//------------------------------// // Chapter 15 // Story: Defense in Depth // by Fon Shaolin //------------------------------// Las Pegasus was, in stark contrast to other cities in the land, rather quiet during the day. Streets were swept by the local government, any kind of repairs to the casinos and hotels were undertaken, and ponies of every stripe and walk of life were usually sleeping, getting ready for the night of gambling and revelry ahead.  Therefore, when a rageful “Celestia buck it!” shook nearly every window in a two-block radius, ponies were rightfully startled out of their daily routines. Usually, a clammer like that didn’t start until after the nightly losses in the casinos started to mount.  But it was no gambling loss that prompted the outburst. Deep under the city, mired in the web of utility tunnels that snaked under the metropolis, a necromancer trashed about in a fit of rage. Bubbly purple magics spit and sputtered from its horn like a broken fuse box, but the power of the unicorn could swiftly be attested to - if only any of the witnesses weren’t undead husks, an unwitting audience to their master’s potency as they were.   The mirror that had just played the last few moments of a helmed horror cracked, buckled, and ultimately was crushed down into a tiny ball of molten metal by the unicorn’s dark grip - a victim of its displeasure. A rare magical artifact to be sure, but not one the unicorn couldn’t enchant again. And imagining the mirror was a certain lavender mare’s skull certainly helped the unicorn’s mood.  But however good it might have felt to vent frustrations on an inanimate object, the fact that the desert lair had been taken couldn’t be ignored. It had only been partially cleared out and held important papers - including a quick reference guide to the ancient, heavy grimoire sitting in its place of prestige on the other side of the room. Only a hundred or so pages, encrypted, of course, detailing only some combat spells useful for ridding the cave of its more virulent residents... but still. It had taken them several weeks to transcribe it, at a great cost of materials and time. Its loss was nearly as great as that of the helmed horror.  And that thought made the anger come surging back. So much had gone into its creation, from making various bargains, material and demonic alike, for materials, to capturing the ancient soul of a powerful devil. Even the armor itself had been specially-crafted out of Saddle Arabian runesteel! Barring traveling all the way back to that hellish corner of the world, there would be no replacing it! An incredible loss. More than the book, more than the lair itself, more than anything there! The sewer shook. “Well, there may have been one thing in that pit more valuable,” the amended, a slow smile spreading across their lips. They tossed away the crushed mirror and walked out into the darkness of the tunnels... or what remained of them. What had been a simple sewer tunnel was now three times its old size, carved out of the limestone below the city. Only the dark, purple light of the necromancer’s horn lit the darkness.  Creatures scattered. Small, mean things that were only useful for their labor. Dozens of beady yellow eyes stared at the unicorn from the darkness, brave enough to watch, but not brave enough to challenge the mage for control over the subterranean nest.  Not when it was here.  A rumble and the things scattered like the vermin they were. The necromancer’s lips curled. From the darkness, a pale face appeared, and then another. Long, white necks growing into the unicorn’s light like mushrooms. Mouths hanging slightly, showing stained teeth larger than the necromancer was tall. But they showed no fear; this was their beast.  “Our timetable has been pushed forward,” the unicorn said, voice echoing off the cavern. Each of the heads took the words independently, gnawing on them like a mental soup bone. Not for the first time did the unicorn wonder just how this thing’s mind worked. Were the heads in tandem? Was it playing at some kind of pantomime, putting on a show for its master?  The necromancer shook their head. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that the enemy, that unicorn, was here now, in the city. Right above their heads. Dangerous, but also a grand opportunity.  A new sound. The creature was always making noise (which the necromancer had, in accordance with the ancient, ruinous texts that taught them how to find its egg in the first place, immunized itself to), but now there was a new note. A new chorus among the wailing.  A third face appeared out of the dark. Stubby, malformed. Lips and teeth still locked behind a thin veil of veiny afterbirth, but visible all the same. The necromancer could swear it was smiling.  Three heads. Five to go.  