The mist faded, taking the visions of the past with it. The machinery that made up the praeteritorium fell silent and the platform began to move again, back the way they had come. Scootaloo and her friends were silent as the Librarian focused.
Scootaloo kept picturing Discord as he’d appeared in the memory: laughing, dangerous, and unquestionably evil. A cold weight had settled into the pit of her stomach.
Discord knew that Libiris was unsealed. He knew that whatever magic had been locked away was up for grabs. Scootaloo had been the one to tell him, when she’d recounted the events that had lead to his release. He hadn’t mentioned knowing of the place. If he’d really changed, wouldn’t he have said something?
“Why did Rosalia help?” Mimic asked, breaking the silence.
“Hmm?” The Librarian turned to look at her.
“When Discord showed up, Rosalia went from hating the Archive to helping him,” Mimic said. “She knew sealing Libiris wouldn’t keep Discord from winning. Why would she help the Archive escape like that?”
The Librarian shook his head. “The Archive did not escape. Understand, Libiris was not built to be a vault. Not in the way it was used, at least. It was meant to safeguard knowledge in the face of calamity. To weather the end of civilization. The Archive sealed it early, to keep Discord out. The Eternal Spirit of Knowledge locked away the greatest collection of information ever seen. When Rosalia understood what he was asking of her, I imagine she realized how important it was that Discord be kept out.”
“The Archive didn’t survive, did he?” Scootaloo asked, thinking back. Discord had told them before that he and Nocturne were immortal. That only thing could kill them was acting against their nature.
The Librarian shook his head. “Neither myself nor any of the keepers were there at the time. We were already deep within Libiris, preparing to sleep for as long as it remained sealed. I have not seen any sign of him, however. I can only imagine he was unmade by such a significant action.”
Scootaloo frowned. She didn’t know why she would be sad. She never met him, and he died over a thousand years before she was born, but she was anyway. She could still see Discord, the grin spreading across his face as he realized there was nopony left to challenge him.
“With the Archive gone, and Libiris opened once again, the time may come that we must defend it ourselves,” the Librarian said. “We have been fortunate so far. None of the spirits that would come to claim the magic Discord once sought seem to have realized it, and that has given us a chance to wake and remember. What we need now is to learn more.”
The platform came to a stop in one of the long, curved tunnels that connected to the larger hangar like storage room. The Librarian led them through a door and into a room with familiar looking table-like devices, each set with a crystal lense. They were the same devices the Librarian had used to log Spike’s comic during their first visit.
On the side of each table was a drawer. The smaller deer creature, one of the Archive’s seekers, Scootaloo guessed they were called, moved toward one. She hadn’t said a word since Scootaloo and her friends had arrived, had hardly moved from the Librarian’s side, and Scootaloo had nearly forgotten about her.
The seeker pulled open the drawer and dipped her head inside. A moment later she pulled out a pad of old, browned paper and placed it on the table. A bottle of ink and a quill followed the paper.
“I have not made introductions, have I?” the Librarian asked, shaking his head. “I am sorry. My time waiting in Libiris has not done any favors to my memory. This is Coco. My personal assistant, I believe would be the term. She is here to take notes. Because, well, my time waiting in Libiris and so on.”
“Uh, nice to meet you, Coco,” Thistleroot said.
The doe hesitated, gaze moving to Thistleroot as he addressed her. “Knaadehkc.”
“Knaadehkc,” Thistleroot said, smiling. “You don’t speak Equestrian, do you?”
“Hu etay fryd oui cyet,” Coco answered.
“Oh, right,” the Librarian said, chuckling softly. He turned, and the doe backed away, facing him. He lowered his head so that his antlers were on either side of hers, and the points began to spark with green energy. Coco closed her eyes, wincing, and then the light faded. The Librarian straightened and stepped away.
Coco turned back to the ponies. She hesitated, mouth half opened, and then she said in a soft, halting voice, “Hello. I am... pleased... to meet you?”
There was brief silence broken by Thistleroot asking in a flat voice, “What?”
“Did you just learn Equestrian?” Scootaloo asked, face going from a slack look of shock to a bewildered smile. “That’s awesome! Oh, do me, do me! Can you teach me your language? No, wait! Teach me changeling! Or dragon!”
