Midnight fell over Canterlot in silence, a spark, and flames. Under the tranquility of twinkling stars overhead, the Canterlot Library was burning. The building’s signature aroma of aging paper transformed that night into the pungent odour of raging smoke. Inside eighty decibels of alarms screamed, only drowned out by approaching sirens.
From the sirens, a dozen masked unicorns approached the flames, emitting waterfalls from their horns. Pegasi overhead assembled, swirling clouds of magic, and as they burst open torrents of rain, the unicorns cast a secondary spell, engulfing the building’s reddish-yellows in a purple film, dulling the flame’s oscillation. A shout, and a final search-and-rescue team of earth ponies in fire suits penetrated the building, exhaling fully only once the building was cleared of ponies within.
A few minutes later, the flames subsided. Save for the strobing lights of emergency carriages, the scene resumed to one of a tranquil evening, the atmosphere convinced nothing had changed.
An hour later, in the depths of darkness of the hallways of Canterlot Castle, a nightwing galloped towards the royal chambers. His trot pounded on the evening’s silence as he approached; his hoof rapping on a majestic closed door dispelling the quiet for good.
“Princess Twilight Sparkle, your Honour. There is an urgent situation.”
Light creeped into the hall via the crack under the threshold. Hoofsteps muffled from within. The door swung open presenting a bleary-eyed but wide-awake head of state. “I’m listening.”
“Your Highness.” He bowed. “The Starswirl the Bearded Wing was destroyed in a fire.”
Twilight’s eyes bulged. “You aren’t serious.” She shook her front hoof with rapid pulses, tapping out the beat of a quick silent tune, an audience cheering in the form of floorboard creaking.
The guard winced. “I am deeply sorry to have disturbed your sleep hours before sunrise, Princess. The Guard is already at the scene. However, I was tasked to inform you given the sensitivity of the breach.”
“Breach?” Twilight scrunched her muzzle. “It wasn’t an accident from the building’s magilectric piping? Or the heating?” To herself she mumbled, “It wouldn’t be the first time in Equestria.”
The guard hesitated. “No, we don’t believe so. While environmental factors are certainly under consideration given the facility’s age, the Guard is investigating the destruction as a probable arson case.”
“I see.” Her hoof’s tapping accelerated. “Alright. Do you have a record of which scrolls were destroyed?”
The guard flashed a curt nod. “While triage is still in-progress, preliminary heuristic damage assessments are available on-scene.”
She inhaled with closed eyes, steadying her hoof. As she reopened my eyes, she closed the door behind her. “Very well. Thank you.”
A bright flash and the nightwing was left alone to patrol an empty hallway.
Elsewhere in Canterlot, dozens of uniformed ponies milled about the remnants of a library draped in caution tape as the princess popped onto the scene in a burst of light. A nearby royal aid approached her and bowed as she surveyed the scene. “Princess Twilight Sparkle.”
“Good morning.” She averted her eyes and continued with a nasal twinge. “Well, good might be pushing it. Early morning, regardless.”
The aid stared with a blank face, coloured by neither joy nor fear. “Have you been briefed, Your Highness?”
“Not in full, no.” Her eyes wandered towards the ashes in the distance. “The damage is worse than I feared.”
“Indeed.” The aid’s expression was still unchanged. Their hoof outstretched towards a nearby off-white, black-maned pegasus, whose golden halo cutie mark poked out beside her saddlebag. “Allow me to introduce you to the lead investigator, then.” At the turn of phrase, the pegasus’s ears tilted, leading her body to face the princess and the aid as she approached. “This is–”
“Guardian Angel, Director of Equestrian Intelligence,” the princess completed with a maternal smile. “My, how you’ve grown.”
Angel did return a smile, though not daughterly as much as smug, with piercing eye contact. “Twilight Sparkle, Headmare Emeritus, Harmony Incarnate, and Unelected Leader of Equestria and its Foreign Territories.” She threw a blank glance at the squirming aid, their composure finally broken by the recited titles. “We’ll take it from here, thanks.”
Twilight’s smile persisted as she dismissed her aid with a quick nod. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Angel. Although you must be aware that my titles abroad are merely honorific. I haven’t held political power outside Equestria since signing the Crystal Act.”
“Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that.” Angel shrugged. “Anyway, as much as I’d love to play catch-up and review your dubious political career overseas, there are slightly more pressing matters. Let’s walk.”
“Thank you.” Following Angel’s beckoning hoof and trot, Twilight approached the wreckage. “How extensive is the damage?”
A nod. “Eh, the rest of the library was unaffected. But the Starswirl Wing appears irreparable. And your little angel knows just how much you adored your precious little Starswirl Wing.” She pouted with an eye roll. “Too bad it’s gone, Princess Twi.”
“Yeah.” Twilight trailed off, eyes scanning the burnt ghosts left in lieu of the library, squinting as if to cry but with no tears. “I just can’t believe anypony would burn so many books. Do we know the motive?”
“Not yet. We did discover that all interior surveillance feeds were tampered with before the smoke alarms sounded. Yeah, emergency services looked about as clueless as you do now.” She hesitated. “Alarmingly, the feeds didn’t just cut out. They looped, so the on-site guards never detected an intrusion. If they had, the perpetrator likely would have been thwarted before the first flames went up.” Angel gritted her teeth. “Somepony magically tampered with the security.”
Twilight stopped walking, moving a lock of her mane with an idle hoof. “Curious.”
Angel too stopped, looking back from a few steps away. “Yeah, and there is no indication of forced entry. Besides the raging fire, of course. The building’s authentication charm never trigger. To sabotage the surveillance feed is difficult and limits the suspect pool to trained unicorns, at least as an accomplice. But to bypass royal authorization? Unless this was an inside job, the only pony I know with magic that powerful is…” She gasped. “Why, you, Princess Twilight.” She frowned. “Gosh, it must take some real hubris to come back to the crime scene for a briefing instead of fleeing to Yakyakistan.”
The princess squinted, muffling a snort. “Cute, but I was asleep in my castle. Your own guards can verify that.”
A juvenile grin. “Oh, I know, but come on, if it weren’t you, it’d be Queen Cadance. Then I’d get to kick in the international crew, and ooo, we’d have a diplomatic crisis on our hooves.” She licked her lips with a shrill giggle. “It’ll be October of 1015 all over again. I can already see the headlines.”
“Very funny.” Twilight deadpanned. “Regardless of baseless accusations against the former leader of Equestria’s closest ally – my own sister-in-law, as you know – I don’t understand why anypony would target the building surveillance. A simple invisibility spell would have sufficed. Why waste magic, exhausting yourself and outing yourself as a gifted magic user?”
