“Welcome to the Crystal Empire, Twilight Sparkle,” the old unicorn stallion said. His coat was a dusky grey, disappearing so smoothly into the shadows of his thick hides that his body appeared almost made of glittering smoke. “I am Smoke Quartz, twelfth regent of the West Face.”
“And I am Arctic Rose, tenth regent of the East Face.” The unicorn mare bowed where she sat opposite him. The colorful crystals woven into her greying pink mane chimed softly as she moved. “I welcome you to the Crystal Empire, Twilight Sparkle.”
Last to speak was the pegasus mare sitting between them, the youngest of the three, though still venerable in her own right. She wore less clothing, and her body was so translucent in the firelight that for a moment Twilight imagined she was looking at a ghost. “My name is Ametrine. As the twelfth regent of the South Face, I welcome you to the Crystal Empire.” She smiled as she bowed, her long mane tickling the floor between her hooves. “You honor me greatly with your arrival, Twilight Sparkle.”
So polite, Midnight mused. It is good of them to know their place. What are you doing?
Twilight was already bowing back, a wide smile on her face. These ponies don’t see us as monsters, Midnight. We should show them the same respect they show us.
They may not think us a monster, but they think us something. Something greater. You lower us to their level.
I’m not looking for servants. Twilight lifted her head, and the three regents followed suit. To her surprise, the ponies watching from the edges of the room had bowed as well. “The pleasure is mine, really. I’ve come a long way with many questions, and you have no idea how relieved I am to be able to speak to you like this!” She paused to take a breath before her excitement got the better of her. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
Ametrine shook her head softly. “We’ve been waiting for you since marking your ship, just before the storm. Though we were not expecting a chosen.”
“Not expecting it, but it aligns with the snow,” Arctic Rose added. “A strong fall from the east. The flurry favors your visit.”
Smoke Quartz nodded. “It’s been centuries since Equestrian eyes shone upon the Empire. Have you brought the stock we agreed upon? We can have food brought, if you’d like to discuss trade.”
Twilight’s brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, but there must be some misunderstanding. We didn’t know you were here until we saw you, and we didn’t bring anything to trade. We’re… explorers.” It was the easiest way to explain it. “To my knowledge, nobody in Equestria knows you’re here.”
The regents frowned, looking among themselves. Smoke spoke first, eyeing her with a new curiosity. “You do not know Count Deep Diver?”
Twilight cocked her head, thinking it over. She wasn’t the first Equestrian to discover this settlement? It made sense; the evidence suggested that the city had been here at least before the floods, which gave at least half a millenia for explorers venturing north to find it. The way the regents spoke gave her the impression that some kind of regular trade deal had been struck, but then why did nobody in Equestria seem to know about the city now? Perhaps the ponies on the Equestrian side had kept it as a trade secret, and it had died along with them? How did this city maintain such secrecy despite being so developed?
With a sigh, she shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t. Whatever trade deal you made, I’m afraid it’s been forgotten. Please, do you have time to answer some questions?” Her horn glowed as she pulled her brother’s notebook and a pen out of her saddlebag, flipping to an open page with a hopeful smile. “Or maybe schedule an appointment, otherwise?”
Smoke Quartz arched a brow, but Arctic Rose answered her with a slow nod. “Trade or not, you are our guest, and chosen. We are honored to assist.”
Twilight grinned. Finally, answers! She was just opening her saddlebag and reaching for Shining Armor’s journal when Smoke stomped a hoof, the sharp crack of the impact drawing her attention. He was watching her with narrowed eyes. Had she done something wrong?
“I will ask my question first, one which I think sits in all minds assembled here today.” He glanced towards the other two regents, waiting to see if they’d interrupt him. “Do you know the Shaper, Twilight Sparkle?”
Twilight blinked. Was he suspicious of her? “I… I don’t know. I’ve never heard the name until today, but perhaps you could explain who they are?” She slowly pulled Shining’s journal out and began to levitate it before her, watching for any negative reaction to her magic, but she saw only curiosity, wonder, and confusion around her. “I might know them by another name.”
Ametrine answered with a warm smile, far more inviting than Smoke’s piercing stare. “The Shaper saved us, raising us above the ice during the flood that formed the world. They taught us to carve crystal into our homes, to hunt the beasts that travel in the frost, and to control the darkness that lives in our hearts.” She looked up to the circle of strange black crystal that sat between her and the other two regents.
Following her gaze, Twilight noticed a shimmering crystal statue raised in the center of the circle, tall enough to be seen from all around the room. Two maneless heads shared a single body, each facing an opposite direction and looking resolutely forward with smooth, blank eyes. One head was slender and elegant, appearing strangely familiar to Twilight, while the other projected masculine authority. The first head had a long, slender horn that reminded Twilight of Princess Celestia, a stark contrast to the short, sharp-edged horn that curved out of the crown of the other. They both shared a single neck that swelled out into an oversized, angular heart shape. A single wing flared out opposite the heart, like it was growing from the middle of the two-headed pony’s back.
Twilight blinked, her eyes sliding off the black crystals that hemmed in the statue like a glittering palisade.
After a brief pause, Ametrine continued. “They make their home deep in the Spire where they protect us still, warding off the creatures of darkness that attempt to rise from beneath the ice, and we live our lives by the code they established long ago.”
Arctic Rose nodded. “You express the signs of the Shaper’s blessing, Twilight Sparkle, and they’re stronger than I’ve ever seen. I cannot recall any stories of the Shaper ever choosing an Equestrian to aid in the battle, but it is clear you have been chosen, and you’ve been brought here from very far away.”
Twilight’s brow furrowed as she took it all in. It was clear to her by now that the Shaper was more of a religious symbol than an actual pony, but there was still much she could learn from the legend. The rest of Equestria had developed new religions around the Princesses after all, and so perhaps this Shaper was based on a real pony as well—or more likely, two ponies.
Could one of them be Cadance? She bit her lip as she glanced back to the long horn of the more feminine figure. It was a long shot to identify the bust as anyone with the near total lack of identifying features, but it was clearly an alicorn’s horn. And besides that, who could have inspired the masculine image?
Twilight jotted down a few notes for later. “How come I haven’t seen any other chosen ponies?” she asked. The regents spoke like it was a relatively common occurrence. “Do they live separate from the others?”
