Twilight struggled against the pegasi holding her, straining her neck to look up. “Lyra?! Lyra Heartstrings?!” she exclaimed.
“You remember me?” Lyra asked, eyes wide with surprise. “You know, I’m actually flattered. I wasn’t even sure you ever learned my name.”
“Of course, I remember you!” Twilight replied. “We’re friends! Not great friends, but I see you around Ponyville all the time.”
Lyra opened her snout to say something, then looked to Spike. Spike shrugged. “I think there’s something wrong with her. She was saying a bunch of weird stuff back behind the flower shop too.”
“I’ll deal with it,” Lyra replied. As Twilight watched, Lyra reached out and patted Spike’s head. “You did good. Go find Applejack. She’s going to want to see this.”
“Applejack?” Twilight whispered to herself. Suddenly, it all clicked. This was a trap. This had been a trap the entire time. Tom had used her feelings for Applejack, used her loneliness and confusion to bait her into coming here. From the moment Bon Bon had walked into that diner, Tom was setting her up for the emotional hammer blow.
How could she have been so stupid? Of course it was a trick. He didn’t even know Bon Bon’s name.
Twilight let out a guttural roar, boiling all the pain and uncertainty she’d felt in this horrible place into pure rage. With a flash from her horn, she teleported to freedom, landing three feet away from where she’d lain. She raised her horn and fired off a concussive bolt at Lyra, which glowed a strange yellow-red as it flew. Lyra jerked her head sideways as the bolt arced past, crackling her mane as it flew.
Twilight’s bolt struck the eaves of the bowling alley and exploded on impact, sending several feet of roofing tiles flying through the air. Twilight stopped, stunned at what her magic had just done. Even as an alicorn, her concussive bolt wasn’t supposed to do that. If that had hit Lyra….
Lyra rounded on Twilight, horn held out threateningly. There was a fierce glare in her eyes, an expression Twilight had never seen Lyra wear before. Twilight followed Lyra’s motion and began circling the other direction, horn readied.
“You’re even crazier than you let on if you think I’m going to let you hurt me or my friends,” Lyra warned. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“Let’s talk about this,” Twilight said, the will to fight drained from her after seeing that spell.
“What, now you want to talk?” Lyra asked, a fierce glare blazing across her face. “You think I’m stupid enough to let you distract me while you line up another shot? And did you seriously come alone?! You really need to check your hubris, your majesty.” Lyra lunged suddenly, firing a shot from her horn.
Twilight leapt backwards, raising a barrier to deflect but the bolt punched through and struck her in the shoulder. Twilight let out a cry of pain, stumbling on her foreleg but keeping her balance. Lyra raised her horn for the follow-through, but Twilight retaliated, conjuring a burst of wind to throw her back off-balance.
Internally, Twilight berated herself. She shouldn’t have tried to block a straight-bolt with a spherical barrier. Her magic wasn’t as powerful in this state as it was in her true alicorn form. That was a sloppy amateur mistake and she was supposed to know better than that.
Twilight pressed forward, channeling her magic into her horn, but the two pegasi came at her from the side. She diverted her casting into her teleport, vanishing as one leapt upon her and reappearing on the roof of the flower shop. She lobbed a spell into the sky, summoning a thundercloud which began to drop a torrential downpour onto the street below.
One of Lyra’s pegasi, a large brown male that Twilight didn’t recognize, hoisted a large wooden plank from the debris of the shop, lifting it overhead to shield himself and the others from the rain. Raindrops pummeled the ground, cracking cobblestones and splintering the wood, but the pegasus held fast.
Lyra, meanwhile, used her telekinesis to grab hold of the straw under Twilight’s hooves and yank it downwards. Twilight let out a yelp as her footing abandoned her, sending her sprawling back down to the ground and cracking her shoulder as she impacted. She folded her legs over herself to shield her from her spell as she quickly dismissed the raincloud.
“You can’t win!” Lyra called out as her friend tossed the wood aside. “You might have been a great student back in school, Twilight, but we’ve found a power far greater than anything you could possibly imagine: the magic of friendship!”
Twilight snapped. Lyra might have had a pair of allies but Twilight excelled in magic. With a flash of her horn, the cobblestones beneath Lyra and her friends hoisted upwards, curling into tendrils of dirt and rock. Lyra and the brown pegasus were captured while the other pegasus, a light red mare, flapped upwards out of its grip.
Twilight leapt forward. A pounding ache in her head seemed to split her skull, but she fought through it and cast a freezing spell to paralyze the pegasus in midflight. She focused her magic, slowly reeling the pegasus in telekinetically while struggling to keep her concentration on the freezing spell.
Her migraine’s intensity flared, threatening to split her skull in half, but she refused to let up. Tom wanted a fight and now he was getting one, and she--
Twilight found herself seated on a large crystal chair, facing a mysterious round table. She was able to make out what seemed like a transparent map of Equestria emerging from the table’s surface. Around her sat her friends, each with a grim expression, in thrones made from blue crystal that bore their Cutie Marks.
“We have to do something,” another pony said. A pink pony that Twilight didn’t recognize stepped forward, addressing the group. Her purple mane seemed to curl around her horn, with a blue stripe reminiscent of Twilight’s red. “They could be here at any moment.”
“I know,” Twilight said. Her snout moved of its own accord, speaking without waiting for Twilight to catch up. “I’ve spoken with the other princesses and they’re just as concerned as we are, but there’s nothing that can be done. The dragons have their customs, and they’ve passed on the line of succession their way.”
“But,” Twilight continued. “That does not mean that we plan to be caught defenseless. The dragons are fierce, but we have the magic of friendship. Together, the ponies of Equestria are capable of more than Garble can even imagine. If we believe in each other, we can--”
Even in her sleep, Twilight could smell the delicious aroma of eggs and bacon wafting through the house, mixing with the old pine lumber. “Mrmm,” she muttered, rolling over and pulling the down comforter over herself. It was a morning like any other morning at Sweet Apple Acres, and she had every intention of enjoying the privilege of being a part of this family.
She could stay like this forever if only the universe would let her.
She knew breakfast was waiting for her downstairs, but she also knew what would happen if she dallied a couple of minutes. Besides, she’d been awake into the wee hours of the night researching her new spell, and sleep seemed very accommodating at the moment.
So she drifted, floating in the space between awake and sleep, waiting for her gallant knight to come and rouse her from her slumber. She had no sense of time in the space between mental states, but it felt like an eternity before she felt that hoof brush her mane away from her eyes and a rough yet gentle set of lips peck lightly at her forehead, just to the right of her horn.
“You’re liable to sleep the day away, you keep on like this.” After a few seconds, her favorite voice added, “C’mon, sugar, y’don’t want Granny thinkin’ you’re skippin’ out on breakfast, less’n she gets half a mind to start chargin’ you rent.”
“She wouldn’t do that,” Twilight whispered with a bemused smile, pointedly refusing to open her eyes. “Granny adores me.”
