Sunrise
Chapter XIV - Storms (Part 1)
“Are you noticing how the stars look?” Luna’s voice interrupted the night’s silence. “They’re so much sharper than they seemed to be before.”
Celestia quietly studied the velvety black sky a moment longer while the two sisters laid on their backs, side by side on a cloud bank. “Yes,” she agreed, admiring the countless, glittering points of light. “I wonder if it’s because Cloudopolis is so high up.”
“I don’t think it’s just that,” Luna said. “Everything looks sharper, like a fuzziness is gone that I never even realized was there.”
“Pegasi have better eyes than other types of ponies,” a voice said from behind them. “Maybe you got more than just wings.”
Celestia lifted her head and rolled part of the way over to look. Private Pansy stood a short distance away.
“Sorry to disturb you,” Pansy said, looking contrite – although that was, Celestia couldn’t help thinking, how she looked most of the time.
“Not at all.” Celestia propped herself up on her forelegs. “Thank you for the insight. Pardon the phrasing.”
It was a bad joke—terrible, Celestia realized after it was out of her mouth—but Pansy giggled politely all the same.
Luna followed suit, getting up and turning to look at Pansy. “Maybe we did gain more than just the wings. Pegasi have several unique attributes. I also noticed we didn’t have to use cloud-walking magic when we arrived.”
“How about the cold?” Pansy asked. “It’s not very warm up here, at least compared to what I understand unicorns prefer.”
“I–” Celestia thought about it. “You’re right. I hadn’t realized. I can feel that it’s cold, of course, but it hasn’t been bothering me.”
“Pegasus cold tolerance,” Luna said. “I wonder what else we’ll discover we gained.”
“I’m not really sure what to tell you.” Pansy shrugged. “It’s all new to me. You left as unicorns, but came back as… unicorn-pegasi-something? Honestly, I’ve never even heard of anything like this.”
Celestia shook her head. “That makes three of us.”
Pansy fidgeted, digging a hoof into the cloud-fluff they were standing on while silence descended on the conversation. “Umm, anyway.” She looked around stiffly. “I really just came to tell you that Commander Hurricane would like to meet with you both. Tomorrow morning at oh-nine-hundred, in her office. Where you met her before.”
“Yes, alright. That’s fine.” Celestia nodded. “We’ll be there. Thank you, Private Pansy.”
“You’re welcome.” Pansy returned the nod. “I’ll be back in the morning to escort you. Goodnight.” She turned and flew away.
Celestia and Luna sat on the dark cloudbank and stared at each other for a long moment.
“So… how do we explain this?” Luna finally asked, waggling one wing. “What are you going to tell her?”
“What we are going to tell her is…” Celestia began, only to trail off and look blankly back up at the stars glittering in the ebon sky like gems. “…I have no idea.”
☙ ☀ ❧
“Forgive my bringing it up, but you two looked different the last time I saw you,” Commander Hurricane commented from behind the desk in her office. She sat in her armor, staring at the two sisters before her.
“Believe me, we know,” Celestia said in a low voice.
“What happened?” Hurricane asked. “Using small words, please.”
Celestia just shook her head helplessly. “We’re both as clueless as anypony about what magic did this to us, Commander. We destroyed the thaumocontrollers, we disappeared to… somewhere… it’s very hard to explain… and we came back like this.”
“I see.” Hurricane frowned.
“This wasn’t by choice,” Luna said, defensiveness coming through in her gruff voice.
“No, no, I understand that.” Hurricane shook her head.
“I apologize for this unexpected complication,” Celestia said. “I hope it doesn’t impact our plans.”
“Well, from my perspective it doesn’t, because you delivered what you promised.” Hurricane closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “A little warning on what you had planned would have been nice, though. A hint, even. ‘We're going to melt both Thaumocontrollers into slag’ would have worked. That little show at sunset was serious. I presume the two of you are directly in control of the sun and the moon now?”
“Yes, Commander.” Celestia nodded. “They’re being kept safely on course. Please forgive us if we seem tired. Neither of us are trying to be rude, it’s just that Luna was up all night keeping her watch, and I woke before dawn to raise the sun and begin mine.”
“Right, got it.” Hurricane nodded. “You two scare the hailstones out of me, you know that? Aside from melting down centuries worth of unicorn science, you've got a lot more responsibility now. Where are you staying?”
