//------------------------------// // Chapter XLVI – So Help You Goddess // Story: Journey with a Batpony // by Gulheru //------------------------------// “My Advisor... I do not think I have understood you right.” Moonwarden was not surprised at the level of confusion in Princess Luna’s voice, though he had imagined it being directed at him more from a practiced manner rather than actual befuddlement. Which seemed to have been the case after all. “I seek your permission, Your Majesty, to conduct inquiry directly at the Nightguard’s headquarters. From Commander Ardent Fang, nonetheless,” he repeated himself, making it perfectly clear that there was no miscommunication. The Princess did not reply outright, instead leaning back in her seat, her eyes wide. She would appear almost ignoble, surprised, but Moonwarden knew that even such an expression could hide truly deep deliberations. She never looked less than perfect for him anyway. Yet, he understood. What he had proposed was an unorthodox solution. Perhaps exactly what was needed, after all. Planning and scheming was all prim and proper. But, when intrigues tied themselves together, heavy and overbearing, like a spider’s web when the dew hanged on it on a spring morning, a bit of direct sunlight could be just the solution. ... that was a terribly displeasing comparison, but it stood. For to gain information, to confirm suspicions and to slow down plans and enemy progression asking directly could be as searing as those first rays of the sun. “I... grasp the words you are using, but the idea itself escapes me still,” his lady’s eventual reply was. “Knowing what we know at the moment, having in mind the possibilities which we have discussed... you wish to engage my children directly and face their... their possible enmity of your own volition?” “Yes, my lady.” “Head right into the maw of Tartarus?” “A delectably poetic way of saying it, my lady. Yes, indeed,” he confirmed with a small smirk on his lips. Seemed that he was not the only one easily turning to balladry that night. “And... what would that grant us, again?” she asked, her muzzle twitching a little. Peculiar. “I rush to elaborate, naturally. We have a number of possible scenarios. And, furthermore, ways that those scenarios could progress. Too many ways, which equals too many possibilities. We cannot certainly prepare ourselves for the nearest future without any stable foundations upon which to build and plan. Which is why the most astute thing to do at the moment would be to refine what we have, with knowledge and insight, before deciding what our strategies truly are,” he clarified, speaking in a practiced, clear cadence. “That means, at the moment and due to a lack of more substantial options, heading for the closest, directly available source of such insight. That being none other than the leader of the Nightguard.” His lady’s eyes squinted and she shook her head. Vehemently, as if trying to fathom what Moonwarden was trying to convey, though he knew better than to doubt her understanding his intention and message. “So we need to reach for something so... incongruous. Blatantly so, as well...” She said it in a tone which was... strange. Moonwarden could not discern it entirely. “I... happen to know a thing or two about disparate matters, my lady,” he admitted, having in mind oh so many topics. Alas, the World had to have its limitations in the end, so he had to leave them buried deep within. “But, currently, I can think of no faster way of acquiring the information we seek. And, my lady, it is not as if I have just decided to do this on a whim and I am heading in without a proper plan. I simply had to run it by you first and foremost, since I am expecting some challenges and I am dealing with your chosen children.” He would think his reasoning sound, but Luna simply stared at him in silence. Already presenting him with a difficult task. He could not possibly avert his gaze, as it would show doubt which was not there. But... he could just get forever lost in those eyes, in that cyan cosmos, hiding behind so much. Of the darkness. Of the moonlight. That one gaze that could pull stronger than any of his trained and practiced charms. And the worst part? Being gone in that stare would not have been the most terrible way of spending the rest of his existence, as mysterious as that gaze currently was. Focus, there are words coming. “Why, however, did you wish to consult me, my servant?” Moonwarden frowned. Yet another unusual question. And the tone was also rather... agitated? “I... am afraid I do not follow, my lady.” “Why did you want to consult this with me?” she repeated herself. Loudly. And her voice was only rising. “You wanted me to bless your efforts, perhaps? Or to actually give you a reason to abandon this plan? Are you here to impugn me?!” He expected the unexpected. But not this. Not this tone, nor this volume. Nor the words. He felt his lips parting. His eyebrows arcing. And that chill, like that of an endless expanse, devoid of air or light, traversing through his veins when he saw his lady’s muzzle twisted into an image of forlorn umbrage. He felt his mouth moving, though no sound escaped at first. How could it, in the void? “My... My lady... Impugn you?” he finally asked, surprised he had any words left in him after all. But those had the most interesting of responses, as the Princess’ own gaze widened. She shook her head again. Almost violently. Her expression twisting from furor to remorse. “No, no, I... I did not mean that,” she said, but it did little to cure Moonwarden of this angst, this coldness that had encompassed him. “My lady, I would never...! I am your humble servant, how could I...!” he tried to tell her, to assure her with all the honesty that he had. Unreasonable amounts of it. She didn’t reply. She didn’t even look at him. She simply stood up, causing her chair to topple and rushed towards the terrace in a hurry that was as outlandish as everything else that had transpired. Moonwarden was left alone in the Royal Office for a breath. Short, rapid breath. Just enough for him to wonder what had just happened before his very eyes. Was he dreaming? Was this some sort of a nightmare? It almost hurt like one would. Seeing her so distraught and in confusion, avoiding his gaze... It was worst than having one’s back slashed open countless times just to make a statement. Moonwarden faced a dilemma... Would he dare to follow his lady? No. That was not a dilemma. He rose from his seat, hissing a little as his back straightened, then trotted with the patience of a shadow on the ancient wall. Towards the moonlight, shining in through flapping curtains. Towards the Moon, that made them so. As he reached the outside, greeted by the night’s cold gale, he spotted her immediately. A dark, majestic silhouette against the yet darker sky. Framed by countless stars, some caught in her nebulous mane and tail, some hanging on the endless tapestry above. Majestic, imperious, statuesque. The Lady of the Night. ... she was shaking. Moonwarden’s hooves barely made a sound, even on the marble floor. He did not wish to startle her. However she felt, she did not need further agitation. Even by something as insignificant as trotting. She could hear him anyway. “Moonwarden, I... I wish to apologize. I did not mean what I said,” her voice reached him, even though she did not turn around to gaze at him. He remained silent until he stood by her, slightly behind. If she felt at risk with being... impugned, he preferred to be careful about his placement. But he had to still see her muzzle. And witness those wondrous eyes of hers... glistening in the argent light of the night’s brilliance. She needs us. “With all due respect, my lady,” he told her, in a gentle tone, “apologies to me do not suit you. Reminding me of my place and my overblown ego, naturally, I find you deliciously proficient in it, my lady. But an offering of remorse?” Tried as he might have to heighten her mood like this, he didn’t achieve even for her lips to shudder. Her expression was pensive, locked in