And then, finally, revenge. Defense in Depth: Chapter 15 Twilight shifted. Twisted, as much as she could, but something tugged unpleasantly at her skin and flopped back into her original position. It was an unsettling feeling and she reached out with her magic to stop it, but nothing came.  A hoof brushed across her shoulder, gently pushing her back down. “There’s no need for that, Miss Twilight.” A mare’s voice. Kind, but professional. “You need your rest. You’ve been through an ordeal.”  With more than a little effort, Twilight managed to get her eyes open. Blinding light hit her, and she curled her neck away, pushing down into the soft pillow she was resting on. “Blarh,” she groaned.  “Oh, the light. My apologies.” Twilight heard a soft click and the white halo bleeding through her eyelids gradually retreated. Cautiously, Twilight cracked an eye. Everything was hazy and unfocused, but there was definitely a pony-shaped thing standing next to her... bed?  Twilight pushed herself up with her forelegs. The pony at her bedside gave her a helping hoof and there were enough pillows to pile under Twilight’s chest to stay upright.  Her eyes cleared a bit more. “You’re a...” Twilight noticed the small cap on top of the mare’s head. “...a nurse? Is this...” “Sunset Medical Center,” the nurse provided. “The central-most hospital in Las Pegasus.  Hospital? How had she gotten here? The last thing Twilight remembered was that cave and that... helmed horror. She’d killed it, hadn’t she? But it had...  Twilight tried to get all the way up, but a firm press of magic kept her still. “I need... where’s... Sunburst!” Twilight looked around, ignoring the sudden alarming beeping of the machines she was hooked up to. “Trixie! Trixie?!” “...shurt up...”  The surprise Twilight felt hearing that voice allowed the nurse to finally put Twilight back under the covers of her hospital bed. The beeping from the machine gradually slowed down and went back to normal, which the nurse let out a relieved sigh at.  “You’re quite the handful,” she muttered, but her expression softened when she followed Twilight’s eyes to the blue unicorn sleeping in a chair pulled up to the foot of Twilight’s bed. “She rotates between rooms all day. Always find her in here with you in the morning, though.” What an idiot, Twilight thought, but a smile was tugging at her lips. Twilight noticed the large bandage on the side of Trixie’s face, covering her left eye - where the horror had stomped her after she’d gored it. “Is she alright?”  “Only some stitches, from what I understand. They were worried about a hairline fracture in her jaw as well, but I believe the doctors managed to heal it. The black eye will have to heal on its own.” Twilight nodded. She’d gotten a few black eyes in her life, but she was sure Trixie would be complaining about it for days - when she wasn’t being an absolute terror teasing Twilight about needing to be saved in the first place. She would be so insufferable...  ...but Twilight didn’t feel like she’d mind it too much. Maybe Trixie’s earned it?   The nurse used the lull in the conversation to swap out Twilight’s IV bag, and the unicorn finally took a good look at everything she was hooked up to. There were two IV lines in her: one was a clear IV and the other was a blood bag sitting at around half-full.  It was a little creepy to see a bag of blood just hanging there, and the tube running down into her neck. Twilight felt lucky that she couldn’t actually see where the hose went in, since it was up close to the base of her skull and the main artery there.  “I lost a lot of blood?” she asked, breaking the steady stream of beeps and hisses coming from the machines.  The nurse was quiet for a moment. So long that Twilight didn’t think she’d get an answer. “It was... touch and go, for a few hours.” Twilight thought that was a more polite way of saying “you almost died” than the truth. It didn’t surprise her, really. She remembered losing the sword fight with the horror, and the way that claymore had cut into her neck at the last second. Before Trixie had saved her. Saved all of them, really.  Twilight let out a deep breath and concentrated on her horn. It felt whole, and for that she was supremely thankful. A broken horn was a handicap no unicorn wanted to live with. Her magic felt strained, though.  “Please don’t try and cast with a dampener on,” the nurse said. “It’s for your own health.”  Dampener. Twilight rolled her eyes; she hated those things. When she concentrated she could feel the thin band of bespelled iron sitting at the base of her horn. “How’s my neck? Other than the blood.” Another hesitation. “Miss Sparkle, I don’t think-” The door to the room cracked open. Twilight smiled when she recognized the stallion poking his head in. “Sorry to eavesdrop, but I can take it from here.” The nurse startled. Sunburst was there, by the door. His entire chest was wrapped in a thick cast, but he hobbled inside the room without too much trouble. He even managed to smile at the nurse without it looking too fake.  “But, you shouldn’t be...” Sunburst’s smile didn’t leave. “I promise I shall take it easy, but this is Magisterium business.” The polite emphasis wasn’t lost on the mare and she finally nodded, defeated.  “Do not get excited,” she warned Twilight as she smoothed out the bed. “There’s a button on the wall you can push if you need anything.”  Somehow Sunburst managed not to wilt under the look the nurse gave him on her way out. “Charming mare,” he muttered. His petulance shifted to genuine affection when he turned back to Twilight. “And there’s our little hero.” A groan from the foot of the bed. “Trixie can practically hear her head inflating from here,” the unicorn groaned, cracking her single bloodshot eye first at Twilight, then at her teacher. Slowly, grudgingly, she lifted her head to properly join the conversation.  Twilight couldn’t help but stare at the bandage that covered half of Trixie’s face. Even past that, larger than the bandage, was the ugly purple bruise on the magister’s face. She didn’t look away quick enough and Trixie caught her staring; Twilight couldn’t hold the mare’s one uncovered eye.  The unicorn sighed, which also blew a stray cowlick of mane out of her face. “Trixie supposes you feel guilty?” she asked, sounding petulant.  Guilt? Guilt made the most sense. But she remembered Trixie's scream Sunburst had been thrown against the wall. The horror in her face when Ivory Tower's broken body was flung over their heads. The sobbing when the horror was looming over her. The split-second Twilight felt something when the mess of a unicorn had speared that damn thing with her horn and saved them both. “Yeah. Guilty.” Guilt was easy. Guilt Twilight understood; could compartmentalize efficiently. Had time for. “Sorry, Trixie. I was supposed to guard you. But now you have stitches, and your eye. I just... I wasn’t strong enough and you ended up having to save me.” Trixie’s scoff was as exaggerated as always. “How ridiculous! You were there to do manual labor for Trixie, not fight her battles. If anything, Trixie should... she should...” The mare’s voice trailed off, losing her normal fire. Twilight glanced up at her, but the other unicorn was staring down at the checkered bedspread. Her face was angled away, so Twilight couldn’t see her uncovered eye. “I should be thanking you,” she whispered.  The thick tension was thankfully shattered by Sunburst. “Well, I never thought I would see the day,” he said, staring at Trixie, “when you would play the martyr.” Twilight expected that to break Trixie’s melancholy, but she just made a humming sound and curled up tighter in her chair. Sunburst looked questioningly at Twilight, but she shrugged. Twilight had no idea what Trixie’s normal moods were like; they’d only been traveling with each other for a few days. Shouldn’t he have a better idea? But it seemed like Sunburst didn’t. Instead, he just barreled over the uncomfortableness by continuing on. “W-Well, regardless of how all this turned out, I am glad you joined us on this expedition, Twilight Sparkle. I’ll be sending my regards to your trainers at Fort Dressage, along with an official Magisterium accolade!” He floated something over to Twilight - a small golden pip, the type worn on a service uniform. “We usually can’t give them out to trainees, but in this case we’ll be asking the fort to officially present it to you after you graduate.” That... was a big deal! Twilight felt her heart jump - and the machines at her bedside echoed it - when she took the medal. These were only given out to ponies that had gone above and beyond the call of duty, and only for joint missions with the Magisterium. A trainee getting one was unprecedented, as far as Twilight knew.  Sunburst looked over to Trixie. “And of course you’ll also get rewarded. This could easily be your capstone project for your next journeyman circle. You could see the fastest advancement in Magisterium history from this.” Unlike Twilight, though, Trixie didn’t look thankful. “Because it’s such an honor to be cut from the investigation,” she spat.  Those words shook Twilight out of her daydreams of greatness. “Wait, what? We beat the monster, Trixie. It’s gone.” She turned to Sunburst. “It is gone, right?” “That helmed horror has been exorcised from our world,” he quickly affirmed. “There are no traces of it left. Even its sword has been thoroughly de-spelled. It’s now just an inert lump of Saddle Arabian runesteel.” He nodded to a corner in the room, where Twilight was surprised to see the massive red blade. The glowing runes along its fuller were now just dead marks in the metal - bereft of the fel magic that had once animated them.  “But the helmed horror wasn’t what we were hunting,” Trixie cut back in. “The necromancer is still out there! And whatever was in that egg!” Sunburst’s lips thinned. “Yes,” he admitted, “they are. But our group is in no condition to investigate further. If they are in this city, and if they are behind the disappearances, we cannot afford to provoke them into more overt action. A relief team is already being prepared at the High Spire.”  “So we just wait?” Twilight demanded. “They could be out there right now killing ponies! We should be getting a militia together or, or something. Not just sitting here!” “And you would do what, exactly, in the state you are in?” Sunburst jumped. Cast and all, he leaped straight up, a solid foot off the ground, at the sudden voice. Trixie was on her feet, horn blazing, at the sliver of shimmering of light that had just appeared in the center of the room. Twilight tried to get up, machines and tubes be damned, but an inescapable force of magic stilled her struggling.  A head appeared. Ancient eyes narrowed slightly at Twilight. “None of that, Miss Sparkle,” it sternly said. Soon the rest of the unicorn’s body stepped out into the room as if the laws of magic hadn’t just been broken.  Recovering in excellent time, Sunburst pushed his glasses back up his snout and respectfully dipped his head. “Master,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting the replacement force until tomorrow.” There was only one pony Sunburst would call his master, and Twilight recognized the unicorn - the Supreme Magister of the High Spire, in the wrinkled flesh.  He was a short stallion, bent with age. His coat might have been brown at one time in his life, but now it had grey splotches covering his ears, snout, and what little Twilight could see of his chest in the gap of his magister robe. It seemed to shimmer in the fluorescent lights of the hospital, reminding Twilight of velvet. Sol Shard's eyes were alert, though, even if their color had dimmed similarly to his coat. He took in the room with practiced ease, zeroing in on his student. “That’s because they’ll still be arriving tomorrow. I came early when I heard of your injuries.” The stallion actually did seem worried as he took in the extent of the casts, which surprised Twilight. He hadn’t seemed the… caring type, when she’d first met him.  “I trust that you are following hospital orders, Sunburst.” “O-Of course…”  Sol Shard snorted, just like an old goat. “See that you do.” His attention turned to Trixie next, eyes narrowing. “And you? Lost the eye?” Trixie frantically shook her head. “J-Just some stitches, Sir. Master Sir.” “Just ‘Master’ will suffice, Magister Lulamoon. I’ve been told that you and Miss Sparkle were the only things that kept the team alive. I might even owe you a personal debt, Lulamoon.” He glanced out the corner of his eye at Sunburst, who wilted. “I’m not ready to lose my old apprentice just yet. And you apparently saved me one of my best combat casters, also.” “Ivory Tower?" Twilight guessed. She felt a flush of shame; she hadn't even thought about him.   Sol Shard’s face tightened. “He’s lost a leg, but the Magisterium has prosthetics that will make him nearly whole. But it was an incredibly close thing, Miss Sparkle. If the rest of the team had needed to finish the horror as well as rescue you all he wouldn’t be with us. Incidentally, he asked me personally to send his regards to you two. He is not an easy stallion to impress.” A leg. Losing a leg was one of the worst things that could happen to a pony, prosthetic or not. Twilight’s eyes went to the runesteel blade unbidden. That had taken Ivory Tower’s leg. Wielded by an evil construct that had nearly killed them all. There were cursed runes on it, disabled or not, and Twilight had nearly been beheaded by the thing. And yet… she wanted to take it up again. To feel its weight in her magic again. Badly. “Ah, and there’s the last bit of the horror left.” Sol Shard had followed her eyes. The elderly stallion hummed. He floated the massive sword over, turning it in the air like a jeweler examining a precious stone. “Runesteel,” he muttered. The blade didn’t whistle so much as it hummed as the Master Magister whipped it through the air, just as expertly as any trained swordsman. He pointed it away and looked straight down the blade with the same critical eye. “This is an old blade. From before the founding. There are several enchantments still on it, but the worst of them are gone. Your work, Sunburst?” “Yes, Master. It was cursed, of course, but there are several helpful ones we left for weight, sharpness, and strength.”  Sol Shard nodded and the massive sword slid back into its sheath without so much as a hiss. “A fine weapon. I assume you have already promised it to our guard helper?” Sunburst nodded. “Excellent. May it serve you well, Miss Sparkle.” Twilight finally let out the breath she’d been holding since the magister had taken an interest in the blade. “T-Thank you. I… was worried you would want to keep it,” she admitted.  “I do. Very much so.” He twirled the scabbard a few times and Twilight thought she saw a small smile tugging at his lips. “Learning the history that must have followed such a weapon would make for a wonderful diversion in my spare time, but it is not mine to research.” Now there was a smirk on his face. “If you ever get the chance, show it to Princess Celestia. She may recognize it.” Show it to Princess Celestia. Twilight’s eyes grew so wide they felt like they might pop. The idea that Princess Celestia might want to see Twilight’s sword was… was…  “Master,” Trixie called out, snuffing Twilight’s daydreams of the princess before they could begin. “Master. Trixie, ah, I was wondering if I could still be a part of the team.” Sol Shard cocked an eyebrow. “With only one working eye and your magic still under the influence of that ill-conceived sympathetic magic spell you cast?" His smile turned sardonic when Trixie visibly blanched. "Yes, Magister Lulamoon, Sunburst filled me in on that. And he was completely correct about the possible repercussions if Miss Sparkle had proved to be the vindictive sort. In fact…” He walked up to Twilight’s hospital bed. Trixie flinched back, as did Twilight, when he lowered his horn at them. A magic mist slithered out of his horn and enveloped the two mares.  The effect was immediate. Trixie let out a gasp and fell forward, her horn sparking. Twilight felt a disquiet pull on her horn and it itched like a botched filing job. Horribly uncomfortable and it only got worse as Sol Shard continued his spell.  Finally, seemingly tired of the slow pace, the old stallion snorted and whipped his head. Trixie growled like a wounded animal and Twilight fell back onto her pillow, clutching her horn. But in a moment the scratchy feeling left, along with the stallion’s magic.  “That was more difficult than it should have been,” Sol Shard grunted. He looked sharply at Trixie. “I hope that teaches you a valuable lesson about becoming dependent on outside magical sources, Magister Lulamoon. This is your second offense, is it not?” Twilight wasn’t so out of sorts that she missed the stricken look on Trixie’s face. “I said she could do it,” Twilight cut in, breathing hard.  Now Sol Shard gave her a look, but Twilight didn’t back down. As terrifying as it was to meet the eyes of the stallion, who technically was the second-most powerful creature in Equestria, Twilight felt herself just grow more resolved. “It’s true,” she insisted. “Trixie told me that she knew a way to get us to the rest of the team and then she explained the spell she wanted to do. I told her to go ahead.” Amazingly, the ancient magister looked away first. “Stubborn,” he muttered. “Very well, I won’t put this down as a mark on her record, but you two should refrain from any more… experimentation with magics. And no, Magister Lulamoon, you two will not be on the team. In fact, you are now under Magisterium orders to rest and recuperate until next Monday, after which you will escort Miss Sparkle back to Fort Dressage.” Trixie turned red. Twilight actually thought she was going to see her shout the stallion down, but Sol Shard just stared at her, daring. Trixie’s nose flared and Twilight could actually hear her teeth grinding, but she was smart enough to just hiss a, “Yes, Magister Sol Shard.” “That’s settled then,” the stallion declared. He turned around and walked toward the door. “Sunburst, come with me. I need you to walk me through everything you saw in that cave before the coven gets here tomorrow.” The yellow unicorn gave Trixie a sympathetic look, but he dutifully followed Sol Shard out the door.  Except for the beeping of the machines Twilight was hooked up to, the room was remarkably silent. Trixie was still staring at the door, lost in her own thoughts. Twilight could imagine what she was thinking, sympathetic link or no, after Trixie’s blow up in the desert at being similarly dismissed then. This time Twilight didn’t have any comfort to share and she tensed, waiting on the unicorn to explode.  Only, Trixie didn’t. She just sat there for a long moment, clearly seething, but she pushed away from the bed without a tantrum. “I’ll come back and see you tomorrow,” she said to Twilight. “We’ll go over the train tickets or something.”  That wasn’t right. Twilight wanted her to yell, or curse, or come up with some kind of joke. Not… wilt, defeated. “They’re wrong, Trixie,” Twilight blurted. It made the mare stop on the way to the door at least. “You’re a great magister. You… you saved my life, Trixie.”   Twilight heard the unicorn open her mouth, the click of her tongue as she tried to come up with something, but the soft click of her teeth as her mouth closed again heralded her leaving as much as the clink of the closing door did. Twilight slumped in her bed. She stared at the sword across the room, mind wandering, as a wave of exhaustion hit her.