Angel bit her lip. “The evidence is still tentative, but it is possible the true crime was theft, and the fire was merely a cover-up. Targeting the surveillance obscures which scrolls were stolen before the place was torched, right? Casting an invisibility spell on every book in the facility in addition to yourself is no easier than manipulating surveillance.”
“I see. What about the authentication charm?”
“The building was secured with biometrics, which is state-of-the-art for a library with an overdue book problem, but admittedly lacklustre for one holding classified scrolls.” She frowned. “Not that I’m accusing another one of Equestria’s allies or anything like that, of course – but say, any changeling could have walked through the front door undetected as long as they masked as an authorized pony.”
“Changelings?” A heavy pause. “I doubt even Chrysalis herself could have looped the surveillance feeds. And I know – knew – the Starswirl Wing like the back of my hoof. There’s little here of use to anypony but a powerful unicorn.”
Angel brightened. “Hey, there’s a thought: a changeling and a unicorn, magic duo. I get my international crisis cake and get to eat it too.”
“Right.” Twilight sighed. “Could I see the list of authorized visitors?”
“Sure thing.” Angel opened her bag with her mouth and fished out a copy of the access log, which levitated in a purple aura.
Lavender eyes darted through the document, followed by a frown. “Curious indeed. I need to see the list of scrolls missing or destroyed since the fire.” Angel withdrew another series of pages for inspection. “Interdimensional portals, enhanced transfiguration, time travel, limbo.” She looked down, choking over her words. “Dear Celestia, it’s all gone. All of it.”
Hesitation. “Those, yes. The scrolls by authors other than Starswirl do have copies in libraries across the nation, and we have all archives on high alert in case this was only the first of many fires. But yeah, everything by Starswirl and the originals of his contemporaries are gone.”
“I just…” Twilight tapped her hoof against her head repeatedly, mouth opening and closing in beat. “Thousands of moons of knowledge, gone in a matter of minutes. I refuse to believe any creature would commit a crime so vile.”
The pegasus batted her eyes, radiating innocence. “Gosh, I’m so sorry, Princess Twi-twi. Surely you couldn’t just cast a fancy spell to make all this mess disappear?”
Twilight paused her tapping but left her hoof hanging against the side of her head. “I could scan for magical signatures, which should minimally inform us of the species of the perpetrator, and if the criminal is known, we could cross-reference against the Guard’s signature database. It is worth a shot, I suppose.”
“Oh.” A heavy frown. “That sounds like alicorn search magic, huh? Without a court signing off on a warrant, that’s illegal, Miss Twilight Sparkle. And I thought for so long you were a good, law-abiding citizen just like me.” She shook her head, flipping her mane as she failed to conceal a satisfied grin.
Coldness froze the reply. “Then get me the damn warrant, Angel.” She closed her eyes and breathed. “Um. Please.”
A beat, then letting her smile overtake her, Angel produced the document from her bag for Twilight. “You’re welcome,” she sang.
Twilight let out a relieved smile, taking the document. “Thank you. I’m sorry I snapped at you.” The latter swatted her hoof warmly as Twilight read, years of speed-reading legalese to prepare for Court appearances paying off. “Hey. Are you sure this warrant is legitimate? Line three has a comma splice error, line seven uses intelligence jargon where legal terminology would be universally preferred, and the seal is smudged. Not to mention the official signature is, shall I say, illegible.”
Angel scoffed at the suggestion, bringing her eyes to the paper. “Gee, it sure looks real to me.” Before waiting for a response, she hissed, “I’d cast that spell if I were you, Princess. Wouldn’t want a book burner to get away with such a heinous crime now, would we?”
“Ugh.” Taking in the innocent eyes ahead of her and the damages lost to history, Twilight groaned. “Fine. But you didn’t see anything, okay?”
Angel smiled and closed her eyes. “I was never here.”
Shaking her head, Twilight inhaled and focused her gaze on the tattered form of the remnants of the Starswirl Wing, neon green magic forming a tornado around her horn until crossing a threshold that faded her eyes to blank pupil-free orbs and levitated her body a centimetre above the ground. “No,” she mumbled.
Angel peaked open her eyes with a knowing grin, watching as the magic around Twilight’s horn soon fizzled out into the atmosphere, returning her body gracefully to her hooves, and finally letting her pupils roll back into her head.
“Wowza, Twily. You totally did the thing for which no witnesses whatsoever were present.” She rolled her head around her shoulder and made eye contact with a huddled group of uniformed monochrome stallions, shouting, “Nothing to see here, guys.”
“No.” Twilight repeated. “No, it… it couldn’t be.”
“Couldn’t be what?”
She shook her head and paced in a wide ellipse centred around Angel. “You need to promise me this information will not leak beyond her inner circle until we can be certain she was the culprit. If I’m wrong – and I hope I am, giving the current evidence is nothing more than circumstantial, legitimate warrant or otherwise – the resulting reputation damage and potential for political unrest would be immense. Do you understand?”
Angel motioned across her mouth. “My lips are sealed, T. But you said her. Won’t you need to reference the national records to identify a suspect?”
Twilight sighed, letting her idle eyes roam along the background, locking with anything but the gaze of the mare in front of her. “I recognized two distinct signatures of unicorns with whom I have been dearly acquainted, as friends and colleagues alike. The first was a mare named Moondancer, a polymath researcher with security clearance, and many moons ago, my fillyhood best friend. Well, as much as either of us were friends with anypony back then. We haven’t spoken directly in quite sometime, but as I recall, Moondancer has carte blanche access to all national libraries to facilitate a sensitive research project that would certainly require her presence at the Starswirl Wing. Her name unsurprisingly appears on the access logs from every day in the past two weeks, and I have no reason to doubt the purity of her motives.”
“And the other?”
Twilight drooped, clicking her tongue. “The other belongs to a powerful magic user who had no discernible reason to be here and no records on the access log, a user more than capable of tampering with the surveillance feeds and bypassing the authentication charm. Given her capabilities, I am rather afraid to know what else she did on premises before the flames went up.”
Angel frowned. “Gosh, this girl sounds naughty alright. Remind you of anypony?”
“Unfortunately so,” Twilight stammered. “The signature is a perfect match to my reformed former student: Starlight Glimmer.”
“Oh-ho-ho!” Angel clapped her hooves. “I never thought I’d cross her path again.” She flapped her wings, hovering off the ground. “First time a former villain unreformed – things are getting spicy, hmm?”