stone. Until, after a prolonged moment of silence and tension, she did finally speak, almost as if catching herself off guard. “And... and yet, here it is, my servant. My apology to you. My agitation was misplaced. I alluded to something that I have not considered.” “No,” he responded, fully aware of this audacity. “I do not believe so, my lady.” He caused her one more shudder, but then she finally graced him with a glance. One that pulled at his core. Could he even describe it? There was so much emotion, so much distraught worry. What he witnessed not that long ago on this very terrace, during their talks about the important mission of one Princess of Friendship, that concern paled in comparison. And yet, the reason for this ruefulness had to have been the same, no? Moonwarden waited with utmost patience. Until she felt it right to speak. Until she had the words she meant more... or at least realized that she truly meant. They began with an inquiry. “Have you glimpsed into my mind already?” He shook his head. “No, my lady. I would not. Not to mention, I do not need to,” he spoke in a calm, tranquil tone. As if he was trying not to make a scared bird fly away. “Apologize not for your outburst, my lady. It revealed that, perhaps, it is most beneficial that I asked for this conversation in the first place. Aside from my proposed future task... it seems I have a far greater one to perform tonight. How may your Advisor aid you, Your Lunar Majesty?” he asked with all the decorum he could muster, befitting the position. His lady turned his way entirely, to witness his deep, loyal bow and accept his tribute of servitude. She would find nothing but reverence in his stance, nothing but the readiness to help and eagerness to obey. And, in whatever distress and doubt she was, far greater than Moonwarden had even dared consider from her voluntary isolation in her chamber earlier that night... at least she found some small solace in this homage. “Rise, please.” He immediately followed the order, even if it sounded like but a plea. “At your service, my lady.” A grimace of doubt marred her muzzle at those words. “Why... why are you calling me that?” Moonwarden blinked. A trick question? A test? Or doubt? “You are the Lady of the Night, a diarch of Equestria, a powerful alicorn. The keeper of my pledge of loyalty. It is already a great honour to be able to call you as such, my lady. It is your majesty, customarily, which should be invoked under usual circumstances.” She smirked in melancholy. “I believe that there should be more reasons to receive such esteem than position or custom... for I... I have found myself questioning my worth.” He tilted his head a little. “My lady, that is quite a terrible point to arrive at, especially considering that you are... you,” he replied. With sincerity that did not need more flowery words. “ ‘Me’,” she told him back, glancing away for a breath. “Who is this ‘me’?” she asked the night’s sky, but it remained mute and distant. Unlike Moonwarden. “Where would one start to explain, my lady? For how long would they need to do so?” Watch yourself. “Would this also count as ‘delectably poetic’, my servant?” “Perhaps. Though I prefer to operate on more substantial things than mere verses, my lady,” he responded with a small smirk. Trying to hide the alarm at what had escaped his mouth. “But such questions and expressions do allow me to guess what seems to be troubling you... Could those worries be alleviated with the help of an eager ear and a grey perspective?” “Perhaps... though the last thing I wish right now is to continue sharing plights and pain,” she revealed. “It seems that the outcomes of my past transgressions have, once again, began plaguing Equestria.” Moonwarden knew it all at that point. Well, not everything, but he could imagine just enough. “My lady, would you prefer to return inside, then? The night is astounding, indeed, but there we can sit down, have a breather first. Gather thoughts and prepare good replies. With a little distance from what surrounds us.” His offer seemed to have been received well, as the Princess nodded and turned around, leading the way back to the Royal Office. Away from the light of the stars... but also away from the endless expanse of darkness in between their countless order. Into a place safer, hanging somewhere in between. In that “grey” that could have been very helpful. Moonwarden did his part. With but a few glances and arcane focusing he assured that the wards of the room were strengthened. Nopony outside would know a word, once more. Nopony would dare interrupt. For that one moment, indeed, the Royal Office was cut away from the world around, a safe space for the most important of conversations, safer even than the hidden chamber below. Not as beautiful as the Gardens, of course, but these circumstances were different. He then patiently waited for the Princess to take her place, having restored her seat. Yet she, instead, picked the side table, not far away from their ongoing, meticulous chess game. He allowed her to have a moment, compose herself, naturally. In the meantime, he planned, observed. All her features, all her littlest of movements as she paced the chamber. To learn and anticipate. And his examination remained entirely professional, despite that pull, that urge that remained in his heart. He had to lock it away. Deeper, for he had slipped once tonight already. Even if this feeling inspired him to be here for her. Out of far more than mere duty and obligation. These, however, took precedent. They simply had to. When she finally rested in the seat, ready to begin, he sat himself, sweeping the tails of his coat. And offering her his entire attention, undivided and set. His lady took a deep breath. “I wish... for you to be honest with me, Moonwarden. Entirely and transparently honest.” ... attention immediately laced with worry. “Of course, my lady. You have that and more,” he replied in the only way he could have. Praying that she would believe him. And that she would not in any way prod what... what he could not possibly touch upon. To whom he could pray, however, having her inquiring? She took a deep, forlorn breath. “I... I want to talk about my children with somepony. I want to talk about noctrali. And you would be the only pony about with recent contact and the mind not to be penetrated with misconceptions, but rather clarity and perspective.” Moonwarden bowed his head. “Thank you, my lady, you honor me with this trust and with your judgment. ” He was also trying his best not to show any grimaces. The topic of penetrating minds was a... tricky one when it came to the batponies, as it happened. “But, I suppose,” she continued in the meantime, her tone having grown quite wistful. Enough to change the topic a little. “I... I wish to talk about myself, as well. About me as their mother. Their... deity.” Moonwarden scrutinized every shift in the timbre of her voice, every note. It seemed like this was turning into a discussion that he had never before engaged in with his lady. It was, in its own way, fascinating. If alarming. “That you are, my lady. The Goddess, the ‘Immaculate Moon’,” he stated the obvious. “ ‘Immaculate’... what asinine nonsense...” Now that caused him to raise his eyebrows. “Strong words, my lady. I am not surprised to hear you express some doubts about that, naturally. But to mark this entire demarcation as codswallop seems rather extreme.” “ ‘Tis the truth, however, Moonwarden,” the Princess insisted. “I’m far from being considered pure. Never aspired to be that. I know my plights and my shortcomings. Even the sheer fact that I have a pony like you as my Advisor and closest supporter already proves a lot.” “I cannot say that I am missing the point being made, knowing myself. Especially since those words do make me feel rather distinguished,” he admitted, shrugging. “Nevertheless, I would defend the position that my employment proves that you are willing to do what is necessary for the right cause, using ponies like me for the betterment of Equestria. It is a mark of spirit and