The Librarian smiled softly. “I am afraid it does not work that way.”
“Oh,” Scootaloo said, the smile faltering. She shrugged, and then noticed a mumbling sound coming from behind her. She turned to see Thistleroot sitting back on his haunches, whispering quietly to himself.
“...taught her Equestrian in seconds you can’t just transfer knowledge with magic like that it’s not that easy at least three natural laws of magic have to be rewritten this changes everything we know about mind magic it’s not even just the words she sounded natural something like that should fry your brain but she seems just fine and they act like it’s just another day like it wasn’t grossly impossible...”
“I think he’s broken,” Mimic said.
“He’ll be fine in a minute,” Scootaloo said. “Why wouldn’t it work on us?”
“It is because we... Caagan... Knowledge Seekers, are connected to Libiris,” Coco said, her halting voice becoming more sure with each second. “We are capable of knowing that which is stored within the Archive. Some knowledge is harder to know than others. I’m not experienced enough to know a language on my own, so the Gaaban, the Keeper, helped me.”
“Ponies call me Librarian,” the Librarian said, “but other than that, well done. You handle knowledge well, little one.” He turned back toward Scootaloo, and Coco picked up the quill in her teeth. “Now then.”
“Discord was defeated a few months after Libiris was sealed,” Scootaloo said. “He and Nocturne were both imprisoned for most of the thousand years since, but they were both freed a year ago, when we first showed up. We don’t know anything about any of the other spirits.” She swallowed, and then continued, “Discord knows that Libiris was opened. He’s known for almost a year.”
*****
Scootaloo, Thistleroot, and Mimic made their way back through the forest surrounding Libiris almost an hour later, following a short ways behind Rare Breed and Triplicate. The three of them had told the Librarian most everything they could think of about Discord and Nocturne, though Scootaloo had skipped a few details, like the fact that she’d been the one to free Discord and tell him about Libiris. She told herself those details wouldn’t affect how well the Librarian could protect Libiris, but guilt gnawed at her anyway.
They’d found Rare Breed and Triplicate waiting for them in the main room. Triplicate had spent the time making a list of the different books and field guides they’d brought with them, marking each on a scale of one to ten on how important it was, and putting stars next to the ones he thought they could spare for access to Libiris.
Rare Breed had spent the time sketching in one of the journals he’d brought. By the time Scootaloo and the others had returned, he had a pair of surprisingly accurate pictures of the Librarian and the first seeker they’d encountered outside. Scootaloo couldn’t help but notice the money signs drawn in the margin.
“We’re still a little ahead of schedule, given how quickly we were able to find Lignum Viventum-006-1,” Triplicate was saying. “We can schedule a—”
A sudden gasp interrupted him, and the group looked back at Thistleroot. He was backing toward the side of the trail, eyes wide, looking out into the forest. Scootaloo turned, crouching and looking for whatever danger he’d spotted, but the trees around them were still. “What?”
“Lion!” Thistleroot squeaked. “There was a lion. Right over there. It was huge!”
“Oh, for goodness sake,” Rare Breed said. “There aren’t any lions in these forests. They aren’t native to any place close by.”
“Maybe it was a manticore,” Mimic said, not relaxing from her own ready position just yet.
“Not native either,” Rare Breed said. “At any rate, if there is some large predator out there, we’ll be fine as long as we stay in a group, and nopony starts limping and bringing up the rear.” He turned and started walking again. “Remember, they’re more afraid of you than you are of them.”
*****
“Remember, they’re more afraid of you than you are of them,” the brown pony said as he began walking again. The others followed, though the blue unicorn and the two pegasi all gave one last look into the forest.
Law watched them go, hidden within the branches of a tree well above where they were looking, and gave a small smile. As though anything would be afraid of a pony.
She’d seen what she’d needed. The orange pegasus wasn’t anything special, per se, but she’d already entered Libiris. Discord had simply chosen a pony with a head start. Typical. She would have to choose her own champion quickly, lest Discord’s unwitting pawn take the prize before anyone else began playing.