Applejack laughed. “Yeah, well, that and a dozen eggs will get you six scrambles, which is just what Granny’s whipped up for us. So come on, sugar, rise and shine.”
Something about that struck Twilight. “What did you say?”
“I said, rise and shine, sugarcube. Time to greet the first day of a brand new Equestria, where ponies don’t got to be afraid of the likes of you.”
Twilight froze the instant that voice hit her ears. She knew it was coming. She’d figured out that much from the moment she realized the trap Tom had lain with Lyra. Even so, the hostility in Applejack’s voice struck her with the force of an Ursa Major. Her heart quaked, sending an emotional ripple through her body that shook her to her core.
“Applejack?” Twilight groaned, lifting her head from the cool stone beneath her. She opened her eyes, blinking a few times as her eyes adjusted to the dim. The wood of the walls around her could be made out easily enough, and a single candle resting on a desk in the corner provided just enough light that she could make out the confines of her captivity.
Rods of bamboo embedded in the stone floor rose around her, tight enough that not even a filly could slip through, but still leaving room to see between them. Further bamboo stalks ran horizontally along the bars of her confinement, creating a functional latticework.
On the other side of the cage stood Applejack, reared up on her hind legs with one hoof against the cage. The position made her seem larger to Twilight, and the dim light behind her cast her features in shadow, creating a menacing feel to her presence that made the hairs on Twilight’s body stand on end.
“So I’m told you been lookin’ for me all by your lonesome,” Applejack says, pushing off of the cage and dropping to the ground. “So first, I reckon this is a trap. Ain’t nopony daft enough to go waltzin’ in to get me all by herself. But land’s sakes if that ain’t really you? Why don’t you sit a spell and level with me, your highness; what in Celestia’s sweet Equestria made you reckon that was a good idea?”
“I wanted to see you,” Twilight answered honestly. “I miss you. Nothing’s been the same since I got here, but you…that’s not you, is it? This is just another trick, and I walked blindly into it.” Mentally, she berated herself for putting the cart before the pony. She’d wanted so badly for Applejack to be here to help her that she’d led herself astray chasing after a fool’s hope.
“What in tarnation are you on about?” Applejack asked.
“Nothing you’d understand. I shouldn’t have let myself be taken in like this. You’re just another lie.”
Applejack shrugged. “Yeah, I ain’t got the foggiest of what you’re on about, sugar, and to be honest, I don’t rightly care. I should probably let you know that Lyra’s put some kinda magic doodad on those bars so you ain’t goin’ nowhere. If’n y’start itchin’ for an escape, go on and give your magic a try, but I hear tell that she’s put a right nasty surprise in place.”
The heartless tone with which Applejack spoke gave Twilight a chill in her heart. “What happened to you?” she asked.
“Me? I ain’t the problem here, your highness. I reckon you don’t even recognize this place, do you?”
Twilight took another look at the room around her. In the dim light of the candle, she could just barely make out a bag resting against the wall and what looked like a shelf or two, but nothing that seemed familiar.
“Should have known the meanin’ would be lost on you,” Applejack grumbled. “Well, don’t get comfy. We ain’t stayin’ long. Once we get the caravan up and movin’, we’ll be on our way. I’ve got accommodations all picked out for ya.”
Twilight laid on her front in the middle of the cage. She assumed Applejack was being truthful about the cage; Tom had probably just made some kind of magic-blanking field or something in his simulation, and she especially didn’t want to know what kind of surprise Applejack was talking about. As long as she kept her wits about her, she’d find her way out of this. But for now, she would meditate and wait for an opening to present itself.
“Thank you again for letting us use your basement,” Rarity said, sipping from her teacup. Fluttershy’s couch, comfortable though it was, offered her little reprieve from the tension of the day’s events.
“Of course,” Fluttershy answered from her green chair. “It’s nice that it’s getting some use.”
Pacing by the front door, Applejack uttered, “I still say we need to take that thing straight to Princess Celestia and be done with it!”
“I agree,” Rarity said diplomatically. “But we should have some idea of what we’re dealing with first. Tom feeds on magic. Putting him in a room with the most powerful pony in Equestria is a dangerous proposition.”
“The Princess can handle it,” Applejack argued. “She’s the one taught Twilight that counterspell of hers.”
“She’s right, of course.” Discord reclined on a red sofa that levitated near the door. He stared up at the ceiling, but his eyes moved as though watching something that nopony else could see. With a dismissive wave of his talon, he explained, “Princess Celestia would certainly be able to protect herself from Tom. Unless, of course, Tom were more analytically inclined. If he was more intelligent, somepony that could able to learn and comprehend the delicate nature of alicorn magic and dissect it on a fundamental level, that might be a bit of a problem.”
Rarity exchanged glances with Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash, seated beside her on the couch. It wasn’t hard to piece together what Discord was hinting at, and the implications--
“You’re messin’ with us,” Applejack said bluntly.
“Am I?” Discord sat up, turning towards her. “Why ever would I do a thing like that?”
Ignoring him, Applejack addressed the others. “Y’all see that, right? He’s playin’ us like fiddles. He wants us thinkin’ that fake Twilight in the basement might hurt the Princess so we’ll keep it here and let it carry out its plan!”
“Well, it’s working,” Rainbow Dash admitted.
Fluttershy calmly reached for her teacup on the end table between her chair and the couch. She lifted it to her snout as though to drink but hesitated. With the cup clearly between her and Discord, she politely asked, “Is this true?”
Discord looked to the cup, then up at Fluttershy. With a sigh, he confessed, “Yes, it is absolutely true. I am trying to trick all of you into allowing Tom the freedom he needs to carry out my master plan. Before long, he will steal the Elements of Harmony and use them to release me from my stony prison, allowing me to roam free in Equestria once more. Alas, I have been foiled by Applejack’s ingenious cunning.”
Applejack narrowed her eyes and looked away. “Well, when you put it like that….”
“Why is she Twilight?” Rainbow Dash asked, looking up at Discord.
The question earned her a stern glare from Applejack. “It ain’t.”
“Right, no, I get that. But why does she look like Twilight? And why does she talk like her and know our names and stuff? I can’t be the only one who thought that was her.”
“She was very convincing,” Fluttershy agreed. At Applejack’s glare, she shrank down in her seat. “I’m sorry, but it’s true.”
“It’s a good question,” Rarity added, joining the others in looking expectantly to Discord. “…are you planning on answering it today?”
“Hmph,” Discord grunted. “Why does everything have to be my fault? It was Twilight who created this one. Why don’t you ask her?”
“Because she’s gone?” Rainbow Dash answered.
Rarity traded glances with Fluttershy. She’d caught that too, evidently. “What do you mean by that?”
Discord scoffed. “I mean that I came all the way out here to help you and I’ve gotten nothing but accusations for my trouble! It’s as though nopony wants my help.”
“You listen here,” Applejack growled before Rainbow Dash could even finish processing how offended to be at that statement. “You got no idea what we’ve been through--”
“Oh, I’m sorry. You’re right, I’m being terribly inconsiderate. You’ve had such a hard time lately, haven’t you? It can’t be easy having a Special Somepony who’s more successful than you are.”
