//------------------------------// // XXIX: Of Tribute // Story: Sunken Horizons // by Goldenwing //------------------------------// “Sunshine, sunshine, ladybugs awake.” Cadance. Twilight’s chest tightened as she read the line over again. She could hear her old foalsitter’s voice in her mind, see the enthusiastic smile that always accompanied the foalish greeting. Even deep in the crystal caverns under Canterlot, Cadance had been able to smile. “I’ve thought about you almost every day since I left Canterlot, Twilight, but it still feels strange to write those words. I admit I’m out of practice. I’ve had little time or opportunity for pen pals with all that’s happened, and truthfully I have little reason to believe you’ll ever read this, but I know I must leave something of myself here before I move on. I cannot bear the thought that you or anypony else I love might by some miracle find this place, hear of my being here, and be left with only stories from the crystal ponies and a cold trail. “There is a catharsis, as well, writing it out. I can at least imagine you reading this, even if you never do. “I don’t know how much you know, so I can only start from when we last saw each other, at the wedding. It feels like a lifetime ago. In some ways it truly is.” Twilight’s hooves were shaking. Was this finally it? A written account of the end of Equestria, from someone who lived through it all? She took a deep breath and continued down the page. “I still don’t really know how the changelings infiltrated Canterlot. Shiny had been warned, but I think that was a decoy to draw attention away from the interior. It all happened so fast, and if Luna hadn’t appeared to help us escape from Chrysalis and her drones, I fear that Equestria may have died that very day. I told them that we couldn’t leave you. You had risked so much to save me, but I was helpless to return the favor. There’s so many things we might have done different, and I’ll never know if any of them would’ve changed anything. Celestia ordered the evacuation with tears in her eyes. “I don’t remember many details, and never had the time to ask for them afterwards. She cast a spell I didn’t think was possible, encasing the city in stone, and then burned an escape path through the mountain. Luna stayed back to help the Guard hold the entrance, and we were able to get most of the city evacuated. I didn’t see Shiny for a week after that. “If by some miracle you ever get to read this letter, I imagine you must be shocked to see what’s become of our world. It breaks my heart to write that, despite living through it all from the very beginning and spending a century poring over every memory, I still know so little.” A century? Twilight paused, rereading the line. So she survived! But then why isn’t she here? The smile that had crept onto Twilight’s face faltered. She shook her head, reading on. “My earliest memory of it was in Fillydelphia. We were organizing a food drive for the refugees, and of course tensions were high. We’d been expecting some stress, but—” Twilight frowned. Most of the paragraph had been scratched out. Splotchy water stains were soaked into the page around it, preserved alongside the ink by the magic. “Fights broke out, and some of them went beyond words. By the time we realized what was really happening, it was already too late. “At first I thought I was the only one suffering. It lurked in the back of my mind and pushed me toward dark thoughts, tried to get me to manipulate those around me and call attention to myself, to steal lovers from others or even kill those that spurned me. Then I began to see it in those I loved, as well. Shiny drove his troops harder and became distant at home, and Luna retreated into herself, speaking barely a sentence on any given day. We didn't even realize she had disappeared until days later, when every thestral in the Night Guard vanished overnight. “Shiny never forgot about you, Twilight. None of us did. When he told me he was going back to Canterlot to find you, I wanted to stop him. But I saw that look in his eyes. He would’ve stayed if I’d asked, but the guilt would destroy him. I wanted to go with him, but there were millions of others that needed me, too. I suppose he was always more of a brother than a husband, and I was always more of a princess than a wife. “I'm convinced I killed him when I let him walk out those doors, but perhaps it was better that way. I'm glad I can remember him as a brother going to save his sister instead of the thing he was being twisted into.” Twilight sniffled, one hoof reaching over to clutch at the saddlebag that still bore her brother’s crest, and the old journal within. It was difficult to imagine him as some cold-faced commander instead of the warm, friendly sibling she remembered. He had a good death, Midnight said. She nodded. And he was himself at the end. She took a deep breath and continued reading. “For some reason I thought Celestia was above the corruption. I saw her more as part of Equestria than in it, and whether from optimism or denial, I refused to acknowledge that she was falling victim to it as well. In hindsight I should’ve seen the signs. She was distracted and bitter when she sent me here, to the Frozen North. She said we might find some way to stop the corruption in the ice, something to save us, but she wouldn’t tell me exactly what. I think it was her corruption holding her back, but instead of pressing harder I gave her space. I thought perhaps she needed to be alone.” Twilight pursed her lips, blinking damp redness out of her eyes as her voice broke. “That’s not what she needed.” How would you know such a thing? “Because I remember what it was like.” Twilight looked up, meeting Midnight’s impassive gaze. “I felt so alone, Midnight. I pushed my friends away because I didn’t want them to suffer the same pain I was, but Celestia—she was surrounded by ponies going through the same thing! They could’ve carried it together!” Will you