon. Scorpan chose that moment to and embraced his son.

“Should I be leaving your home, Scorpan? I know you will need time to mourn.”

“No! Please, Nightmare, don’t leave us.” Surprisingly, it was Kevin’s voice. “We… we need someone close. Don’t go.”

“Scorpan?” she asked. He did not answer her, but went to his office, presumably to bury himself in work.

“Come on, Kevin. He needs his space, and we should be nearby when he decides to talk.”


** ** **


That had been two days ago. Scorpan threw together a funeral in twenty-four hours. He said she never wanted a fancy burial—make sure she was dead, get a pine box, and a dig hole in the ground with a modest marker.

Nightmare attended many funerals before, usually heads of foreign states. There was always a long procession, a parade through the streets to their final resting place, and a long, long service. She asked Kevin about human funerals the night before and was keen to see how different this one was.

She teleported herself back to Everfree to grab her best black dress and now scrutinized it from every angle in the mirror she conjured, forgoing her armor for the first time since she arrived two weeks ago. Heavy bootfalls behind her did not allow her to take her eyes off the wing sockets on her barrel.

“You look beautiful, Nightmare.”

“Thank you, Scorpan. Should I… style and dress my mane, or let it flow?”

“Let it flow. You look beautiful, I said.”

He stood in the doorway of the study, staring at the floor beneath her hooves, an empty look in his eye. He was dressed in his typical winter boots, grey trousers, and matching jacket. “I’m surprised you wore a dress at all. Your coat is the perfect color.”

“Thank you.” She banished the mirror and looked out through the balcony window. The streets were coated with a film of sand and water. The denizens of Sumaria up and about their day already.

Nightmare could not understand. Their Princess was dead, but it seemed that no one cared. Her confusion must have shown on her muzzle, since Scorpan stepped next to her and spoke softly.

“They have their own lives. They can’t grieve for a private citizen they didn’t even know. That’s why it’s special; these are people she did know. Like you.”

She said nothing.

“She never mentioned who she wanted to be pawl bearers. Obviously, my son and I… Daniel said he would pitch in… Spike’s too small, so would you care to help us carry the casket?”

Turning from the balcony, they made their way into the corridor and headed for the Great Hall. “I thought men typically did that?”

“Men usually have an easier time lifting it, yes, but you have magic. If you pitch in, we won’t need to have to ask other men for help.”

“That seems reasonable. Do we have to carry her all the way to the cemetery?”

“No. There is a cart to take her most of the way. We are going to load her onto it and open the viewing lid for a last glance. When we get to the cemetery, we will close and lock the lid for good before… lowering her… into the ground.”

The first emotion of the day crept into his speech as his voice cracked. Nightmare stopped before the door to the Hall and turned to him. “Scorpan?”

He leaned against the wall and slid to the floor, his jacket folding up behind his neck. Letting out a heavy sigh, he hung his head. “She won’t be the last, either. What I’ve done is…”

“She won’t be the last what?” Nightmare worried there had been more to Baugh’s death than met the eye.

“She had pneumonia, Nightmare, but that’s not what killed her. She died when she heard the whole damn city’s sterile. If it’s the magic of the land, it’s my fault. I led us all here, and we have it because of me.” He wiped his tears away before continuing, “How many other people are going to… Even if no one else dies from hearing this, we’re going to be the only generation in Sumaria! It’s a death sentence by the slowest, most painful way possible.”

She wiped his tears with her mane. “We… we can’t live like this. I… I need to find a way… I need to do something.”

“Scorpan,” Nightmare cooed, “don’t think about that. Not today. Today is about her. You want me to stay for you, well do this for me. Relax…”

She lay both her hooves on his shoulders and held his gaze. “You’re going to burn yourself out. Chill, man. You trippin’ and gonna fall into a hoe house.”

Chuckling at her new language, Scorpan asked, “Did Kevin tell you all that?”

She blushed. “His girlfriend showed up late last night and we stayed up telling jokes until one in the morning. Thinking about something besides today,” she added with a glance telling him not to get off subject.

“Okay.” Standing and dusting his jacket off, he said, “Let’s go.”


** ** **


Scorpan hooked a gramophone to the cart. It played a piano piece Nightmare Moon had never heard before, playing on a loop for the two kilometers from the castle to the grave site. Nightmare Moon, Scorpan, Kevin, and Daniel hefted the casket to the muddy ground. The four of them stood back while the small procession of people wanting to pay their last respects passed by and took one last look.

Scorpan took his final look, closed, locked, and kissed the viewing lid before stepping back and letting Nightmare lower the casket into the grave.

Nightmare saw everyone grab a handful of soil and drop it into the hole. She did the same with her hoof.

Daniel had led the service himself. Scorpan and Kevin were silent as stone the whole time. She stood silently, trying to look like she fit in. All three of them passed on their opportunity to say something when they had the chance. Nightmare was still unsure as to what she could do. 

Before she knew it, the attendees started walking away, Kevin and his girl were among the first to leave. Scorpan also left before long, but went to the other side of the small burial ground, hopped the fence, and went into the woods.

Nightmare followed him at a distance until he sat on a fallen log and hung his head, the back of his trousers getting soiled from the wet, rotten timber. She did not see or hear him cry too much earlier. Perhaps he let it all out in the days leading up to now.

When she sat down next to him, he asked her a question. “What happens when ponies die?”

“We give them a funeral, similar to this. No gramophones or—“

“No. I mean, where do they go when they die?” He sat up straighter and looked to a bird nest from last summer that somehow survived the winter. “Do their… ghosts haunt where they lived? Do they go off to an endless grassland, where the hay grows tall and the sweetest water you’ve ever tasted flows? Or do they close their eyes and know no more? What happens?”

Nightmare Moon had never put much thought into such things. “I’m sure some ponies think that. If you’re asking for certainty, I can’t answer you. I could ask my mother. She might know. Why do you ask?”

“Because I have no idea what happens to humans.” He sounded bitter and hurt. “I don’t know if I will ever see my wife again. I don’t know if she can see me now. Nightmare, what happens when a human dies here? I mean, we weren’t born here. This isn’t where we were raised. Can our Creator even know where we are?”

“Well, who IS your Creator?” Nightmare asked. Scorpan had asked of the Creation of this world but never mentioned his own.

“If you know, now would be a good time to tell me. Because I sure as hell don’t know.” He stood, walked to the tree supporting the bird’s nest, and banged his head against the trunk with a soft thunk.

“How would I know of your Creator?”

“Your mother made this world. Why not mine? The world of Ur is… too perfect, too beautiful, too peaceful to be born of an unspeakably violent accident. Someone made my world with a purpose and a plan, but damned if I know who.”

Turning his back to the tree trunk, he sighed. “I always wanted to meet them. To talk with them. To ask ‘how’ and ‘why.’ I’ve not gotten the chance yet. And if I do ever meet them, I now have another question.”

Nightmare said nothing for a while.

“I do like the idea of an Endless Grassland with sweet waters.”

He stayed where he was, pouting.

“Scorpan, I want you to come to Everfree Castle tonight,” she blurted..

“I’m sorry?” he inquired.

“I told my sister I would return to the Castle tonight, and I don’t want to see you wake up alone in the morning. You can stay in MY guest room. Maybe you can keep showing me how to write, take your mind off such heavy thoughts. You need it.”

“No. I can’t, Nightmare. I have work to do…”

“Nonsense. You’ll enjoy it.”

She enveloped him in her magic and pulled him close while lighting up her horn to teleport them both to the Everfree Valley.