“Hey!” Applejack shouted. “That ain’t--”
Fluttershy quickly put herself in the middle of the room, flashing a diplomatic smile. “Now, now, I think everypony’s just a little stressed.” Looking up at Discord, she asked, “Please, if there’s anything you can do to help, we would all appreciate it.” Rainbow Dash opened her snout to say something, but Fluttershy insisted, “All of us.”
Discord grunted. “Very well. But I’m doing this for you, Fluttershy. Not for them.” With a snap of his talons, he dismissed his couch. Levitating upright in the middle of the group, Discord clutched his talon and paw together, then pulled them apart. A crystal shard emerged in the space, which he quickly snatched up with his paw and held out to the group.
“What is it?” Rainbow Dash asked. The shard shone brilliantly along the rainbow spectrum, its colors and shades shifting depending on the angle it was looked at. Its many faces reflected glimpses of things that weren’t there: a dragon roaring, a sunlit meadow, or the smiling face of Mrs. Cake. It hurt her head to look at it for too long
“This is a shard of crystallized unreality, taken from the space beyond existence. Each flawless edge is hewn in tattered, jagged pieces taken from the corners outside your vision. I hope you all appreciate the amount of work I had to put into making this; you couldn’t possibly grasp the hours I spent carving nothing out of everything.”
“When did you have hours to work on this?” Rainbow Dash asked suspiciously.
Discord shrugged. “Well, seconds, but it’s the thought that counts.”
Rarity reached out with her magic, levitating the chaos shard out of Discord’s paw. “It’s lovely, but what does it do?”
“Nothing!” Discord announced with a giggle. “It does absolutely nothing.”
Rarity blinked. “Why are you giving it to us if it doesn’t do anything?”
“I didn’t say it doesn’t do anything. I said it does nothing. Wherever something has been done, this will return it to nothing, leaving everything as it was. Think of this as a gift for Fluttershy, because I don’t think I like the rest of you very much right now.”
“Discord,” Fluttershy started.
“Please don’t make any more apologies on their behalf, Fluttershy. I know when I’m not wanted.” With that, Discord vanished in a flash of light, leaving the ponies alone with the chaos shard.
Two seconds after Discord vanished, Applejack gave a flat look to the other ponies. “So, y’all agree that he’s clearly behind this, right?”
“No, we do not agree,” Fluttershy argued. “None of you needed to be so rude to him. You hurt his feelings.”
“Why are we even wastin’ time with this?!” Applejack demanded. “He’s tryin’ to keep us from findin’ Twilight. There ain’t nothin’ more to it.”
“Then why give us this?” Rarity asked curiously, levitating the chaos shard.
“To keep us guessin’ at his motives.”
Fluttershy scrutinized the shard, pondering aloud. “I think he means for us to use this to destroy Tom.”
“That was my thought as well,” Rarity agreed. “You all heard what he said. This turns something into nothing. Tom is a something that Discord created, so one assumes that this would allow us to turn him into nothing and make that core of his into an ordinary rock. Unless, of course, it literally means nothing.” She rubbed a hoof against her forehead. “I do wish Twilight was here; this is starting to give me a headache.”
“What are you saying?” Rainbow Dash asked. “Discord gave us an off-switch for Tom?”
The question hung in the air as the reality presented by the shard began to settle in with everypony. Each turned their gaze to the shard before the migraine-inducing sight of its existence forced them to look away.
Fluttershy was the first to speak. “Absolutely not.”
Rarity dropped from the couch, approaching Fluttershy slowly. “Fluttershy, listen to me.”
“No! I’m sorry, but I have to draw a line here. My home is meant to be a safe haven for all living creatures. As long as she’s here, she has the same rights as anyone else who comes to me. If Pinkie Pie were up here, she’d say the same thing. I’m not going to let you harm her just because you’re mad.”
“That ain’t what we’re doin’,” Applejack said.
“Yes, Applejack, that is exactly what you’re thinking about doing. You want to use that shard to hurt somepony who might not even have done anything wrong.”
“That thing ain’t a pony!” Applejack exploded. “It ain’t even alive. It’s a rock made to bring us all down, and it’s been takin’ us for suckers since it was made. We got a way to shut it down. I say we go down there and make it tell us what it knows about Twilight, then switch it off for good.”
“Listen to yourself,” Fluttershy pleaded. “You’re talking about a thinking, feeling being. Maybe she’s not exactly like us, but who are we to say she doesn’t have a right to exist?
“We’re the ponies he’s hurt,” Rarity answered bluntly. “I’m sorry, Fluttershy, but Applejack’s right. Figuring out what happened to Twilight is going to be hard enough without having to watch our backs for his particular brand of ‘friendship’. This is a trap, and it’s not one that we should allow ourselves to be caught in again.”
“It ain’t even real,” Applejack added. “If it was a pony, I’d be with you, Fluttershy, but we’re talkin’ about an evil rock that wants nothin’ more than to see us all laid low. There ain’t no reason not to shut it down and be done with it.”
“You don’t know that. I still say no, and Pinkie Pie would agree with me. That makes two against two.” Fluttershy looked over to Rainbow Dash. “You’re with us, right, Rainbow Dash?”
Rainbow Dash had been quiet through this debate. With the spotlight put on her, she found herself in a rare moment of chafing at it. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “This is way over my head. I mean, if she were trying to take over Equestria or something that’d be one thing, but she hasn’t really done anything wrong.”
“He has done everything wrong,” Rarity retorted.
“Maybe?!” Rainbow Dash gestured towards the kitchen, where the trapdoor to the basement could be located. “Why is she Twilight?!” she asked again. “Nopony’s answered that! Is she even the same guy that we dealt with before? ‘Cause if she is, she’s dangerous, but she’s not doing anything down there.” Rainbow Dash put up her forelegs. “I don’t want to be the pony who makes this call. There’s just too much I don’t get.”
“Then it’s a tie,” Applejack stated bluntly.
“If we assume Pinkie’s vote is with Fluttershy, then yes,” Rarity replied.
“What does that mean?”
“It means we decide for ourselves. The rest of you can stay up here, but I’m going to go do what needs to be done.” Levitating the shard with her, Rarity marched through the kitchen door.
“Rarity, wait!” Fluttershy called after her, leaping down from her chair and following. “You can’t do this. She deserves a chance.”
Rarity whirled on Fluttershy, her eyes ablaze with fear and rage. “He will destroy us if we give him half a chance. Do you remember what he did to us? What he did to me?”
“I do remember,” Fluttershy insisted. “But we don’t even know if that’s him.”
“We know enough. I’m doing this, Fluttershy. You don’t have to watch.” The kitchen rug lay unfurled, revealing a small trapdoor in the floor. Rarity used her magic to pull it open, descending with the shard into the basement without another word.