“The Chosen do not live among us,” Smoke said, eyeing her intently. “They descend into the Spire, to fight as guardians against the darkness. It is the Shaper’s will.”
Twilight stiffened, glancing to where Midnight watched in thoughtful silence. She parted her lips in a bloody smile. That sounded almost like an order. Or a threat.
Ametrine smiled, nodding encouragingly. “That is why you came here, yes? To be chosen from so far and travel all this way… you must be a very special pony.”
Twilight licked her lips, ignoring Midnight’s conjured mental images of the entire room bathed in blood. “What does it mean to descend into the Spire, exactly?”
“It is the greatest honor any pony can have,” Ametrine said, waving a wing to the black crystals in the center of the room. “The door opens only for the chosen. They traverse the winding stairs down beneath the ice, and will fight at the Shaper’s side until the world thaws.”
If they attempt to force us, I will kill them.
Yes, you’ve made that very clear, thank you. Would you please keep your daydreams to yourself at least while I’m talking to them?
Hmph. I don’t complain when you dream of coconuts and conga lines.
Twilight answered with a mental roll of her eyes as she stood, approaching the black crystal. Disturbing as it was when she’d first entered the room, it was forthright menacing from up close, towering four times her height. Even though it was impossible to see any edges with the way it absorbed the light, she was certain that she would cut herself if she touched it in the wrong place.
Midnight stepped up to her side as she examined it, her eyes focused intently on the surface. Slowly she reached out a cracked hoof.
The tower shivered under Twilight’s hooves, and she took a step back, ears flattening in alarm. With the sound of grinding stone, the section of crystal in front of her slid down into the floor, leaving a gap wide enough to step through.
What did you do?!
Wh—you’re the one that touched it!
Midnight scoffed. Foal! Our hooves remain firmly beneath us. We both know I didn’t move them.
Twilight jumped as a hoof wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her away from the gap, and she turned to see Smoke Quartz had left his seat.
“You may descend soon, but not yet,” he said firmly. “First we must hunt, and then a feast in your honor. Every pony in the Empire will want to attend your ceremony.”
“O-oh.” Twilight glanced back to the gap. She just caught sight of the lip of a stairwell carved into the floor, and then with a shuddering screech, the black crystal that had sunk out of sight shot back into place, blocking her sight.
“I need to talk to my friends.”
Rainbow had never been the best at judging the passage of time, but she was sure that Twilight had been gone for too long.
Had it been five minutes? Thirty? It felt like hours to her. She could tell exactly how long an exercise lasted from the burn in her muscles or how long it took her to fly from Cloudsale to Canterlot, but when stuck in a room and told to sit still, time lost all meaning.
She stood stiffly a short distance from the big crystal doors that led back outside, stealing quick glances to her left every few seconds to make sure Applejack was still there. Sea Sabre and Star Trails waited right next to the door, the former scanning the chamber with slow sweeps of her head while the latter’s attention darted from point to point with something between nerves and interest.
And then there were all the other eyes in the room. Shimmering, curious eyes perched above mouths lined with teeth ground down to fine points. Most of the adults had gotten over their staring by now, turning back to focus on their grisly tasks. The foals, meanwhile, wouldn’t look away. They huddled together in small groups of three and four, watching the armored ponies with wide eyes and whispering among themselves.
Where was Twilight? What were these weird predator ponies doing with her? Rainbow thought back to Daring Do and the Curse of the Jungle Queen, when Daring had met a lost tribe of cannibals very similar to this. They’d been peaceful at first. Then they got hungry.
One of the foals, a little yellow filly with a bobbed red mane, stepped out from her group of friends. Rainbow stiffened as the filly approached, all big eyes and sharp teeth, and came to a stop a few steps away from her and Applejack. The filly paused, glancing back to her friends watching from behind a rack of tanning hide, and then mustered her courage.
She looked to Rainbow first, then Applejack, asking in a quiet, hopeful voice, “Did you bring us apples?”
Rainbow blinked. Sea Sabre’s voice clicked into her ear. “Ignore her.”
But Applejack was already moving. Even past the stern facade of her helmet Rainbow could see the cowpony giving in. She reached back to the bulky saddlebag built onto her side, a small jet of steam venting from the watertight seal as it opened, and extracted a single, hoof-sized apple.
For a moment, Rainbow considered asking why Applejack had brought an apple to explore a mysterious, frozen city that more than likely was filled to the brim with snarling monsters, but then she realized—of course she had an apple on her. It would be like asking why Pinkie carried cupcakes.
“Applejack,” Sabre cautioned. “We can’t trust these ponies.”
“Y’all can hush, Sabre,” Applejack said calmly. “No disrespect to y’all, but it just ain’t in my blood to turn down a cute little filly askin’ for an apple.” She crouched down to the filly’s level, the smile in her voice clear past the tinny echo of her helmet. “Here ya go, sugar cube.”
The filly’s eyes lit up with joy as she jumped forwards, grabbing the apple in her little sharp teeth. She reared up to give Applejack an enthusiastic hug, shouting muffled thanks through the package in her mouth, and then turned and darted back to her gaping friends, each of which rushed out from behind the tanning rack to meet her halfway.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Sabre said. “Now they’ll all want one.”
“Wait, are we just gonna brush over the fact that she actually was carrying an apple on her?” Trails asked. “Or that the filly knew to ask for one? Am I the only one weirded out by this?”
“I’ll have ya know, an apple is a healthy, filling, and delicious snack no matter where ya might be,” Applejack shot back. She sighed over the radio. “And I reckon wherever ya find ponies, someone’ll be achin’ for one.”
Rainbow frowned, seeing the way Applejack watched after the little filly and her friends. A soft gasp escaped her as she realized—yellow coat, red mane. The filly reminds her of Apple Bloom.
Instead of the swarm of demanding foals that Sabre had predicted, the little crystal ponies all gathered into a circle, passing the apple between themselves. One by one they took turns snipping little bites off the fruit, laughing and grinning at the juice dripping down their lips. Soon other foals were running up to join, and they were welcomed graciously into the circle where they patiently waited their turn. By the end there were over a dozen foals passing the apple amongst themselves, chattering eagerly and shooting curious, nervous glances towards Applejack, who would lift a hoof to wave every time.