tenacity.” “I’m afraid you shifting all of my flaws into strengths might not succeed tonight, my servant. Nor shall the talks of ‘willingness’ be enough.” “And I fear, my lady, that you denying what seems obvious shall likewise not lead to anything productive ,” he retorted in a tone a little bit more adamant. “Nopony knowing you, aware of your intentions, could express doubts. You are a protector of Equestria in more ways than one, with your power here and in the world of dreams and fantasies. That has to account for something.” She seemingly didn’t mind his volume nor his conviction. Good, because he would hate to make a wrong call, especially as fretful as he felt. She scrutinized him back, again threatening him with that deep, mysterious and alluring depth of her gaze. “Your words would reassure, but tonight... I think I have reached a point when I need to look past what’s easily consoling and ask difficult questions of myself... with a witness and an outside perspective.” Moonwarden nodded. “If only I am capable of such a task, please, my lady. I am at your disposal.” She let out a pregnant sigh, staring to the side as she did. Afterwards she even brought her hooves to her muzzle, covering her eyes, notably trying to force a statement out of herself. “I’m failing, Moonwarden. I feel that I am failing.” “Whom are you failing, my lady?” “Everypony. My children, ponies of Equestria, Princess Twilight, my sister, you and myself,” she blurted it all out, as if trying her best not to forgot anypony in this confession. “When I returned from my exile... when I was freed of the Nightmare, of my Nightmare, I had to face a lot. The history, the outcomes... as much as I realized them then. I knew I was not ready to simply return to my duties, that I had to establish new rules, new boundaries for myself. Celestia was of great and eager help... though perhaps her previous actions about the... the Soleera Cruziate did motivate her even more. Then you came around when I needed a confidant... I was glad to take it slower, to familiarize myself with this life and its goals again. And yet...” She paused and Moonwarden felt no urge to rush her. Both he and himself sat still, motionless, in perfect silence that was filled only with the Princess’ voice. “You... you saw me in the Royal Parlour, you must have,” she stated the fact suddenly. “Please, my lady, be more precise for your own sake,” he only told her in return. She was not taken by surprise, but needed a moment longer to do just that. “It... lingers,” she whispered, but he heard her more than clearly. “Not the influence, not in entirety. But the... the feeling,” she spoke up, trying to be transparent. “It’s like an imprint. An old wound, that could be reopened if stretched or irritated.” Moonwarden’s lips curled just a little. “Only instead of on one’s back, it is in one’s mind?” The Princess nodded, realizing anew that he could understand that comparison perfectly. “Mind. Heart... The very essence of oneself.” She paused briefly. “You must realize it, my servant, that what I have done... what I have decided to do under the influence of the Nightmare... it wasn’t without my participation. Perhaps with... with corrupted expectations, but the fact that I stood against my sister? I have done so willingly.” Moonwarden took off his monocle. He felt it, for once, morphing her visage in his eyes. He needed to look at her clearly and directly. And, well... that eyepiece was the mark of his own, lingering iniquity. Though, as it appeared, of the two of them he was at peace with it after all. “I could play the guessing game, my lady... but I would rather ask the obvious question about your choice. ‘Why?’ ” “Inferiority,” she spoke bluntly. Letting this word echo without an echo. “But not the kind that Equestria remembered in its tales... though knowing what I know now from Celestia does cause this version make sense to me...” the Princess admitted, shaking her head. “It wasn’t bitterness out of neglect, being omitted as a ruler, as the Lady of the Night. I had a whole nation that did nothing but venerate it, dwell in the eventide and its mystical glory, under my Moon. “But... my sister had more. The charisma, the stature. The presence. As we stayed in our old castle, she was the one approached, pampered with smiles and gestures of loyalty. I... I was the somber second. Because I delved in matters secret, shadowy, because I dealt with threats to Equestria that many did not even know existed, not only in the domain of dreams and nightly fantasies. Celestia always felt better in the spotlight, so to speak. And for our subjects, she was the glorious leader. And I? I was not shining with my own light, only with a reflection of hers.” Moonwarden nodded in thought. “And that was not enough for you, was it, my lady? You wanted more. Instead of accepting your position as, also, crucial and imperative to the developing country, instead of finding your comfort in it and making it your own, instead of betterment... you wanted recognition. Greater one still.” Their gazes were locked once again, Moonwarden feeling like his words were hitting all the right marks... or was he so lost and charmed by her stare? “You... are correct, my servant,” she did ascertain him. “Noctrali... They saw and always considered me a powerful goddess, their Mother. In Equestria, I was ‘younger ruler’ at best, a patron to some remote, indigenous confederacy. That discrepancy was... glaring in my eyes.” “Not to mention rather conceited, knowing Equestria’s own history. So, of all things... a display of power and dominance is what you sought, my lady? To show Equestrians that you were far more than just the ‘lesser sister’?” Moonwarden asked, though he already anticipated the answer. “That is what the Nightmare whispered to me, yes... What suggestion it planted in my core and the one that I decided to... consider. Then plan. Then act upon...” she murmured in shame, looking down. The pieces fall into place. Himself was right, so Moonwarden retorted. “That is why you took Ravenlynn’s suggestion so strongly, my lady. To act like a goddess before the batponies, to even indirectly impose your will... it would bring you that much closer to that time. To that... temptation. Once again.” She didn’t reply. For a minute. Then two. Just sitting before him not like a powerful alicorn... but an ashamed, discouraged mare. She meant a lot to Moonwarden. Professionally. Personally. But to see her like this? It could not stand. She wasn’t just an ordinary mare, that was a fact. She couldn’t have been. “My lady...” he spoke in her stead, leaning forth just a little. “Did you grow to fear the extent of your own power?” She shuddered a little and again faced him. Her eyes were darkened. Her tone was grim. “I worry what it can bring forth. In me and in others. Last time, I was twisted by the promise of respect and adoration, of having not only my children, but everypony under my hoof. And that last time—” “Was a millennium ago,” he interrupted. Strongly. “That millennium you have been incarcerated, my lady, entwined with the Nightmare, writhing in failure. Yours. Theirs. Matters not. You mean to tell me that you learnt nothing from that? Nothing about what happened and why?” He saw her eyes widen. He found his opening, using an angle that she was not expecting. Good. She would listen. “You got manipulated, your desires were used against you. There was an opening and Nightmare used an angle that you were not expecting. And you listened to it. You admit it to yourself. You feel ashamed for it. Which is a positive thing. It is experience. But it should be motivating, reassuring, not debilitating.” She was keeping the eye contact, though everything was telling him that she wanted to look aside. However, unlike what he was used, when his spells would compel ponies to stare, this time it was something else. His lady really wanted to be helped. Well, she would have to help herself, first. Otherwise, it would not last. “Let me ask you a question or two, my lady. And, just like you desired honesty, I want to expect