ever accept that it wasn’t your fault, little flower? Midnight shook her head slowly, her lips curved down into a soft frown as her voice echoed in Twilight’s head. Celestia was alone, yes, but she herself sent Cadance away, perhaps for the same reason you kept your own friends at a distance. She would’ve done the same thing to you. “No. We were different. If I’d just been there—” Twilight choked back a sob. “We could’ve beaten this together! Or l-lost together.” She sighed, looking back down to the letter. “I wouldn’t have to be alone.” For a long moment Midnight said nothing. Twilight’s eyes scanned the page without seeing. Do you feel alone now? Twilight risked a glance up. Midnight held her gaze, clenching her jaw. “I—that wasn’t fair of me to say.” She bit her lip, wiping her tears away and clearing her throat. “I’m glad you’re here.” But you would be happier if I wasn’t, Midnight said matter-of-factly. I hurt our friends and twisted our body, and you wish I’d never existed. Twilight opened her mouth to offer a response, but no words came out. Midnight would know if she lied; there was no point in denying the accusations. After a few seconds of hesitation she found her voice. “But you’ve done good things, too. If you weren’t there to help me then Rainbow would’ve been captured by Gava, or Philomena might’ve killed me and my friends, and who knows what might have happened on Altalusia?” Her confidence grew as she spoke, lending strength to her voice. “You helped me save Spike, helped me cross the ocean, helped me survive and get to where we are now! I couldn’t have done any of this alone.” Yes, I’ve helped you overcome obstacles created by my own presence. You were unable to save our friends alone because you feared what I was doing to you, and they would have been able to help you get here if you hadn’t isolated yourself from fear of what I’d do to them. She looked away, narrowing her bloodshot eyes. Was my assistance worth the cost of your suffering? Again Twilight found herself at a loss, but she recovered quicker this time. She let Cadance’s journal fall to the table. “You’re reminding me of myself, back in Canterlot. What happened to the pony that was always whispering in my ear to hurry up, reminding me of what we needed to do when I faltered, chastising me for wasting time and energy on emotions? She wouldn’t let these doubts get in her way when we’re exactly where we need to be.” She offered an encouraging smile as Midnight’s eyes narrowed. “But she is, so maybe I can help.” She took a deep breath, straightening and looking intently into Midnight’s eyes, speaking through their mental connection and focusing on the meaning behind every word. I didn’t ask to meet you, but I don’t regret it. We didn’t understand each other at first, but you’ve helped me overcome barriers I didn’t know I had and been at my side every step of the way. You forced me to fight to protect my friends when I was too afraid to do it myself, and kept me going when I was at my lowest. But more important than what you’ve done for me, I’m glad for how I’ve been able to help you. You’ve learned so much about friendship, about life, about yourself. And even if we’d failed at everything we tried to do together, I would still be glad that I could help you become the pony you are now, because you’re my friend. She paused to let her words sink in before walking back to the table and sitting down in front of Cadance’s journal. Now let’s get back to saving Equestria, alright? Midnight was silent for several seconds, and for a brief moment Twilight thought she might have gone too far. But then her dark passenger let out an amused snort, walking up to her side and leaning against her. Yes, let’s get back to it. Twilight smiled as the strange, tingling warmth of Midnight’s presence buzzed over her fur. She took a deep breath and focused back on reading. “I could never have imagined what awaited me here. My party roamed the tundra for days, searching for anything that could be of use, and just as I was readying myself to return empty-hooved, I saw the answer. It appeared in a great flash of light, surrounded by a dome of powerful magic. At first I was convinced it was another illusion created by my corruption, but my companions saw it as well, and as we approached I became less sure. “I wish you could see it, Twilight. An entire city made of crystal that seemed to glow like a second sun. It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and my corruption seemed to quiet as I walked through its streets. For the first time I believed there might really be a cure. “I talked to the ponies that lived in it, but they could tell me nothing. There was some malediction hanging over them, clouding their minds. Just after sending my first report to Celestia, I learned its source. “His name is King Sombra, and if you’re reading this you’ve likely encountered him already. I can’t even guess how long he’s been alone now, and he may not be the same pony I learned to work with, as allies if not friends. He may seem cruel, but he cares deeply about the crystal ponies in his own way. Please don’t fight him. Nothing is more important than destroying this awful sickness, and Sombra has helped me come closer than anyone else.” Sombra? We have yet to meet a Sombra. Twilight shook her head with a thoughtful frown. Cadance must have written this letter centuries ago. Anything could have happened to him. Shaper claims he was there when the floods were called, Midnight mused. Perhaps they are one and the same. Maybe she’ll explain more later, Twilight suggested. “I didn’t even realize he was a pony, at first. The way the crystal ponies described him he seemed more like a mindless monster, and I treated him as one. I underestimated him, and he exploited that to turn many of the crystal ponies to his side. By the time I understood I was dealing with an intelligent enemy, the Crystal Empire had fallen into civil war. I wrote to Celestia for help, thinking I could stall until she arrived. “To save the lives of the crystal ponies and my own entourage, I lured him into the Crystal Spire and cast a spell to seal him inside, but he was far stronger still than I’d anticipated. He could sense me everywhere I went, and used magic foreign to me. I don’t know how long he chased me, but several times I felt the shadow of death fall on me. When Celestia finally arrived, I cried tears of joy. “But there was something wrong with her. She told me she’d come to destroy the Crystal Empire and save Equestria, and she wore three amulets I had never seen before, though their power was obvious to me. She wasn’t thinking straight, Twilight. I couldn’t let her kill all those innocent ponies.  “She accused me of abandoning her, of betraying her, of luring her north into some kind of trap, and when she struck me it was Sombra that offered to help me subdue her. As much as it broke my heart, I accepted. “Those three days were among the most terrible of my life, and I have been through so many terrible things. Seeing her truly apply her power to violence is both horrifying and awe-inspiring, like fighting the sun itself. Just as I thought she was going to kill me, Sombra caught her with a magic that I still don’t fully understand. She stopped fighting, but the expression that came over her then has haunted me ever since. “It was then that she cast the spell that flooded the world.” Twilight froze halfway down the page. Her eyes passed over the same sentence several times, mind blank. “It’s true,” she whispered. “She… she really did it.” She paused, waiting for the wave of despair and confusion to crash upon her, but it didn’t come. There was just the same tightness in her chest that had waxed and waned with each paragraph, and the nervous, jittery beat of her heart. Twilight? Twilight licked her lips. “I need to know why.” “There was nothing I could do to stop her. I didn’t even realize what she’d done at the time. She held me in place with her magic and tore the amulets from her body. She poured power into them until they shattered, and I felt the leylines of the world snap, like someone pulling my horn straight out of my skull. When my vision stopped spinning and the pain finally faded, I saw her standing over Sombra completely frozen in crystal, his face twisted with a terror I didn’t think it possible for him to feel. “She left without a word, but I caught a glimpse of the smile on her lips. She almost looked like she used to, but for the blood dripping from her eyes. I thought perhaps she’d found some other, less drastic solution to the corruption. Then the rains started.” “What?” Twilight bit her lip, skimming ahead. “What about Celestia? Is that it?” Steady, Twilight. “I need to know why she did it.” Twilight’s hooves began to shake. “Cadance was right there, she must have some idea!” Focus on the words. Midnight’s calming voice settled over Twilight like a warm blanket. Read. “The rain came down in angry, violent sheets, hard enough to knock down a weaker pony, but the Crystal Empire is high in the mountains, where I thought it was safe from flooding, and I ordered my party to prepare for the trip back to Equestria. I wanted to find Celestia, ask her what she’d done, and do what I could to help. The rain made travel difficult and hazardous, and it took us much longer than previously to reach the foothills, but perhaps that was for the best. By the time we crested the southernmost ridge, most of Equestria was already underwater, and the rain was still coming. “There was nothing we could do but flee back to the Crystal Empire, racing to outpace the floods. We helped evacuate the crystal ponies and gather them high in the Spire, sealing every entrance. Truthfully I thought the rains would never stop. I put on a brave face, but I had already given up hope by the time the sun came out again. “It almost didn’t matter. We had no way to feed ourselves, nowhere to go, and nopony to reach to for help. My corruption was stronger than ever before, and I truly considered flying away and never looking back, if only so that the ponies I left behind could die with some semblance of peace. All would’ve been lost, if not for Sombra. “Somehow he’s alive inside that crystal, and he can speak and even cast his strange magic from within it. He calls himself Shaper now, though he angers when I ask why. He has tried many times, through both trickery and diplomacy, for my help in freeing him from his crystal prison, but I believe it’s best that he remains that way. He may be willing to help when the survival of ‘his empire’ is at stake, but I fear he wouldn’t hesitate to terrorize the crystal ponies again if he were free to do as he wished.” Sombra is Shaper. But that means—Twilight’s brow furrowed as she skimmed over what she’d already read. The spell that Cadance mentioned! He must’ve done something to Celestia to get her to destroy Equestria. She nodded, encouraged by the idea. It’s not her fault. He tricked her! Surely by now we understand that good and evil cannot be so easily separated, Midnight cautioned. We must get both sides of the story. Don’t worry, we will, Twilight said darkly. I’ll need him to explain what he did so I can reverse it. She continued reading, ignoring Midnight’s silent exasperation. “It’s because of him that we survived. He showed me the hiding place of a powerful artefact, the Crystal Heart, and taught me how to use it to inspire the crystal ponies and manipulate the crystal of the Spire to build at its peak, above the ice. He helped me build a pair of arcane airships and taught the crystal ponies to hunt, to use the bodies of the monsters that roamed the ice for food and tools. “After so long I thought that perhaps he’d reformed, or maybe I had misunderstood him, and I let my guard down. Don’t make the same mistake, Twilight. You cannot trust him to act except to serve his own interests, and he is old and clever. I was forced to shatter