An adult came over to inspect the commotion, and Rainbow tensed as she anticipated some kind of negative reaction, but instead the mare smiled and laughed along with the foals before looking at Applejack with a dip of her head and moving on. The apple survived three rounds of the circle before being chewed down to its core, and a colt let out an exclamation of surprise as he spit the seeds out into his hoof. He grinned, showing it to the others, and an instant later ran off to speak to an elder mare watching from inside her tent, who accepted the seeds with a soft smile.
“I’m gonna talk to them.” Applejack stood up, already reaching for her helmet.
“Applejack, we need to stay together!” Sabre hissed. “The thinner our formation, the easier it’ll be for them to catch us off guard!”
“Look, Sabre, I dunno what y’all’ve been through, and I know ya got only the best of intentions here, but I ain’t felt this right since—well, not since I baked them apple fritters for the wedding with Cousin Apple Fritter.” Her helmet popped off with a hiss of steam, and she clipped it onto her side before glancing back with watery eyes. “And them foals look like they might need someone to show ’em what to do with apple seeds.”
She walked off without waiting for a response, smiling down at the foals as they gathered around her, and settled down to speak at their level.
Rainbow cringed, already bracing herself for Sabre’s reaction to being brushed off so roughly, but it was Trails’ voice that crackled into her ear.
“She has a cousin named Apple Fritter? That bakes apple fritters?”
“Yeah,” Rainbow said quietly, still expecting to be interrupted by Sabre at any moment. “Her family tree reads like a dessert menu.”
“And it’s all apples?”
Rainbow sighed. “Yep. All apples.”
“Rainbow Dash.” Sabre’s voice was terse. “I’m bringing the Argo back in. You have five minutes to get yourself and Applejack aboard, or I’ll leave you both.”
Rainbow pursed her lips. “Yes, ma’am.”
She reached up, releasing the locks on her helmet with a hoof, sliding it off, and transferring it back to one of her wings. Tossing her mussed mane side to side, she took a breath, nose twitching at the strange taste that hung in the air. One glance back confirmed that Sabre and Trails had already stepped back outside, leaving her and Applejack alone amidst the tribe of potentially dangerous meat-eaters.
She wasn’t surprised. She wasn’t even offended. If there was one thing she respected about Sea Sabre, it was that the mare always had her priorities straight, and after the mess Rainbow had brought on her, she doubted she’d ever be counted as one of her crew again.
Rainbow pushed those thoughts aside as she approached Applejack and the ring of foals, putting on a stiff smile when they rushed around her, lips flapping like a school of adorable, clumsy piranhas.
“Ms. Applejack, who’s this?”
“Do you have another apple? Or maybe a strawberry?”
“What happened to your eye?”
“Your mane is so pretty!”
Rainbow did her best to keep the smile from twisting into a grimace. “Uh, hey, kids. Sorry, but AJ and I have really gotta get going.”
“Aw, already?” A sky blue filly with stubby little wings pouted up at her, glancing back to Applejack. “But you just got here! Don’t you wanna stay to watch your chosen friend descend?”
Rainbow blinked. She let out a nervous laugh as she pushed through the foals and wrapped a wing around Applejack’s side, hissing quietly past her smile. “AJ, Sabre’s leaving.”
“That’s fine by me,” Applejack said. She’d donned her hat sometime while Rainbow wasn’t looking, begging the question of where she’d stashed it until then. “These kids ain’t done me no harm, and we still got time while we’re waitin’ for Twi. Did ya know they used to have an apple tree in this place?” She shook her head with a bemused smile. “Hay if I know how they ever got an apple to take seed this far north, but little Soda Lite there says her great-aunt got a bite from its last fruitin’.”
“And now I got one, too!” A unicorn filly with swirly blue mane pranced in place, grinning ear to ear. “I can’t wait to tell her!”
Rainbow’s smile was already cracking. “AJ, look, I know how you feel about apples, but we really shouldn’t be stranding ourselves here. Twi can always teleport back onto the ship whenever she wants, but—”
“But nothin!” Applejack turned away sharply. “Twilight’ll be expectin’ us here when she gets back. Y’all can go on if ya want, I won’t blame ya, but by Celestia, I am not gonna leave that filly turnin’ circles wonderin’ why we ain’t around when she shows up.”
Rainbow’s brow furrowed. She opened her mouth to spew out some rebuttal, but nothing came. No matter how she looked at it, Applejack was right, and there was a part of Rainbow already hitting herself for not realizing it on her own. Even if it meant allowing themselves to be left behind in the middle of an unknown village inhabited by potentially dangerous cannibals, even if Sabre got fed up at dealing with them and decided to fly back south and gamble Princess Luna’s life for those of her crew, there really wasn’t any other choice. That was just the kind of thing the Elements of Harmony did for each other.
“You’re right.” She sighed, plopping down and leaning against Applejack’s right side. “Sorry.”
“Don’t sweat it, sugar cube.” Applejack leaned down to nuzzle Rainbow’s cheek. “Now why don’t ya tell these foals about y’all’s Sonic Rainboom, huh? Colorful as this place might be, I’d wager they ain’t never seen anythin’ like it.”
Rainbow frowned, casting her eye around the ring of foals and watching their ears perk up as they picked up on a potentially interesting story. One of them stepped forwards, wings spread. “What’s a Sonic Rainboom? Is it like snow?”
Rainbow snorted. “Nah, it’s not quite like snow, kid.” With another sigh she straightened up, treating the assembled foals to a cocky grin as she slid into her bragging voice. “But I can tell you what it is like. And who knows, maybe I’ll even have a chance to show you one…”
Lips pouted in concentration, Rarity put the finishing touches on her signature and leaned back to review her words.
Despite the various upsets, she’d tried to keep a regular habit of exchanging letters with her friends elsewhere in Equestria. She’d send them off to Heighton to be forwarded to wherever they might be, and as long as she kept Mr. Rich’s staff up-to-date on her travel plans they would ensure that any responses got back to her in kind. Of course the schedule had been somewhat disrupted when an entire island had dropped out from under her hooves, and the mail had slowed significantly during the siege, but with the excess of peace and time aboard her current vessel, it seemed pertinent to try again.