One of the other ponies, perhaps? No. None of them had the right temperament. She would have to find somepony close, one who could be trusted with the truth of what was at stake.
Once the sounds of the ponies had faded, Law took flight. Time was of the essence, now more than before.
*****
Rare Breed and Triplicate decided to go for food, since nopony had bothered to fill their shared house’s cupboards yet. Scootaloo considered going with them, but there were things she needed to discuss privately with her friends. Thistleroot and Mimic followed her lead, and the three of them made their way back.
“So,” Mimic said, “any thoughts on what we’re going to do?”
Scootaloo frowned. “I guess we should talk to Discord.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Thistleroot asked. “He uh... well, you saw it too.”
“Yeah,” Scootaloo said. “But that was a long time ago. He’s changed.” She paused and then shook her head. “He’s probably changed. Even if he hasn’t, he already knows that Libiris is open. How much damage could talking to him do?”
Thistleroot groaned. “You never ask ‘how bad could it be’! Come on, Scootaloo.”
Scootaloo grinned. “Oops.” They’d reached the house and she quickly unlocked the door and lead them in.
Discord and Nocturne were in their living room.
Discord was standing, stretched to his full height, lifting the ugly pink couch upside down and pressing it to the ceiling. A bucket labeled “sovereign glue” with a paintbrush sticking out of it sat on the floor beside him. Nocturne watched him, sitting back in a dignified pose, her dark blue and green ethereal mane drifting gently, with the faintest hint of a smile on her face.
“Oh, Scootaloo,” Discord said, yanking his arms away and putting them behind his back. “You’re home early.” A few seconds of surprised silence later, the couch fell with an audible pop and landed on his head. There was a puff of smoke and when it cleared, the couch had been returned to its normal position with Discord sitting on top of it. The glue can disappeared in another puff.
“Uh, hi, Discord,” Scootaloo said.
“What’s she doing here?” Mimic asked, venom creeping into her voice as she lifted her chin toward the first changeling queen. Nocturne’s gaze focused on the smaller changeling, and though Mimic met her eyes without blinking, Scootaloo could see the sudden stiff set of her friend’s legs and shoulders.
“Caa? Cra ec cdemm syt,” Nocturne said.
Discord waved a dismissive paw toward her. “Now, now, everypony, play nice. All of that enemy nonsense is behind us, right?”
“Why are you here?” Mimic asked, addressing Nocturne directly this time.
Nocturne gave a small smile. It looked graceful, almost like the warm smiles Scootaloo had seen Celestia give her. It reminded her of the Nocturne they’d seen in the praeteritorium, laughing with Cinder and the Archive.
“Mimic. I wish to speak with you alone. Walk with me.” Scootaloo was surprised at the tone of her voice, missing the echoing qualities she’d first heard Nocturne speak with, as well as the royal we. Nocturne wasn’t putting on airs.
Mimic opened her mouth, presumably to say no, but then hesitated, glancing to Scootaloo and Thistleroot, and then to Discord. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”
“Well,” Nocturne said slowly, as though pondering the question, “ordinarily, perhaps. There is certainly no question that I could make you, but,” Nocturne glanced back at Discord, and then tilted her head, “doing so would render you ineffectual, in the long term. If you will not walk with me of your own accord, then I will simply go.”
“Just like that,” Mimic said, frowning.
“Discord has told me stories,” Nocturne said, “of creatures called Sombra and Tirek, of his own attempts at taking over. And it is clear that you are a friend of the ponies. I am not one to repeat the mistakes of others, certainly not out of petty spite.”
Mimic hesitated for just a second longer and then her shoulders relaxed. “Fine.” She turned back to the door, and then looked over her shoulder, “Put something else on. Nopony here knows I’m a changeling, and I want to keep it that way.”
Scootaloo expected anger from Nocturne at being spoken to that way, but her smile stayed in place and with a whisper of power she’d taken the form of a tall, jet black pegasus pony with an icy blue-green mane.
Mimic sighed and turned to Scootaloo. “I’ll be right back.”
Scootaloo nodded, and the changelings departed.
“She’ll be okay, right?” Thistleroot asked.
“She should be,” Discord said, sounding bored. “Nocturne’s always been a weird one. She actually likes it when her underlings stand up for themselves. She says it means she did something right.”
