Far in the north of Equestria, between its border and the Griffon Kingdoms, lay a series of forbidding mountains known as the Skyshaper. The range was unclaimed by either pony or griffon, the result of an ages-past treaty that prevented either from accessing the vast wealth of riches that lay within, which may have had something to do with the masses of creatures that dwelt there.
Another feature of the Skyshapers were several volcanoes nestled in amongst the mountains, and it was one of these very volcanoes where Celestia, Queen-in-exile had established a new palace, as she plotted to regain her throne and country.
It was an impressive sight, a great thing of obsidian and gold, connected to the volcano by three bridges, hanging above the crater as it did. On the first floor lay the golden throne of Celestia herself, as she sat and thought to herself, something she had been doing a great deal of late.
It was far beneath this palace that the least trustworthy of all her servants, Solrath, one of the eldest dragons alive, slumbered, dragons being quite immune to the magma’s touch. He was not part of Celestia’s cause, but rather involved for his own, deeply personal reasons. Many centuries ago, after Celestia’s fall, Solrath and his brothers and father had decided to ransack the unprotected Equestria. This had led to them meeting with an incensed Princess Luna, who until then had been wandering the country in her grief. Only Solrath and two of his brothers escaped alive. From that day forth, Solrath swore vengeance upon Luna, no matter how long it took. Not so much for the deaths of his kin, but more for the fact that Luna had attacked him in the first place.
Dragons were fuelled by greed, after all. Caring about others was not something that tended to come naturally to them.
He had been lazing in the magma to himself, quite enjoying the rest and relaxation as he planned his revenge. That was when he heard the noise, for even ancient and blind though he was, Solrath’s hearing was crystal clear, even over the noise of a volcano (another reason to hate working with Celestia, the mare shouted so often, and so did her pathetic lackeys). Hoofsteps, crossing the bridge.
And not one of Celestia’s little minions. He knew their canters well. This was someone… new.
That intrigued him. With a great noise, Solrath raised himself from the lava with more speed than his bulk would have suggested, quickly ascending to the bridge.
The pony stopped as he approached, making a great show of staring at them. True, he was blind, but he could see magic, and could therefore see a pony. This one… was just an ordinary unicorn.
Most ponies, on being put face-to-face with a full-grown dragon, tended to react with fear (understandable, really), but this one… seemed calm. He could hear their heart beating away in their chest, but it wasn’t afraid.
So they were either brave, foolish, or mad. Perhaps some combination of the later two.
He rumbled to himself. “And what are you doing here, little pony?”
“I’ve come to see Celestia,” they said. It was a mare… a young one, from the sound of it. Barely above a whelp.
He smiled a cruel smile. “And suppose she does not want to see you?”
“She probably won’t,” the whelp admitted. “Then the whole trip here would be for nothing.”
“And I suppose I do not let you in?”
The whelp thought on this. “Then I would be entirely at your mercy, Solrathicharnon-Chahir-Uskirlymzolthurkear.”
Solrath was impressed, something that didn’t occur all too often, at the sign of respect. Draconic tradition had their names grow longer the older they grew, and to use a shorter version of their name was a mark of disrespect. Dragons were not a subtle species, and tended to respond to disrespect by demolishing the offender. For a pony to learn his entire name, and to use his entire name, something that hadn't happened in long ages… it pleased him. And that was something that occurred even less.
“Then you are in luck, little pony. I am of an uncommonly benevolent mood today,” he took care to stress the words, make it clear to the pony her life was only continuing because of it, “so you may see Celestia. Beyond that, however, I make no guarantees.”
The pony bowed, and then trotted further in. Solrath paused, and instead of heading back toward the lava positioned himself to better hear the proceedings.
On her golden throne in her makeshift palace, Queen Celestia, the Daystar, the Undimmed, true ruler of all Equestria, sat deep in contemplation, much as she had the last few months.
There was no denying that since her visit to Tambelon, since the demon-ram Grogar had been dealt with, there had been a change in her. No longer was she driven to reclaim her rightful place by fire and conquest. Now she sought a more peaceable means. The time for action would be soon, though. Already, new allies were flocking to her, those slighted or disillusioned by Luna’s rule, the faithful who never lost hope, and sadly more than a few who were mere opportunists, wishing to capitalise on the changing winds her return had brought.
She had been so deep in thought she’d barely heard Solrath speaking with somepony, barely heard the approaching hoofsteps. Her mind had been thinking back to Tambelon, much as she wished it wouldn’t, to that darkened chamber where Grogar had been attempting to summon… him.