“No,” Twilight shook her head. “Many moons before Starlight but after his own reformation, Discord betrayed us. Thankfully, he has kept well out of the limelight since the change of power.”
“Your change of power, Princess.”
“Regardless, Starlight more than simply reformed. She grew, far from not being evil like some reformed ponies, to being good.” She narrowed her eyes, in a jumbled mix of pride and shame. “Starlight Glimmer risked her life multiple times over for the good of our nation, Angel.”
“Yeah, friendship is magic, blah blah. Need I remind you she also risked it trying to destroy the nation?” She tapped her hoof against her head, winking.
“Yes, I suppose she did.” She closed her eyes and let her neck droop. “I don’t want to believe she’s behind all this. It makes no sense. Why betray Equestria – why betray me – after years dedicating to improving it?”
Angel clapped her hooves. “Sounds like we’ve got a pony to catch.”
“How so?” Twilight’s frown deepened. “What if this was a totally natural occurrence, and… No, that’s impossible. Maybe there was a glitch in the spell, or I misremembered her magical signature…. Oh, what if somepony is trying to frame her for the crime?” She blushed at Angel’s piercing stare. “Okay, I might be the teensiest bit biased.”
“Biased?” Angel flipped her stare to an off-sympathetic beam. “That’s what I’m here for. No matter how off-the-walls villain empathetic you get, and no matter how many crazy mind-altering spells you cast, I promise to be your objective, unrelenting pain-in-the-flank fist of justice.”
A tilted head bore neutral lips but touched eyes. “Thank you, I think.”
“Sure thing.” She pointed skyward. “Now we just have to find Starlight Shimmer, and you can prove her innocence.” Before Twilight could correct the last name or even express renewed gratitude, Angel continued, “Or I can prove her guilt as the case may be. Either way works for me.”
Twilight exhaled, a bit forcefully for a breath but not as powerful as a laugh. “Are the two of us playing good cop, bad cop then?”
“Nah, I see us more as an Angel-Devil pair.” She smiled a bit too wide, forming dimples. “Guess we’ll find out soon who’s who, but they don’t call me Angel for nothing.” She whispered, “It’s my angelic personality.”
A chuckle. “Regardless, I’m not familiar with contemporary techniques for finding ponies on the run. That’s more your department, isn’t it?”
Angel shrugged. “Usually, yes. But I’m sure somewhere in your crazy catalogue of alicorn magic, you have a princess ex machina for a situation like this.”
“No!” the alicorn princess cried out with pink denial engulfing her cheeks. “Technically yes, in the form of magic signature tracking spells, but you know as well as I do that they are proscribed for good reason. Imagine an Equestria where every individual and every organization from the Royal Guard to Flim Flam Enterprises could track the fine movements of magical creatures in real-time with neither their knowledge nor consent. Privacy as we know it would be dead.”
“Mm,” Angel murmured, her eyes rolling back to their upper left corners. “I do like the sound of that. Just imagine how much easier my job will get once you give me unfettered access to a spell like that.” A beat. “Say, I don’t suppose you can chain that with more alicorn magic to let a lowly little innocent pegasus cast that spell? I’m asking for a friend – you know how important the magic of friendship is.”
“No.” Twilight said coldly. “While I had memorized it for, ah, specialized reasons, this spell is absolutely proscribed and will stay as such, probably forever if it was among those lost in the fire. There is no way I would cast it without a warrant.”
The pegasus licked her lips. “Okay, then. Do you have a quill?”
Twilight raised an eyebrow but lit her horn and produced a refined quill with her cutie mark emblazoned. “Of course, I always have writing instruments handy. Especially this little bad boy, the brainchild of upcoming research from a team in Torontrot building devices that function like quills but with higher fidelity, revolutionizing academia as we–”
Angel stuffed her hoof against the princess’s lips. “You’re rambling, Twiggles. Could you hold this?” She released her hoof and gestured at the original warrant, which Twilight grabbed with a grumble. “Thank you. Now close your eyes.”
“What? Why?”
“Close your eyes,” she repeated forcefully, met with unquestioning compliance. A beat passed with some scratching noises obscured by an eyelid trap of darkness. “Now open.” The princess did so, and Angel gasped, “Look! The signed search warrant includes explicit blanket approval of princess tracking spells. What a coincidence! I guess we just needed to read the fine print, don’t you think?”
Twilight frowned. “You can’t just–”
“Shh,” Angel batted her eyes. “Nopony can prove anything at this point.”
“Ugh. Remind me how you of all ponies are leading Equestrian Intelligence, again?”
“Because” – Angel brought her muzzle close to Twilight’s, letting her breath be felt and heard with every word – “I’m so effective at my job.”
Twilight huffed. “We’ll discuss the legal and ethical implications of your unorthodox–”
“You might be surprised at how much happens under your nose. They’re actually quite orthodox by Guard standards.”
Cough. “As I was saying, we will discuss this as soon as this situation is resolved, do you understand?” She closed her eyes, locked her knees slightly, and as her horn sparked into a glow, “But for now…”
Her eyes remained close for the better part of a minute, her body shaking as visible streams of magic concentrate flowed bidirectionally across her pooling around her horn. At once, her eyes popped open replaced with solid black, unnoticed by the guards in the distance for the darkness blended in with the stars, mixing intrigue and trepidation in Angel watching across from her. Twilight mumbled incoherently, then at the sixty second mark, the black pits in her eyes drained downstream to the usual white backing of her eyeballs, pupils fading in as the magic flow tapered off from her body. In its place the magic left a frazzled mare with a strained face, teeth sinking down into her lip and ears perched park in shame.
“Did you find her?”
Twilight remained in silence until finally admitting, “No. I scanned the entirety of the world – Equestria and foreign nations alike – but Starlight Glimmer? She is nowhere in this world.”
“Gee, I guess she must have gone toast in the flames.” She donned a dramatic frown. “So sad.”
“Maybe,” Twilight replied distantly, memories of her former student flooding her as she allowed her hoof to vibrate. “And if so, we’ll know once the building’s remnants are fully processed. But the firefighters’ search and rescue team found nopony inside, dead or alive. If she is gone, I think we would have found out, and besides, Starlight was – is – far too clever to be outsmarted by fire of her own design.”
“Hmm, but you can’t just disappear out of the world, can you?”
“You can, unfortunately.” Twilight fidgeted with her mane. “In the castle, we have a portal to–” Twilight stopped herself. “Angel, have you been briefed on Project BIPED?”
