//------------------------------// // Chapter 4.2: Prismatic // Story: Secrets of the Mane Six // by Starscribe //------------------------------// The metal door squeaked so loudly as Twilight pushed against it that it didn’t even need a bell. The interior was dark, barely lit thanks to the light that reflected through the single grimy window. “Hello?” The door swung shut the instant Spike let go of it, almost a little too fast. Twilight spun around quickly, but no, there was no sign of anypony there. She lit her horn with violet light, spinning back around and surveying the rest of the building. There was a glass shelf running along one wall, containing various bits of jewelry and other artifacts. What she’d seen through the mirror, the gigantic model, dominated that entire half of the building. There was a single doorway maybe twenty feet away, and dirty black cloth hung across it, blocking whatever was beyond. “We’d like to speak with somepony!” Twilight called, raising her voice just a little. “I promise we’ll be as brief as we can! And we’ll make a generous donation!” She could hear motion from behind the curtain—shuffling, something heavy scraping on the floor. Twilight winced as she heard it, preparing a defensive spell in case she needed it. She counted to ten, then shrugged and started looking around while she waited. “This thing is pretty neat,” Spike said, pointing at the model. It was actually surprisingly intricate, the one thing she’d seen in town so far that looked like it might’ve actually had some love put into it. It looked like something out of ancient pony history, with huge carved columns holding up a stone roof with shards of splayed glass arranged in the front like splashing waves. A huge temple stood in the very center, or maybe a palace, with lots of homes and shops on various levels with no streets to connect them. Makes sense. Does look a little like Cloudsdale. Except most ponies used cotton balls in their cloud models. They were incredibly easy, and didn’t need magic to maintain. She could tell at a glance that the city model wasn’t made of real clouds thanks to the layer of grime that coated its reverse side. Where it didn’t face a potential visitor, it was gray instead of white. The curtains rustled in the doorway, and a pony emerged. A mare, wearing thick robes that covered her all the way to her face. At least Twilight could see the eyes of the pony she was speaking to. “Welcome to the historical society,” the pony said, approaching her and pushing back her hood a little. Her mane didn’t seem quite right—like she’d used way too much gel, and it was forming a ridge right down the middle. She also didn’t blink. “My name is Open Record. We don’t get many visitors.” “I guess not,” Twilight said, extending a hoof politely. At this point she half-expected Open to slip a dagger from her robe and try to stab her, muttering some evil ritual all the while. But no, nothing like that happened. She shook her hoof, finding it felt just a little damp but otherwise normal. “I’m Twilight. I was hoping you could tell me about something.” “Of course.” Record walked back around to the glass case. “All our artifacts are here. I have a shelf in back with the town gazette going back five centuries. Along with the other things we don’t like to display out in the open.” She didn’t elaborate, her smile straining a little. “What would you like to know?” “I’m looking for Orichalcum,” Twilight said. “I-information about it, I mean. Most of Equestria thinks it’s mythical.” “Because it is!” Open exclaimed, her voice just a tad too rushed. “Obviously. Interesting myths, of course. Ancient ponies can be confounding to try and understand. They turned their daily lives into myths, so they made more sense, that’s what ponies say.” “They did,” Twilight muttered, though she wasn’t sure how true it really was. Half of the old myths she’d researched ended up being true in the end. Often so true that they returned to threaten Equestria. “What do the myths say about it?” “That it was the most magical metal,” Open Record said, relaxing a little into the familiar role. “It was said to never rust or tarnish, to amplify any spell that passed through it, and to make the best enchanted objects. It was used for religious purposes too…” She walked over to the model, lifting the roof off a spiral building near the center with one hoof. There was a rusty red metal floor inside, with chairs spread around it. Not the real thing, but she could see the vague similarity to what she was carrying. It lacked the sparkle, or the reverberation when she pushed against it with her magic. “The ancient city used it in the temple, see