“We rented a hotel room last night when we arrived in your city,” Celestia said. “Fortunately, it occurred to us to withdraw as much cash as we could before we went on our thaumocontroller destroying spree. Even so, the hotel manager was—” She paused, thinking of how to phrase it “—wary, of our horns, and that we only had Quartz City bits, but in the end, she finally decided that gold is gold and the stamp on it isn’t really what’s important.”
“Ha!” Hurricane laughed. “Yeah, she knows what counts.”
Celestia smiled. “It seems so. At least we got to sleep indoors.”
“Good enough for the night, but I’m sure I can find you something better than a hotel room,” Hurricane said, glancing up at the ceiling in thought. “Let’s see. We’ve got enough military housing. Officers get their own units. I can authorize for you to stay in one while you’re here. I’ll also get you a food stipend, so you don’t starve, either.”
“That would be very helpful, Commander,” Celestia said. “Thank you.”
“Least I can do for somepony who delivers on their promises.” Hurricane nodded. “Which brings me to the question of what the next step is. What’s the shape of your plan from here?”
“We intended to wait until we hear from Cardinal Clover again,” Celestia said. “When the three of us decided on destroying the thaumocontrollers, we knew the reaction would be too volatile to fully predict, so it would probably need to be played by ear. Clover stayed behind in Quartz City to do that. She said she would provide further advice about how exactly to continue when the time was right, depending on what the response ends up being.”
“Your plan was to improvise a plan?” Hurricane asked flatly, staring at them in a stern expression of incredulity.
“It’s not great,” Celestia admitted, “but we didn’t have time for great.”
“Isn’t that just classic Clover.” Hurricane facehoofed and groaned. “Well. Do you at least have an ETA on this, uh, ‘further advice’?”
“Clover is supposed to reestablish contact with us within a week,” Celestia said. “If we don’t hear from her sometime in the next seven days, she said to assume she’s in trouble or otherwise unable to help us. At that point, my sister and I will have to come up with something on our own.”
“I will, of course, have my own intelligence services watching Quartz City closely for the effects of all this, in the meantime,” Hurricane said. “I’ll share any relevant discoveries with you, in case that helps.”
“That’s good to know.” Celestia nodded. “Thank you.”
“You know how to use those new wings of yours, by the way?” Hurricane asked, pointing at Celestia and Luna’s feathered sides.
“No, not properly.” Celestia shook her head. “We haven’t exactly had a chance to learn how.”
“Well, if you’re stuck with ‘em, I suggest you do,” Hurricane said. “Maybe it’s a good thing they’re there, anyway. If you’re going to be here with the pegasi, you’re going to be expected to fly. I probably don’t need to point it out, but this isn’t an easy city for the ground-bound to navigate. Go ahead and borrow Private Pansy. Hopefully she can teach you enough to get you airborne and guide you around to anywhere you need to go. I’ll assign her as your assistant for now.”
“Thank you, Commander,” Celestia said.
“So, it’s just hurry up and wait,” Hurricane said. “Is there anything else I should know?”
“No, Commander.” Celestia shook her head. “Nothing I can think of. I’ll be sure to let you know if I do.”
“Alright.” Hurricane nodded. “Have a good day, then.”
“You too, Commander,” Luna replied. The two sisters nodded their farewells and walked side by side out of the office.
☙ ☀ ❧
“Remember the basics,” Private Pansy admonished the two ponies flying behind her. It was both surprising and strangely endearing the way a voice as soft and whispery-gentle as hers could instruct with such sternness. “Just keep flapping, like I showed you. I want to see a nice straight line of flight, over to that cloud bank.”
Celestia looked down for a brief second, and wished she hadn’t. They were in open air above the ground thousands of meters below, with no safety net of clouds beneath them. Individual features familiar from the surface – trees, rocks, ponies – were unrecognizable, replaced with a more abstract macroscopic quilt-work of forests, farms, and hills. Knowing how high she had to be for the world to look so small, all she could think about was how far of a fall it was. Not particularly wanting to think about this, she looked back up and resolved to keep her eyes fixed steadfastly forward instead.
She felt an awful temptation to teleport, or maybe use telekinetic magic to ‘fly’ in the unicorn fashion, but she also knew that cheating would never help her learn. Only forcing herself to really use her wings would get it done. Tiring, yes, but she was proud of herself that it was starting to pay off.