“Sure thing, your ex girlfriend’s spooky plan to befriend the crazy hairless apes, right? Ooo, would that–”
“Yes– no– she’s not my ex– we aren’t– she wasn’t– I’m not–”
Angel smirked at the sputtering alicorn. “Consider me briefed then.”
Twilight shut her eyes, inhaling and exhaling for a count of one, two, three. With no further acknowledgements, she continued, “If Starlight breached castle security, she could have crossed the portal, and from the other side, she would not show up in a magic scan of our world. Hopping interdimensional portals would be an unconventional escape strategy for theft and arson, but believe me: stranger things have happened with that mare.”
Angel’s smirk only grew with each sentence, and she placed her hoof below her chin as an angelic gesture. “Sounds like we get the privilege of paying your monkey ex a visit.”
“Yeah,” Twilight said, fluffing her wings, face a bit dazed. “Sounds like we do.”
After the duo returned to the castle with a team of guards, they assembled in front of the mirror portal in the castle: three guards in front, three in back, and one on each side of Twilight and Angel, each armed with both magic and physical instruments. Angel announced as the form stabilized, “Enter on my count of three.” A paused allowed Twilight a moment to contemplate the tragic absurdity of requiring armed guards to meet with a long-time friend, who she noted was certainly nothing more or nothing less than a friend, all in service of hunting down her own former student. Her swirling thoughts shattered as Angel’s voice boomed, “Three!”, and a stampede of hooves entered and disappeared to interdimensional limbo.
Greeted by a familiar sensory overload world of swirling colours and contorted forms, Twilight stretched and spun, vaguely aware of the terror painted on the guards’ muzzles, though Angel remained calm throughout the process. In a blink, they swirled out, wobbling around but carrying human analogues of their Equestrian arms, put out in vague formation despite the interspecies vertigo afflicting everyone but the princess. At any rate, they were not defenseless – a good sign for moments after exiting, they were greeted by a familiar feminine human form staring at the assembly.
“Good morning.” The woman darted her eyes around the crowd of guards. “Uh-oh.” She smiled, clutching her waist with her hands. “To what do I owe the pleasure this time?”
“Sunset Shimmer.” Twilight stared blankly at the woman.
“Twilight Sparkle.” She stared back maintaining her smile. “You mind filling me in about what’s happening, or are we just playing name that pony with a bunch of menacing guards pointing weapons at me? Ooo, Princess Luna. No, no, Rarity.”
Before the princess could respond with something more regal than a stifled giggle, Angel cut in, voice dancing on the edge. “We are not at liberty to disclose details at this time. Nevertheless, though I am unsure how you are here awaiting us so immediately, we do have some questions for you.”
Sunset tilted an eyebrow. “I’m notified whenever anyone crosses the portal from either side. That should be in the BIPED paperwork.” She scratched the hair in front of her forehead. “Trust me, it really helps keep up the signal-to-monster ratio if my team can keep tabs on the border. The prime minister wanted to clamp down on irregular crossings, and this here is as irregular as it gets.” She let her gaze drop, finding its way to a weapon aimed at her chest from the nearest guard. “But seriously, this is getting weird. What’s up?”
Twilight began, “I’m looking–”
“–As stated, we are not able to disclose details at this time.,” Angel finished.
Twilight groaned, mentally running through the political calculus, the analysis of the capital required to tell Angel diplomatically to hush up so she could spill to Sunset. But Twilight respected a good protocol as much as anypony, and merely said, “Do you mind answering a few questions?” She paused and flashed a weak grin. “We can hug and catch-up after, don’t worry.”
Sunset hesitated, her grin falling but at once snapping back into place as the word hug bounced around the air. “Sure thing, Twi.”
Angel said, “Before we – before Twilight begins, do you consent to an integrity spell? I assume you’re familiar with the mechanics, but consenting would temporarily waive the right to privacy within the scope of the questioning.”
Sunset fixed her line-of-sight on the princess. “Twilight may cast it, yes.”
A nod, and a purple aura emanated from the pony princess’s lanky human body, power spreading haphazardly in all directions without a horn to focus the flow. Still, she mustered enough raw magic to cast the spell, enveloping Sunset in an analogous glow accompanied by a lavender tilt to the iris. Drowsy, Sunset spoke, “I swear to tell the truth and only the truth to any of my Twilight’s questions.”
“Your Twilight?” Angel huffed. “You won’t answer my questions?”
Greeted by silence, Twilight asked, “Will you answer Angel’s questions?” As Sunset shook her head in reply, Angel scowled.
“Very well,” Twilight continued. “Guards, you may lower your arms. She is not a threat under the spell’s influence.” As they did so, Twilight repeated with a curious lilt, “Are you a threat otherwise?”
“No.” Abrupt and distant, but evidently honest.
The princess nodded. “Do you know why you are being questioned?”
“No.”
Murmurs set upon Angel’s pouting lips.
“Have you heard from Starlight Glimmer?”
“Yes.”
Another stream of murmurs intensified, including among some of the guards.
“When? Under what circumstances? Was she in distress? Were you?”
“Last December on Hearth’s Warming Eve.” Sunset paused. “I was in attendance at your Princess Friends and Family Winter Celebration at your Ponyville castle. Starlight was also in attendance, hence our meeting.” Another pause. “Not to my knowledge, no, she was not in distress.” Silence. “Yes, I was. I had been menstruating before crossing the portal, and the associated cramps crossed over to Equestria with me. I am unaware of the specific details of the portal’s magic enabling the carry over, but it synchronized with my estrus cycle on this side of the portal.”
A few guards in the back of the formation found themselves looking anywhere but Sunset as she spoke. Even Twilight found herself pink, though Angel was evidently unaffected.
“Honest, I suppose.” Twilight looked up. “Do you know where Starlight presently is?”
“No.”
“Do you know of any way we might find her?”
“Yes.” Sunset responded mechanically as heads tilted her way. “You could make a list of her known prior movements and associates, and ask relevant individuals about her plans and historical whereabouts to gain further information targeting a search. Where exempted by law, you could also use tracking spells. Additionally, you could–”
“Okay,” Twilight interrupted. “That’s enough.” At Sunset’s immediate silence, Twilight hesitated but asked, “What did you mean when you said my Twilight?”
“We were close, and though our communications have tapered as we have each aged in our separate lives, to me we remain close.” Sunset paused and robotically declared, “Whatever happens between us, you will always be my Twilight.”