here? Kumari’s ponies all visited at every important day, because of the power of the magic there.” “Kumari?” Spike repeated. “Never heard of a Kumari before. Are there books about it somewhere in the library, Twilight?” “No,” she said, eyes widening. “But the Canterlot restricted section had a few books.” And it was the name on the bottom of the plaque, near the edge of the table. “This is… a fairly significant bit of archeology, if ponies don’t know about this!” “There are lots of old myths.” Open Record lowered the roof down into place, smiling awkwardly. “I’m afraid that’s all I know about Orichalcum. Just the old rituals. All fictional.” “Well…” Twilight hesitated just one more second, then lifted the sample from her bag. She kept out of reach of the pony like she had last time, though it was easier with no horn to be worried about. “That’s interesting, because I have a sample. I’m told it came from very near your town. I don’t know where, exactly. But I was hoping you might have some insight.” Open’s eyes locked onto the metal exactly as Gristle’s had, and for the second time a pony looked like they might try to take it from her. As she advanced a few steps, Twilight lifted it up and back, out of reach. “Maybe seeing some for yourself will help you remember some things. It’s obviously not fictional. Neither is Nightmare Moon, or Discord, or the Underworld for that matter.” She rolled her eyes. “Between you and me, I think maybe every myth Equestria ever had might have some truth to it at this point. Apparently nopony did anything properly back in the day. It was all mysteries and incomprehensible creatures from beyond time and space.” Open hesitated for just another second, then swallowed. “Maybe… we could find something in the records room,” she stammered. “There are… old mining registries. Cargo manifests. If you really think that piece came from here… we might be able to see how it got here. Track things that way.” “Sure!” Twilight slipped it back into her bag, then tightened the straps visibly for the pony to see. “Lead the way!” Open Record did so, slipping through the overhanging black cloth so fast that it closed quickly behind her. Twilight winced, then lit her horn again as she followed. “Watch my back,” she whispered to the dragon, before passing through with one skeptical hoof. She kept her horn ready, expecting either an attacker or an enchantment, ready to blast them with who knew what. In some ways, she was disappointed. The back of the historical society was even darker than the display section out front, with neither lights nor windows to help her see. The smell of mildew and moisture was thick here, and she could feel her hooves slip a little on the floor. But she spread her wings, using the extra stability to stay standing. Spike didn’t, and he slid along the floor at her hooves, nearly tripping her. “Seems like a bad place to keep records,” Twilight said, brightening her horn a little to penetrate the thick darkness. There was the metal wall on one side, and a set of shelves near them. There was something else close by, what was that—her eyes widened, and she squeaked, entirely too late. A heavy net dropped on her from above, its thick metal links heavy enough that even Twilight was taken straight to the ground. She squealed in protest, summoning the defensive spell she’d prepared to cut her way free—and she found the energy leaving her. The metal links around her head suddenly burned with heat, warm enough that she almost screamed a second time. Spike snarled and slashed from somewhere nearby, but his claws seemed equally ineffective. “Don’t bother!” called a voice from the other end of the empty room. Not the one she’d expected, though there was something familiar about it. Twilight couldn’t get a good look at them, because her light spell had gone out. “You were looking for metal. That net was made long ago, to catch monsters in the deep. There’s a tiny fraction of Orichalcum in there, just enough to also be useful against unicorns that get too close.” The voice sounded so familiar in some ways—except that it was wet in a way she couldn’t describe. It also came from much too low on the ground, like the dock underneath had rotted away completely and the speaker was swimming. Twilight couldn’t see without her light spell. Whoever they were sure sounded threatening—like they’d been preparing for this a long time. “Stop struggling, Spike,” Twilight whispered. She couldn’t cast any spells under the net, apparently. But that didn’t matter. Sooner or later their captors would have to take it off. Once they did… they would discover the severity of their mistake trying to catch an Alicorn. “What