//------------------------------//
// Extremely Compassionate Trespassing 
// Story: The Elements of Love 
// by UnweptSchlipps 
//------------------------------//

“Would it kill these mages to have some torches or something?” Lucky whispered after tripping over some stairs for the tenth time. He and Cheerilee were doing as they were told, journeying up the spiraling staircase to get to the observatory-like room at the top. However, this meant traversing forty flights of stairs, which was a difficult challenge in itself. To them, it seemed their biggest opponent wouldn't come from the mages that lived here, but gravity.

“Oh my, I’m tired,” the schoolteacher panted, leaning against the stone wall.

“Come on, Miss Cheerilee, this is only the tenth floor! I mean, I’m tired too but...” Lucky uttered, trying to help her up.

But Cheerilee held a hoof to her lips, telling the unicorn to be silent. At first, he strained his ears trying to hear what Cheerilee was hearing. But soon it became clear; the sound of hooves clopping up the stairs. And by the sound of it, they were only a few floors below.

“Oh shoot, we need to hide. Um…ummm…” Lucky stammered, scanning the stairwell for some kind of hiding place. But to his dismay, there was nothing to hide behind, nothing to conceal them. He pulled on the closest door, only to find it was locked tight. The hooves were getting closer, and the voices of two old ponies began to resonate as well.

Cheerilee began to tense up, and she whispered frantically, “They’re coming! What do we do? Use the dart?”

Finally, Lucky’s eyes lit up in revelation, and he told her. “No, I’ve got an idea. Stay behind me!” The two squeezed against a dark corner of the stairway, trying to lay as flat as possible. One flash of Lucky’s horn later, and the two faded into the shadows until they were completely invisible.

Perfect timing too, for at that moment, two mages appeared from below. They were shrouded in dark blue robes with the Frost Star embroidered in the middle, and only their wrinkled snouts were exposed. One chatted to the other, “And so I told that flat-flanked oaf, ‘How can you expect to use the formula of Soul Arcane Harmonics, if you can barely understand the basic Draconic Principles of Magic!’”

“Doh-hoh-hoh! You told him!” the other stallion heartily laughed. “That mule can’t tell the difference between synchronic energy and symbiotic energy!”

It seemed the two would keep climbing, and run straight into the invisible duo. But at the last moment, the old magicians swerved around, headed for the locked door. One levitated his key, and with a small click, the elders slipped through the doorway and out of sight.

As soon as the mages disappeared, Lucky dissipated his spell. The two gave a sigh of relief, and Lucky uttered, “Pfft. Nerds.”

“How did you do that?” Cheerilee asked as the two began to climb once again.

But the stallion just looked at her as though it was no big deal, and with a cocky smile he replied, “Are you kidding? That old trick? This isn’t the first time I’ve had to hide from somepony, you know.”

The teacher eyed him with eyebrows raised, and she just answered awkwardly, “I’m…not even going to ask."


xxx


Meanwhile, while Lucky and Cheerilee moved up, another duo was headed in the opposite direction, going deep underground. The tower above may have been narrow, but underneath it all was a huge expanse of catacombs that seemed to expand endlessly. 

Braeburn and Redheart had been tirelessly treading down stairwells, which were randomly scattered every which way. But every floor they had passed had no sign of the Arcaneum, and every time they had thought they had reached the bottom, another staircase beckoned. “Shoot! How far does this thing go down?” Braeburn said after coming up empty yet again. “We’ve been checking every floor, an’ still no sign of that Arcan-whatsit the princess talked about!”

Redheart was fazed by this as well, although not as visibly as her cowpony companion. Her face was still composed with a serene half-smile, and she told him, “Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole thing was located at the bottom.”

“If only we knew where the bottom was!” Braeburn replied.

The duo ventured deeper into the underground maze. Torches lit the hallways, which seemed to get dimmer as they got deeper. A few times they had some close calls with some wandering mages, but with some quick use of the shadows, the two managed to slip by undetected.