Twilight allowed silence to fill the atmosphere, finally pronouncing, “That’s enough.” Another purple aura enveloped her, and as it made its way over the guards, it magnetically pulled its counterpart aura from within Sunset, the tint in her eyes fading as it moved out. The auras collided halfway between Sunset and Twilight, neutralizing each other in the process and misting into the aether. “Thank you for your time.”
Sunset shook her head, smiling. “So we can stop being so weird now?”
Angel responded, “While you have answered the questions to my satisfaction, and while your credentials within the Equestrian government are impressive, the Royal Guard’s investigation is confidential. If you were already familiar with the details of the search, okay, but at the moment, I am not at liberty to disclose further information. Thank you for your cooperation in securing the future of Equestria.”
Sunset frowned. “Cooperation in securing the future of Equestria? What, are you Equestria’s new Minister of Propaganda?” She stole Twilight’s eyes with a teasing grin. “C’mon, you never introduced me to your new friend.”
Twilight let slip a giggle. “Guardian Angel.”
“That’s Ms. Angel to you!”
Sunset giggled back. “Pleased to meet you. Minus all the threatening my life bits, of course.”
Cutting her way through the guards and interrupting any opportunity for Angel to retort, Twilight approached Sunset with open arms. “Hug?”
“Hug,” Sunset replied, and they embraced. Sunset’s eyes faded to white in the warmth of the embrace, and Twilight could feel pressed up against her breast the outline of a geode occluded by Sunset’s jacket. An affectionate moment later, Sunset’s eyes returned to normal, and she whispered into Twilight’s ear, “Thanks.”
Twilight rested her head on Sunset’s shoulder and nuzzled their cheeks together, turning Sunset’s a faint crimson. “Anytime,” she whispered back.
Angel cleared her throat. “As endearing as this is to watch, Princess Twilight Sparkle” – Angel narrowed her eyes – “the Guard must be returning to Canterlot to resume the investigation.”
Twilight turned back. “Right, of course.”
“I’m coming.” Sunset blurted.
All eyes turned to Sunset, Angel’s among them. “As I stated, due to security protocols in place due to the case’s confidentiality, we are unable to accommodate extraneous personnel.”
“I said I’m coming,” Sunset repeated, voice steadying with each word. “I’m an Equestrian citizen expatriated under a diplomatic visa. I’m allowed in Canterlot, aren’t I?”
“Well, yes, but–”
“Then I’m coming.” Sunset punctuated her remark with a half-smile, lips curling back to reveal the outlines of human teeth.
“Fine.” Angel sighed. “Let’s go.” She called back group formation in front of the puzzle, and said, “Move on three.”
Though twelve ponies emerged from Equestria, after three seconds, thirteen returned.
The thirteenth returning with a toothy ruddy grin, body pressed up against a certain familiar purple princess.
Across the portal, Twilight and Sunset gracefully returned their hooves to the ground as the guards attempted to rebalance in their equine forms. Catching Angel’s eye, Twilight said, “I have business in the castle to attend to. We will reconvene this afternoon. Angel, in addition to the continued search on site, please dispatch guards to follow up on Moondancer. Castle staff may reach me in case of emergency. Otherwise, you are dismissed. Thank you.”
The guards saluted and exited to the adjacent corridor, filing off in different directions. Angel threw one last glance at Twilight, who shook her head, finally prompting Angel to join the departing Guard.
Sunset headed towards the door. “I, uh, good luck with dealing whatever business you said you had. I guess I’ll be off figuring out where I’m sleeping tonight; I don’t have too many friends on this side of the portal with couches to bum off.” She raised an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure I can find a B&B in Canterlot, if I can figure out what I did with all my Equestrian bits.”
“Wait.” Twilight trotted towards the door and reached her hoof towards her companion. Sunset met her eyes with a strained smile. “You’re the business.”
“Oh?” Sunset blinked. “Oh!” A smile slithered on. “In that case, could I ask you a weird question?”
“Always.”
Sunset darted away her gaze. “Could I hug you? Again? I was too focused on analyzing your emotional state via the geode to really take you in.” She coughed. “Uh, take the hug in.”
“Oh.” Twilight stepped forward to meet Sunset face to face, and wrapped her hooves around the smiling, warm, and did she mention soft? pony in front of her. “I’ve missed you, Sunset.”
Sunset craned her neck around Twilight’s. “Are we allowed to talk about that? Because I’ve missed you more than you know.” As Twilight opened her mouth, Sunset quickly added, “More than you want to know, honestly.”
Twilight tilted her head. “We’re friends. Of course we’ve missed each other, and of course we can talk about our feelings about each other as friends. What’s the issue?”
“I meant giving what happened after the Battle of the B–” Sunset searched for Twilight’s eyes, cheeks warm and eyebrows soft. With a loving smile, she shook her head. “Actually, never mind. I definitely miss you though.”
“Alright.” Twilight passed through the door and waved her hoof. “I still haven’t eaten breakfast. I don’t suppose we could catch up in the castle dining room?”
“Hmm, I’d have to think about it. A meal prepared by the royal chef, in a castle, shared with my dear friend Princess Twilight Sparkle.” She reached out and booped Twilight’s nose with a grin, as Twilight stared back unprotesting. “I think I could squeeze you in my schedule.”
Twilight’s lips curled up as she trotted side-by-side towards the dining hall. “It’s really good to see you. Diplomacy in the capital gets lonely.”
“Oh, is single-handedly governing a nation-state that tricky?” Sunset smirked, lightly punching Twilight’s shoulder. “Kidding, though if you ever get bored with your job, you could always try holding an election. It worked for Cadance, didn’t it?”
Twilight snickered. “If by worked you mean Flurry Heart at age fourteen was a few dozen votes away from becoming the first Prime Minister of the Crystal Empire, then yes, it did.”
“Parents have to get vacation days somehow.” Sunset flashed her tongue.
The princess shook her head and inched herself closer to Sunset’s side. “I don’t know. I’ve had a lot on my mind, and with the Starswirl Wing being burned down last night, politics are on hold since we’re in crisis mode.” The princess hushed her voice and passed her eyes through the room, as if to check if Angel was surveilling her from afar. “You know as well as I that any one of the stolen spells could threaten the security of Equestria if unmitigated. The last time we had a crisis this severe was–” Twilight stopped herself. “Well, last Tuesday?” She laughed emptily. “No rest for the winged.”
Sunset creased her eyebrows, resting her hoof over the gem necklace hanging from on her chest. “But that’s not what’s on your mind, is it?”