the Crystal Heart before he could turn it to a darker purpose. “Our partnership has grown bitter since then. At great expense to myself I have sealed him below the ice, though he sometimes tricks corrupted ponies into sneaking below to join him through some manipulation I cannot sense. I have come to love the crystal ponies almost like my own children, and have spent over a century watching them prosper in their own way. It is clear to me now that I am no longer needed here. “Alongside these letters I have left the results of my studies on the three gems I found broken after my battle with Celestia. Even after thousands of hours of study I know little, but I believe they’re the remains of some ancient amulets known only to Celestia. I’ve also left a shard of the Crystal Heart. Although its magic is far diminished compared to the whole, I have found the shards invaluable in suppressing my corruption, and so have left one here as a potential aid for you, or anypony else who finds this place. Please don’t hesitate to use it. The relief is temporary, but far better than the alternative.” Twilight looked up to the cylindrical vessel in the middle of the alchemical table, examining the crystal shard within. Carefully she reached out with her magic, opening the little door on top. She felt Midnight tense as the shard’s light brightened. I don’t like it. Twilight snapped the door shut. Does it hurt? No. Midnight spoke the word in a low growl, letting it sink in before continuing in a more normal voice. It does not hurt me by presence alone. But it discomforts. Twilight nodded. It could be useful. It could be, Midnight agreed. We should take it when we leave, within its container. Along with the amulets. Twilight turned to the three little chests she’d set aside while reading. She’d left them open, allowing each of the shattered gemstones to give off small colored glows as they cast out their powerful auras. It was strange to think that such little things could be responsible for destroying her world, even with an alicorn behind them. How could such powerful artefacts exist when even a princess like Cadance didn’t recognize them? She shook her head, filing the question away for later. The letter’s last paragraphs were still to be read. “I’m not sure what I’ll be looking for when I leave the crystal ponies behind, but I cannot stay here forever. The crystal ponies don’t need me anymore, and the memories formed here haunt me to this day. If you’re reading this, don’t fear for me. I have lived through the end of the world and faced the mare who wrought its destruction. Perhaps I’ll return here someday. I’d quite like to find a letter waiting for me, if so. “One more thing, Twilight. I know you may be curious about the letters I’ve written to others, and you may read them if you wish, but please don’t touch the one for your brother. Not even if he says you can. “I love you, Twilight. Please don’t blame yourself for anything. Unlike us, you never had the chance to stop it.” There was a small space left at the bottom of the page, with only a single, curvy heart drawn on the side. Twilight pulled a pen out of Shining’s saddlebag, her lips curving into a sad smile. What are you doing? You’ll think I’m silly. That’s never stopped you before. It’s just something Cadance and I used to do, when we wrote each other. Twilight could feel her other half’s curiosity as she clicked the pen, setting it to the paper next to the heart with a deep breath. We always started our letters the same way, and signed them once we finished reading. The pen glided across the paper with an easy familiarity. “Clap your hooves and do a little shake.” She set the pen aside, leaning back and blowing gently on the fresh ink. Now the letter’s complete. Midnight snorted, but Twilight ignored the obvious disdain. Instead she turned the page—taking care not to smudge her ink before it dried—and began to flip through the rest of the journal. Several pages at the front were dedicated to letters Cadance had written to various ponies. Some names she recognized, such as Princess Luna, Princess Celestia, and Shining Armor. Others were foreign to her, though a couple shorter letters looked to be addressed to crystal ponies. Past the letters, the journal was filled with extensive notes on the three amulets, listing what magic properties Cadance had discovered and theorizing far beyond them. The blue and green gems appeared to have unique magic signatures unlike anything else Cadance had seen. The red gem, however, had an aura that resonated with both of the others simultaneously. Twilight carefully shut the journal, resting a hoof over its cover. We should leave this here for now, along with the crystals. Cadance hid these here for a reason, and we can’t risk Shaper getting hold of them. Agreed. Midnight drew Twilight’s gaze towards the door, where she was waiting expectantly. Are you ready to confront him once more? Twilight nodded. Cadance’s letter had given many answers, but it also raised questions that burned hotter than ever before. Why would Celestia ever do something so unimaginably destructive? The question loitered in her mind like a vulture circling a dying animal, impossible to ignore, and Shaper was the best lead she had for an answer. She turned and walked to the door, calling on her magic. The Spire’s resistance felt weaker here, so it only took her a few seconds of focus and a brief headache to cast her teleportation. She popped back into existence out in the hall, swathed in darkness, and immediately erected an arcane shield. She caught a brief glimpse of a crystal pony stepping back, retreating into the shadows, and then all was still. “You return empty-hooved, Equestrian.” Shaper’s voice echoed around her. “Did you find the truth you seek?” Twilight grimaced, retracing her steps back towards his chamber. The path of shadows that had led her to Cadance’s lab had vanished, but it was simple enough to navigate via the glowing