The wooden stairs did little to disguise the inhospitable atmosphere permeating the basement. A chill drifted through the foundation, forcing a shudder out of Rarity. The stairs led down to a long chamber with wooden walls lined with shelves. Occupying the shelves sat a variety of supplies for tending to Fluttershy’s animals. There were bags of birdseed next to rolls of gauze. Brushes and combs of various shapes and sizes shared shelf space with spare water bowls and loofahs.
In the back of the room, Pinkie Pie picked up a pair of dice between her hooves. She cast them out, clacking along the stone floor as they rolled. “Six!” she announced cheerfully, before taking her token from the gameboard on the floor and moving it along, one by one. Spike sat along another side of the board, watching her move her token.
Fluttershy’s bear friend Harry stood guard by the stairs, as the group had decided. If the Twilight construct attacked Pinkie Pie, his job would be to come to her aid and smash the illusion’s fragile form. Rarity had her reservations about whether or not that would be effective in disabling Tom’s magic-draining properties, but she didn’t have a better suggestion. Or, at least, she hadn’t before Discord’s present.
As for the construct herself, the phantom Twilight sat across the board from Pinkie Pie, watching her move her token. At the sound of Rarity’s hooves clicking against the basement’s stone floor her head jerked up suddenly. “Applejack?” she called out into the dim basement, eyes alight with hope. At the sight of Rarity, her eyes drooped.
“No, silly, that’s Rarity!” Pinkie Pie said with a smile. “Hi, Rarity! Did you figure out a plan yet?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Rarity replied coldly. Her eyes locked on Tom’s core, which sat pulsing in its open chest beside the gameboard. It would be easy, she knew. Applejack was right; it was like turning off a lamp. There was nothing to--
“How are you feeling?” Fluttershy asked, following Rarity down. She moved quickly to the phantom’s side.
“My head’s still fuzzy,” the false Twilight admitted. “It’s difficult for me to think, but I feel like I’m starting to put things together again.”
“We’ve been working with her on her memories,” Spike explained.
“…is that right?” Rarity asked.
“Nopony went with me to the human world,” explained Tom’s deceitful trick. “I went alone. I don’t know why I didn’t remember that earlier. I’ve hypothesized that Tom might have had some kind of safeguard to prevent his enchantment from being interfered with. I must have triggered a trap of some kind.”
Sheepishly, the illusion continued. “I’m really sorry about earlier. I’m not entirely sure what happened. There’s blank spots in my memory. After Rainbow Dash said what she did, I thought Tom had taken control of her again. I panicked. It wasn’t my proudest moment.”
“I’ve been helping her too,” Pinkie Pie said proudly. “She took some convincing, but she’s figured out we’re not all mind-controlled minions of evil now. The game helped!”
Twilight’s phantom nodded in agreement, but her heart wasn’t in it. She looked into Rarity’s eyes. “I’m scared, Rarity. My magic still hasn’t come back. What if it never does?”
Rarity looked to Pinkie Pie, uncertain of what to say. She could see the concern in Pinkie’s eyes, but the party pony seemed just as lost as she was. “…Twilight,” Rarity started, but she had no idea where to even go from there. The magic field gripping the chaos shard behind her wavered.
“I know,” the illusion replied. “You couldn’t possibly know. It’s just…why am I down here, Rarity? Applejack wouldn’t even talk to me, and when she did…I’ve never seen so much hate in her eyes. Did I do something when I blacked out?”
Rarity took a step backwards, unsure of what to say or do, but the image of Twilight pressed on. “Why won’t you talk to me?” The image stood from the game, taking a step towards Rarity, which prompted the unicorn to back away further. “Please, Rarity. I’ve already lost my magic. I’ve lost Applejack. I can’t lose my friends too. I need you.”
“I can’t do it,” Rarity said bluntly, casting the chaos shard down on Fluttershy’s coffee table. The crystal clacked against the wood as it landed, rolling to a stop against Rainbow Dash’s mug of cocoa.
Applejack reeled on Rarity. “Are you plumb out of your mind?! After what he--”
“I am aware of what Cardinal did to me,” Rarity snapped. “But what I saw down there wasn’t him, and I cannot in good conscience condone carrying out a vendetta against somepony who doesn’t even know what she did wrong.”
“What if it’s messin’ with our heads?!” Applejack demanded. “What if this is a trick?”
“What if it’s not?” Fluttershy asked simply. “What if this is real, and right now there is a pony downstairs who’s hurting in ways we couldn’t even imagine? She has no idea why her friends are treating her like this, and she--”
“Quit talkin’ like it’s Twilight, ‘cause it ain’t,” Applejack snapped.
“She’s not,” Fluttershy agreed. “She’s something else entirely, and she doesn’t even know what. She isn’t a pony, but she’s still a unique and intelligent being. She’s a brand new kind of life!”
“It ain’t a life at all,” Applejack insisted. “It’s a rock. Y’all keep talkin’ ‘bout it like it’s a pony, but it don’t breathe like us. It ain’t got a heart or feelin’s or--”
“How do you know?” Rainbow Dash asked, scratching her head. “Look, all of this is way over my head but she looks like a pony. She talks like one. Who’s to say she can’t be--”
“She ain’t Twilight,” Applejack repeated. “She…consarnit, now you got me doin’ it! That thing ain’t Twilight. It ain’t never gonna be Twilight.”
“A lot of ponies aren’t Twilight,” Rainbow Dash replied.
“I….” Applejack hesitated. She didn’t have an answer to that.
“Nopony is expecting her to take Twilight’s place,” Fluttershy said gently, resting a hoof against Applejack. “She could never take Twilight’s place. But she deserves a chance to find a place in this world for herself. This could be her chance to start over and be something more than what Tom was created to be.”
“She might even help us find Twilight,” Rainbow Dash added in agreement.
“She deserves a chance,” Rarity said. “It’s what Twilight would say if she were here.”
“She ain’t here,” Applejack said coldly. “She could be on the far side of the moon for all we know, and y’all are wastin’ time messin’ ‘round with an evil rock instead of findin’ her!”
“We still have this,” Rarity said, levitating the chaos shard. She floated it out towards Applejack. “Why don’t you take it? If anything happens, you could--”
“I ain’t about to be a part of this,” Applejack said coldly, pushing the shard away with her hoof. “And you shouldn’t be neither.”
“Whoa, hold on,” Rainbow Dash interrupted, leaping in front of Applejack. “Of course you’re part of this. You’re part of the group. We do these things together.”
“Not this, Rainbow. Not with that thing down there, and not with….” Applejack gasped suddenly. She blinked and a single tear dripped from her eye. She reached up with her foreleg, wiping it away. For a second, she stared at the offending moisture as though it had insulted her pride.
Rarity stepped towards her, reaching out with a comforting hoof. “Applejack--"
Applejack quickly jerked away from Rarity. “I’m finding Twilight,” she announced, refusing to look at anypony in the group. Before anypony could say another word, she bolted, slamming the bottom half of Fluttershy’s front door open as she went. She made it six paces down the walk from the front door before she stumbled, catching herself to keep from falling.