Twilight paused, both in speech and in trot, eventually saying, “No.” She bit her lip and resumed her trot in silence.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Hesitation as Twilight frowned. “No. Yes. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just feeling conflicted about all the evidence pointing to Starlight Glimmer being the culprit. She was my own student. I loved her.” She curled her lip. “I still love her. Ever since she moved to the Crystal Empire, our friendship has grown distant. She did attend a conference during the last Council of Friendship meeting, so it’s been about six weeks since I’ve heard from her at all.”
Sunset mirrored Twilight’s frown. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Twilight whispered, “Me too.”
“Do you think she’s guilty?”
“Maybe?” Twilight tapped her hoof. “I don’t really believe it for a second. I know she’s physically capable of committing crimes far more delicate than arson or theft, but never in a thousand moons would I suspect she actually would post-reformation.” The tapping intensified, with winces accompanying each hit. “But we have been growing distant, settling into our respective lives hundreds of kilometers away. Part of me wonders if I don’t know her as well as I used to. Part of me is willing to believe she really is guilty. Even entertaining a thought like that makes me feel guilty.”
Sunset nodded as Twilight abruptly stopped in front of massive double doors which opened themselves with a lavender glow. “Madeleine?” she called out.
“Good morning, your Highness. Shall I prepare your usual for breakfast?” A yellow earth pony emerged with a white coat and a short mane folded back in a curl. She turned to face Sunset. “And, oh my, you have a plus-one, hein?”
“Pardon?” The duo stepped through the door and towards the long centre table. Twilight turned to Sunset and said, “What do you want?” Sunset grew a faint shade of pink as she whispered a response, unintelligible to outsiders.
Giggling, Twilight said, “Could you prepare some, ah, pancakes with fruit jam?” She bit the bottom of her lip in a foalish smile. “Make it a double order, please. Thank you.”
Madeleine nodded warmly. “Of course. I will have them ready for you and your Lady in about ten minutes.”
As she retreated into the adjacent kitchen, Sunset let out a laugh. “A plus-one? Your lady?” She waggled her eyebrows. “Aren’t I a special one today?”
Twilight tilted her head quizzically. “You’re always special to me, Sunset.”
“Oh?” Sunset opened and closed her mouth silently. “You’re special to me, too, Twilight.” Under her breath but still audibly, she mumbled, “Really special.”
Twilight stared back at Sunset, gaze blank but warm.
Sunset hung her mouth open for a beat, then closed it breaking off eye contact. “Anyway.” A whistle. “So it’s just Starlight on your mind, then?”
After a moment, Twilight said, “No. There was another name I saw today. One I haven’t seen in years.”
Sunset nodded slowly. “Right. I saw another pony in your mind who I didn’t recognize. Tan coat, bangs like yours?”
“Moondancer.” Twilight exhaled. “My fillyhood best friend. We didn’t have the strongest friendship, but we did have each other. Besides, she was my first.”
Sunset snorted. “I thought I was your first. You know, after the Dazzlings–” Met with an embarrassed glare, Sunset quickly said, “Sorry. Continue.”
“Thanks.” Twilight pushed her tongue against her lip from within her mouth, a bulge protruding. “Moondancer was like me, in ways nopony else I knew back then was, and few ponies I’ve known since then have been. I cherish my friendships with ponies like you or Rarity or Fluttershy, but with Moondancer, there was a deeper connection. Similarities in interests and outlook on life that not many ponies anywhere seem to share with me.”
Sunset nodded.
Twilight turned to white and hastily added, “Though there were ways in which were nothing alike at all, of course.”
“Yeah?”
“Like the fact that Moondancer is–” Twilight looked away. “Never mind. It isn’t right to gossip. It’s her story, not mine.”
“Fair enough.” Sunset raised an eyebrow as a smirk set on her lips. “Hey, not to change the subject or anything, but any chance you want another hug?”
“Hugs are always good with me.”
She looked into Twilight’s eyes with mirth and wrapped her with her hooves, eyes flashing white with the contact. As she released, she muttered, “Ah.” Twilight’s mouth hung open. “Sorry.”
Groan. “Well, now you know.”
Sunset nodded distantly. “I guess I do. But I don’t see why this is such a bad thing.”
“It’s not.” Twilight bit her lip. “Usually. She was always just so different, and I was the only pony who didn’t seem to notice at the time.” Her volume dropped with her gaze. “Sometimes I wonder if the only reason she stuck with me was a lack of options. We had other friends in theory, but in practice if we weren’t together, we were with our families or alone.”
“I’m sure that isn’t true. You’re a wonderful friend.”
“Maybe now, but back then? I’m not embarrassed by my past, but…”
“My past is not today?” Sunset grinned, biting her cheeks. “I get it.”
The pair shared a moment of eye contact, interrupted only by Madeleine walking into the room balancing two dishes on her back. “Good morning once again, Your Highness and company.”
Twilight straightened her posture. “Thank you.”
Sunset eyed the pancakes. “Gah, that looks delicious.”
Madeleine gave a slight nod. “Thank you, Miss.” She set down the plates onto the table, distributing them in front of each pony. “Bon appétit.” She glanced once more at Sunset and winked. “And bonne chance.”
As she trotted back to the kitchen, Sunset stared at her dish, digging in aggressively for a first bite as soon as Madeleine was out of sight. With an over-enunciated swallow, she beamed. “That’s the stuff.”
Twilight levitated a silver knife and cut a small piece of her own pancake, which she levitated into her mouth. “It’s good, huh?”
“Good?” Sunset took in another bite. “I don’t think food this delicious exists on the other side of the mirror. No magic, no magical pancakes – I really got the short-end of the stick with my diplomatic duties, didn’t I?”
Twilight swallowed and giggled. “You’re always welcome here. Do tell me you’re here to see me, though, and not just the food.”
Another bite, less messy now that she bothered to take a utensil. “Of course I’d be coming to see you. You’re my friend.” She let her utensils hover unused for a moment. “Not that I wouldn’t also be coming to see the food.”
“But mostly me?”
Sunset brought her hoof to Twilight’s cheek. “But mostly you.”
A sigh. “That’s all I needed to hear then.”
“What, feeling insecure about our friendship?”
“No,” Twilight said. “Just about my cooking abilities.”
A laugh. “Fair enough. Better than feeling insecure about our history.”
“What do you mean?”
“I just mean – and I know it was years ago – I’ve thought a lot about you since the night we kissed.”
Blink. “We didn’t kiss. You kissed me.”
Sunset made a downward stroke with her hoof on Twilight’s nose. “Well, you pressed your lips against mine, and then I kissed you. So you’re technically correct.”