it back,” he told her. Impudently even, but that was warranted, he believed. “What is this fear, that welled up inside you? You had worries when it came to sending Princess Twilight to Noctraliya, but not dread. Perhaps concerns about Her Solar Majesty’s reaction to your ploy, but not this trembling anxiety. Which, by the way, does not really have anything to do with the Nightmare, I do not believe so.” To say that she was shocked that he contested her, that he “impugned” her as she had accused him of, would not be entirely true. But she straightened herself up in her chair, her mane flicking and shifting in its own, agitated way. She tried to create distance from Moonwarden, visibly. He was not going to let her escape. He was closing in on something. Something that she had to face. Something that she wanted to face... but did not feel strong enough to. That cannot stand. Agreed. He leaned forth, squinting his eyes, speaking with double the conviction. Himself fighting with his instincts, but knowing better than to let those win. For her own good. “You cannot simply fear that power, that would be absurd. And you are better than worrying about making the same mistake again, my lady. I know it for a fact. And you, definitely, are no ordinary pony. You are not a frightened filly, you are the Lady of the Night! What would make you forget that...?” He could not possibly make her uncomfortable with these inquiries, but he paused, giving both of them a breather. But not to relinquish the advantage, no. Only to wait for the right moment to enunciate what reasoning he had arrived at. And the Princess? She was still not escaping with her gaze, which was a good sign, though what was happening in that cyan stare was impossible to explain. So many emotions, so many conflicting thoughts. A spark of irritation. Good, that always made senses more acute. A glint of shame. Natural, she was still trying not to admit something to herself. A shimmer of gratitude? Or was it his imagination? Well, he was about to find out. Depending on whether he had read her right. It was a bet. One to make cold sweat run down his back at the possibility of being wrong, causing the scarred flesh to tingle. “You... fear your children.” Her lips shivered a little. And Moonwarden pointed at her. He actually pointed at her. An accusatory hoof, because of all the things he could risk saying that was both the most improbable and the most dismaying. “You are their goddess and you fear them,” he stated, as if presenting a case before a court. A court of existence itself, witnessing all of this. “Inconceivable... a deity afraid of the faithful. Of those that present her as perfect, as their divine mother. Caring and benevolent. Kind and stalwart. I can just imagine the depth of their devotion... and their supreme being fears them?” She was still staring at him, silent, but her whole body screamed. From her shifting mane to her trembling legs. A great part of her wanted him to stop, he knew it. But the one side of her that he truly needed to heed wanted nothing more than for him to keep going, until she would hear her due. Moonwarden’s vestments were glued to him with sweat at this point, his mane curling at the sides from it, but he had to continue. And he could not show leniency. “So that is what you have convinced yourself of. This is the panic, awoken by all that you have learnt. That is the chain that holds you down, bound. It might be the Nightmare’s outcome, but not its fault!” he felt his volume rising. “You wanted to give the batponies a chance, that is why you sent Princess Twilight to them, because you believed that they could embrace greater bonds with us on their own, embrace at least some ideas of Friendship, as naïve as that dogma can be! But now you know that they were not kindly or morosely waiting for a chance, but cultivated this... this thirst for repayment! And that is holding you back?!” “I...” words came from her after all. “I... still think they can do it, granted the chance, I... simply wish to exercise caution, I believe it’s understandable and—” “ ‘Caution’?” It was not her speaking, however. Not his lady. Only her dole and her gloom. Her melancholia. So he paid it no mind, even as her tone was clawing at his heart. “That is not caution, that is timidity!” he dared to shout. Fighting the panic at the very notion that he was doing so towards her. “The Lady of the Night is not timid! She is compassionate like the evening after a day of labour and yet unyielding like the Moon’s argent light! She is nurturing to her faithful and terrible to those that would threaten them! Not letting herself be threatened! And by her own coven! Preposterous!” “... Moonwarden...” She heard her. But he had to say it. He had to tell her all of it, despite any protests. He hoped that he would pay for this insolence. “Do you dread that by actually acting you will fall short of their ideal? Be somewhat inadequate? Do something wrong, inadvertently? That would still be better than apathy! Especially one born out of angst!” “Stop.” No, we cannot. “Oh, or maybe it is not that after all! Maybe the great Lady of the Night, a being with the power to move even a heavenly body, is worried to feel that thrill again?! Maybe it bothers you that it is as tempting and tantalizing to actually adhere to your role?! To call yourself a ‘mother’ and be one?!” “Stop!” I am so sorry, my lady. “To tremble at the very thought that you will again actually enjoy being a goddess, having this responsibility and having this gift?! Oh, how the Nightmare has won! Right now you are not a goddess, you are not a Princess, you are not even the lesser sister!” “Enough!” That was the only warning he got. Her astral mane shifted and billowed. Her voice alone shook the chamber. Whether the soundproof wards held nopony would be able to tell, as its very volume felt that much more magnified and omnipresent in this closed space. The Princess’ presence, her alicorn aura have grown, expanded by the virtue of her might, her anger. Invisible, but palpable, as it was enough to push Moonwarden firmly against the back of his chair. He couldn’t stop a grimace as his scars became blades piercing straight into his back. He was contained, locked as he was by what felt like a never-ending gust of wind but was far more unbridled. And far more supreme. His lady realized what she was doing. But her outrage remained, not blown out like a candle by the same gale when she saw his face twisting with pain. And Moonwarden smiled inwardly, as tough as it was for him, for a multitude of reasons. He had to endure her very proximity repelling him for a good couple heartbeats before she allowed him to spare himself the agony of the plush seat. Her mane fell back into its strange dance and the flare of her might subsided. Not that he was to be relieved, having withstood it. “Out of my sight.” Her voice was imperious, unyielding and clear. Moonwarden scrambled off the seat, trying not to let any more pain appear on his muzzle. He still gave her a proper, if short bow, pitying his aching body and tingling skin against her displeasure. He didn’t linger for even a breath longer, head kept low, returning the Office’s enchantments to regular levels and then withdrawing from the place post haste. As she ordered. He opened the doors without even a creak and crossed the threshold. “Moonwarden.” This time his body locked up of his own volition. He turned back, giving her another, proper bow, through the pain. “Here, my lady.” When he looked up, the Princess was standing by the chessboard to the side, head held high. Holding a crystal blue piece which, in her firm, magical hold, suddenly shined with a silvery hue. “Queen’s messenger captures king’s rook,” she declared and her gaze found his once again. He nodded at everything it conveyed. “At your service, my lady.” *** Twilight fell. She fell and fell. Deeper and deeper. Diving down. Only to rise up and only to fall again. Into and from a crashing ocean the color of moonlight. An expanse of argent brightness in which she tried to find something. Seven