“AJ!” Rainbow Dash called after her, but Rarity pressed a hoof against the pegasus’s shoulder.
“Let her go,” Rarity said somberly. “She’ll come to us when she’s ready.”
Applejack fled, following the course of the river. She had no destination in mind, but she needed to be away before she snapped even harder at her friends. Why couldn’t they see how important this was? Twilight was missing. For all anypony knew, she could be dead. She could be….
Once Fluttershy’s cottage was out of sight, Applejack stopped. She stared into the water running in the river. She watched as the ripples distorted her reflection, casting her image this way and that. She knew she had no idea where to even begin looking for Twilight, despite her bluster back at the cottage. Truth be told, she didn’t know what she was doing at all. Rarity’s voice still rang in her ears. “It’s what Twilight would do.”
She’s never comin’ back, y’know.
Applejack nodded to her reflection. It wasn’t saying anything she didn’t already know to be true. She’d overstepped her station, plain and simple. Every time she tried to reach beyond her place, it just made everything worse. She knew this. She knew this.
Twilight’s gone, and it’s all my--
No, this wasn’t how she was going to get anything done. First thing she had to do was pick herself up and keep moving, just like she’d always done before. She pushed her doubts to the back of her mind and started marching again. She was going to find Twilight. She had to find Twilight and there wasn’t a force in Equestria that could stop her.
Then…then she’d figure out what she had to do to put this right.
The creak of a door opening interrupted Twilight’s meditation. She opened her good eye to see sunlight spilling down through a trapdoor. A set of stairs led down into the chamber her cage occupied, and with this newfound illumination she could make out bare racks of shelves running along the walls’ wooden paneling.
A pair of bowls lay scattered across the floor, along with a large bag filled with tiny nuts and seeds that sat stacked against the left wall. On the front, the bag read, “Grain Feed’s Nut and Fruit Mix”. Beside it, a rake lay splayed out on the ground. Twilight wondered how long it had gone unused.
“How are the wards holding?” Lyra gracefully descended the stairs, grinning like a jackal. “She found my surprise yet?”
Applejack nodded to the unicorn on approach, never taking her eyes off the cage. “She ain’t tried nothin’ yet. I reckon that’s as close to a royal seal of approval as your spell’s liable to get.”
“Huh. You know, I’m actually disappointed. I thought she’d at least zap herself once. Then you’d say something cool like, ‘Eeyup, ain’t that a shockin’ turn of events, darn tootin’.’ I sort of regret spending so much time researching this spell if she’s not even going to try it. We could have dipped the bars in cake mix and gotten the same results.”
Wait, what did she say? Based on her terrible pun, Lyra appeared to be indicating that her ward would physically electrocute Twilight if she tried to escape, and her phrasing implied that it was an obscure spell. Twilight had previously assumed that Tom had taken the easy route and simply generated a field within his simulated reality to stop her from using magic, but could this actually be Silverhoof’s Repulse?
“Y’got word from Rainbow yet?” Applejack asked. “We don’t get the convoy up and movin’ soon, we’re liable to have Shinin’ Armor breathin’ down our necks ‘fore we know what’s what. There ain’t--”
“--no good takin’ what y’can’t keep,” Lyra finished for her. “I know, I know you--”
“Don’t you sass me,” Applejack said sternly, raising a hoof to silence Lyra. “It’s a stroke of luck brought Twilight Sparkle to us, and it’s gettin’ cocky’s gonna take her away. The war ain’t theirs to win no more, it’s ours to lose, so you go get the girls movin’; I want to be gone by sun-down.”
The war?
Twilight couldn’t help but glance over. There was a war now? Equestria had known invasions from beyond its borders from time to time as well as the occasional cosmic threat, but a war between ponies hadn’t happened in over a thousand years. What could have happened to--
Twilight’s eyes locked on Applejack’s signature Stetson hat, firmly seated atop her head. Wrapped around the crown of the hat, in place of its typical brown brand, Twilight could make out a pink ribbon tied in a bow that she instantly recognized. The sight of the ribbon made her heart stop. “Applejack,” she said without thinking. “Your sister--”
“This ain’t about my sister!” Applejack snapped, whirling on the cage. Behind her, Lyra shook her head slowly, mouthing a silent no to Twilight. “I don’t care what you got Pinkie Pie sayin’ to make you feel better, this ain’t about her and it ain’t about me.” Applejack reared up, slamming a hoof against the bar and holding herself up on her hind legs to loom over Twilight. “It’s you, sugarcube. It’s always been you. You’re what’s wrong with--”
“We’ve gotta go now!” Spike called out, racing down the stairs, yanking Applejack’s attention away. She pushed off the cage and dropped to her forelegs, addressing Spike.
“Is it Rainbow?” Applejack asked.
“She’s in the med tent, she’s--”
“You stay here and watch the Princess,” Applejack barked before Spike could finish. “Lyra, get those gals movin’.” Without another word, Applejack bolted up the stairs into the bright afternoon sunlight, followed swiftly behind by Lyra.
“Spike?” Twilight called out. The dragon didn’t respond. He wouldn’t even look at her. He stared up the stairs, bouncing back and forth from one leg to another. Twilight recognized this behavior. “You’re worried,” she said simply. Taking a shot in the dark, she added, “Worried about Lyra?”
“Don’t talk to me,” Spike replied coldly. At least that had gotten a response out of him.
Fine. If that was how he was going to be, then Twilight felt she’d learned about as much as this particular part of Tom’s fake world had to offer. Lyra’s spell was Silverhoof’s Repulse, and she knew exactly what that meant.
Princess Celestia strode majestically through the halls of Canterlot Castle, her rainbow mane flowing behind her as she walked with elegance and poise. Less elegantly, a young Twilight Sparkle scrambled forward beside her, filling the hall with the echoing cacophony of frantic hooves clicking arrhythmically on marble flooring.
Levitating a book in front of her, Twilight explained, “And it was created by this really cool unicorn named Silverhoof! I’ve heard ponies call her the Star Swirl of her time, but that’s just because she was really smart and she invented a couple of new spells, it wasn’t because she was anything like the Star Swirl.”
“Is that right?” Princess Celestia asked, hiding a bemused smile behind a single white teacup she levitated to her lips.
“See, Silverhoof was worried that if a unicorn ever committed a crime, there’d be no way to stop her without hurting her. How do you imprison a pony who can just use magic to get out of any prison, right? So she came up with this spell that would keep a pony from using her magic to get out!”
“And where did you find this?” Princess Celestia asked politely before adding, “Watch the column, Twilight.”
“Well, they first mentioned it in chapter 27 of Breaking Dawn: The Reign of the Two Sisters Begins. I had to cross-reference it with the Arcane Appendix, but there were surprisingly few mentions of Silverhoof’s work. What little I could find on her Repulse was just a brief mention here or there that it existed, but nothing on how it’s cast. Do you know where I could find more information on--whoa!”
Princess Celestia scooped Twilight up in her magical field, pulling the excited filly towards her just before she had a chance to walk snout-first into a marble column, jutting up from the side of the hall.