A swift nod. “Technically correct is the only kind of correct. Anyway, you were saying?”
Sunset sighed. “It’s nothing. I love you, Twilight.”
A smile, genuine from the eyes to the mouth. “I love you too, Sunset.”
“Promise me whatever happens going forward, you never forget–”
Knock. Knock. Knock. Fwoosh.
All eyes turned to a out-of-breath member of the Royal Guard standing at the threshold of the dining room. “Princess Twilight Sparkle, Director Guardian Angel requires your immediate presence. There has been an urgent escalation in the investigation.”
Sunset mumbled to herself, “I guess I crashed the party on the right day,” eliciting a half-giggle from Twilight quickly buried under the royal mask of leadership.
“Let us see the coordinates for teleportation then.”
The guard moved his eyes from Twilight’s to Sunset and back to Twilight’s. “Only your presence was requested by the Director, your Highness.”
Twilight dropped her eyebrows. “I am aware of what Guardian Angel requested. As the Princess, I counter-request that Equestrian diplomat Sunset Shimmer join me, regardless of Guardian Angel’s original wishes. Thank you.”
A meek nod from the guard and a beat of hesitation. Strained, he said, “Of course, your majesty,” and produced a small scrap of paper containing coordinates identifiable as somewhere within the city.
“Thank you.” Twilight turned to Sunset. “You ready?”
“It’s been a lot of years since I’ve practiced this spell.” Sunset shifted. “But hey, no time like the present.”
With a quick brush of hooves and a flash of light, they were gone, leaving the guard alone with two plates, some crumbs, and a half-eaten pancake.
On the other side of the spark, the duo appeared in a dim windowless room illuminated by the whirring light of magilectric devices lining the tables: a makeshift laboratory. By then the chatter of the Royal Guard hurrying around the scene replaced any dark tranquility the room once possessed. As the girls popped in, several heads turned their way, Angel’s included. “So you decided to show up, and– Oh. I see you brought your ex-girlfriend.”
“What do you want, Angel?”
“Gosh, I just wanted to help you.” A bleak smile. “Because we just found a perpetrator.”
Two pairs of ears tilted towards Angel as Twilight asked, “Who? Where are we?”
Angel waved her hoof in a wide circle. “Welcome to the basement of a Miss Moondancer.”
“Moondancer.” A pair of voices repeated in unison.
Angel brought her hoof to her heart, bending her head slightly with a tense smile. “That’s the pony. Say, Twilight, wasn’t it you who asked me to look into her? That means you must have suspected something,” – Angel grinned – “because you know that no matter how squeaky clean a pony might be, I can find dirt on her. And boy, oh boy, what dirt did I find.”
Twilight shook herself, body vibrating as she huffed out words. “I didn’t mean– I just thought– I didn’t know– I wondered–”
Sunset raised her hoof to Twilight’s pounding chest. “Twilight was just trying to be thorough in the investigation, no ulterior motive.”
A whisper. “Thank you.”
Angel shrugged. “Be that as it may, we discovered your old fillyfriend has ties to King Sombra.”
“She what?”
“Gee, you don’t think I would lie about an Equestrian citizen being connected to the cult worship of a dead foreign demagogue?” Angel frowned. “Actually, I would. But it’s the truth this time.” She clapped her hooves. “Come see for yourself.”
Twilight sunk her teeth into the threshold between her lower lip and her chin, letting the dull pain and shaky hoof contrast against her rapid breathing and stomach knot. Sunset brushed their legs together, a gesture that forced a smile onto Twilight’s lips but producing little effect on her breathing.
The two followed Angel over to a nearby desk, housing a blinking device and a messy stack of scarcely illuminated pieces of paper. All but one contained hornwritten scrawls illegible to the untrained eye. But the lone page, centred on the desk and propped up against a light-emitted device, contained a large flow chart with perfect lettering. At the top was the text “Starswirl the Bearded” with an arrow extending from it and looping immediately back. Below it and connected by an arrow was “Twilight Sparkle”, again with its own looping arrow. A pair of bidirectional arrows to the left connected Twilight’s name to “Starlight Glimmer”.
Twilight’s jaw dropped as she read the final name, in much larger than the rest: “Sombra”, with a dashed arrow extending from her own name to his, and a dashed arrow extending from his name back to Starswirl’s on the top of the page, forming loops nested in loops.
“If that’s not cult symbolism, I don’t know what is.” Angel licked her lips. “Oh, it could be a death threat, of course. Either way, Princess Twiggles.”
“I beg your pardon?” Twilight swung her arm in front of a ruddy, huffing Sunset.
“Gee, I don’t know.” Angel placed her hoof on the diagram. “But Starswirl the Bearded passed away years ago, Sombra several years before that, and Starlight Glimmer went missing in a library fire last night – the very same fire Moondancer was at per your own admission. Gosh, the only living name on Moonie’s cult chart is…” Angel shrugged. “You, Princess T.”
Twilight scrunched her muzzle. “That can’t be right. What about all the arrows?”
“Arrows connecting all her different attacks, maybe?” Angel flipped her mane. “I’d assign you additional bodyguards, unless you have so much counterfactual faith in your old fillyfriend that you’d rather not. But look on the bright side, we found your library arsonist.” She beamed. “Tada.”
Sunset peered around the desk and picked up one of the papers in her hooves. With a burst of magic, the tip of her horn became a source of radial light, and she squinted her eyes moving across the page.
Angel snickered. “Good luck reading her deranged ramblings; it’s all gibberish. We’ve sent in copies to our forensic headquarters for analysis, but you won’t–”
“Time travel.”
“What?”
“The chart reflects time travel.”
Angel’s grin dropped as her eyes turned to slits. “You know this how, pony who conveniently shows up the morning after a crime is committed?”
“Pony who you crossed the dimensional barrier to seek out and accuse of crimes until she proved her own innocence in violation of Section IX of the Equestrian Constitution.” Sunset rolled her eyes. “And this isn’t gibberish – it’s just French. Which, I mean, okay.” She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I see the mix-up now.”
Twilight brightened, both in demeanor and faintly in colour. “You can read French?”
“My colleagues back home seem to think so. Honestly, it just looks like Old Ponish with terrible grammar if I squint hard enough. Regardless, it doesn’t take a genius to recognize cognates about signal processing and chronological…” Sunset dropped, eyes bulging. “Hold on a second.”
She stared blankly at the page. Finally, she closed her eyes and with a beat of grunting emitted a small glowing spark from the tip of her horn, then a second spark, then a third, until eventually a warm glow circled her horn. With a moan, the magic glow drifted off her horn and into midair, forming a projected rectangle floating in front of her, and with a final exertion as she peaked open her eyes, words and arrows formed in the air.