crystals and craters that dotted the hall. “I found more questions,” she said as she stepped over a deep crack that ran the width of the hall, the sunlight shimmering from it warming her belly. “Who is King Sombra? What did he do to Celestia?” “Sombra is no king!” Shaper hissed with undisguised scorn. “He is a traitor and a coward, undeserving of the title he claims!” “A traitor?” Twilight asked, stepping around a tall crystal shard pulsing a pale blue. She paused, scanning the darkness for another landmark. “Why did he betray you?” “Because he is weak!” Shaper’s bitter anger shook the crystal underhoof and jarred her bones with every syllable. “He fears Our power and hides from his fate like a dog hides from thunder, trapping Us in this crystal prison! But We will escape one day, and We will finish what was started, and the title of king will rightly fall to Us!” Cadance said that Celestia put him in crystal, though. That doesn’t line up. Cadance did not witness the act herself. She could be wrong. Midnight’s brow furrowed as they passed the stairs they’d previously ascended, turning down the long hall that led to Shaper’s chamber. “You call him weak, yet you yourself were defeated by him. Is he truly hiding, or has he simply forgotten you as an enemy long ago vanquished?” The air buzzed with energy as they entered the shattered and tainted throne room. Shaper’s frozen form remained fixed in the center, surrounded by his watching thralls, whose eyes flared and flickered in time with his voice. “He cannot forget Us! He has not defeated Us! In the moment of Our triumph, as We were to fulfill Our purpose, he locked Us in craven crystal, and We have sought to escape him for centuries since!” Twilight frowned, stepping closer to Shaper’s crystalline form. He sounded so angry, both confident in his eventual victory and furious at every second between it and him, and yet his eyes showed nothing but fear. He stood within the crystal with the posture of a pony flinching back, cowed by a terrible threat, but spoke like a king commanding fearful servants. It didn’t match. Midnight gasped. He’s like us. What? Twilight glanced her way. How do you know? “What is your purpose?” Midnight asked, stepping forwards. “Why did he stop you?” “We were created to dominate!” Shaper thundered, the smoke rippling from his eyes. “To conquer! To crush any who opposed Us! To build an empire that the sun would never set on and an army that would span the horizon!” He paused for a moment, the anger in his voice chilling to a quiet bitterness. “That is what he made Us for. And as the power to conquer all came into Our hooves, he feared Us.” Midnight seemed fixated on his eyes. She went closer still, just a breath away from his frozen face. “He created you? Intentionally? He wanted you?” “Yes!” Shaper spat. “Two perfect rivals, two minds pushing each other ever further as they yearn for the same goal. Power through adversity!” “Until you won,” Midnight continued. “And he couldn’t stand the thought of defeat, and froze himself in stasis to rob you of victory.” “As it has been for centuries.” The flickering eyes of the thralls surrounding them dimmed, swathing the room in deep shadow once more. “And will be, until We find the power to break free.” “Wait.” Twilight’s brow furrowed in thought. The thralls turned their eyes on her as one. “You said he made you. You didn’t infect him from outside?” Shaper scoffed. “Of course not. We are King, not thralls to be commanded in battle.” “You were the first.” Twilight blinked in realization. “You’re not a victim of the corruption. You’re the source!” “We are no mere source, but its creator!” Shaper countered. “It was Us that discovered the magic to spread Our essence, to use that essence to control the bodies of weaker minds! We created an army that obeys every order, that grows with every conquest!” “But they don’t obey every order, do they? It’s not so simple.” Twilight furrowed her brow as she turned away, scattered ideas connecting into a greater whole. “The mechanism is clumsy, based on force of will alone. Any wyrd can dominate any other with enough mental fortitude. That’s why I can control the others, because I’m strong.” She paused, looking up to where Midnight watched with an impassive gaze. “Because we’re strong.” Another pause, and then she turned back to Shaper’s crystal coffin, seeing the terrified pony trapped inside in a new light. “But you weren’t strong enough, were you?” Shaper didn’t answer. Twilight clenched her jaw, staring into his unseeing eyes as a new, shaky anger welled in her breast. Midnight would call this pony a monster, in her way. Not a creature to be reasoned with and questioned, but one to be purged, to be snuffed out without mercy. As the pieces came together, Twilight found herself agreeing, but she fought to keep the rage out of her voice as she continued. She was so close to the answer. “You’re not to blame for Equestria’s destruction. There’s something I’m missing.” Shaper let out a bitter laugh. “You are a clever little pony, aren’t you? Ah, what an honor it would be to claim such a victory—but you’re correct. The glory is not Ours.” “You said you’d fought the Princesses twice.” Twilight looked to the images burned in stained glass around the room, narrowing her eyes. “If the second time was just before the floods, and Cadance or I had never heard of you before, the first time must have been long, long ago. She beat you then, wiped you from history. Somehow the corruption found its way to Equestria during my lifetime, without your influence, but Celestia knew you created it.” Her gaze drifted, taking in the deep cracks in the crystal that glowed with warm sunlight, the protrusions of inky black and shimmering blue. “She sent Cadance to find you, and then came to confront you herself.” “A desperate gambit,” Shaper said. “She thought that by defeating Us, Our creation would die.” “But she did defeat you, didn’t she?” Twilight turned back to face Shaper with a vindictive flick of her tail. “Otherwise you’d be free.” “So she did,” Shaper hissed. “Woe unto all that would threaten Celestia’s beloved little ponies, for she is the Unconquered Sun! But We found Our own victory, even in Our fall.” His voice took on a sinister mirth to it as the shadows lengthened, the thralls leaning in from every direction. “For there was a seed of Our essence tainting her divine soul, whispering and biting and straining for control throughout it all. And on the third day of battle, as We lay crippled in a crater that burned with the fury of your sun, she stood over Us and allowed us a chance to surrender.” Twilight’s eyes widened. “She was corrupted too? Before she confronted you?  