do you mean she’s not a unicorn?” the speaker whispered, suddenly annoyed. Open Record answered; her whisper not audible from across the huge space. But the profanity another second later sure was. “You’re bucking kidding me! Lights!” There was a click, and brilliant light shone in from all around her, illuminating the entire space in harsh white. But Twilight had no eyes for anything but the speaker. She had been right about the opening in the docks, though it was less rotten and more purposefully cut. The opening covered over half the floor, an aisle right in the center that seemed placed to allow someone to swim in and out of the bottom of the building with ease. A figure swam right up to the edge, only feet away from Twilight. She had only two hooves, which she rested on the edge of the platform to stare down at her with familiar magenta eyes. She had a coat of scales instead of fur, with a rainbow fin running down her back. “Buck me, it’s you. Twilight, what the hay are you doing here?” “Rainbow Dash?” Her friend of years was still clearly recognizable, despite the transformation. “I think I get to ask the same question,” she said, rising with a sudden surge of earth pony strength and tossing the net aside. There were several figures lurking near the walls, and none of them actually moved to stop her. One was Gristle, the other’s face she didn’t recognize. “I thought you were at another Wonderbolt training camp.” “Yeah, heh-heh.” Rainbow drifted back in the water a few feet, and Twilight caught her first glimpse under the surface. Her friend had a long, smooth fin, reflecting the light of the spotlights overhead. “About that. Turns out things are maybe a little more complicated than that. I bet you… probably never thought you had a friend with some weird secret like this…” Twilight couldn’t help it—she smiled, then burst into hysterical laughter. Fish-Rainbow only stared from the edge of the water, confusion spreading across her face. “What do we do, Rainbow?” asked Gristle from behind her, his tone as unfriendly as it had been in the inn. “The Alicorn escaped.” “Of course ‘the Alicorn’ escaped!” Rainbow hopped up with her wings, out of the edge of the water. She rested on the wood there, balancing on a perfectly toned chest. Her body was as sleek and muscular as she ever looked with feathers, though there were also slits in her neck for gills, pressed closed now that they were out of the water. Apparently she could still breathe air, because she could still talk about the same. “We weren’t going to be able to stop her if we wanted to. And if we tried…” She shook her head. “You want Celestia to come down on us? Cool it!” She stuck out one leg in the other direction, towards Open Record. “Stop with the memory coral! It probably won’t work on her anyway. I’ll handle this. You ponies can go.” “You’re a seapony!” Spike said, finally recovering enough of his wits to speak. “You’re real. I thought… I mean, everypony says that they used to exist. Knew the best songs or whatever. But you don’t see seaponies outside of comic books.” “Welp, here you go,” Rainbow said, sliding backward until her gills were underwater again, holding her forelegs up over the rim so she could watch them. “One seapony, in the flesh. Well quite a few seaponies, but Twilight is probably figuring all that out. Knowing her, she probably worked out the whole conspiracy. Hit me with it, Twi. I’ll tell you if you’re hot or cold.” Twilight didn’t hesitate. She walked right over to the edge of the water, sitting down on her haunches. “Transforming another pony is incredibly powerful, restricted magic. There’s no way that’s what this is. So that means it’s… genetic. If vampires are real, no reason seaponies couldn’t be too. Maybe it’s an inherited, recessive gene. You must have it.” Rainbow swam back a little, flicking her tail powerfully to keep her upright in the water, almost at Twilight’s eye level. Impressive strength. Don’t you dare look at her like that, Twilight. Get your mind out of the dock. “Pretty warm so far. At least… I think you are. I’ll admit I don’t understand half of those words.” Twilight went on. “I’m guessing your transformations must be… seasonal. That’s why you have to take such frequent training trips, and… why you work in weather. It’s a commission job you can take when you’re in town, then miss for weeks at a time when you’re out here. But don’t you have family in Cloudsdale? And… you’ve got records up there. I know you really did the Sonic Rainboom, or else none of us would’ve met. Spike wouldn’t have hatched without you.” “I probably would’ve hatched eventually,” Spike countered. But he didn’t sound that