somethings. She was doing her best to reach through the tumultuous waves, to grasp what was escaping. Two and one and two and two. Sparkles, glints, starlight drowning in light. She held her breath, she strained her foreleg. She could reach them, she knew it, she just needed something. She needed a way, she needed a solution. The sparkles, they needed to hear the sound. For her to understand, to fathom the fathoms. Her true night’s rest could wait. Mysteries in her mind had to be uncovered. So she found herself diving back into the silvery water, listening for the light, looking for the sound, asking for the answers. They were there, she knew it. Like the constellation of signs hidden, but blatant, motes of light in a forest of motes and distant echoes. But it wasn’t working. She needed to dig deeper, reach further. She had to take a deeper breath... ... but she couldn’t. She tried again with the same result. Her lips were above the light, she knew, but air was not to be found out there. But she needed it! To live she had to know! To know she had to breathe! She writhed her head, or attempted to, to escape the constriction, to continue her errand, but something was weighing down on her with the firmness of metal and the weight of duty. Why did she feel like she recalled what it was? She tried again, once more feeling strain in her foreleg, futile in its attempts to remove the obstruction that was covering her mouth. Her eyelids flickered once, than twice, her consciousness pulling her away from her goal, from her task! A silhouette loomed over her. Twilight groaned, then shivered all over as the sleep started fading and the awareness returned without haste... only to wake her up in panicked hurry, as a visage of an armored pony turned out to be far more real than a fevered, nightly vision. The figure was keeping its hoof on her mouth, forbidding her from screaming in fear. She wriggled, trying to get away desperately. But the intruder’s strength, as he attempted to stop her struggles, was greater. There was one thing left to do for Twilight. She had to flare her horn, cast a spell to fight against her assaulter, who was looming above her menacingly! ... why did she suddenly feel like she was having a déjà vu? That moment of surprise distracted her just enough, as it happened. The shade, with uncanny swiftness moved away his metal-clad hoof, only to hit it against the other, with the force to send forth a vibrating tone. Then, before she could even register it, it touched her forehead, just besides the horn. The reverberating sound... it... it buzzed in her head... it shook her very mind and... and... The sparkles... they heard the sound. Twilight blinked, feeling as if a thick fog was lifted from her memory, as if she was pulled over the cover of clouds, to witness the argent light of the Moon in full splendor, over the majestic peaks of her remembrance. The Test of Faith, the meeting, the conversation, the lessons, the prophecy, the hope... it all came back, like a gust of warm wind rushing down the mountain slope, having gathered and built up to finally overcome its great obstacle. Enlightenment came with recognition of the pony above her, though it was infused with surprise as well. “C... Constellation?” she asked of the figure, who had stepped away to give her some breathing room. Literally. He raised his hoof, just like the last time, taking a moment to tend to the dark cloth covering his muzzle in a solemn, ritualistic way, then securing it in its satchel. When his golden eyes found her, she was already out of her covers, patiently waiting for him to utter all the needed prayers. Though, before he spoke, Twilight had a chance to see that he looked as sickly, if not more, than when they had met the last time. Still his voice, raspy but firm, sounded as otherworldly and exotic as she now could recall... and for the same reason. “Greetings and salutations to you, Envoy, Disciple of the Sun, Sparkle of Twilight,” he greeted her customarily. And in Noctraliyar. “Greetings, Constellation, greetings,” she replied, still battling the remains of shock... and the resurgence of memories, making her head woozy just a little. Or maybe it was her jumping out of the bed too quickly. “You’re... you’re back to talk to me again?” The Sanctuarian nodded. “That and more, Sparkle of Twilight. Your mind, through the grace of the Immaculate Moon... remembers again. Just like, by Her will, it was protected from memories that would not serve you, nor the Goddess.” Twilight did realize the present scenario rather quickly. It made her look at him askance. “I’m... grateful that I again recall everything... especially the last lesson of hope and trust in Her will, because that was rather encouraging, but... I don’t think I am that overjoyed by the realization of somepony or something messing with my memory. Anypony and anything, for that matter. It’s rather invasive, don’t you think?” For the moment, Constellation did not stand there just as a member of a feared order of sacred warriors. He actually looked... amused, as much as a pony like that could have been. “I can grasp your unease. Although... We often think we know what is best for ourselves, forgetting that there are beings that have a far greater understanding. And situations that require for us to follow a different path than we have envisioned for ourselves,” he told her with a smile that cracked his dry lips a little more. “But when that happens, we are inspired as necessary and impeded when it is warranted. It is not our role to question that, but to trust.” “You make it sound much more natural than it is...” “I could tell you quite a lot about that, having been called to this sacred role I am fulfilling with my imperfect self,” he declared with a voice that knew no doubt. “I would definitely love to hear that story, Constellation... but I have a feeling that I soon won’t recall that either. What’s the point of gaining knowledge that one shall soon not remember?” she asked the provocative question. Of him and herself, actually. But he just kept smiling, tilting his head a little. She took it as a warning and invitation to continue simultaneously. “I won’t challenge what you have said about trusting... but only because I can now recall what we did talk about before,” she told him, shaking her own head a little. “I’m not sure I can just ignore that feeling of... uneasiness. It persists.” “Just like the blessing of the Gift of Hope did persist, did it not, Sparkle of Twilight?” the Sanctuarian asked with that little bit of grim coldness. Which was enough to make her swallow nervously. “I... won’t win this argument, will I?” Constellation’s gaze, though deep and strangely tired, glinted with something jovial. “For the better, believe me. You shall be gifted with the perspective when the time is right,” he told her. Actually eliciting a strange smirk from her. She could try opposing further, of course, but what would that gain her? Not to mention that, at least the last time, their forgotten conversation had been, indeed, pleasant and even empowering. It seemed more logical to dive into this rabbit hole. She read a story about that once. “Right... so, to what do I owe the honor, Constellation? I have my inklings, but...” The stallion took a step towards her, his stomp heavy with obligation. The light of the one candle in Twilight’s chamber danced across his heavy armor and the disc of luneeit embedded in it firmly. “The Goddess’ design must be fulfilled. The strength you have received so far, to carry it out, needs to be further nurtured. We have been granted wisdom,” he declared, glancing up and almost through the chamber’s ceiling, so focused was his gaze. “The Immaculate Moon... needs you. Needs you and your perseverance. And your resolve. The signs have spoken, as prepared... and as undersigned.” Twilight blinked at those perplexing words. “I... was a participant in some strange ‘signs’, indeed. First, in the shrine, then I saw peculiar glints in one of the fountains.” “These omens were inclined.” “Inclined...” she parroted, considering