Twilight blushed, looking up at her mentor. “I didn’t see it there,” she admitted sheepishly.
“You were excited,” Princess Celestia said with a laugh. “I have some time before court, so why don’t you come down to storage with me? There’s something I’d like to show you. I think it will put all of your questions to bed.”
“Is it a new library?” Twilight asked excitedly as the Princess set her down on her hooves.
“No, Twilight.”
Twilight followed at her teacher’s heels, descending the spiral stairs to the storage chamber. As they walked, she continued to ask questions. “Is it a magical scepter that will let me meet great ponies from the past?”
“No, Twilight.”
“Is it a magic bowl that you put your memories into and then I can jump into the bowl and relive your memories, but in third-person for some reason?”
The princess stopped walking. She shot a confused glance at her pupil and her snout hung open, searching for words.
Hanging her head, Twilight explained, “It was in a book when I was a filly.”
“You are a filly, Twilight.”
The little unicorn rolled her eyes. “I mean a little filly.”
In the storage room, Princess Celestia levitated a large, bronze archway, lifting it out from behind a set of crates. She set the arch down in front of Twilight. “This is what I wanted to show you.”
Twilight blinked twice. “It’s a doorway.”
“Sort of.” The princess’s horn glowed with magic, casting some unknown spell to enchant the arch. Then she asked Twilight, “Why don’t you step through it?”
Twilight stepped into the arch and as soon as she was within, it sprang to life. A speckled blue field burst into existence on the far side, which wrapped around Twilight as she passed. It enveloped her, causing a strange tingling sensation to crawl across her skin, before the field peeled upwards beyond her field of vision.
Suddenly, her horn felt strangely cold. She reached up with a hoof to touch it, but there didn’t seem to be anything amiss.
“Why don’t you try casting a spell?” Princess Celestia proposed. Twilight did as instructed, going for a simple levitation spell to try and lift a small music box sitting in one corner, but nothing happened. She tried again, but once more, her magic failed her. She looked back to Princess Celestia for explanation.
The Princess smiled. “This, Twilight, is a disabling enchantment. It enchants your horn and restricts its magical properties. So long as the spell remains on you, your ability to cast spells is completely revoked. Here, let me get that for you.” The Princess’s horn glowed once more, and Twilight felt the cold abate. Testing her magic, she levitated the music box with little difficulty.
“You can do that?” Twilight asked.
Princess Celestia nodded to her. “We once used these as a security measure in Equestria, to prevent unicorns from using their magic to influence important events. For a period of about two hundred years, you could find disabling spells enchanting doorways at political summits, public transportation carriages, and even some private residences.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Those were darker times when ponies didn’t trust one another the way we do now. These days, you can still find disabling spells here or there, but they’ve become much more scarce. I believe Chalk Scratch’s Institute for Higher Learning still uses them for exams. I know the Friendship Games have been known to employ them a time or two as well.”
Twilight nodded to her teacher, absorbing all of this information, but a question emerged. “What does this have to do with Silverhoof?”
“Silverhoof was a talented unicorn, but she was never very practical. And, I should note, the only pony who called her the Star Swirl of her time back in her day was her. She’d be very pleased to hear that she managed to get that nickname into history.”
Princess Celestia looked up, reflecting on days long past. “She was quite proud of the spell that she’d created, but there were a few flaws in it. For one, her enchantment does little to restrict the casting of spells. Instead, it detects the casting and provides an aggressive response. For another, it was only designed with a few specific spells in mind.
“Teleportation and levitation effects are forbidden, but I still remember the day Night Weaver transmuted herself into a potted fern in defiance of the Repulse. The two were old rivals, you see. Silverhoof attempted to argue that it didn’t matter, because a fern could no more escape a prison cell than a unicorn stripped of magic could.” The Princess laughed at the memory. “Oh, was her face red when Night Weaver proceeded to grasp the sides of her pot with her leaves and hop her way to freedom between the bars!”
Twilight chuckled at the mental image, but she still hadn’t quite seen the point. Princess Celestia continued, “You see, while it is not unheard of for long forgotten magics to be rare and valuable, you will find that more often than not, a spell will become lost to time because whatever utility it’s meant to serve is better found elsewhere. Some things become obscure for a reason, Twilight. Silverhoof’s spell never amounted to quite what she aspired for it to be, and with the advent of the disabling spell, her Repulse became little more than a historical footnote.
“The purpose that every pony strives for is to take what we have now and to make it better for the generations that come after us. Society is built on the achievements of our predecessors. We remember their mistakes, we learn from them, and we build upon them so that we can avoid repeating them. If you looked hard enough, I’m sure you would find historians who recorded her spell in greater detail, but if you want to know why her spell is not a part of the curriculum, then the answer is this archway.”
Twilight took a deep breath, studying the door to the cage. It wasn’t out of the question that she’d cast the disabling spell as well, but given her disappointment earlier, Twilight felt confident that she hadn’t.
Lyra must have believed she was stumbling onto some lost, secret gem of history when she cast these wards. She’d never learned the important lesson Twilight had gotten from Princess Celestia personally: that obscure is not synonymous with better. The idea that a spell’s quality was equivalent to the amount of effort put into finding it was an easy logical trap to fall into.
Of course, Twilight did not have a spell to transmute herself into a potted fern. However, looking at Spike, she might just have the next best thing. “Spike,” Twilight called out once more.
The little dragon was pacing back and forth in front of the stairs. At Twilight’s call, he answered, “Don’t talk to me. We’re not friends.” Twilight could hear the commotion from outside; she didn’t have a lot of time. Glancing at the opening, she knew it was only a matter of time before the others came down here.
Hard way it is, then. Twilight’s horn crackled with magic. She weaved her magic through--
SHHRAAKKK
Lightning arced through the cage from one bar to another, surging through Twilight’s body. It lasted only a second, but it was enough. Her left foreleg gave our and she stumbled to her front set of knees, the focus required to cast anything having been rapidly drained from her. She breathed in ragged, gasping breaths.
The flash of light caught Spike’s attention. “Whoa!” he shouted. “What do you think you’re doing?!”
“Escaping,” Twilight muttered. She struggled to push the weight of her body back up on her forelegs. As soon as she could stand, she weaved her magic once more and--
SHHRAAKKK
Again, the lightning jolted through the cage, and again Twilight found herself wracked with searing pain. She fell sideways, hitting the floor with a thump. For a moment, she saw the blinding colors and impossible geometries from before, but she closed her eyes and pulled away from them. She couldn’t afford another temporally disproportionate vision. Not now.
Spike raced forward, grasping the bars with his claws. “Stop that!” he shouted. “You’re going to hurt yourself!”
Despite the pain still smoldering in her body, Twilight grinned to herself. Spike was in range. Setting her horn glowing once more, Twilight cast a sphere of red light that erupted outwards, enveloping herself and Spike. A beam of red energy flew from her horn to his body, connecting the two.