upset, not when they were getting to see such amazing things. “Oh, that happened. Flying is… a lot like swimming. Different resistances, different angles. But lots of it is the same technique. Practicing in Kumari is almost as good as practicing in the sky. If you ask me, the water is better. It’s so thick that when you finally switch back to flying it feels like you’re taking weights off your hooves.” Twilight wanted to grill her friend for hours about the whole conspiracy—how had seaponies been hiding in Princessport for all this time without discovery? How many seaponies were there? Were there other villages like this? But there were more important things right now. She hadn’t come just to solve a mystery; she’d come with a specific goal in mind. “I guess it’s only fair that I answer your question. Why I’m here—it’s Orichalcum, like Open Record probably told you. I need some.” “Why?” Rainbow rested her head on the edge of the dock, watching her with concern. “I don’t think you understand what you’re asking, Twilight. There are only two sources of that stuff anywhere in the ocean. I couldn’t do it even if I wanted to, not alone. Kumari won’t sponsor an expedition, and if you tried to take it from the temple… pretty sure that would be like declaring war. Which is bad.” “I know!” Twilight didn’t understand anything about what Rainbow was saying, but that didn’t mean she had to sit by silently. “I know I don’t want war,” she said, a little more carefully. “It’s for Sweetie Belle. She’s… very sick. It’s part of the only cure.” “Really?” Rainbow hopped out of the water, scooting towards her along the dock. She grinned sharp teeth at her, sharp enough that her fishy diet was obvious. “You aren’t Applejack, so I want to look at you while you’re telling me. This is really for Sweetie Belle?” Twilight nodded, not looking away. “She’ll never live a normal life without it. Rarity is counting on me to bring back a piece of Orichalcum. I don’t need you to do it for me, though.” She stood a little straighter. “My last week has been insane, Rainbow. You probably won’t believe me, but… I’ve been to the Underworld, I killed a demon, hunted vampires… I can get the metal myself.” Rainbow laughed, glancing at her back legs. “Doubt it, Twi. You’re… if you were one of us, you’d have found out about the same time you got your cutie mark. There’s not enough of the sea in your blood for a ship in a bottle.” “It’s…” Twilight swallowed. “I’d have to go into the ocean?” “Yeah!” Rainbow grinned a little wider. “Like I said, you can only find it in two places. You can see all the Orichalcum you want in the temple. But you can’t touch, and they won’t let you have it, even for a good cause.” “And what’s the other place?” “The Tehuti Ruins,” Rainbow said, her voice going flat and losing all humor. “No single fish has ever swam there and returned. Last expedition I heard of had… fifty, I think. Only half came back. You’re an Alicorn, but… here you are breathing air. Wouldn’t be very helpful up here.” “I could…” Twilight straightened. “Of all the creatures who know enough transfiguration to use on a pony, I’m one of them. I could… probably manage. If you give me a few minutes to scratch something out on the wood here.” “You’re joking.” “I don’t like the sound of that either,” Spike said, his voice shaking. “It sounds an awful lot like ‘wait here until I get back, Spike! Don’t worry, I’m sure those crazy cultists won’t make you into stew or something while I’m gone!’” “Nah, I can make sure that doesn’t happen,” Rainbow said dismissively. “They wouldn’t, anyway. You’d just wake up with a headache next town over, and never remember coming here. Nobody here eats dragons. You’re not a fish.” “And I’m not joking,” Twilight said, removing her saddlebags and lifting a piece of charcoal from her spellcasting kit. She tossed the bag to Spike, then found a clear patch of ground and started sketching. Occasionally she glanced up towards Rainbow Dash, reading her with her horn. “I hope you were serious, because I’m going.” “I’ll be seriously amazed if you do it,” Rainbow said. “There are plenty of fish who wanted to be regular ponies again. The ones who… don’t have enough land in their blood to ever come back. They’ve searched for ages for a transformation spell. If they can’t do it, you aren’t going to find one in five minutes.” “Not five,” Twilight agreed. “Maybe… two.” She finished, tossing the charcoal aside. “Your fish friends are probably looking for a spell that can transform someone else, or maybe they want it to be permanent. Both of those increase the complexity of any spelling an order of magnitude. But I can make this to last until