The last letter she’d received from the Argo had come to her just before the siege. Rainbow and Applejack had written about finding Twilight in Canterlot, the near-fatal showdown with Spike, the fate of the Elements, and Twilight’s plan to travel north. She’d yet to hear from them since.
Rationally, she knew the silence was most likely due to a lack of stops. The Argo would have little reason to make port on its way north, and even if it did, there likely wasn’t much happening aboard. Still, she couldn’t help but worry. And seeing as she herself had been unable to get letters off the island during the siege of Friesland, she had every intent of sending one out the instant she set hoof on land once more. And so she had put pen to paper, describing the chaos of her time in the city.
She tapped the butt of the pen against her chin. Pinkie would want to add some words of her own. And Fluttershy…
Rarity’s brow furrowed. She still hadn’t quite caught up with Fluttershy. Well, I’m sure the dear would appreciate a quiet conversation over tea.
She stood, stretching her legs and collecting her writing supplies. It was growing late, and with the sun hanging low over the horizon it was too dark to be writing in the little cargo nook that passed for her quarters. She’d taken a position on deck instead, using a saddlebag packed with fabric as a makeshift desk, set far enough back from the bow that the headwind toying with her mane wouldn’t make off with her paper. The ship’s envelope cast a deep shadow over the rear half of the deck, the drone of the large propellers at the rear somewhat muffled by the bulk of the hull.
Though the crew numbered only about twenty, it was usually easy to find one, and this time was no different. Rarity spied an earth stallion looking over the railing amidships, and after pausing to don her saddlebags, approached him with a polite smile.
“Excuse me. Have you seen my friend Fluttershy? Soft-spoken, yellow pegasus?”
The stallion’s ear flicked, but he kept his eyes focused on whatever he was watching below. “Heard she’s tendin’ folk in the mess.”
Rarity nodded. “Thank you. Ta-ta for now!”
The stallion didn’t respond. Curious, Rarity leaned over to see what he was so intent on, and her eyes widened as she saw a pegasus mare dangling from a rope on the side of the hull. She had a toolbox slung around her neck, and was busily digging around in a maintenance panel with her front hooves.
Rarity looked back to the stallion. “Is she—what is she doing?”
The stallion grunted. “Workin’.”
“But if she fell, then—”
“You questionin’ my knots?” The stallion finally looked up, fixing Rarity with a callous glare, and with a start Rarity realized that the mare’s rope was tied off to the railing beside him. “If it breaks, I’ll catch her. So quit distractin’ me.”
“O-oh, of course. Apologies.”
Rarity dipped her head, backing away, and tried to put the mare out of her mind. Surely she was a professional that knew what she was doing. No doubt the captain and crew took every precaution to ensure safety.
It was a short walk down to the mess room, a long, somewhat cramped room filled by a single metal table. The sound of cooking and the not-so-enticing smell of boiling vegetables drifted from a doorway in one corner.
Fluttershy, Brownie, and one of the ship’s crew were seated at the table, in front of a mat of white cloth weighed down by various little bottles and thin linens. The crewpony, an earth mare with bags under her eyes, clenched her jaw as Fluttershy used a wingtip to dab clear goop over a wound on her leg. Next came a square of thick white cloth, which she pressed atop the treated wound with a hoof.
Fluttershy nodded to herself, not looking away as she spoke. “Bandage, please.”
Brownie grunted. He turned to the mat of supplies, big nose sniffling thoughtfully before he selected a roll of gauze, measured out a length, and cut it free with a slice from his claws.
“Thank you.” Fluttershy took the gauze in her other hoof, wrapping it around the crewpony’s leg and tying it tight with her mouth.
“Uh, ya done?” The mare frowned down at her treated leg. “I gotta get some sleep while I can.”
“Mhm. All done.” Fluttershy smiled at her. “Just be more careful in the future, okay?”
“Yeah. Appreciate it.” The mare slid off the bench, shooting a curious glance at Rarity as she walked past her and out of sight.
Rarity greeted Fluttershy with a smile. “You’re becoming quite the accomplished healer, darling.”
Fluttershy blushed, keeping her eyes on her medical supplies as she carefully began to roll the mat tight. “Um, I’m not, really.”
“Nonsense!” Rarity sat beside her with a quiet tut. “You knew just what to do during the attack on the manor, after all. Why if I’d had your help in the city, the good we could’ve done!”
“Mm.” Fluttershy’s lips stretched into a thin smile, but she said nothing.
Rarity’s brow furrowed. Fluttershy was always a shy filly, yes, but she was hardly adverse to conversation among her friends. Right now it was just the two of them, and she even had Brownie nearby to give her extra confidence, so there had to be a reason for her silence. Rarity watched the way the other mare’s hooves shivered as she tied off the ends of her mat, securing the supplies inside, and turned away to scratch at Brownie’s chin.
Something was on Fluttershy’s mind, and for whatever reason, she didn’t want to share.
Then it came to her in a flash of insight, and Rarity bit her lip as she realized her blunder. She’d been so eager to compliment Fluttershy on her skills, to try and make her feel good by mentioning how she’d be so useful inside the besieged city, that she’d completely forgot that Fluttershy had spent said siege inside an actual military camp, among soldiers partaking in active warfare—most likely tending to the wounded every day.
It all clicked together. Her newfound confidence among strangers, the way the soldiers had treated her after the siege, how she’d avoided talking about her time in camp since they reunited. Rarity thought back to the image of Friesland airships dropping fire bombs on the siege camp, how afraid she’d been for her friend trapped beneath them.
Fluttershy had seen terrible things while Rarity played diplomat in the city. As gruesome as she’d thought it was tending to the victims of one bombing, Fluttershy had been forced to—even if only by her own unending well of kindness—wade through worse. Every day.
And she’d gotten good at it. She’d grown proficient in the bloody art of saving lives, her basic veterinary knowledge honed on the groaning whetstone of ponies brought down by cannon and bayonet. No doubt she’d saved dozens of lives during her stay in the siege camp, rescued more wounded than Rarity had even seen within the city, and Rarity had been so foolish as to suggest that she’d have been more useful elsewhere. That she hadn’t already been useful.
Rarity closed her eyes and took a breath. Fluttershy had every right to be upset, to snap out at her and correct her. But, graceful angel as the other mare always was, she’d kept it all inside.