Narrowing her eyes, she focused on flapping, one motion after another in a ceaseless rhythm. Full extension. Downstroke. Begin to partially retract as she reached the end. Upstroke. Extend again. Downstroke. Every flap hoisted her upward with lift, causing the very strange sensation of being yanked up from above with nothing under her hooves, rather than supported from below.
Upon reflection, she realized that this experience fit only too literally into the general sense of how so many events were going for her. The whole theme of her life lately seemed to be leaping out into the unknown, where it was all fly-or-fall.
She steeled herself. There was nothing to do but hope she could keep flying.
☙ ☀ ❧
After a few days of practice, flight was starting to feel more natural. Willpower transitioned into muscle memory and instinct far faster than either of them expected. Celestia found herself conscious of flapping as a whole motion, but not as much as she had been at first of needing to focus an effort on each individual piece of it. Even the sight of the distant ground below held less dread now, the vertigo and dizziness of heights transforming into a sense of exhilaration when she soared.
The three of them reached the clouds they were headed for and came down for a landing, with Pansy descending first followed by the two sisters. Both of them managed a passably soft landing on their own four hooves, which was better than some of their early tries and involved far less cloudstuff crammed into her nose. This one was even good enough to earn them a smile from their instructor.
“See? Easy.” Pansy turned around with a casual flap to look back at them. “After a little practice, there’s nothing to it.”
“I—” Luna huffed to catch her breath “—I don’t know about that, yet. But it is getting easier, at least.”
“You can rest here a bit before we go back,” Pansy said. “Let me know when you’re ready.”
Celestia and Luna paced slowly around the cloud in circles, heads held low while they breathed. Pansy seemed to be having no trouble. Celestia wondered if Pansy just hid it better, but doubted she was being honest with herself if her idea to soothe her inadequacy was by chalking it up to acting. Pansy had been getting around this way all her life; high fitness was almost certainly a given. Feeling so out of shape bothered Celestia a little bit, especially considering that she was out of breath just flying naked and weighed down by nothing, while Pansy was still wearing her armor. Clearly there should be more to a pony’s life than books and scrolls, and she mused upon a sudden regret over not confronting herself about getting her muzzle out from between the pages and going for a run once in a while.
A few minutes passed while the sisters recovered. In the distance, a column of pegasi came into view as they flew up towards one of the cloud platforms in a tight formation. They were all wearing armor and carried spears and shields, with two in the outermost positions on either side bearing long, streaming banners checkered in crimson and lapis lazuli blue.
Celestia stared as the pegasi flew in formation, all flapping synchronously in formation at a steady pace. “Who are they?” she asked.
Pansy looked over at them for a moment. “Looks like one of the battalions from Crimson Legion, coming home from deployment.”
“Oh. I see.” Celestia kept watching the soldiers as they moved in formation through the sky, closing in on a flat field of cloud surface. A small, loose crowd of pegasi, apparently civilians, or at least not in armor, was also starting to converge there, flying in one by one and milling around as they waited for the approaching battalion.
The soldiers flew in and landed, swooping down with perfect coordination one row at a time and forming themselves into ranks standing at attention on the cloud. The crowd kept a distance at first, while the spears were lowered and their points fixed with sheathes, then collected and cased by an armorer. Then the banners were folded and stowed. Finally, an officer standing in front of the formation in a plumed helmet motioned approvingly to another pony standing just in front of the first rank, who Celestia inferred was a sergeant of some kind. The sergeant turned and waved while giving an order to the formed soldiers, and they immediately relaxed and broke ranks. At this signal, the gathered crowd surged in while the individual soldiers walked out to mingle with them.
Celestia, Luna, and Pansy kept watching in silence from their small cloud. For the most part, it looked like happy reunions, with the soldiers of the battalion being greeted eagerly by the ponies seeking them out. A few of them were met by young fillies or colts who climbed up on their backs or hugged them.
Through the chaotic crowd, one in particular caught Celestia’s attention. She saw a soldier, a mare with a pale blue-grey coat, kneel down and smile as bright as the sun while a young filly ran up as fast as her short legs and tiny buzzing wings would carry her. The little filly threw her forelegs around the mare’s neck. The mare closed her eyes, cheeks wet with silent tears of joy, and held the filly tight in a hug that seemed like it would never end.