Turns out, Redheart’s hunch was correct. They had arrived at the bottom floor, which was at least thirty stories down, and a small arrow with Arcaneum was written on the wall. The two ponies sighed, relieved that they had finally found the elusive library.

The victory was short lived however. When they got there, the room was sealed off with a large metal door that looked strangely out of place with the rest of the ancient corridors. And attached to the side was some sort of black contraption with a keyboard. A red screen said “PASSWORD VERIFICATION”.

“What is this? One of them password doo-hickeys?” Braeburn whispered, inspecting the new-fangled gadget suspiciously.

“Huh, you would’ve thought this place wouldn’t have this kind of technology,” Redheart added, confused as well. “Well, it doesn’t seem we can get in unless we find that password.”

“How in the hay are we supposed ta...” Braeburn began. But suddenly, there was the sound of a gasp behind them. The two whirled around to see a hooded figure, who glared at them suspiciously.

“You’re not supposed to be here!” the hooded stallion cried. Then he turned around, trying to escape to tell his comrades.

“Oh no you don’t!” Braeburn hissed, chasing the stallion down the corridor with a head full of steam. The mage tried to elude the cowpony, even launching a small shard of ice. But the stallion was no match for Braeburn’s strong legs, and the cowpony tackled him down, wrangling him like a hog.

“What’s the password to this thing?” Braeburn demanded, pinning the mage to the ground. His hood slipped off, revealing a pony that looked quite younger than his ancient counterparts. His eyes were wide with fear, staring into the cowpony’s stolid face.

“I…I don’t know,” the mage stuttered. Braeburn watched the stallion’s eyes intently, searching for so much as a flinch or a flicker, anything that would indicate fabrication. And sure enough, he found one, plain as the apple on his flank.

The cowpony brought his face closer and said intensely, “Listen partner, these hooves are able to buck hundreds of trees without so much as a crack. Imagine what it’d do to that squishy little snout a’ yours!”

“Please, just let me go. Only the highest-ranked mages can go in there! I don’t have the authority!” the mage asserted, shying away from the cowpony’s snout. But Braeburn could still spy the tell-tale flicker of deceit, and he wasn’t about to let go.

Now, with his snout just grazing the mage’s cheek, Braeburn told him, “Come on, if yer gonna lie, at least make it realistic. You an’ I both know that symbol on yer cloak means yer a high-ranked mage, so jus’ spill it!” He pointed at a small red emblem sewn into the stallion’s hood accusingly, and the mage reacted with a whimper.

Then Braeburn drilled him with what he called “The Truth Stare”. His eyes burned with the intensity of the sun, unfaltering and unmerciful. As he described it, “Nopony can look me in the eye and tell me a lie.” 

The case was certainly true here, for only a few seconds into the Stare, the mage relented. “Okay, okay, stop!” he sputtered. “Th-the password is ‘password’!”

“Huh, ah coulda thought of that,” Braeburn uttered, sensing the truth this time. He backed off from the stallion, who breathed a relieved sigh. But before the mage could get up, the cowpony told him, “Oh, and uh, Ah can’t let you go tellin’ yer friends now, so…”

Before the mage knew it, a pink dart pricked his leg. The magician gave a slurred mumble before lying back onto the floor, completely knocked out.

“A bit rough, don’t you think?” Redheart told the cowpony, who was readjusting his hat calmly.

He responded, “When you’ve lived your life dealing with cider-hogs causin’ a ruckus in a saloon, you gotta learn to be a little rough.”

“How’d you know that mark meant they were high-ranked?” Redheart asked.

“Oh, that? Ah just guessed. Not bad, huh?” Braeburn began to type in the aptly named password, only to find himself stamping multiple buttons at once. “Darn it! These buttons are too small.”

Redheart gently brushed the stallion aside, saying, “Don’t worry. It just takes a soft touch.”

Braeburn raised his eyebrow skeptically, but to his surprise, the keypad turned green and the metal door slid open. The cowpony was duly impressed, and he asked, “How’d you do that?”