Rarity wouldn’t press her further on the matter. Fluttershy processed her emotions quietly, and often only in the confidence of her animals. She opened her eyes to see Fluttershy watching her with a quiet, somber smile.
Even if they didn’t talk about it, sometimes friends didn’t need words.
Rarity’s horn glowed, and the moment passed. Both mares followed the rolled-up letter as it floated out onto the table and straightened out. “I was just writing a letter to our friends, keeping them updated, assuring them we’re all well, and the like. I’m sure Pinkie will want to have her turn as well before we send it off, but I thought you might want to include your own thoughts first?” She smiled and tossed her mane with a playful wink. “I’m sure you know how difficult it can be to try and write on paper after she’s gotten her hooves on it.”
Fluttershy returned the smile, warm and genuine. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. She, um, really knows how to put love into a letter.” She pulled the paper closer with a wingtip. “I’m sorry, do you have a pen?”
“I most certainly do, my sweet. No trouble at all.” Rarity levitated her pen out and placed it neatly next to the paper. “Take as long as you like. I have spare pens.”
She made to stand, but Fluttershy’s wing flashed out to stop her. “Don’t go.” She blushed as Rarity froze, waiting expectantly, and looked away. “Um, I mean, unless you need to. I don’t want you to leave, is all. Or, uh—I mean I don’t really need you to stay either, but—ugh.” Fluttershy hung her head with a frustrated little groan. Brownie snuffled curiously, nosing past her mane, and she leaned into him with a huff.
Rarity giggled, relaxing back onto the bench and scooting a little closer. “Do not fret, dear Fluttershy. I’d love to spend some quiet time together.” She leaned in with a playful whisper. “I don’t believe there’s a spa anywhere aboard this vessel, but I do believe I could acquire some tea from the galley, if you’re interested?”
Fluttershy nodded, risking a glance up past her mane. “Yes, please.”
“Your wish is my command.” Rarity gave Fluttershy a brief nuzzle before standing. “I shall be back in mere minutes, even if all I can find for us is two cups of hot water.”
She paused in the doorway to the galley, glancing back. Fluttershy heaved another sigh before straightening up, scratching a wing under Brownie’s chin and cooing softly.
With a content smile, Rarity went in search of tea.
I saw you touch it, Midnight! It responded to you!
Cease this at once! I refuse to suffer your imbecilic attempts at tricking me!
Twilight groaned out loud, thankful that the whipping of the wind kept anyone else from noticing. They were descending the central Spire escorted by Ametrine, Serene Agate, and a trio of aides she’d yet to be acquainted with, making back for the tower she now knew as the South Face. She’d been doing her best to appear composed, friendly, and confident during the walk, but the task was made somewhat difficult by Midnight’s constant assertion that she hadn’t touched the black crystal.
I know what you’re thinking, you know. It doesn’t matter if you voice it or not.
Oh, be quiet! Twilight rounded on her other half, who was busily floating in the open air just off the path with a petulant glare. I’m not trying to trick you! As much as you talk about never lying to me, maybe you could take your own advice for once, look in my head, and see that I’m not lying to you!
Midnight’s lips curled back. They held each other’s gaze for a few moments.
Finally, Midnight scoffed and looked away. I know.
Twilight blinked. Wh—then what in Celestia’s name are we arguing about?!
We’re arguing because I’m—Midnight growled, a low, guttural hiss so loud in Twilight’s ears that she nearly tripped in shock. I was not in control! The infernal crystal muddled me and I wasn’t aware of my actions until it was done! She disappeared from Twilight’s sight, voice taking on a slight shiver. Does that please you? Let me be!
Twilight’s jaw dropped. Midnight was gone. She’d sealed herself up in the shadows that lurked at the bottom of Twilight’s mind. The dark, slithering tingle that Twilight had felt stretching out to her hooftips ever since Altalusia had receded, fading into memory.
Twilight’s first instinct was to wonder when it’d be back.
Her second was revulsion at the first, followed shortly by confusion.
Shouldn’t she be happy? This was what she’d wanted ever since she struck that terrible bargain with Midnight, wasn’t it? To have her body back, to be free to do whatever she wanted without that sneering voice in her head, to be able to close her eyes without seeing that slitted gaze staring back at her.
But no, she felt empty. She felt like she had as a filly when her big brother had gone off to boot camp, leaving a quiet, empty room next to hers with a closed door that she walked past every morning. She felt like a pony sitting alone at a table for two. And she kept looking up expectantly, glancing out the window, stomach churning with concern for the pony that was supposed to be sitting with her.
I’ve lost my mind. Twilight shook her head, trying to focus on the steps. She’s finally broken me. I finally got what I’ve been asking for and all I can think about is whether or not she’s okay. Her ears drooped as she willed herself to be happy, to imagine running back to her friends and announcing that she’d finally locked Midnight away once more and would never risk letting her out again.
“Midnight?” She whispered the words under her breath, and only the wind answered back.
Serene came to a stop in front of her, and with a start Twilight realized that they’d reached the bridge leading back to the South Face. He raised a hoof towards Ametrine, who took it with a gracious smile, and together they stepped off the firm crystal and onto the swaying bridge of bone.
Twilight took a deep breath as she followed. Midnight will be fine. She was strong-spirited, maybe even too much, and probably just frustrated. Twilight snorted as she had the sudden mental image of a snarling Midnight stomping off to her room and slamming the door shut like a sulking teenager, and then her smile faded as she remembered what Midnight’s “room” looked like: an empty cell in a ghostly recreation of Gava’s ship, haunted by eerie song.
There was nothing she could do about it now, though. She would give Midnight her privacy. Until then, she had her own friends to catch up with, and a wealth of notes to review. She was sure Dusty Tome would be excited to go over some of her discoveries.
Following Serene and Ametrine off the far side of the bridge and into the warm glow of the South Face interior, Twilight couldn’t help but smile at what she saw below. Rainbow and Applejack were seated in the middle of a throng of foals, helmets off to reveal genuine smiles. Rainbow had her hooves and wings spread wide in a pose that Twilight recognized well, and she shook her head as she realized that the pegasus was recounting the story of her first Sonic Rainboom, the gathered foals leaning forwards to hang on her every word. A flick of her mane and trademark grin marked the end of the tale, her young audience all stomping their hooves in amazement before breaking out into a flood of questions.
