Dear Princess Celestia,
I know I’ve never written about bits before—
Something startled Twilight from her writing, and she jerked suddenly into a sitting position. It was Spike, standing in the doorway.
“We, uh…” He slipped through the door into Twilight’s office. “Rarity’s here to see you.”
“Let her in.” Twilight had already put away Regolith’s note—she wanted to burn it, but didn’t know if that might have some other consequence she didn’t know about.
Rarity was wearing a dignified jacket and hat, nothing at all to set her apart from the way other ponies around might dress. “Do you mind if I have a private word with Twilight, dear? I would be incredibly grateful.”
“Anything for you, Rarity,” Spike muttered. Then the door shut in his face.
Rarity reached into her jacket, removing a sheet of oversized paper from inside. It looked like the sort she kept around her studio, where patterns were sketched. Only this one had Rarity’s dense writing on the surface, located in a single tiny square.
It was a transcription of the box lid, captured perfectly:
To heal the ravaged soul the blood must find—a black root of Moly, powdered fine. Combine with mountain copper, deep below, until the ice has stopped its flow. What was destroyed by darkness is restored by the first touch of dawn.
“You shouldn’t have been there, Twilight.”
“I know.” But she couldn’t muster the effort to pretend she felt guilty about it, not after the confirmation she got from Applejack. Twilight had saved Rarity’s life. Nothing else mattered.
“It makes this part simple. I don’t have to invent some plausible reason why we need to create this potion.” She tapped the sheet with one hoof. “Blood we have. The other ingredients… not so much.”
“I recognize them,” Twilight said. “Moly is an herb—though most scholars agree it doesn’t exist. Black roots underground, white flowers above. Supposedly it kills anyone who tries to pick it.”
“Mysterious, deadly, extinct plant,” Rarity muttered. “Black roots, white flowers. I’ll see what I can find. How about a division of labor? I’ll take care of the herb. The other one sounded more… esoteric. Mountain copper?”
“Easy.” Twilight smiled in spite of herself. She’d memorized the riddle the instant she saw it—she didn’t need a transcription. Twilight gestured towards one of the oldest, least-checked-out books in her library, sitting on the desk beside her. It only had a single stamp.
“Unknown and Impossible Locales of Equestria, An Illustrated Guide to Pre-Celestian Mythology.” Rarity’s eyebrows went up. “Mountain copper is in there?”
“Yep. It’s the stuff Kumari was made from. The… home of the unicorn sorcerers who moved the sun before Celestia?” She flipped the book open with her magic, to the bookmarked page. “Its proper name was Orichalcum—deep red metal, stronger than anything we can forge today.”
“But… Kumari sunk into the ocean, didn’t it? Frozen over by the glaciers of the Windigos.”
Twilight nodded. “Apparently there’s some truth to that story, given the rest of the riddle. I’m guessing there’s some kind of… chemical reaction involved, which needs to be cooled by icy water.”
Rarity sighed. “Twilight, do you… think there’s any reason we ought to trust to those old stories? Have you verified their sources?”
Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “You think Regolith lied? This potion isn’t real?”
“Vampires can lie. I’m not sure why he would, rather than just killing both of us. But there’s nothing stopping him.”
Twilight shook her head. “It’s not just this. I really went to the Underworld, Rarity. I wasn’t saying that to try and calm you down. I swear it was real. I could take you to the entrance right now… but I shouldn’t. It won’t help with this. Besides… I need to talk to that vampire. Find out what they want.”
“Nothing good,” Rarity said. “Never anything good. If they’re in Regolith’s court, they’re certainly registered with the Crown. But don’t let that convince you they wouldn’t do terrible things. They don’t see the world the way ordinary ponies do. They’re not afraid of violence, and the rules that govern their behavior are… old. They’re almost always much older than they look, and dangerously skilled.”
“I’m not fighting them,” Twilight exclaimed. “Just… repaying a debt. Incurred by… a vampire. Piece of cake.”
Rarity laughed, but there was no humor in it. Twilight understood why—it wasn’t her life that was most in danger if Twilight failed. It was Sweetie Belle’s “You aren’t going to bring Spike along, are you?”
“I… I don’t know if I have a choice. I keep promising I’ll take him with me, next place I go. But—”
Rarity stuck out a hoof. “Let me worry about it, dear. Sweetie Belle and I want you to be at your best for whatever mission Regolith had in mind for you. I’m sure I can distract your assistant for an afternoon. Somepony recently bought my centerpiece. I’ll have to put together something equally beautiful.”
Twilight winced. She’d left that centerpiece hanging on an oversized mixer in a donut shop. Thousands and thousands of bits, gone in an instant. “Right. Sorry about that, Rarity. I wish last night could’ve gone… smoother.”
“So do I, darling. So do I.”
Twilight Sparkle wished she had Rarity’s experience and gear to prepare for a mission like this. Her friend had obviously been working in her field for long enough that she knew what to do—knew the perfect mix of tools and magic to make the mission as easy as possible.
But Twilight had no armor sewn into fashionable outfits. She had no compact tools and weapons that could all be packed away in a single slim case. Just her horn, a mostly-empty set of saddlebags, and her curiosity.
Fluttershy was a vampire, powerful and important enough that perhaps the most dangerous creature Twilight had ever met had owed her a favor. I don’t know anyone. First Applejack is an immortal servant of Death. Rarity hunts vampires, and Fluttershy is one. How much of this did you know, Celestia?
And there was another dread, one she didn’t even want to think about.
Fluttershy’s cabin ought to have taken on some new, ominous caste. But there was no lightning flashing above it, or stench of old blood. There was the house, and the little paddock for her animal friends, and the forest never far away. A charming little house for a charming little pony who preferred her solitude.