Celestia felt like her heart was melting, turned by the sight to warm sugar inside her chest, sweeter and more precious by far than the best honey from any bee.
I want that.
The simple thought was sudden and surprising, waking something deep within. A vision of herself in that mare’s place, holding a little filly of her own, flashed through her mind before she could stop it. Longing, primal and powerful, tugged at her, so deep it physically ached beneath her ribs.
She wanted it more than anything. The greatest riches from the hidden depths of the earth, the most arcane knowledge from the oldest libraries, the most powerful secret spells from the tallest mage-spires – everything else paled into insignificance beside this, the yearning for a daughter of her own to just hug tight and love with all her heart. She felt this simple wish so intensely it was almost unbearable. Tears started glazing her eyes.
Long seconds passed. She tried to push it down, willing the image to wither and fade like fruit dying on the vine. It made her uncomfortably self-conscious, even though she knew it was impossible for anypony else to know what she’d been thinking.
She looked away, glancing over at Luna, and noticed her staring at something else.
Off in another part of the cloud field, a different soldier, also a mare, was embracing another mare from the crowd. No. More than just embracing, they locked into a passionate kiss. It went on for a few seconds until they broke, gazed in each other’s eyes briefly, and then kissed again.
“Hmm.” Pansy cleared her throat and chuckled awkwardly. “Well, somepony’s glad her marefriend’s home, isn’t she?”
Luna looked a little shocked. “A mare with a marefriend. And they can be…” She hesitated, mouth moving briefly as if the words were having trouble forming “…open about this?”
“Umm. Sure?” Pansy shrugged. “I guess? I mean, everypony sort of expects to see that kind of stuff at these arrivals. It’s only natural. If you’d been out on patrol living on the dirt in the middle of nowhere for the last six months, you’d want to kiss your special somepony as soon as you got home, too, wouldn’t you?”
“I suppose so,” Luna said vacantly, looking away from the spectacle. She stood in wooden, uncomfortable silence for a few more moments.
“I think— I’m ready to try flying back now, if that’s alright,” she finally said, still not looking at the crowd.
“Yeah.” Pansy nodded, going with the hint. She spread her wings to begin another round of flying lessons. “Yeah, okay. Remember, follow me, and keep building on those basics…”
It was a quiet flight back.
☙ ☀ ❧
“I’m starting to like it here, honestly,” Celestia said, taking a bite of the sugar-glazed carrot she’d just bought from a vendor. “I mean, except for sometimes when pegasi stare at my horn.”
“If a stare now and then is the worst we have to complain about, I’ll take it,” Luna replied, walking alongside Celestia on the clouds.
“And it’s not like you can even blame them, really.” Celestia sighed. “We’re a spectacle. We might as well get used to it. Or try to not be bothered, at least.”
“The thing that really bothers me is how barbaric we were told these ponies are,” Luna continued. “Clearly another lie.”
Celestia pondered this while she chewed. “A lie, or a matter of perspective?”
“Hmmm?” Luna cocked an eyebrow.
“We only ever knew them—didn’t even know them, just knew of them—in a military context,” Celestia continued. “It’s easy to only see the worst of someone, like that. And I’m sure most of the pegasi only knew of us—of unicorns I mean—through the same lens. For all we know, they probably think of us the same way. As unicorn tyrants.”
“That… is a good point.” Luna nodded. “It’s so strange to think about. We’re all just ponies. How did it get like this?”
“I don’t know how it started.” Celestia shook her head. “But I think I know what keeps it this way.”
“What?”
“We let our leaders design our society, our systems, around it,” Celestia said. “And the more it becomes a part of the system, the more we take it for granted that it must be true, because why would it be so systemized if it wasn’t real? It’s such a vicious cycle. No one pony thinks they’re responsible. They all think they’re the victims, even as we all blindly contribute to the problem.”
“We can’t let that happen again,” Luna said.
“No.” Celestia’s gaze hardened. “No, we won’t. Whatever else happens, we won’t.”
☙ ☀ ❧
“This is making me nervous, girls.” Commander Hurricane paced around her office. “Clover’s week is up. What are you gonna do?”
“I don’t know,” Celestia said helplessly.
“Well, somepony’d better know soon,” Hurricane grumbled. “I’m not committing forces without an objective. We haven't had an Operation No Idea yet, and we won't as long as I'm in the comfy chair.”
“I was sure Clover would know,” Celestia said.