“Told you. Soft touch,” Redheart answered, wearing a smug grin. “By the way…don’t you think we’ll need that dart for later?”

“What? Naw, we’ll just go in, find those tomes, an’ get out before anypony sees us!" Braeburn answered confidently, leading the way into the Arcaneum.

xxx

“Where are we going?” Scoots asked as she and Soarin wandered down a random hall, with seemingly no particular goal.

The Wonderbolt replied, “Well, since we’re here, I figured we ought to search the place for anything. Make ourselves useful, you know?” 

After twiddling their hooves near their entry point for a few minutes, the pegasus duo had made their way up to find anything useful. Now they were on the fourth floor of the tower, which at the moment, seemed to be deserted. Perfect for them, because they took the time to scour the rooms that lined the passageway. Most were just sleeping quarters and beds, and held nothing that was of use.

But finally, they came upon a certain door at the very end of the hallway. Upon going inside, they found a tiny little room with shelves stacked with books and containers filled with files and reports. It was an information jackpot.

“Check out all these files!” Soarin remarked. He began to search through the shelves, looking for some sign of dark magic.

Meanwhile, Scootaloo had wandered off, investigating a metal door in the corner. She found it propped open, so she peeked her head inside cautiously. Inside, there were four large windows, which provided a view to four barren little rooms. “What’s with all these rooms?” Scootaloo uttered.  “They’ve just got…tables. That’s it.”

But the curious filly had no time to investigate further, as Soarin called from the file-room, “Hey Scoots, why don’t you search that chest, see if you find anything? I’ll keep checking these.”

“No prob!” the orange pegasus replied, leaving the metal door open. She made her way over to a container located underneath one of the desks. To her surprise (and delight), the chest was already unlocked. The filly sifted through the contents, scanning everything with a close eye. Junk. Junk. More junk, Scootaloo thought, tossing the unwanted stuff aside. But then, at the very bottom of the chest, a small purple book with a strange emblem on the front caught her eye.

Satisfied with what she had found, Scootaloo called out, “Hey Soarin, I found this journal thing! It says ‘Dark Magic Investigation: Photos’.”

The Wonderbolt said happily, “That’s awesome Scoots, you found something!”

But they had no time to revel in the accomplishment. Just outside, they could hear the sound of hooves tapping along the ground.

“Somepony’s coming!” Scootaloo said urgently.

Soarin thought quickly, ushering the filly through the metal door. “Quick. Into one of those rooms.” They slipped into one empty little rooms, and Soarin hovered themselves upward, hugging close to the ceiling.

From outside, they could befuddled mumbling, followed by the sound of ruffling papers. “That rat, Glovis! Always going through my stuff! I’ll give him a piece of my mind…” the voice said. To their relief, the voice faded away, not bothering to check the open metal doorway. 

The two pegasi fluttered down to the floor, with Scootaloo clutching the purple journal tight. Soarin went to peer out of the window, only to find himself looking at his own reflection.

He smiled at himself, taking the time to examine his wind-blown mane, and said, “Hey, it’s like one of those one-way mirror things. Like the ones they use in interrogation rooms in those dramatic detective shows.”

“Why would they have that here?” Scootaloo replied, leaning against the table leg.

Soarin glanced around the room; however there wasn’t much to see. A small camera was attached to the corner positioned directly at the table, and two metal chairs were stacked at the side. At first glance, nothing seemed too interesting. But upon closer inspection, Soarin noticed something staining the metal table’s surface. Some kind of substance had spilled…or spattered across the table. The Wonderbolt found the very same substance coating the legs of the metal chairs, as well as dotting the floor. It was crimson red, unmistakable for the athlete, who had seen many gruesome injuries in his time.

This was blood. Dried blood.

What have these mages been doing? Soarin thought grimly. Reaching for the exit, he said out loud, “Come on Scoots. We need to get out of here.”

That was when a metal covering slid shut, almost amputating Soarin’s hoof.