The first thing to change was Twilight’s midsection. It jerked down in size, yanking her legs together. Claws erupted from her hooves, covered in deep violet scales that proceeded to ripple up the length of her body. The long hairs of her tail fused together into a fleshy mass before the scales covered them. Her mane hardened into plates, each a dark blue with her signature pink and purple stripes around its perimeter.
As the spell abated, Twilight wobbled only for a second before catching herself. Walking on two legs was still an unpleasant experience, but she wasn’t exactly a stranger to it. Spike shook his head, stumbling back from where Twilight had enchanted him, but his part was finished. Twilight took a deep breath, and huffed with all of her might in the direction of the bars.
Her vivid exhalation did little to disturb them.
“What happened?” Spike asked, shaking off the effect. “What did you--” He stopped suddenly, eyes locked on the newly draconic Twilight Sparkle. “APPLEJACK!!!” Spike called out. Without wasting a second, he turned and bolted up the stairs, screaming once more, “APPLEJACK!!!”
Twilight knew she didn’t have much time. How did this work? She thumped herself in the chest, coughed, and then tried again. She successfully belched out a trail of smoke, followed by a series of coughs as she choked on her own embers. Twilight took a moment to clear her mind. This whole thing was going to be pointless if she couldn’t get her fire working.
She closed her eyes and tried to reach down to her core. This function was as alien to her as those weird stubby fingers the humans had, but she’d learned to control those and she could control this too. It was a part of her now and she was the master of her own body. She was Twilight Sparkle. She could--
“What in tarnation?!” Applejack shouted just before Twilight let loose a burst of purple fire. The flames tore through the bamboo bars of her prison, setting the latticework ablaze. The flames crackled, burning through the ropes that held the bars together. She gave the flames a couple of seconds to burn, then ran forwards and threw herself against the bars where the fire was most concentrated.
The bars cracked with her effort, but threw her back into the cage. Much as she’d surmised, her dragonscales shielded her from the heat entirely. Picking herself off the ground, she made another go, launching herself into the bars. She broke through with a cracking sound that echoed through the chamber, hitting the stone floor on the other side on her shoulder.
Now safely beyond the wards, Twilight let out a flash of magic to restore her pony form. “LYRA!” she heard from the top of the stairs, but it was too late. As her scales receded, Twilight cast her teleport and vanished from the basement. She emerged aboveground, just beside the treeline of the Everfree Forest.
“FIND HER!!!” Applejack roared from somewhere nearby. Twilight darted into the forest, using one of its gnarled trees for cover before looking back. In retrospect, she probably should have expected something like this, but the sight that greeted her still managed to shock her.
She could now see the top of the stairs the other ponies had been descending; an area had been cleared away from the wreckage to provide access. The scorched remains of Fluttershy’s cottage stood before her, as black and charred as the library she’d seen earlier today. The upper floor appeared to have collapsed in on the lower, but the wall where Fluttershy’s kitchen should have been had been cleared away and much of the debris removed.
Twilight could see a ring burned into the grass around the cottage; a clear boundary point. The fire had been contained to avoid letting it spread to the fields or forest nearby. Much like the library, this could only have been deliberate; someone destroyed the cottage on purpose, and Twilight had a fairly reasonable estimation as to who.
Applejack bolted from the top of the stairs, flanked by nearly a dozen other ponies. “Spread out!” she ordered, racing towards an assembly of tents in the field behind the house. Twilight could see other ponies busily taking them down. Others loaded chests onto carts, while a pair of pegasus stallions took down a fire pit in the center.
“There’s no time for that!” Twilight watched as Rainbow Dash emerged from one of the tents, leaping in front of Applejack. “I told you, they’re going to be here any minute! Our agent’s stalled them as long as she can, but Shining Armor is on his way here right now and we need to be gone when he gets here.”
Twilight could easily tell that Rainbow Dash had been through a lot in this conflict. There were several scars on her side and down her legs, as well as one patch of hair along her left side that seemed to have been scraped off. Her left wing was scuffed up but she didn’t seem to be too concerned by and, and given the state of her face, it was the least of her issues. A huge scar ran from the side of her snout up across her left eye; the damage seemed severe from what little Twilight could make out around the eyepatch covering it.
“Consarnit, Rainbow, we ‘bout near have her!” Applejack retorted. “We find her, this could be the end of the war!”
“Yeah, and what’s Shining Armor going to do to us if he finds us with her before we’re ready for him? I don’t like running from a fight any more than you do, but this is the Royal Guard we’re talking about. The entire Royal Guard. Rarity’s not going to send two-bit grunts to bring back the Princess, she’s going to hit us with everything she’s got. We’re not ready for this.”
“You’re never going to be ready if you don’t let me see to that wing,” Nurse Redheart chastised Rainbow Dash, following her from the tent.
The nurse reached for the wing, but Rainbow Dash yanked it away from her. “There’s no time for that! We have to go before--”
As if on cue, the sound of a thundering crack split the camp, followed shortly by a trio of blue streaks that tore across overhead. “Wonderbolts,” Rainbow Dash snarled, spitting their name like some hideous curse.
“Oh, that ain’t no good for us,” Applejack replied. “Alright, you win. We have to get a move on, which means I need you in the air. Can you fly?”
“Better than they can, any day.” Rainbow Dash answered, spreading her wings for takeoff.
“Are you out of your mind?!” Nurse Redheart exclaimed. “I haven’t even bandaged--” Before she could finish, Rainbow Dash exploded into the sky, shooting off towards Ponyville faster than Twilight’s eyes could follow.
“Everypony else, load up and get movin’!” Applejack ordered over the camp. “Make for the treeline and stay together. Sunshower, Thunder Streak, you two get flyin’ and keep the Wonderbolts off Rainbow’s back. Smeltin’ Hammer, get your squad ready to cover our exit.”
Watching Applejack order her ponies around brought a smile to Twilight’s face. Despite everything that was different and wrong about this place, it was nice to see that some things hadn’t changed. Applejack was as strong-willed and assertive as the one Twilight knew so well. The greatest paradox Twilight had known in her relationship with Applejack was the way she chafed so strongly against status and the admiration of others, and yet so readily seized the yoke of control in a crisis.
“Double time it, ponies!” Applejack ordered. Pressing her side against a large chest opposite a silver earth pony that Twilight didn’t recognize, Applejack helped to hoist the chest onto the back of a cart. She quickly told the mare, “You’re loaded up. Get a move on, giddyup!” before moving on to help the next pony.
Applejack was confident, charismatic, and quick to take initiative. Although Twilight was a bit biased, she had to admit. She knew that there was a possibility that their relationship had left her unable to view Applejack through a rational lens. Even so, as she watched Applejack spurring on her camp, stepping in to help out herself and make sure that everypony made it out, Twilight felt a warmth in her heart. This was the behavior she’d fallen in--
“It’s the Princess! Twilight Sparkle’s by the treeline!”
Oh, horseapples!