But then the source of the outbreak—” Shaper laughed again, this time mocking and loud, the sound bouncing back off the surrounding rubble into a cacophonous echo. “Yes! Even in victory, she opened the path to her own defeat. We know not how Our magic infected her, nor how it spread across your precious Equestria! But in her moment of hesitation We reached into her mind and roused the darkness inside her, giving it the strength and purpose she had so diligently kept from its hunger!” Even with his face frozen in crystal, Twilight could hear the scornful sneer in his words. “We watched as Celestia succumbed to that darkness. We watched as she struggled to keep it back!” Twilight’s legs were shaking. She took a deep breath and spat back a response with as much venom as she could muster. “That was your mistake, wasn’t it? You thought you’d be able to control her with her darkness unleashed, but she was too strong. Even with every advantage, you were still no match for her!” The shadows drew back. Shaper’s voice was quiet. Thoughtful. “Pride has always been, perhaps, Our greatest weakness.” He paused, his confession echoing off the surrounding rubble. “Even in the throes of Our darkness, her will was too strong. We commanded her to bend the knee, to bow and recognize a new Equestrian King, but she resisted. She fought back. We could feel even Our own will beginning to wane under her terrible presence.” Twilight waited as seconds ticked by in silence, but he didn’t continue. “And then? What happened?” “You haven’t figured it out yet, clever Equestrian? That’s when she cast the spell that flooded the world. That’s when she shattered the ancient artefacts she used to amplify her power and channeled their escaping magic through herself. Better that her kingdom fall by her own will, than fall to one such as Us.” Twilight’s breath hitched. “Celestia. That’s when she—” “Yes. That is when Celestia ended the world.” An hour after Rarity became a pirate, the racing of her heart had slowed to a tenuous calm. There was an unmistakable tension hanging over the ship. Ponies trotted across the deck in twos and threes, striding with purpose and exchanging quick, pointed words. Lanterns swung from posts spaced evenly about, providing a dim light to work by as they assembled tools and cleaned guns. To the east, the first rays of dawn could be seen creeping up past the horizon. They were hovering low over Leviathan Wakes, drifting with the throttle spun down enough that the slow whooshing of the propeller blades slicing through the air could be heard over the sputtering growl of the engine. They passed an old ship beneath them, and Rarity grunted as she reached out with her magic, tearing the canvas sail from its place and folding it neatly as she floated it up onto the deck and stacked it next to her atop the pile she’d been collecting. The bid to save the city was to take place at dawn, when the deepfish would be shying away from the sunlight and Philomena would hopefully still be inactive, and she had to grab as many sails as she could before then. They’d fly out over the open water soon to give her a chance to soak them, and then it would be time for action. She glanced around her at the rough-faced Wakers making their own preparations. They’d be jumping back down into the floating city to try and cut the huge chains that tied it to the dead leviathan, risking their lives in a far more visceral manner than she could imagine, and yet they seemed so calm. She’d be up here, far from the worst danger, and she felt like she was going to vomit. “Countess?” Rarity jumped, dropping the sail she’d been levitating into a crumpled heap on top of her pile. She turned with a startled titter, spotting the mare that had approached her. “Ah, Miss Jester.” “You can just call me Jester, you know,” she said, sitting and leaning against the railing. She looked over the assembled sails with a thoughtful gaze, working her jaw side to side. “Y’know, you’re alright, for a Gifted.” Rarity frowned as she straightened up her pile. A gust of wind blew past, tugging at her mane. “Presumably I’m to take that as a compliment?” “You can take it how you like,” Jester said. “I’ve dealt with dozens of Gifted in my life. Maybe even a hundred. The best ones drift in and out, pay their tab, and keep to themselves. Most of them expect some kind of special treatment, and think they can stronghoof me into giving it otherwise. Never have I met one that had some genuine interest in helping others.” “You sound like you’re getting to a point,” Rarity said. Jester grinned. “So I am. How do you know Whitehorn?” Rarity paused. She turned fully to face Jester. “He’s a trusted friend. Why?” “Trusted, eh?” Jester arched a brow. “From what I’ve heard—assuming it’s not all just the wishful chatter of boozed up airponies—you were frozen in some ruin until a couple months ago. Is that right?” Rarity pursed her lips. “It is.” “So you’ve only known Whitehorn for a couple months, tops. Is it really that easy to get your trust, Countess? Because if so, I might have an island to sell you.” “What would you know?” Rarity snapped, glaring at the other mare. “Whitehorn is a noble soul who only wants to help ponies! We share the same goals!” “I know more