what he actually meant by that. But the emphasis in his statement called her attention as well. “And the others...? Was there another prophecy? Like the one before? Is this why—” “No, but we have heard what must be done,” he interrupted enigmatically. “We know now that we must reveal to you yet greater secrets, so your very soul is infused with the might necessary to complete your task.” “I am... intrigued, but bothered?” she disclosed, feeling her voice warbling just a little. “What do you mean ‘infused’?” Constellation pointed at her and she felt the poke in her chest. Or so she thought. “Your deserving heart still holds the great traits that push you onward. It wields the power of your dogmas and those are respected by the Goddess. But it needs bolstering, safeguarding with the might of Her sorrowful guidance. And it can only be done so for you are a mare of Divine Aspect. A lesser envoy would not contain it, nor grasp it.” “Only because I am... an alicorn?” Twilight inquired, feeling that familiar push in her mind. To uncover everything and anything he meant. He must have felt her urge himself. “Indeed, Sparkle of Twilight. And for the reason, you must agree to be taken where we need to go. What you shall witness, you must wish to witness, though I cannot explain it with words. And so I ask you, Envoy, Disciple of the Sun, Sparkle of Twilight...” He lowered his head in a gesture of deference, of all things. “... to accept the invitation and join my brothers and sisters, as a visitor at the heart of our sacred congregation.” “W-wait... a guest where? In... in your...?” She wanted to ask eloquently, she really did, but the very notion scrambled her brain. Was she actually getting an invitation to meet with the other Sanctuarians?! And in their... their... monastery, or stronghold, or whatever place they had around here? She did reason that they had a meeting ground or complex, though she was never told where exactly. Did anypony but them actually know? One the one hoof, it could have been so exciting to learn of it, even for a brief moment! On the other hoof... was this opportunity a blessing or a curse? Not to mention two other hooves... Well, there was one way to find out. And so Twilight took a deep, solemn breath, claiming this last moment to face this dilemma. Would she follow this mysterious warrior? Not that there was an actual dilemma for her mind and heart. “I accept, for the glory of the Immaculate Moon...” She thought it prudent to add this declaration and bowed her head... and when she lifted it, Constellation was right by her, though she never heard him approach. “Then you shall follow,” he annunciated right before hitting his hooves together and pressing one of the vibrating gauntlets to her temple before she had a chance to react. “Now, wait just a...” That is all she managed to utter before she found her consciousness deafened by the metallic call. “... moment.” She finally finished the sentence, though had no idea how much time had passed. She knew it had and it must have been quite a ‘moment’, indeed. Especially since she had, similarly, no clue where she even was. Only that Constellation was right beside her, carrying a small, hooded lantern with but a flicker of a flame in it. And that they were in some sort of a narrow, rough tunnel. Facing a doorway. Not a grand one, nor an ornate one. Not when it came to splendor or opulence. However, the barrier before Twilight was inlaid richly with nothing else but luneeit, in an overlapping pattern that looked both like a starlit sky and prison bars. The last faint echoes of the vibrating sound were fading away around Twilight’s mind. Though some irritation was doing quite the opposite, filling the place after whatever enchantment she had been subjected to. “I’m really not enjoying this memory and consciousness play, Constellation.” The Tuarian didn’t react much, even to her agitated tone. “The secrecy of this place is paramount, great caution must be used to keep it so.” “Clearly...” she complained a little more but then decided to focus after all on straight facts, rather than askew feelings. “Where even are we?” she asked. After all, she was seeing no other defining features about the place. Just the door before her and corridor behind, enveloped in darkness that she could not pierce. Not without her vision spell. And she both didn’t have the chance to use it, nor did she think it would even work near Constellation and all this present luneeit. The Tuarian answered her after a raspy breath. “This is the deepest part of our complex, Sparkle of Twilight. Not the shrine above, nor the ancient halls and meditation chapels by which you have traveled.” Which Twilight couldn’t remember and which she definitely counted as a loss. She imagined a monastery of an ancient order would look more than breathtaking. Constellation turned his muzzle to her, his deep-set eyes gleaming with deference. “This. This is the Sanctuary, though those beyond our ranks will not know it is so.” Now there was a declaration to distract Twilight from feeling so uneasy and perturbed about her whereabouts. And by ‘distract’ she would mean filling her with a whole new level of anxiety, having realized the weight of those words. Though also granting at least a sliver of understanding when it came to not recalling the path to the place and the “invasive” means of protection. “So... is this the first cavern? From where your race’s history began?” she inquired, now very cautiously examining the doorway. There was something definitely... eerie about it. Otherworldly, almost. And if the entrance was so foreboding... what lay behind? “First cavern...” Constellation mused. “Not in the sense of the dwelling and place from which our blood can be traced. But in the sense of our faith, yes. And especially our sacred mission.” He focused on the doorway himself. “What lies beyond was uncovered not long after the Immaculate Moon... awakened us, by those that would become the first Sanctuarians. A mystery that is ours to safeguard, to draw from in the service of Hers... but tonight, one for you to witness. One of the few to ever do so outside of our congregation. And the first of the kin walking in the light of the Judging Sun.” Twilight swallowed nervously. “No pressure,” she said to herself, but managed to make Constellation smirk after all. “Trust in the Goddess, Sparkle of Twilight. And trust in yourself,” he encouraged her, then pointed at the entrance. “Now... What do you see before you?” “A solid doorway, with luneeit embedded in it. The same mineral as in your breastplate, I can tell by the hue,” she said, squinting her eyes. “Strange pattern, as if reinforcing the entrance... Brings to mind a... vault of some sort?” “Very good...” he praised her calmly. “And what do you think it houses, then?” “I... suppose it must be something—” “Do not ‘suppose’. Look.” “A-alright,” she replied with a shiver, hearing the rather blunt and firm encouragement. Look. She would look, yes. This was a... special door, yes, blatantly. This particular set was full of a mineral that was, by its nature, repulsing magical currents, like she had learnt all the way back in Canterlot. Would that mean that...? ‘Look’. Yes, of course. She focused, extending her gaze to encompass the flow of the arcane currents... and what she then witnessed she could barely grasp. The doorway itself, ironically, helped contain her shock as much as it could. But on the very edges of it, despite the many pieces of luneeit in the frame around it, where the protection was weakest, trickles of magic were more than blatant. ... did her mind say “trickles”? Well, as much as a water sprouting out of a hole in a dam was a ‘trickle’. Arcane currents were shooting out like sideways geysers. Bright and violent and beautiful in their own way. They enveloped this entrance like an aura, constantly seeking escape, held back only by the sheer properties of the mineral in abundance. They rapidly attempted to venture away from the luneeit and the sheer force of their expulsion spoke volumes about what must have