The same words and arrows found in Moondancer’s notebook.
Twilight gasped. “Is that…?”
“It’s…” Sunset’s words faltered as her eyes opened with new dark circles, the image collapsing back into a stream of amorphous glow returning into her via the tip of her horn. “It’s real.”
She compressed her hind legs and gently placed herself on the floor, wheezing. “See the notebook.”
Twilight grabbed hold of the notebook, eyes flickering aimlessly. Sunset said, “Second paragraph from the bottom,” and Twilight’s eyes locked, mouth drifting open as her hoof tapped against the floor.
“A catalogue of time travelers, sorted chronologically.”
“Chronologically?” Angel asked. “The arrows are pointing in all sorts of crazy directions, and it’s not even a straight line. Hardly chronological if you ask me.”
Sunset wheezed. “Time isn’t… Twilight, if you could…”
Twilight kneeled down and held Sunset in her hooves, keeping her eyes fixated on the top ruffles of Sunset’s mane as she said, “Time isn’t linear in the fashion most ponies intuitively expect. Mathematically, there does not exist a total order of events in the universe, or even a partial order. Indeed, the existence of time travel in itself violates the fantasy of causal ordering.”
Angel grumbled. “English, Big T.”
Twilight rolled her hoof around Sunset’s mane, a small smile forming at the ticklish sensation of her hoof brushing against hair strands. “Other than that required by the second law of thermodynamics – which in and of itself is only valid from a particular temporal perspective – physics does not define an arrow of time.” She blinked. “Sorry, English. Our sense of time and our ideas of past, present, and future are the work of magic, as it relates to consciousness. Time magic, not the work of a unicorn but of the magic of the universe itself. That means time magic, as accessible to skilled unicorns, can stop, traverse, or even reverse the flow of time along a particular timeline.”
“But then the chart…”
“So, if I understand the spell correctly, the chart displays time travelers visible in our timeline regardless of the timeline of their time travel. Starlight Glimmer traveled in time years ago, affecting many other timelines, but ultimately imposing no change on our own timeline, hence why she is branched off. If time were linear and one-dimensional, the chart would be linear, and indeed, empty. That there are names occupying a two-dimensional plane reflects a much more nuanced reality.” Twilight’s ears folded back. “I’m not sure what the arrows mean yet. It’s also peculiar that there was a thousand year gap between my time travel and Starswirl’s.”
Angel shrugged. “That doesn’t seem so peculiar. Starswirl’s spells were highly concealed and proscribed. I read up on your old little time loop, and it didn’t sound like you would have cast the spell if fate had not intervened, right? And who knows, maybe Starlight would never have learned about the time spells if she hadn’t heard about you casting them first.”
Twilight contorted her eyebrows. “Could be. Would that implicate me in all of this then?”
Angel beamed. “Sounds like it.”
“Lovely,” Twilight said, shaking her head.
Sunset moaned. “Sombra.”
Angel gritted her teeth. “Yeah. Does this mean King Sombra was a time traveler?”
Twilight buried her eyes deeper into Sunset’s head. “I couldn’t say. But I have a bad feeling about…”
“Uh, T?”
“Oh dear.” Twilight threw her head around her neck. “No, no, no, no, no. Angel, the warrant, please.”
Angel tipped her eyebrows upward and produced the document from her bag. “Need any amendments? I’m sure there’s a qualified impartial judge that miraculously happens to be roaming around this exact underground laboratory who could sign off on a change.”
“What a miracle,” Twilight said flatly. “But no, I need to cast the tracking spell.”
“Nopony’s stopping you.”
“Right.” Twilight inhaled, closed her eyes, and let magic flow around her body. The bright magic streams contrasted against the dim room, attracting the nervous gazes of on-scene guards, met only with Angel’s fiery stares forcing their eyes to concentrate anywhere but. In muddied privacy, Twilight’s eyes popped up and once again blackened, staying as such for twice as long as before. Sunset inched her neck upward, opening her mouth at the sight but producing no sound, while Guardian Angel lived up to her name.
Soon enough, Twilight’s eyes streamed back to white accompanied by a dull countenance. “I have good news and bad news.”
Sunset mumbled out a hmm while Angel met her eyes expectantly, as Twilight cowered into herself but dared not break eye contact.
“Good news: Sombra is not anywhere in this world. I don’t think we’re at imminent threat from powers of the past seeping into the present.” She pressed her tongue against the inside of her cheek. “Bad news: neither is Moondancer. Given the state of the laboratory, she must have been in Canterlot recently. But now she simply does not exist, same as Starlight, same as Sombra.”
“Ooo, so it’s double good news.” Angel smiled, counting on her hooves. “Three magic villains, two missing ponies, and a partridge in a pear tree. I don’t know about you, T, but Hearth’s Warming Eve sure is coming early.”
Sunset mumbled, inhaled, and attempted to get up, falling over and cuddling back up against Twilight’s embrace. “Moondancer going missing is hardly good news.”
Angel frowned. “It’s a perfectly good solution to her Sombra cult, isn’t it?”
“Didn’t we just establish there is no Sombra cult?”
“You can’t prove a negative,” Angel sung with an uptilt.
“Ugh.”
Twilight sighed. “It doesn’t look like there is an immediate danger at any rate. Perhaps forensics can decipher some meaning out of all this. Naively, I want to think this is an irrelevant artefact of Moondancer’s eccentric research interests, but the coincidences are too great.”
“Coincidences?”
“Time magic.” Twilight swallowed. “The time spells were among those lost in the fire. I hope I’m wrong, but what if this is bigger than we thought?”
Angel sneered, “Bigger than a time traveling, kidnapping Sombra cult?”
“I don’t know.” Twilight buried her head into Sunset’s. “Unfortunately, if there’s no immediate threat, I do need to return to the castle to catch up on court backlog before the nobility eats me alive. If anything turns up, you know where to find me.” She frowned. “Sunset, are you up for teleporting?”
Sunset closed her eyes and tried to muster out a spark. “Sure,” she said. “In a few hours.”
“Figured. Do you mind if I teleport you with me?”
Sunset breathed with a faint smile dancing around a tired muzzle. “You? You can take me anywhere you want, Twilight Sparkle.”
Twilight blinked and chalked about the choice of words to magic exhaustion. “Alright. On three, then.” Sunset nodded. “One, two, three…”
Pop, and they were alone.