“Well, if she wants changelings to be tough, she’s talking to the right one,” Scootaloo said. She turned back to Discord and hesitated. “It’s uh, it’s funny you happened to show up. We actually wanted to talk to you.”
“Oh?” Discord said, leaning forward and resting his chin in his paws, “do tell?”
“Well,” Scootaloo said, trying to calm her nerves. He’d changed. “We wanted to talk to you about Libiris.”
“What a coincidence,” Discord said, leaning back and clapping his paws together. “That’s why I came here.”
“To get into Libiris?” Thistleroot asked, voice shaking.
“No, to talk to you about it. Well, to talk to her.” He turned his attention back to Scootaloo. “I’m guessing you know why Libiris was sealed in the first place.”
Scootaloo nodded. “To keep you out.”
“And now that it’s opened again, you’re worried that I’m going to resume my plans of Equestrian domination?”
“Are you?”
Discord snapped his talons, and Scootaloo winced despite herself. A roll of glowing golden paper spun into existence beside him. He grabbed it, unfurled it with a roll of his wrist, and held it out. Scootaloo approached, eyebrow raised, and started reading.
“This contract binds all signatories into an agreement of non-aggression to be described for an unending period of time, or until this contract is voided by an agreement of the part of a majority of... what the hay am I reading?”
“A magically binding contract,” Discord said, his voice filled with the disgust Scootaloo usually reserved for cockroaches and make-up.
Scootaloo leaned around the contract to look up at him. “You wrote a contract?”
“Oh, don’t be absurd. It was hard enough just signing it. Luckily, T—” Discord cut off with a gag, and then made a sound of displeasure. He pointed with his free paw to the bottom of the contract. Scootaloo saw his name, and to the right of it in the same writing, her own name. The space above and below the names were blurred, as though she was looking at them through a fogged window.
“One of the stipulations,” Discord said. “Someone refused to sign until we added it. Thought it would give h—” He scowled and tossed the contract aside. It bounced against the wall and vanished. “Stupid little...” he muttered under his breath, “The things I do for...” He breathed, and continued, “Someone wanted to keep what that person thought was an advantage. The contract keeps any of us from telling our champions about the other signers or their champions.” He paused, as though surprised he hadn’t been cut off.
“Telling their what now?” Scootaloo asked, trying to keep up.
“Huh? Oh, right. I can’t enter Libiris. I, along with the other eternal spirits, signed a legally binding contract so that most of us can’t set hoof inside. And then I switched every other book in Princess Twilight’s Library. That got me feeling a bit more like myself.” He chuckled at the memory.
“Oh,” Thistleroot said, breathing a sigh of relief. “So there’s nothing to worry about. He can’t go get the whatever it is.”
“Nope,” Discord said, vanishing and reappearing beside Scootaloo, draping an arm around her shoulders. “You’re going to get it for me.”
Scootaloo didn’t let herself react right away. She took a moment to breath and think. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Thistleroot asked. “Are you crazy?”
“I want to know what your after,” Scootaloo said. “I want to know why you all signed that contract and why it has my name on it. And then I want to know what you actually want.”
Discord arched an eyebrow and gave her his best innocent smile.
“If you wanted to manipulate somepony into bringing you something you couldn’t get yourself, I would be your last choice,” Scootaloo said. “So tell me the truth, or get out.”
Discord’s fake smile turned into a real one, and he pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. “They grow up so—”
“Discord!”
“Alright, alright, yeesh.” Discord rolled his eyes. “Inside Libiris, there is an artifact. The most powerful magic I know of.”
He snapped his talons, and the living room around them changed. The floor became mossy earth. The walls and ceiling became a natural cave. Between Scootaloo and Discord was a twisted column of roots. It was thicker near the floor and ceiling, and thinner at the middle. At its thinnest point, crystal showed beneath the roots, glowing with a pink so light it was almost white. It wasn’t a steady glow, it waxed and waned in a way that reminded Scootaloo vaguely of the beating of a heart.
“It’s called the Heart of Creation,” Discord said. “More than half a dozen ancient spirits are after it, and whoever gets it will rule the world.”