than you’d think,” Jester said conversationally. “I know, for example, that the bounty hunters Gava and Anatami were after your head before you got hitched to that kid in Altalusia.” She paused, her hoof brushing against the brim of her hat as her gaze briefly unfocused, then continued. “But now they seem busy elsewhere. They bombed Friesland while you and Whitehorn were in the city, and Duchess Nettlekiss was blamed for the bombing despite it making no sense for her to do as much. And—” she leaned in, cocking her head “—a thestral was seen in the Duchess’s castle, just a few days before the city surrendered.” Rarity narrowed her eyes. She didn’t trust this mare in the slightest. “How could you possibly know all that?” Jester shrugged. “Airponies talk when I put a drink in their hooves, and they all pass through my bar eventually. Or they did, at least.” She sighed, glancing down into the dark ocean. “And this ship is full of airponies fresh from Altalusia. There are rumors.” “Is that all you have then, darling? Rumors?” “Rumors are a start.” Jester fixed her with a hard stare. “I’ve had my hoof on the pulse of Equestria for over a decade now, and I can tell you this: Whitehorn isn’t to be trusted. He moves through high society like a snake through the weeds, thinking he’s invisible, but he still leaves a trail in the dirt that can be seen if you know where to look. Wherever he goes, fortunes shift. He aligns himself with ponies that further his purpose while disaster befalls those that obstruct it, but nobody pays mind to the unassuming journalist scribbling away in the shadows. It’s just another petty war, they say, another arranged marriage. The world bends around him while he never raises a hoof. He’s trouble, Countess, but of course you’re so close you can’t see it.” Rarity huffed, but didn’t answer right away. Why should she listen to the ramblings of a lawless pirate, who herself openly admitted to caring only for her own interests even when it hurt another? Jester must be trying to manipulate her somehow, to turn her against the kindest pony she’d met in the post-apocalypse to further some cause she couldn’t see. But there was that doubt creeping into her mind. She thought back to the trial where she’d nearly been sentenced to death; the judge had said something about the paper being warm, but Whitehorn had steamrolled past her, ignoring the implied accusation. Even at the time, Rarity had had suspicions, hadn’t she? Why would Nettlekiss bomb her own ally? How would Whitehorn be able to steal such an incriminating letter from two deadly mercenaries like Gava and Ana? Everything had played out exactly how Whitehorn wanted it, the riot, the siege, the unification of the island under his ally, Duke Titus. No, she was jumping at shadows, surely. Whitehorn had been with her since the start, he’d shared his lofty dream of a harmonious Equestria with her, and she’d heard the passion in his voice herself. She shook her head to clear her mind, only then realizing that Jester had been watching her in silence the whole time. “I appreciate your concern, Miss Jester,” she said, meaningfully looking out over the railing and grabbing another sail in her magic. “But I’ll judge the character of my companions myself.” Jester sighed. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Countess. If I were you, I’d look around when the sun comes up and see who’s risking their life, and who’s sitting back in safety.” She walked away, leaving Rarity alone with her thoughts. Her eyes unfocused for a moment as old memories drifted up, but she set her jaw and dismissed them. She needed to focus on the matter at hoof for now. Later, though. She’d confront Whitehorn herself. The chamber was silent for a long time. Twilight sat on her haunches in the middle of the scarred throne room, her gaze unfocused and her lips set into a small frown. The lavender glow of her shield cast a sickly pallor over the ring of thralls that huddled around it, watching. Midnight stood by her side, saying nothing. There was nothing to say. She took a deep breath, running through the facts in her head yet again. She’d done it perhaps a dozen times already, and by now the complex clues and reasoning had melted together into a runny stream of emotion. Denial, anger, and sadness lashed out against a cold web of acceptance drawing itself ever tighter around her heart. Celestia ended the world. It felt right, in the most nauseating way. Like marking off the final answer on a test she’d studied for since she woke up in this cursed future. But now she was standing by her desk in an empty classroom, holding a test with no teacher to grade it. It’s not the final answer. Midnight was leaning against her side, lending the warm, tingling sensation of her ethereal presence. Twilight took a deep breath and closed her eyes, letting Midnight’s words trickle through her. They carried deeper meanings—determination, stubbornness, a mare climbing an endless staircase never knowing when she’d reach the top, but certain that she must reach it. They had followed this mystery to a terrible place, but the road kept going, and it had to be walked, because they were the only ones that could do it. Had anything really changed? After all, the world still needed saving. She opened her eyes and looked up. Her voice didn’t waver when she spoke, and for a moment she wondered if it was even her talking. “How do we fix it?” “Fix it?” Shaper echoed. “Your corruption,” she continued. “There has to be a way to remove it.” Shaper snorted. “Do you think We would reveal such a thing, if it existed?” “That’s the whole reason we came here!” Twilight stomped a hoof against the crystal with a sharp crack. “And we’re not leaving until you tell us!” “Is that supposed to be a threat?” Shaper asked. “We have lingered in this place for centuries alone, Equestrian. How long until your mortal body withers and fades?” He paused to let his words sink in before continuing in a