Twilight usually brought some pretense when she visited her friend—a snack, or some new book about animals, or a question about dragon care she didn’t really need answered. But today she hadn’t bothered. There would be no disguising this mission.
I guess I shouldn’t be that surprised after last night. Regolith had a magical draw that made him hard to look away from. Fluttershy did the same thing when Rarity made her a model. That wasn’t exactly the only instance that stood out in Twilight’s mind, but it was one of the most interesting. And the stare.
She can’t be one of the ancient ones. Rainbow Dash knew her when they were younger.
Twilight reached the door. She sniffed, searching for something strange—but there was just the usual mix of animal musk. She might’ve been terrified of that heady mix of predator scents, years ago. But Fluttershy’s friends were gentle, friendly creatures. So far as Twilight knew, none of them had ever attacked anypony.
She knocked. There was some rustling around from inside, and Fluttershy’s head emerged through a thin crack in the door. “T-Twilight? You aren’t the, uh… sorry.” The door clicked closed. Fluttershy’s voice continued through the wood, muffled. “You, umm… maybe could you come back tomorrow? I’m… kinda expecting somepony today, and I don’t know if they’d be comfortable with somepony else around. If you, uh… wouldn’t mind.”
It was exactly the sort of excuse Twilight had heard from her friend a hundred times before. Only this time, she knew what it meant.
“I don’t have to come in,” Twilight said, though she didn’t mean it. “I just want to show you something. If you could just open the door a crack, I can be out of your mane.”
“Uh… sure, Twilight. I guess I can do that.” The door opened again, and Fluttershy poked her head out. Now that Twilight was trying to look, she could see every window in the cabin had been curtained off. Without the door it would’ve been pitch black in there. Beyond all but a batpony’s vision. “What is it?”
Twilight opened her saddlebag, and levitated the letter out so Fluttershy could see the wax seal. “I think I’m the pony you’re expecting.”
What happened next was over so fast Twilight couldn’t even react. The door banged open all the way, with enough force to leave a dent in the wood. Fluttershy reached out, wrapping one leg around Twilight and yanking her backward.
It was every bit as forceful as an earth pony’s attack, such an abrupt backward pressure that she fell over sideways, sliding with a yelp along Fluttershy’s floor.
The door snapped closed with a loud bang, and Twilight’s guess about the light was confirmed. She was suddenly blind, laying sprawled on the wood floor of Fluttershy’s cabin, with animal smells all around her and her friend somewhere in the gloom.
“I was very clear with Regolith,” Fluttershy said, her voice every bit as forceful as Twilight had ever heard it. “Nopony was to impersonate my friends, or manipulate them in any way. They’re off-limits. Whoever you are, I want to hear your good reason. Unless you want to meet my other friends.”
Twilight lit up her horn in a single, blinding flash of white light, as bright as she could summon. She rose to her hooves in a single, quick motion, spreading her legs a little so she couldn’t be swept off them so easily next time. A fighting stance, though she didn’t know how to fight. “It’s me, Fluttershy. I’m an Alicorn, and I’m really not in the mood to have the runaround for the third day in a row.” She kept her horn glowing, though she knew she wouldn’t be able to use any of her magic against Fluttershy if it came to that.
Twilight could do many things—survive the Underworld, fight vampires on a train, reason with an ancient monster. Attacking Fluttershy was just not on the list.
There was no mistaking Fluttershy’s bared fangs, or the animalistic hiss as she retreated from the light. That flash brought growls from all around, as though dozens of Fluttershy’s animal friends were lurking unseen.
“You can’t be,” Fluttershy said. “Twilight doesn’t know about this. She’s better off that way… without knowing about me.”
“I found out,” Twilight said. “Thanks to this.” She held up the letter again, opening it so the cutie mark drawing inside would be visible. “I got involved in…” She realized suddenly that she wasn’t sure how much of Rarity’s secret she should share. The unicorn hadn’t said anything about it—but Twilight had only got her and her sister into danger by speaking up about them so far.
“I think I may’ve gotten in a little over my head.” Her ears flattened, and she looked down. “But it doesn’t matter how it happened. I owe Regolith, and apparently he owes you? So here I am, to settle things for him. That way he doesn’t hurt anypony.”
“But…” Fluttershy stared down at the letter, eyes studying the seal. “You shouldn’t—you can’t—”
“I’m a princess now,” Twilight said, her voice weak. “I’ve learned a lot of things I didn’t know about. Been places that shouldn’t be real, fought things that…” She shook her head. “I’m sorry I’m not the one you expected, Fluttershy. But I’m the one Regolith sent to repay his debt. Tell me what I have to do.”
Fluttershy turned away, ignoring Twilight’s stare of anger and frustration. “You can’t help me, Twilight. I don’t know what you think you know, but it isn’t enough. This is too dangerous for you. You should go home and forget we ever had this conversation.”
“Too dangerous for me? Fluttershy, I’m an Alicorn now. I fought Nightmare Moon—I went to the Underworld and spoke with Death. We stopped Discord. And…” She hesitated. “You know about Sweetie Belle?”
Fluttershy didn’t answer at first, but Twilight saw her tense in recognition. Fluttershy had never been a good flier, and that also meant she hadn’t trained her wings. They betrayed her now as they always had. “I know.”
“Regolith is going to kill her,” Twilight said. “If I don’t pay his debt. Those are the stakes.”
Fluttershy spun around, eyes widening with shock and pain. She might be undead—Twilight wasn’t sure about that yet. But she was no monster. “You can’t help me,” Fluttershy pleaded, her voice desperate and pained. “Nothing living can go where we need to travel. That’s why I wanted a court Vanguard. A pony who wasn’t vulnerable.”
“Oh, is that it?” Twilight laughed. “I’m pretty sure I can’t die.”