Ametrine pulled her hoof from Serene’s grip, leading the way down the ramp and onto the main floor. Several crystal ponies approached her, bowing their heads in greeting, and she smiled as the group of foals left Rainbow and Applejack to bound around her legs, each competing to be the first to share the new story.
“We are favored by the east snow today, my children,” Ametrine said, each of the foals falling quiet to listen. She lowered her head to speak to them, but raised her voice so that the gathered adults would be able to hear clearly as well. “This is Twilight Sparkle, an Equestrian blessed by the Shaper in a way I’ve never seen before, and we must help her make her Descent. Do you know what that means?”
A young colt gasped. “A hunt!”
“And a feast!” Another, thicker colt added.
A filly with a ribbon in her mane fluttered her wings excitedly. “And stories!”
“That’s right. Run along and tell your parents for me, please.” Ametrine nodded as she straightened, looking now to the adults. “We’ll set out with the dawn.”
The crowd cleared quickly, adults splitting off into pairs and trios that trotted off to make preparations while the foals each raced for different tents calling for their parents. Rainbow and Applejack were left waiting a respectful distance away, and Twilight shot them a quick smile before turning to say goodbye to Ametrine.
“You’re very generous,” she said, bowing like she’d seen the other villagers do. “Should I be here for the hunt in the morning?”
Ametrine shook her head. “You honor us most by accepting our gifts. Serene will provide beds for you and your companions.”
“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.” Twilight smiled, hoping Ametrine wouldn’t be offended. “I have my own room on our ship.”
“Ah. I see.” Ametrine dipped her head. “I shall leave you, then. If you need anything—bed, food, or counsel—please, let us provide it.” Taking a few steps back, she raised her head and turned away, leaving Twilight with her friends.
“Back already, Twi?” Rainbow gave her a friendly bump. “We figured you’d be gone longer.”
Applejack rolled her eyes. “Don’t listen to that one none. She was about ready to chew the walls until them foals distracted her.”
“Hey! I was just making sure they didn’t eat you or something!”
Twilight smirked, warmed by the duo’s familiar antics. “Where are Sabre and Trails? We can catch up back on the ship.”
“Ah, about that,” Appleback began.
“They already left.” Rainbow shrugged, looking away. “Sabre didn’t feel safe.”
Twilight cocked her head. It was understandable that Sea Sabre might feel threatened in a village full of obvious meat-eaters, but it was unlike her to leave anyone behind like that. Even in Canterlot, when she had barely known them, she’d refused to abandon them to the monstrous changelings haunting the city. “She left without you?”
Rainbow grimaced. “She wanted us to come, but, y’know. We were waiting for you, so.”
Twilight’s brow furrowed. Rainbow was hiding something from her. She looked to Applejack and received a guilty shrug in response.
“I can teleport us back aboard. Come on.” She trotted between her friends, making for the great door that led to their landing zone. “Do you still have tea in supply? I’d love to catch up over some hot tea.”
“Y-yeah.” Rainbow grinned weakly, her and Applejack following on Twilight’s left. “That’d be sweet.”
The snow was clearing when they stepped outside, giving Twilight a clear view of the snowy landscape. Smooth, glossy ice surrounded the tower, catching the warm rays of sunset and channeling it into a gleaming white river of light that scattered into little tributaries on impact with the tower base. Further out, the ice was hidden beneath a layer of lumpy snow, the barrier between the realms forming a perfect circle centered on the central Spire. And past all that, marked by the pale white frost drifting off their peaks like banners in the wind, were the protruding caps of mountains brought low by the floods, once-towering lords of geography reduced to petty scattered islands.
Twilight paused, drinking it in. She’d spent so long on the ocean floor, where even to her mutated vision the world all faded to a dead and featureless grey, broken only by the faint shadows that hinted at the drowned corpses of old Equestrian villages and townships. The ridged and snow-flurried horizon of the Frozen North seemed a beautiful splash of color by comparison, and Twilight hoped that Midnight, even secluded as she was, could somehow catch at least a glimpse of it.
Movement caught her eye, and the moment was gone. The Argo drifted lazily over one of the rocky islands, its envelope marred by long, slender rips and its hull already stained white with frost. She sent out a ping to gauge the distance before preparing a teleportation spell.
“Stay still,” she called to her friends beside her. “You might feel a little disoriented.”
If they had any reaction to her warning, it was lost in the lavender flash of her magic. Her weight shifted, and a moment later she and her friends appeared in the ship’s cargo hold, bringing with them a light swirl of snow.
“Whoa!” Rainbow stumbled to one side. “That felt… freaky.”
Twilight smiled. “Sorry. I’m mostly just used to teleporting myself.” She looked around, stretching her neck. “So how about that tea?”
Some minutes and a brief fuss with the stovetop later, the three mares were all gathered in Applejack’s makeshift bedroom, arranged in a rough triangle. Twilight and Applejack reclined on opposite ends of the bed, the former holding her warm tea close to her chest while the latter nursed a mug of cider. Rainbow, also with cider, stretched out on Applejack’s desktop, tail flicking nervously over her hind legs.
“So do you wanna go first, Twi?” she asked, offering a hopeful smile. “We’ve all been wondering what you’ve been up to down there.”
“I don’t know. I’ve spent a long time with only… my own voice to listen to.” She paused, half-hoping that Midnight would appear to take a jab at her, but to no avail. “I think I’d like to listen at least for a little bit. Did you have any trouble getting north?”
Her question was met with a pregnant silence. Twilight looked from Rainbow to Applejack, watching them have some kind of silent exchange.
Finally, Applejack spoke. “Yeah, I guess y’all could say we did.” She grimaced, looking down at her drink. “Changeling snuck aboard when we left Canterlot.”
Twilight gasped. “Did anyone get hurt?”
Another pause. This time it was Rainbow that spoke, her voice low and distracted. “It got Dusty.”
“Got him?” Twilight frowned, looking between her friends. A sense of dread crept up her spine. “Is he okay?”
Applejack sighed. “He was dead when we found him. Bled out on the floor of his clinic.”