been happening just behind this barrier right before her. The implication forced a current of fear to travel through her in the meantime. “This... I have never seen such... such raw magic,” she but whispered, yet Constellation heard her easily. “You do see it, through the Gift of Magic, good,” he said, nodding. “We, as the children of the Goddess, cannot. We, as the guardians of this holy place, however, can feel that in the chamber before us there is an immense force. Brought forth by the Goddess, left through Her sorrow. That small part of Her mercy to be granted, so it can be used to further Her cause...” “I... I’m not entirely surprised you would feel it, such concentration of arcane ley lines would cause multiple phenomena and could be experienced by just about anypony close enough to the source! And those currents here, it’s like they are bursting forth from... from...” She felt her eyes widening. “From a source! There is a fount of magic in there?!” Constellation did nod. “Not something I entirely grasp, no, but I believe you are correct, Sparkle of Twilight,” he told her, taking a step forward. “What you are about to witness we have utilized in our sacred tasks. We have been taught to draw from it, as much as we can, bereft as we are of the Gift granted to the ponies gazing beyond.” Twilight shook her head, amazed. “Is this where your abilities come from? The Tests, the strange vibrating tones, is this due to this source?” “Those abilities we do not view as ours, Sparkle of Twilight. We are allowed to use them, they are lent to us by the grace of the Goddess. From here,” he explained, adamant in this view. “And now, you have to witness it. To, by Her will, be infused with this power, so that Her plan w—” “Wait!” she shouted, interrupting him. He stood there for a moment, motionless, before his lips closed and his eyes grew that much more keen. And she rushed to explain, seeing that piercing glare. “I... I’m not opposing, no, this, this is an unmatched honor! But this is also an incredible amount of magic that I am feeling. Even for me this could... I cannot just walk in like this!” “Why?” he asked, and Twilight could not really tell if he was genuinely oblivious or putting her to yet another test. “I-I have no idea how I would react. Whenever I... utilize the Gift of Magic so generously bestowed upon me,” she wanted to explain without dwelling too much on the batpony belief about the acquisition of that particular skill, “I take great precautions. Even if I gather power through my horn, I do it gradually, building focus and controlling every step! I pluck at the ley lines gently, when... when they are like a calm river around me, or a playful stream at worst. Not a waterfall or a great geyser!” She made a comparison that she hoped he would understand. His curious glance did not betray that, necessarily, but something about his tired eyes did change. “You do not desire such power?” he suddenly asked. More testing? Or a trick? She didn’t know, but already had an answer. “What I want in my life, it is to know,” she spoke. Clearly. Firmly. “If you are asking if I would like to claim such great power, if I have suddenly felt the urge to claim it all for myself, you already know my answer. You put my heart to the Test. Let that be the testimony.” Constellation stood still, ominous and towering. Not just as an iron-clad warrior, but as a servant of the Goddess. Whatever Twilight still thought about that divinity, with everything happening around, it was granting him a presence that could easily push her on the back hoof. It was not going to happen, however. She was a Princess. An Envoy. Disciple of the Sun. She had been asked to visit this secret place. It meant she was already trusted enough. She had nothing to fear. And he knew it, as he smiled, making his lips even more damaged and his greenish fangs blatant. “This is exactly why you were deemed worthy, Sparkle of Twilight. Now allow yourself to be imbued with the Goddess’ sorrowful grace,” he exclaimed, taking another step forth. “And banish the remnants of fear. You can progress in your own tempo. I am here to make sure you are safe. As are my brethren inside.” Twilight wasn’t sure if anypony staying inside such a potent source of magic could be in any shape to keep anypony safe... but she was not going to voice all the doubts. She had to trust in somepony, right? Or something. Constellation approached the doorway and Twilight subconsciously pressed her hooves more firmly into the stone. If there was to be a wave of magic coming through this corridor, she had to be ready for anything, even with reassurances. The Sanctuarian pressed his armored hooves to the stone surface with gentleness. She heard him muttering something under his breath, as he put his forehead against the barrier. And though she saw no mechanism, she heard a rumble as the passageway began opening. From the bottom, as soon as a greater crevice happened, a tidal force of arcane currents pushed on. They swept over Twilight’s legs, making her feel warm and cold at the same time. It was a thrust of magic that she had not felt before, it had almost a tempo to it. Like real waves, crashing against the shore. Only this time, instead of the sound of water and ocean... she heard a wail. Or so she thought. It was near impossible for magic by itself to have a sound, unless one would have in mind the sound of it gathered around a horn. But a raw flow? To project some sort of a call? Was it her imagination, spurned by the sensation of the ley lines freed and desperately escaping down the corridor? And yet, there was it again. Like a low, metallic moan, with its own rhythm and... a vibration to it. Yes, it was there. It was calling to her. But she waited. She could, a moment longer, as the door was revealing more and more what was behind. And whatever it was, it was giving away an argent aura, dancing across raw and rough walls that she spotted on the other side of the chamber. Liquid? The silver lines shifted and changes like moonlight across a lake’s surface. Perhaps the currents were making her see things. Were she not trained enough to distinguish the magic from physical world around, she would claim the entire cavern before her was pure light. It was saturated with magic, coming from all over, but mostly beyond, where the edge of some sort of a terrace was. Twilight felt actually blessed by her talent being that of magic. She could practically breath in the arcane power, it was so potent... and though she was never one to be intrigued by illicit substances, she could imagine that this was a whiff of how it would feel. Intoxicating. Empowering. Making one yearn for more... Constellation waited until the doorway was completely open, then stared back at her with interest and a dosage of care. “Are you ready to proceed, Sparkle of Twilight?” She took a deeper breath. She would withstand this. “I am. Lead on.” He nodded and, uttering one more prayer, crossed the threshold of the place, with Twilight following close by. Almost pushing against the tide... still surprised that, other than that little feeling of elation from the sheer volume of the magic, she felt mostly fine. Maybe it was that rhythm? That wailing tone? It persisted, coming and going, but there. Was it calling to her? Summoning her and easing her into this place? To what reason? She entered the chamber, awash with raw magic. First spotting that two other Sanctuarians, like motionless statues, guarded the entrance from the inside, deep in a meditative prayer of sorts. Or unconscious due to the amount of power surrounding her. She would not be surprised, even convinced of their capabilities... Twilight stood on a platform of sheer rock, protruding over some sort of a... crevasse, heading from her right to her left, like the mountain’s very base was split by the omnipresent force. There were no railings, no safety measures... even if those could truly be found in this magically abundant place. Only one construction stood on this natural shelf, resembling a crane of all things. Like over a well... She took