“Oh, yes, Clover the ‘they-call-me-clever-not-wise.’” Hurricane muttered sourly, increasing the pace of her pacing.
“If I may say, you seem to have history with her,” Luna noted.
“Yes.” Hurricane stopped pacing for a moment and looked up at Luna. “We worked together on something before. But it’s… a long story. And a long time ago.”
“So what do you think she would do?”
“Something way more clever than I would,” Hurricane grumbled, then returned to pacing. “Probably why I’m not the pony to ask. Anyway, you’ve been working with her, haven’t you? Please tell me something’s rubbed off.”
“Not enough, I’m afraid,” Celestia said.
“Ugh. You’re killing me here!” Hurricane exclaimed. “Give me something. You must at least have ideas in the works. Thoughts. Leanings. A vague notion! Anything!”
“There are certain options that come to mind,” Celestia said reluctantly. “But they’re mostly heavy-hooved and messy. They might also leave room for retaliation.”
“Well, coercion is rarely a clean game,” Hurricane said. “And that’s where you were ultimately going with this, in some form or fashion, right? You might have to just settle for effective if you can’t have elegant. Sometimes those are the breaks.”
“Maybe.” Celestia sank into thought for a few seconds.
“Like it or not, the Commander is right,” Luna said softly to Celestia. “It falls to us. Clover trusted us with this possibility, and we knew something like this might happen. We need to decide something soon, with or without her.”
“I know.” Celestia nodded. “It’s just… a big decision. It feels like a test that doesn’t really have right answers… just…”
“Just answers that are hopefully least-wrong,” Luna finished for her.
Celestia nodded wordlessly.
“Well…” Hurricane began slowly, “If you’re having trouble making a decision…”
“Yes?” Celestia asked.
“Look,” Hurricane finally replied, after pacing a little longer, “I hesitate to mention it, but I think I’d better. Since Clover’s not here, there’s somepony else you might want to talk to instead.”
☙ ☀ ❧
When the sisters arrived where they’d been directed to go, they found a place unlike most of Cloudopolis; instead of being open and airy, it was enclosed and felt hidden away. Nestled down into the opaque lower structure of one of the largest cloud platforms of the city, the entryway extended a short distance into a vertical face of cloudstone before being blocked by the most solid and decidedly impenetrable door they had seen in the entire cloud-filled town.
Celestia approached and knocked on it.
Several seconds passed before she heard the faint sounds of somepony moving from the other side. More seconds passed while this movement grew closer, before the door finally creaked open. A mare with a black coat—or it may have just seemed so because of how dark the hallway was—peered out, head tilted at an angle so she could see through the cracked door.
She said nothing.
“Hello,” Celestia began. “Are you Storm Grey?”
“Why do you come looking for Storm Grey?” the mare asked.
“On the advice of Commander Hurricane,” Celestia replied.
“Oh, Hurricane, Hurricane,” the mare muttered to herself. “Have you finally sent them to me?”
“Were you expecting us?” Celestia asked, suddenly feeling unnerved and like she’d been left out of an important conversation at some point.
“That all depended on many things,” the mare said, “but here we are, so clearly it no longer depends. You’ve come, so come in.” She threw the door open and stood aside.
With the door open further, Celestia and Luna could see that the mare had both wings and a horn. They looked at each other, both a little taken aback.
“Well?” she tapped a hoof impatiently. “Get in! Won’t do any good, just standing here at the door all day.”
Celestia blinked and finally stepped forward. Luna followed. The mare turned and began leading them in, closing the door behind them once they were far enough.
They were led down the short hallway, which turned into stairs winding downward in a spiral. The walls were close and claustrophobic, and hard, made of cloud densely packed and smoothed. It was dark, despite the usual tendency of cloud to let light through, putting Celestia in mind of something more unicorn than pegasus, a wizard’s cloister of water-vapor-turned-granite.
Finally, the stairs ended, opening into a cavern-like space deep inside of what Celestia thought must have been the heart of the enormous cloud.
The chamber was circular, with regularly spaced niches around the perimeter. One such niche had a small bed, clearly a sleeping chamber. Another next to it had a tiny table barely big enough for one, and a chair, making up a sort of dining nook. There were small libraries crammed with bookshelves wall to wall and floor to ceiling, strange work areas filled with stranger devices, and storages for materials Celestia couldn’t readily identify from across the large room in the low light. The clutter extended partway out into the circular central area.