Twilight blinked. “Dead?” She shook her head, eyes wide. She hadn’t exactly curated friendships with any of Sea Sabre’s crew during her time aboard—she’d even neglected her own friends during her long hours of research—but she’d known Dusty better than any of them. They’d shared several meals together discussing their respective worlds, exchanging notes and theories, and she recalled him once talking about taking her to Sanctaphrax, the academy-island where he’d received his education.
She still had the note cards from their first proper conversation, before she’d even seen Heighton.
“Don’t worry.” Rainbow’s voice came out in a dark growl. “I killed it.”
Twilight’s ears flicked back, a shiver passing through her at the anger in Rainbow’s voice. She sounded almost like Midnight talking about Gava, listing off the myriad imagined punishments she planned to unleash if they ever captured the cruel griffon. Twilight knew that Rainbow was still processing her anger over the loss of her eye, but she’d never expected to hear anything like that spoken in a voice normally crowing boasts or challenges between good-natured laughter.
The words hung in the air for a long moment, each mare lost in their own thoughts, before Twilight broke the silence. “Is that why things feel so different with Sabre?”
Rainbow’s ears drooped. Applejack pursed her lips.
“Girls?” Twilight felt like she was back in the vault beneath Stalliongrad, dread building with every door she opened. Except instead of skeletons and portraits of the long dead, now she was coming upon something far worse. “What is it?”
“Tell her, RD,” Applejack said. It sounded almost like a threat.
“I will!” Rainbow snapped. “I’m just… getting the words right.”
Twilight waited with bated breath. What had happened to her friends while she was gone? Was it her fault for asking them to follow her north? Maybe she should’ve spurned them in Canterlot, delivered a second, more forceful warning not to follow her so she could unravel the mysteries of the ocean on her own, assured in the knowledge that they were safe.
Maybe it had been a moment of weakness. Maybe the best thing for her friends was to simply not be her friends.
Finally, Rainbow spoke.
“There was a stallion,” she began. “Prince Silverblood.” She curled her lip as if the name carried a bad taste. “I don’t know why he was a prince. We needed repairs after the changeling, and he had a ship that could help.
“We spent a few days on it. It was big—there were hundreds of ponies living on it—and he kept trying to make me and Applejack sign on with him. He wanted to trap us, followed us around like a collector looking to buy new toys, and he didn’t care how much we said no. He just kept offering more.”
Applejack cleared her throat. “Had a smile like Flim and Flam, except at least they cared about each other.”
Rainbow nodded. “It was a relief when we finally left. I was afraid I might explode if I had to deal with him any longer. Then Trails mentioned that she’d connected him to one of the bounties put on us.” Rainbow’s brow furrowed and her tail flicked behind her. She looked up, jaw clenched in a snarl, and her one cerise eye was burning with sudden fire. “It was his fault, Twilight! Everything with Gava—my eye, Applejack’s capture, all that bloodshed on Altalusia, even—y-you. All because of monsters like him!” The fire had spread to her voice. Twilight could see it burning in Rainbow’s chest, making her hooves shake with fury. “And he laughed in my face!”
Twilight’s stomach knotted. She slid off the bed, stepping closer to embrace her friend. “Rainbow.”
“No!” Rainbow stood up sharply, flaring her wings to drive Twilight back. “I didn’t mean for any of it to happen, but I don’t regret it either! He hurt you, hurt all of us, and he thought he’d gotten away with it! I gave him a chance to explain himself, and you know what he said?” She shook her head, stomping hard enough to dent the metal desk she stood on. “He said it was our fault!”
“Oh, Rainbow,” Twilight’s lip quivered. It wasn’t enough that almost everyone she loved had died? Now she had to watch her friends get twisted, too? “What did you do?”
“I killed him.” Rainbow looked Twilight in the eye as she said it, the fire giving way to steel. “I stomped him into the ground of his own ship. I made it right. I was the only one that could.”
“And that’s why…?”
Rainbow nodded. “Sabre hates me now. All of Equestria thinks I was part of her crew, and there’ll be bounty hunters after her. Her contract with Crazy is done.”
She held Twilight’s gaze, nostrils flared, an unspoken dare for Twilight to condemn her, and Twilight felt frozen in place. It was just like with Midnight, wasn’t it? Rainbow would do anything to protect her friends, and after learning the identity of a pony that caused them so much grief for such petty causes, surely it would’ve been torture for her to just walk away.
Monster. It was a word that Midnight used often, one that Twilight knew carried a heavy meaning. A monster wasn’t defined by sharp fangs or slitted eyes, bloody tears or fearsome spines. It was about actions. A monster was something that threatened your friends. It was something to be stopped immediately, at any cost, once and for all. You didn’t leave a monster breathing, because it would never stop chasing you or the ones you loved.
What would Twilight have done if she had been in the same situation, face-to-face with a pony-shaped monster that hid behind its smile? She knew what Midnight would say, but Twilight wasn’t sure if she’d argue.
“Do—” Rainbow licked her lips, her eye watering. “Do you hate me, too?”
“No.” Twilight shook her head, reaching up to lay her hoof softly on Rainbow’s. She didn’t smile, but she didn’t need to. “I understand, Rainbow. Thank you.”
Rainbow slumped down like a puppet with her strings cut, every tensed limb suddenly giving out as she let out a held breath. A second later she spread her wings, looking away. “Sorry.”
She took off without looking back, leaving Twilight alone with Applejack. The sound of the cargo room door hissing marked her departure deeper into the ship.
Applejack sighed. “She’s probably off for another fly. Clears her head, y’know.”
“Yeah.” Twilight spent a long moment looking after the pegasus. “Do you think it’s my fault? For asking you to follow me?”
“Tartarus, Twilight, could ya sit down for one minute and not try to carry all Equestria for once?” Applejack let out a dry laugh. “We’re all grown mares, sugar cube, and if ya told us not to follow ya we woulda done it anyway. Wouldn’t be the first time, either.” She walked up to Twilight’s side, pulling her into a tight hug. “I’m just glad y’all’re here, alright? It’s been rough, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Twilight melted into the hug with a somber smile. “Sorry. I can’t help it.”
“I reckon that’s what we all love about each other, huh? The things we can’t help.” Applejack snorted. “Either way, we’re here now. Sabre’s rightly pissed over the mess, nearly turned us around, talkin’ about usin’ Luna as a bargainin’ chip to get her a new contract.”