The Liar, the Deceiver, the Thief. The Tyrant in the Pit. The Shadow in the Soul. Lord of All Sorrows.
Tirek.
Particularly, her mind kept going over his last words to her, his cruel mockery of her fallen status among her little ponies. He had seen how those who’d wielded the Elements had seen her as no better than Grogar… and laughed.
“All glory to the Tyrant Sun.”
“Your Highness?” came a familiar voice, snapping her out of her unwanted recollection. Kindle, of course. One of the first to flock to her willingly, a devoted servant if there ever was one (though sometimes she did think he could have stood to calm down. He seemed to think all the burden of her demands lay entirely on his back.)
He gestured toward the pony standing in the center of her throne room, an inoffensive and ordinary looking unicorn, eyeing the place apprehensively.
“You stand before her highness,” Kindle declared, as if she could not have announced herself (she really did need to have some words with him about that), “Queen Celestia, the Daystar Undimmed, True Ruler of Equestria, and of you. Who are you and what is your purpose here?”
“I am but a messenger,” the mare, the filly if Celestia’s ears were any indication, said. There was a brief tremor in them, as if she were afraid. Another pony brought in to a thousand years of lies and exaggeration about her.
“And what is your message?” Celestia asked, before Kindle could (she could’ve sworn she heard him make a noise at that).
“First, thanking you for a moment of your time. I have three messages to deliver.”
“And what are they?” Celestia asked. Her eyes were always hidden by the glow of her magic, so the pony likely would not have noticed as she used her skills to examine the pony surreptitiously. They seemed genuinely humble to be before her, but it never hurt to be cautious. As far as her magic showed, the pony was an ordinary unicorn. Completely average, in fact.
“The first, is Spellhold.”
It was astounding how, despite being in an active volcano, how utterly silent the room went.
“What of it?” Celestia asked. The great library of Spellhold had been one of the crown jewels of Tambelon at its height, one of the largest and greatest archives of magic in all the world, taken from all races and walks of life. And, Celestia thought, lost during the return of Tambelon all those months ago, vanished to some unknown place.
“You’ve been looking for it,” the foal said, “my, ah, employer knows where it is.”
“And do I dare presume that this “employer” of yours is convinced they can sell this information to me?” Celestia demanded, “Do they not know who I am? I am no noble or Griffon stray, who can be bartered with. I am Celestia! I am the Sun!”
“I know,” the pony said, backing away slightly at her words, “that’s why it's free.”
There was a small flash, and a pop, and a small scroll appeared next to the pony. “This is Spellhold’s current location.”
“How did you come by this?” Kindle asked, glowering at the pony. Celestia glared at him, for speaking out of turn again, but she did admit the question was valid.
“They happened to notice the flare of magic as it teleported,” the filly said, “tracked or traced it, I don’t know.”
Celestia said nothing. The foal was but a messenger, likely lied to by whoever sent her. She was tempted to burn the scroll then and there, but… Spellhold. The last remnant of Tambelon, the last of that beautiful and ancient city, and a priceless source of knowledge. If there was a chance, even the slightest, that she could get to the tomes that lay inside…
A thought occurred to her. “Why has your employer not utilised this knowledge for themselves?” she asked, as she tried not to think of the possibility of the information being given to other, worse options, Luna excluded there were a great deal of beings out there who would gladly have committed any number of acts to gain even a slither of the information within Spellhold’s walls. The pony just made an odd gesture.
“No idea. Maybe supreme arcane knowledge doesn’t interest them. Maybe they only trust you with it.”
Celestia stared at the pony as they said this.
“You said this was one of three messages,” Kindle mused, “what are the other two?”
“Well, the second is sort of related to the first, you see,” the pony shuffled nervously, “Spellhold is a demonstration of good faith. The second is… would you like an easy way into Canterlot?”
Celestia tensed at that. She had been seeking a way in, a way that would not require bloodshed, or fighting, just a means of getting to Luna and removing her without having to harm anypony else. And now this pony was offering her a means to do so…
It was too good to be true. Far too good.
“And what proof do you have that this is true, and not some means of a trap?” Celestia asked, her voice dangerously low.
“That’s where Spellhold comes in. You see it’s there, and that shows we’re on the level, that our offer is genuine.”
“Why did your employer not come to deliver the message themselves, if this is truly what it seems?” Kindle asked. The pony shrugged.