In a burst of magic, Twilight teleported back into Ponyville, landing in front of the flower shop. She needed to find the carriage that brought her here. She’d left it by the library, so if she could just—
SLAM
Twilight was struck in the side, sending her sprawling across the cobblestones. She lit her horn in self-defense, but then she recalled the way her concussive bolt had nearly taken Lyra’s head off earlier in the day. She hesitated, and that was all the advantage Cloud Kicker needed. The light blue pegasus landed on top of her, her face a mask of rage concealed by her blonde hair.
Twilight rolled onto her back, using her forelegs to press up against Cloud Kicker’s frame. Above her, she could see the blue streak of a Wonderbolt peeling off-course and making a beeline down towards her. A flash of a lighter blue slammed into the first streak, knocking it off-course; Twilight had a pretty good idea who that was.
“Your highness!” A voice called out. A spear hurtled past, narrowly grazing Cloud Kicker’s back. She jolted up, and before she could respond, Twilight grasped the pegasus in her telekinetic field and gave her a shove sideways into the wall of the flower shop.
Twilight rolled to her hooves and galloped in the direction of the voice. Never in her life had she been so relieved to see the blue mane and golden armor of a Royal Guardpony. “Over here!” he called out, waving his hoof frantically. Twilight closed distance as fast as she could. He was thirty yards away, then twenty, then--
SHRAKK
A bolt of magic struck the street at the guardpony’s feet and a wave of ice washed over him, rooting him to the spot. Twilight skidded to a stop, then reflexively raised her barrier just as another bolt struck down in front of her. The ice washed forward, but her shield protected her as the air froze in a semicircle around its perimeter.
“End of the line!” Lyra Heartstrings called down to her, perched upon the caved-in roof of Sugarcube Corner.
Twilight’s horn crackled with magic. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she called back.
“Don’t worry. You won’t.” To Twilight’s surprise, Lyra leapt from the roof, plunging three stories straight at her. Twilight darted out of the way and Lyra’s hooves struck the ground, transmuting the cobblestones as she landed into a liquid mudslide. She kept moving, her vertical velocity turning into horizontal momentum. A wall of mud lifted up around the street, blocking Twilight’s avenue of escape as Lyra skated around its perimeter.
Twilight fired off her concussive bolt and watched as an entire section of Lyra’s mudslide exploded on impact, clearing a path for her to dart through. Lyra leapt from the mudslide to cut her off, firing a concussive bolt from her horn. The shot hit Twilight in her haunches as she leapt through the hole, sending her spinning sideways and scraping her side against the cobblestones.
Twilight looked up to see Lyra soar gracefully through the same hole. She focused her magic and projected a freezing ray from her horn. Lyra flashed a barrier, deflecting the spell. Her horn crackled with magic as she reared up on her hind--
A blue streak slammed into Lyra, smashing her through Sugarcube Corner’s front door. Twilight wasted no time climbing to her hooves. She cast a shaped cone of pure heat on the ice restraining her guardpony, thawing him out after a few seconds of concentrated casting.
“We have to get out of here,” Twilight urged him.
“I couldn’t agree more,” answered a voice from the sweet shop’s doorstep. Twilight vaguely recognized the yellow pegasus leaping down the stairs to join her.
“Spitfire, right?”
“Yes, ma’am. Your wife asked me to keep you out of trouble.”
Twilight blinked. It took her a moment to realize that Spitfire was talking about Rarity. That’s right, she was married to Rarity here for some strange--a crashing sound in the distance brought her back to the urgency of the situation. She pushed that mystery to the back of her mind for processing later.
“How bad is it?” Twilight asked Spitfire as they raced for the carriage. Her other guardpony, secured in the harness, waved frantically for the trio to hurry.
“Their fliers are harassing my ponies, but most of them are harmless. The worst they can do is distract. But there’s one of them that’s dangerous. I’ve got three of my best fliers trying to keep her occupied, but our window’s closing fast. If we don’t get you out of here soon, we might not get the chance.”
“What about my brother?” Twilight asked, leaping into the carriage. As soon as her other guardpony could secure himself, the pair took off into the sky. Twilight braced herself against the side as the carriage jolted upwards, streaking into the skies over Ponyville.
“He’s not going to make it in time. We tried to mobilize, but something went wrong. The transport ship scuttled itself in dock. Princess Rarity thinks we might have a saboteur in our ranks.”
A saboteur. Tom’s reality became more and more complicated with each passing hour. “We’ll deal with that when the time comes,” Twilight said, trying to sound authentic. She was starting to get a handle on this place, and there was no sense upsetting the one side of the conflict that didn’t want her in chains.
“I’m sure you will,” Spitfire answered. She soared faithfully beside the carriage, keeping between it and the town.
Within minutes, they were beyond Ponyville’s limits. Twilight took one last look back at the destroyed town. Even knowing that this was fake, her heart still broke for the devastation that had been caused. Tom had given her a lot of heartaches today. “Were you here when it happened?” she asked, trying to sound casual.
“No, ma’am,” Spitfire answered her. “We were the first line deployed after Princess Celestia found out what was happening. Tirek tore through us before he even made it to Appleoosa.”
Tirek. If Twilight had any doubts about the fabricated nature of this place, that sealed it. That doesn’t even sound like a real pony’s name.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Twilight said simply. “…how much do you know about--”
Twilight was interrupted by a flash of color splitting the horizon. A circle of light projected outwards, framing the ruins of her hometown with every color on the visible spectrum. The next couple of seconds seemed to happen in slow motion.
A rainbow streak barreled in the direction of the carriage, splintering the visible light spectrum as it flashed across the sky. Spitfire peeled off from the carriage, rocketing off to intersect. Twilight could barely make out the point where the two collided; the impact forced the rainbow streak only a hair off-course.
The rainbow blew over Twilight’s head, rocking the carriage and sending her guardponies tumbling through the sky. She scrambled to wrap her forelegs around the side of the carriage as the boom struck, trailing in the rainbow’s wake. A deafening crack shattered Twilight’s ears, while the rainbow moved unimpeded, carrying Spitfire until it crashed into the mountain on which Canterlot once sat.
“SPITFIRE!!!” Twilight shouted as her senses struggled to return to her. With the sound wave still ringing her ears, she had no idea how loud or how quiet she had spoken; moreover, she knew Spitfire was already well beyond a reasonable distance to hear her, but an emotional reflex held back for no rational logic.
The streak Twilight knew to be Rainbow Dash’s Sonic Rainboom spiraled downwards after hitting the mountain, before eventually colliding with the ground. Twilight had no idea if Spitfire was down there or if she’d been knocked away somewhere else, and either thought chilled her heart.
She didn’t know Spitfire well; she vaguely knew of her through Rainbow Dash, and didn’t really count her among her friends. But she knew exactly what would have happened to her and her carriage if Rainbow Dash had made her shot, and the thought of what Spitfire may have sacrificed to protect her chilled her to the bone. Was this what it meant to govern?
As her guardponies found their bearings and the carriage righted itself, Twilight breathed in ragged gasps, curling herself up against its seat.
This wasn’t a mystery. This was a nightmare.
I want to go home.