another deep breath, to steady herself, though she was... alright for now. The thrill was still settling in her bones, one made of magic and nerves alike, but without adverse effects. Not ones she could perceive currently, though she was not expecting that to last forever. She glanced questioningly at Constellation, who was keeping her company slightly behind. He did not speak, only his gaze told her to approach the edge of the platform. ... they were not expecting her to jump down, right? Well... she considered that she could trust an ancient, sacred order at least that much and simply trotted forth, measuring her steps. Witnessing the currents of magic pouring up from beyond the shelf, like waves of an ocean in the storm hitting a cliff face and shooting upwards violently. She did not wish to test their strength head on... but she had to at least look, if that was required. And so she did. And barely stopped herself from recoiling outright. The entire crevasse was filled with an argent liquid, sending many reflections all around the rocky surfaces, in a dance that had no choreography other than the pulsating rhythm. Caused by the shining surface raising up and falling, pushed up almost by a set of invisible, arcane lungs. Every flow sent forth magical ley lines, every ebb simply prepared itself for more. Every one of those exhales carried forth incredible power, the nature of which was as elusive as blatant to her. Too blatant. Twilight backed away, bumping slightly into Constellation, who immediately grabbed her and held her in place. A sting of panic made her think that he was about to actually push her into the chasm, but his armored hooves merely secured her. Good, because she needed all the grounding that she could get, having witnessed a sight that was as magnificent as mane-raising. “C-Constellation, this...!” “This is the sacred pool from which we are granted Immaculate Moon’s... many gifts, to aid her children in their lives. Mother’s Tears gather and are gathered here, to—” “This is quicksilver!” Twilight shouted aloud, as if fearing that the magical currents could muffle her somewhat. Instead, her voice bounced around in a vast echo. “I cannot believe it, I-I never thought I’d see it with my own eyes! I-I read about this! A couple mentions in our alchemy books, all of them warnings! It’s a very dangerous substance! You cannot stay here, we cannot stay here!” The stallion tilted his head a little. Was he so ignorant to the dangers?! Or was he already so absentminded because of the obvious?! “This place is exuding not only magic! Quicksilver emits vapors that could be lethal to ponies! This must be why you look so sickly! Your green fangs, your cracked lips, you could be having trouble even understanding me and—” “I understand you well enough, Sparkle of Twilight,” he replied calmly and, of all things, with a smile. “We, the defenders of this most holy secret have been studying Mother’s Tears for many centuries. Interesting that your tongue associates this special type of blessed silver with quickness. For us, it is a symbol of the Goddess’ eternal love for us, expressed in sorrow. Love from which we drink to better serv—” “You are drinking it?!” Twilight heard metal shifting. And not from the cavern filled to the brim with danger. But from another, potential threat, as her shouting had gathered the attention of the other two Sanctuarians. They lifted themselves up from their prayer position, ominous and stern. She gulped aloud through a clenched throat. Constellation, however, simply turned his head and shook it, signifying no need for any action. And so those silent sentinels in the midst of arcane ley lines and perilous air returned to their motionless vigil. “Fear poisons your heart,” the stallion told her. “Yes, because this can poison my lungs!” she retorted, still rather strongly. “No more than the angst and doubt,” Constellation assured her in return, not minding her tone. “Perils surround you still, Sparkle of Twilight. Ones you can perceive, ones you should not be able to. Closer than you think. Which is why...” He paused, approaching the crane. Twilight shook her head violently. “... you’re not being serious.” The stallion stopped and turned, shooting her a glance that felt like it could spawn far more harm than the substance. “This is no time for jests, Sparkle of Twilight,” he told her in a grim tone. “This exception to our sacred rules we take with utmost solemnity, following what is the will of the Immaculate Moon...” Twilight fidgeted in place. Especially when he reached the, quite well kept considering its possible age, contraption and began cranking it. With a tempo that coincided with the sound and flow from below. They really wanted her to... to ingest quicksilver? As a form of “infusion” as he called it? What would that even do? Was it not poisonous? Constellation looked like he was clearly suffering from the effects of it... and yet, was it possible that these were only the remaining, lasting effects of exposure? He didn’t operate the crane like a pony that was on the verge of collapsing, his movements, even in that heavy armor, were precise and focused... So many question and observations ringed in her mind. And what would this rite even gift her? Last time she was granted a sliver of hope, reminded of the strength in her. In the nights that had passed, she drew from it abundantly. What would happen now? Constellation soon was holding in his hooves a truly ancient looking vase, that swung dangerously with the weight of quicksilver in it. He produced a small, shallow bowl from his belongings and made but a droplet of liquid fall upon it. The sound of it hitting the dark metal was... incredible to Twilight. It was like weeping, like a short, pained wail... but one that expressed just so much emotion, so much affection of all things... They called quicksilver Mother’s Tears? It suddenly felt so appropriate. She shook her head. Or was she simply losing it? This all was going so beyond her understanding. Especially when Constellation approached, in silence and reverence, and bowed his head before her, presenting her with the vessel. “Will you take Her sorrow, a Mother’s sorrow?” he exclaimed with so much veneration that Twilight pondered if he could actually see how much raw, arcane power was locked in such a small droplet. She shook all over, a deep breath which she was going to hold already in her lungs. Not only to steel herself for this trial, but not to inhale anything in such close proximity to... ... to something she was going to drink anyway. Her heart pounded once more with pure fear as she carefully took the bowl. She closed her eyes and... and thought of Midnight, before bringing the liquid to her lips. The taste was sweet. Twilight did not have a chance to ponder upon it, however. As soon as she swallowed, she felt a wave of... something. A force surged through her, starting at her throat, causing her knees to buckle and her eyes to water. She tried to take a breath, but, just like in her dream, she couldn’t. Only now, the argent light did not surround her like a tumultuous sea, but instead welled up in her. She could feel it. It choked her lungs, it filled her heart, it drowned her mind. She felt herself slipping... floating... distant... She... she could suddenly see herself. Suspended in the air. On strands of magic, lifting her up, supporting her. Her own power, raspberry in hue, had changed. Silver strands weaved through it, like veins and arteries, pumping arcane lifeblood. She witnessed her mane flow and shimmer, just like Princess Celestia’s, with magical glimpses and distant, starlit horizons. Her wings unfurled on their own, strangely grand and majestic. It was like an outline of her own self, a silhouette weaved out of pure silver, formed around her body, her alicorn aura expanding and strengthening. And, though she was watching her own body from a distance, Twilight felt it all. The great magic. The deep sorrow. The loving warmth. And then she again fell. She fell and fell. Deeper and deeper. Diving down. Only to rise up.