Twilight stiffened. “Why didn’t she?”
“Believe it or not, her crew spoke against it. Mostly Star Trails, really. They had a vote, and I guess it came down on the right side.”
Twilight nodded, nuzzling her cheek against the soft fur of Applejack’s chest. “That’s some good news, at least.”
“So what about y’all?” Applejack asked. She stepped back to look Twilight in the eye. “I’m hopin’ your trip wasn’t quite as eventful as ours.”
Twilight smirked. “It was certainly something. I found some clues in Stalliongrad about the floods that confirmed they happened two months after the wedding, when we were captured.” She paused, considering whether she should mention the story behind finding Scylla, but decided it was irrelevant. “I can sense something inside the central spire of this city. Whatever it is, I’m convinced that it’s the key to figuring out what happened.”
Applejack arched a brow. “City?”
Twilight nodded. “There’s a whole city under the ice, and those towers are just the upper half of the palace it’s built around. It looks like there was some kind of fighting here, with powerful magic involved.”
“And all that nonsense about you bein’ ‘chosen,’ makin' some kind of descent?”
“The ponies here appear to have some kind of spiritual relationship with the corruption,” Twilight said. “I’m still hazy on the details, but I think it’s not uncommon for them to fall victim to it. They send the corrupted ponies down into the Spire to help some figure they call ‘the Shaper’ ‘fight the darkness.’” She shrugged back at Applejack's confused expression. “They say I’m the most corrupted pony they’ve ever seen, and they want me to go through the ritual as well. I need to explore the Spire anyways, so I see no reason to argue.”
Applejack sighed, taking her hat off and running a hoof through her mane. “Uh huh. And what’re we supposed to do in all this?”
Twilight frowned. “I’m sorry, but it feels like this is something only I can do. Maybe you could try to ask around and learn what you can? This city was built before the floods, but I’ve never heard or even read about it, so maybe the ponies here can shine some light on that.”
“Y’all want us to make nice with a bunch of cannibal ponies that decorate their rooms with hide and build huts out of bone?” Applejack grimaced. “I dunno, Twi.”
“Applejack, please.” Twilight grabbed her hoof, holding it in hers. “Trust me when I say I understand how you feel about this, but eating meat doesn’t make ponies bad on its own. Just look at the climate here; this is probably what they have to do to survive. Give them a chance.”
“Well, I guess them foals were mighty cute.” Applejack shrugged, squeezing Twilight’s hoof. “I’ll give it a shot. Reckon Rainbow might like helpin’ out, too.”
“Thank you.” Twilight smiled, pulling her friend into a quick hug. “It’s good to be back.”
Applejack didn’t miss a beat. “It’s good to have ya.”
With one last squeeze, Twilight pulled back and turned for the curtained door. “I think I’m going to try and get some sleep. It’s been a while since I had a nice bed like these.”
“Hopefully it ain’t too soft for y’all’s taste now.” Applejack smirked, waving a hoof. “Good night, Twilight.”
“Good night, Applejack.”
Twilight grabbed her tea off the bed before leaving, taking the few steps required to make it to her own little room tucked into the corner of the cargo bay. Scylla chittered out a greeting as she entered, popping up from where she’d been waiting under the desk to brush against Twilight’s legs.
“Hey, you.” Twilight lifted her hoof, scratching idly at the crystal spider’s chitin as she sipped at the last of her tea and regarded the sleeping alicorn currently occupying most of her bed. I guess I won’t get the bed after all.
It didn’t bother her much. She’d grown used to sleeping on hard rock, sand, or the crushed stone of old ruins. She pulled her bedroll out of Shining’s saddlebag, which she’d left propped up by the bed, and laid it out on the floor.
Scylla scuttled on without hesitation, and Twilight smiled as she set her empty teacup aside and curled up next to her. Princess Luna’s gentle breathing was barely audible under the ticking of the hull.
Twilight closed her eyes. Sleep eluded her.
She opened her eyes with a huff and tried adjusting her position. Compared to the suffocating darkness and quiet rumble of the ocean floor, the bright, loud Argo made her feel like she was sleeping in the middle of a Canterlot thoroughfare. The cargo hold always had its dim overhead lights on, and though the steady tick of the hull would sometimes quicken or falter, it never fully faded. She grabbed the trailing end of the blanket off her bed and tugged it over her head, being careful not to pull it so hard that it would fall completely to the floor and leave Princess Luna exposed.
And still, sleep refused her.
That nagging sense of emptiness hadn’t faded, either. She almost missed the sensation of Midnight prowling nearby, growling threateningly at any sea creature that came to investigate the little lavender bubble at the bottom of the ocean and the unicorn curled up inside.
As if on cue, there was a knock.
Not a physical knock, but a mental one. A prodding from the dark place to where Midnight had retreated. Firm, but not demanding. A request.
Twilight opened the connection without hesitation.
Instantly the darkness flooded back through her, filling out her limbs and wreathing her body with the warm, velvety tingle of Midnight’s presence. She cracked an eye open, tugging the blanket off her head.
Midnight was standing in the corner, watching her with narrowed eyes.
Twilight said nothing. Midnight had made it clear that she needed time to process things on her own, and Twilight didn’t want to drive her away again with a misspoken word. They held each other’s gaze in silence.
Midnight’s eyes flicked away, focusing on Scylla, and her lip curled back to reveal her fangs. Twilight’s brow furrowed as she focused on her dark passenger’s emotions, trying to decipher them without being too intrusive. It wasn’t revulsion. Anger? No.
Envy.
Midnight stiffened. Her eyes snapped back to Twilight, hard and challenging. Slowly Twilight adjusted herself, scooting over to make more space on the bedroll. A low growl came from Midnight’s throat, echoing in Twilight’s head.
Perhaps a minute passed. At last Midnight stood, the growl dying away, and walked closer. She dropped down onto the bedroll with an indignant huff, curling up pointedly facing away from Twilight.
Gradually she relaxed, leaning back into Twilight. Twilight’s fur tingled with the strange, warm buzzing of their contact.
Twilight smiled, closing her eyes. Midnight growled again, but didn’t move away.
She fell asleep shortly after.