bemused, almost playful tone. “What tribute do you have to offer the King?” Twilight’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” “You desire something from Us, yes? You stomp and shout in Our regal court and demand service, but you are not of Our Crystal Empire.” He let out a haughty chuckle that made Twilight’s nostrils flare. “What do you bring to trade, petitioner?” Twilight pursed her lips, glancing to Midnight. Any ideas? We already know what he desires, don’t we? Midnight gestured with a jerk of her head. Offer to free the petty “king.” That’s a big risk, Midnight. We stand here alone in his sanctum, and he is unable to harm us, Midnight said, casting her glare out over the surrounding thralls. He has tried to invade Equestria twice before, and failed twice before, and if we free him from his crystal shell, it will only be so we can strike a mortal blow and end his nuisance once and for all. Make the offer. Twilight couldn’t help but smirk at her other half’s confidence. She straightened up, looking into Shaper’s frozen eyes. “We can free you, in exchange for your knowledge.” “Free me?” She wasn’t expecting him to answer her with a lon laugh. “Do you know why We summon the crystal ponies to Us, Equestrian?” Twilight looked around, inspecting the thralls slowly swaying in place around her. “I’d assumed they’re soldiers.” “They are soldiers, yes, but something more as well.” As one, the thralls turned their heads to look at Shaper’s crystal form. “Each one carries a seed of Our essence inside them; in your small-minded view you call it corruption.” He spat the word out with a layered mix of bemusement and disgust. “And as that seed feeds on their souls and grows in strength, We may sip from it, nurturing Our own power.  “Each pony provides pitifully little, but We have collected many, and in time, We will have enough strength to shatter this crystal prison, consume Sombra’s mind—as is Our right!—and continue to shape Our Crystal Empire as We have since millenia past. Your offer of freedom is worth precious little to Us, then, as be it another hundred years or a thousand, it is already inevitable.” Twilight’s eyes widened. He’s been feeding off them all this time? And if what he claims is true, then perhaps he is more a threat to Equestria than we thought, Midnight said, glaring at the surrounding thralls. We should kill his servants now. They are mere flesh, and he would be unable to stop us. Twilight pursed her lips. She couldn’t argue with Midnight’s logic; left unchecked, Shaper would inevitably break free, stronger than ever before, and most likely set out to invade an Equestria that was practically already on its knees. The smart thing to do would be to slaughter the dozens of ponies he’d trapped in the Spire and stop the crystal ponies from sending any others down. She singled out one thrall in particular, a mare with a pastel green coat still visible between the black crystal growing in clumps from her body. Her forelegs were wreathed in old bracelets of bone and colorful crystal, trinkets carved lovingly by ponies that thought they were sending her towards a glorious purpose. Her eyes had been replaced by black pits that burned with an arcane fire. Was there anything left of that mare remaining in the husk of her body? She thought of a giant Spike scrabbling against the ancient stone of Canterlot, letting out a thunderous, keening whine as she walked away from him. You’re right. She shook her head, looking away from the damned mare. If it comes to it… we’ll do it. But only as a last resort. We’ll play along for now. I have an idea. “What if I could give you someone powerful? A corrupted host far stronger than all these crystal ponies put together, for you to feed on?” Midnight stiffened, her previously unwavering gaze snapping to the back of Twilight’s head. Shaper let out a deep hum. “The process would not end how you wish it, Equestrian. The seed sinks into the very soul of the host, irreversibly so. Perhaps caught early enough, a pony may walk away whole of mind, but at your stage? It would destroy you as surely as draining every drop of blood.” “That’s not what I’m asking,” Twilight said coldly. “Don’t you ever suggest that again.” Twilight? Midnight’s voice was unusually quiet, and Twilight could feel the conflicting waves of confusion and relief coming from her. Don’t worry, Twilight said, shooting her a reassuring glance. I would never ask for that. A moment later she realized the true gravity of what she’d just said, but she shook her head and brushed it aside. They could discuss it later. “Speak clearly then, Equestrian!” Shaper shot back, raising his tone to match hers. “What tribute can you offer?” “An Equestrian Princess,” Twilight said. “I can bring you Princess Luna. She’s been in a deep sleep since the floods, but her wyrd’s been awake the whole time, hunting and feeding! You could absorb its power into yourself, and once you do that, I’ll help free you. All I ask is that you teach me more about the corruption.” Careful, little flower, Midnight warned. If we feed one monster to another, we may not be able to stop what we create. I’m not afraid of that. Twilight glanced towards her with a small smile. We need to wake up Luna. Whatever comes next, we’ll face it together. After a moment, Midnight returned the smile. Yes. Together. “You think you are clever. That you can use me to your own ends?” He paused, his deep voice rumbling out over the room, then let out a long hum. “We may use each other, then. Bring me the Moon Princess. If We are satisfied with your offering, We will teach you to harness your potential.” He will try to betray us. And we’ll try to betray him. But two minds are better than one. “It’s a deal,” Twilight said, turning away. The thralls parted before her with the scraping of crystal. “I’ll be back. Make sure you’re ready for me.” She walked between the sightless, flickering eyes with purpose, Midnight matching her step for step at her side.