The heart of the room was something else, something Celestia had rarely ever seen, and something usually spoken of only in myths and rumors: there was a great circle on the floor, demarcated around the edges with the guides for a complex sigil of ritual magic that had been drawn on the dark cloudstone in faintly luminous silver ink. In the center of it all, right at the focus, there was a round silver basin a meter wide on a chest-high stand.
“What is all this?” Celestia asked in a hushed voice.
“My home,” Storm Grey said, “and my work.”
“You work in ritual magic?”
“Among other things.” Storm Grey nodded.
“Isn’t that… dangerous?” Luna asked uncertainly.
“Not for those who understand it.” Storm Grey shot Luna a hard glare.
They stared at each other awkwardly for a long moment.
“Anyway,” Celestia interrupted, “I see you, uh—” Celestia flapped her wings “—and you also, umm…” She pointed at her horn. “Are you…?”
“No, I’m not like you.” Storm Grey shook her head.
“Then what are you?”
“A pegacorn. Pegasus and unicorn,” Storm Grey said. “But not an alicorn.”
“What is an… ‘alicorn’?”
“All three. Unicorn, pegasus, earth pony.”
“Is that what we are now?” Celestia asked.
“Of course you are, silly girl!” Storm Grey snarled. “Who else could save all three but one who is all three?”
“One? There are two of us,” Celestia pointed out, gesturing to Luna.
“Details, details!” Storm Grey rolled her eyes. “Details are like water. Each drop so small, until they drown you in their endless numbers if you let them. What matters is that you’re here.”
“Why are we here?” Celestia asked. “Here talking to you, I mean. Hurricane sent us, but—”
“You’re here to find the mountain in your vision,” Storm Grey cut her off.
Celestia stared incredulously in silence for a long moment. “How do you know about that?”
“Yes, how would I know about the visions I sent?” Storm Grey asked with dry sarcasm.
“YOU did that?!” Celestia’s voice rose and her ears flattened. “You started all this? Everything my sister and I have been through?”
“Started it? Yes, I suppose I did,” Storm Grey said thoughtfully. “But not in the way you mean. It’s not all about you, you know. This didn’t start with you. The cracks that broke us apart were laid a long, long time ago. You’re not the ones who started this, just the ones who can finally end it.”
“Who—”
“I did.” Storm Grey stared at Celestia and Luna, and sighed. “I did. When I was young, and filled with ambition that came from mixing the fire of a pegasus with the cunning of a unicorn. I thought I knew everything, then. I thought I was the pony who could do what falls now on you. But I was only two, not three, and all I did was shatter us into three pieces and wound us all with a poison of hate that never let us be whole again.”
She paced, looking pensive and agitated. “Five hundred years ago, and the shame I carry still feels as fresh as yesterday.”
“You can’t possibly be five hundred years old,” Luna scoffed.
“I can with life extension magic. And let me say from experience, five hundred years is a long, long time.”
“There’s no such thing as life extension magic.” Celestia frowned.
“Believe me, knowing what I know now, I realize that there shouldn’t be,” Storm Grey said. “I plan to take the secret to my grave, ironic as that sounds. And I certainly don’t envy you.”
“What does that mean?” Luna inquired, half-closing one eye.
“Now doesn’t that bring us back around to why you’re here?” Storm Grey pondered, half to herself. “So. Enough story time! Let’s get on with it.” She lifted one hoof and pointed to the silver basin in the center of the room.
“What’s in there?” Celestia asked.
“What you need to see,” Storm Grey said.
“Another vision?”
“A future.”
“You can show us the future in there?” Luna asked dubiously.
“A future,” Storm Grey corrected her. “There is no the future.”
“Will it tell us what to do?”
“Only you can tell you what to do.” Storm Grey shrugged.
“Do you ever stop speaking in riddles?” Celestia asked in annoyance.
Storm Grey just stared flatly with eyes half-closed in a scowl and pointed to the basin.
“Fine.” Celestia scowled back, then turned and started marching toward it. “If that’s how it is.”
She passed through the runes and the wards, and entered the inmost heart of the silvery magic circle, standing before the pedestal. Luna followed alongside, joining her. Slowly, anticipation mingling with apprehension, they both leaned forward, eyes passing over the basin’s rim, and gazed into the waters within.