sunrise, and I can cast it on myself. Simple!” She held out one leg. “Can I have a scale, please? I need a piece to make this work, and you don’t have a mane anymore…” Rainbow flinched, swimming back a few feet with widening eyes. “You’re serious. I guess if… anypony could do it.” Her expression grew more resolved. “That would make explaining this easier. She was a fish the whole time, guys! Her dragon is in on it, you can all put the pitchforks away! No need to panic. We’re not getting revealed to the world.” “Why hide at all?” Spike asked, sitting down beside the diagram and pulling a comic book out of the saddlebags. “Ponies would love to find out there was another friendly tribe!” “Because we’re all sterile unless we interbreed with ponies,” Rainbow said, as casually as if she was commenting on the weather. “And ponies would probably start figuring out real quick when most of their foals started growing scales.” “Yikes.” Spike sat back against the wall, opening up his comic book. “Just tell them not to attack me before you go on your crazy adventure, Twi. I’ll probably be at the hotel room when you get back.” “If we get back,” Rainbow Dash said, reaching under her belly and wincing. She emerged with a bright blue scale in her hoof a moment later, offering it to Twilight. “We’ll probably get eaten by sea monsters. Tehuti is basically the most dangerous place in existence. Nopony should swim there.” “Yeah yeah,” Spike waved a claw dismissively. “Maybe if you two were anypony you’d be fine. But you’re Rainbow and Twilight, the coolest and strongest ponies around. You’ll probably be back before dinner.” Twilight pushed his words away from her mind, ignoring Rainbow as she preened in the attention and called for Open again. Twilight had to focus on her spell—had to focus with every drop of concentration she had. Self-transformation was in the same class of difficulty as teleportation, the kind of spell that you could only fail once. But she had a piece of her target in her circle, had an example to look at while she worked. Performing this charm from description alone would’ve been completely impossible. She released the spell after a few seconds, feeling suddenly drained as the magic left her. She hadn’t memorized the patterns perfectly like her teleports, and runes on the ground were always harder. Her neck burned, and her legs wobbled under her. Her back legs gave out, and she squealed in surprise. She flopped to one side. The spell progressed rapidly from there, cool scales spreading across her body, her legs fusing into a lengthening tail, her cutie mark emerging on a transparent fin. One of many. Instinct drove her towards the water, and she splashed in sideways with much less coordination than Rainbow Dash. She found herself gasping for air after only a second, drifting down through the bright opening, past old wooden posts holding up the docks all thickly coated in mussels and barnacles. “Hey, stupid,” Rainbow said from above her. Her voice was a little distorted by the water, but much less than she would’ve expected. She still sounded exactly like her friend. “Stop holding your breath. Going back and forth takes a ton of practice. Just let the water in.” Twilight’s instincts screamed in her head, and her horn almost summoned a little bubble of air—but she was too weak after the transformation. Her spell fizzled, and she gasped. The fire in her lungs went out, and relief flooded through her. Twilight’s eyes stopped watering, and her body uncurled. The water no longer felt stinging cold as it had on the dock, but pleasantly cool, passing around and through her as though that were the most natural thing in the world. Her wings spread behind her by reflex, and she tried to push herself towards Rainbow. Unsuccessfully. They weren’t wings anymore at all, but fins. “No.” Rainbow darted over to her, as lithe as a trout swimming upriver to spawn. “You don’t swim vertical, that’s silly.” But then she wrapped her forelegs around her, squealing with delight. “I can’t believe you get to come down to Kumari with me! All this time I thought I’d eventually have to say goodbye forever… well, it’s fitting the immortal pony in the group would get to do it. You can make as many trips back as you want! And… maybe get that spell written down for some of the fish down in Kumari. If you wanna be rich, I mean.” Twilight took one last look up towards the opening into the historical society, where she could vaguely make out Spike’s purple scales amid the old bookshelves. Good luck up there, she thought, but Rainbow was probably right. She would be back soon enough that saying goodbye didn’t make sense. Time to complete that cure.