“Maybe they thought you might not believe them, or might try to throw them in a dungeon, for stumbling upon your…” the pony looked about, as a realisation seemed to sink in.
It was taking all of Celestia’s titanic will not to sigh at that.
“And the third message?” she asked.
The pony’s horn glowed once more, there was another flash and a pop, and to Celestia’s mild surprise, a large cake appeared. Kindle stared at it with deep suspicion, as if suspecting it to explode at any moment.
“What is that?” he asked.
“Cake?” the filly replied.
“And what is in it?” Kindle asked. The pony stared blankly at him, then at the cake itself.
“Jam?” the filly shrugged.
“And why,” Kindle asked, now sounding increasingly suspicious, “have you brought it here?”
“It’s a gift.” The pony responded.
“Poisoned?” Kindle hissed.
“If there were any poison strong enough to work on an alicorn,” the pony said, “I’m pretty sure it’d just destroy the cake.”
From behind the filly, there was a rumbling, as Solrath chuckled at that. Kindle opened his mouth to speak further, but Celestia raised a hoof.
“Enough. The gift is accepted.” She wrapped the gift in her magic, and teleported it away to the small pantry kept elsewhere in the castle (for while she had no need to eat, being an alicorn, her servants did). She also made a note to have Zecora examine it thoroughly later, as soon as the zebra returned from her latest excursion. Kindle looked to her in confusion, Celestia just stared him, and the pony bowed his head.
“Of course. Forgive me, my queen. I only felt concern for your well-being.”
“An attitude that does you credit,” Celestia said gently, “however unnecessary it is. I am quite capable of protecting myself.”
She turned back to the messenger. “Now, assuming I decide to take your employer’s… offer, I would assume they would try and dictate terms.”
“Well, ah…” the pony looked about again, “I think they said they’d wait until summer, when the Contest of Champions is over. Don’t know why, but they were pretty insistent about that.”
Celestia decided it was not worth asking whether the pony felt she could have retaken her country in that time.
“And what of you?” Celestia asked. Next to her, Kindle began smiling an unnecessarily unfriendly smile.
“Me?” the girl asked.
“Oh, yes. I am in a war with my sister. And your employer may not have valued you to send you to me, where there was every risk of capture. But since you know the location of my palace, you cannot be allowed to leave. I am sure your employer will understand the necessity to prevent their suffering the compulsion to tell all, as long as you are my guest. However,” she paused, “I am not unreasonable. And I can certainly pay far more substantial rewards than this pony who employs you.”
The pony looked about the throne room for a long while. Hopefully they were not foalish enough to try and flee. Even if they tried teleporting, they would not get far. Celestia’s throne room was warded to prevent any departures. The poor little thing looked so desperately nervous, likely as she realised the depths to which her employer had betrayed her, expecting the youth to be captured or destroyed. It saddened Celestia, the depths to which her ponies had sunk in her absence.
Then, quite suddenly, a dramatic change overtook the girl. The look of fear vanished completely, replaced by a calm, confident look.
“Yes… about that… I can’t help but notice you have your minions and a dragon, and a teleportation-dampening spell in effect.” Celestia tensed.
“And, it’s a good spell, but… the thing is… I may be guilty of more than one or two teensy-little lies, and… well...”
The mare’s horn glowed brightly for a moment. A spell washed over the entire volcano, undoing the spell’s effects in an instant.
“Bye, Princess!” The mare remarked, as she vanished in a flash of light.
For a long moment afterward, there was no noise, as Celestia stared at the spot the pony had been standing so intently it was amazing the floor wasn’t melting. Solrath just made a bemused noise, before slowly making his way back down to the magma pit below.
“We can track her, Your Highness,” Kindle said once he recovered his wits, “she’ll rue the day she dared moc-”
“No,” Celestia growled. “No, Kindle. There will be a reckoning with that one later, but not now. There are more important matters to deal with.”
She did want to find the pony, to make them rue a great deal of choices they had made, but… she was Celestia. She was the sun. She had far greater concerns, such as recovering her country. She looked at the scroll held in her magic.
“As soon as Zecora returns, you and she shall investigate these claims of Spellhold. I would wish to see if it is true… and if it is, then we shall see.”
Kindle bowed. “As you command, my queen.”
Even if it was a deception, the thought of allowing Spellhold’s magic to fall into anyone’s hooves filled her with a sense of dread. She could not afford to let such a claim not be investigated.
As to the pony, and whatever fool that employed her, they would learn the price that came of crossing Celestia.
Oh, yes. They would learn.