//------------------------------//
// XXXI: Of Resurrections 
// Story: Sunken Horizons 
// by Goldenwing 
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Twilight’s heart pounded in her chest as she navigated the dark halls of the Spire.

She remembered the path to Shaper’s chamber well. Her hooves moved as if on their own, between warm glowing crater and chilling black crystal, ceaselessly drawing her closer to what felt very much like a final confrontation.

Shaper. The source of the corruption that brought Equestria to its knees and led directly to the deaths of millions of innocents. And there she was, trotting straight into his lair while cursed crystal ponies scraped through the shadows and leered after her, bringing him exactly what he needed to break free.

Twilight glanced to her side, where Princess Luna floated in a gently tinkling aura of red-tinted lavender. The alicorn was still curled up tight, chest swelling with every peaceful breath and ugly red tears stained into her cheeks. It was strange to see such a majestic figure, adorned with the regalia of her position, with her nose tucked under her tail like a napping foal. Helpless.

Twilight turned her gaze forwards again and tried not to think about the very distinct possibility that she was about to cause a second apocalypse.

This is not the time for doubts, little flower. Midnight walked close beside her, opposite Luna. The decision is made. Now we act.

But what if we made the wrong decision? Twilight bit her lip as she ducked under a protrusion of sharp black crystal and started up a narrow, winding stairwell.

Midnight snorted. Then we make it with confidence.

Twilight grimaced. The idea of making the wrong decision was nauseating enough on its own, but doubling down on it without even questioning an alternative made her stomach churn. She felt like she was taking a final exam consisting of a single, long, multi-stage question. If she got the first part wrong, then everything that followed would fall apart as well.

We have our plan, Midnight said assuringly. Do not second guess yourself.

Twilight took a deep breath. The oppressive aura of the Spire pushed against her shield and made her horn throb as they walked down the final hallway.

She could hear Shaper’s thralls watching her as she crossed the threshold. They shuffled around in the unnatural darkness, crystal bodies scraping against crystal floor, but she kept her gaze focused forwards, on Shaper’s frozen form occupying the center of the chamber.

“You were not lying.” Shaper sounded intrigued, perhaps even surprised. The thralls began to edge forwards, their dead gemstone eyes focused on Luna like twinkling stars bobbing in the periphery of Twilight’s vision. “We can feel the seed inside her. It is—” he paused for a moment before releasing a deep sigh “—tantalizing.”

“We have done as you requested,” Midnight said, her voice imposing and stern. “Fulfill your end of the bargain.”

“And We are to work Our most valued magic while you clutch your Princess within your shield like a precious foal?” Shaper asked. “Set her down.”

Twilight hesitated, glancing to Midnight. “How can we be sure you won’t try something?”

“You doubt the word of the King?” The shadows flickered and stretched around them, Shaper’s voice rumbling with anger. “Set her down, or there shall be no exchange!”

“We do no such thing while our only guarantee is the promise of a thousand-year-old pretender!” Midnight spat. She glanced at the watching thralls, who were creeping closer with an eerie slowness, leaning intently forwards. “Dismiss your servants! They are no longer necessary.”

“You fear you cannot fend off those mindless thralls?” Shaper mocked. There was a long moment where he said nothing, his voice bouncing off the cavernous crystal walls before fading into a quiet buzz.

What if he says no? Twilight pursed her lips, trying to get a count on the horde of crystal ponies surrounding them, but only the very closest were visible in the darkness.

He will not, Midnight said confidently. A starving dog will do anything for a mouthful of meat.

Did you just refer to Princess Luna as meat?

“Very well!” Shaper snapped. By some imperceptible signal the crystal ponies shuffled into motion, their dozens of hooves scraping against the floor in a deafening cacophony. The seconds dragged on into minutes, Twilight quietly counting the silhouettes gliding past. There were so many, and she was acutely aware that the ones she saw were just a fraction of the total.

She was just passing fifty when the last one stumbled past her. Twilight followed it with her gaze as it stepped over the huge fallen doors and out of the chamber before vanishing into the darkness.

“That should be sufficient.” The annoyance in Shaper’s voice was sharp enough to cut steel. “Now present the Princess to Us! There is no more cause to stall.”

Taking a deep breath, Twilight floated Luna forwards, past the protective glow of her shield, and set her onto the chipped crystal floor.

Immediately the shadows rushed in, appearing to leap off of the ground and split into tendrils of wispy, viscous smoke. They moved with uncanny speed, pouncing onto Luna’s sleeping form and slithering across her body before Twilight could react.

“What are you doing?!” Twilight demanded.

“This is unexpected.” Shaper spoke quietly, an intrigued confusion tinting his voice. “We feel her darkness, but it does not respond to Us. As if it is… asleep.” The dark tendrils dissipated just as quickly, the surrounding shadows going still once more. “Explain where you found this specimen.”

“We found her in the Everfree Forest,” Twilight said. “We think she put herself into a coma to stop the corruption from developing, but it was still active when we found her.”

“We defeated it in combat,” Midnight added triumphantly. “Perhaps it is still wounded from our battle.”

“No,” Shaper said curtly. “It’s not merely diminished, but utterly unresponsive. We cannot feed on this darkness.”

“What? That’s not possible.” Twilight shook her head, brow furrowing. “It nearly killed us! If we hadn’t locked it in—”

Oh.

What?

The reason it feels like it’s asleep to him is because it is asleep. Twilight grimaced, a nervous knot forming in her gut. We never beat it, Midnight. Luna locked herself in a dream where it couldn’t get to her, but then we led it straight into that dream, and it’s been stuck there ever since! She plopped back onto her haunches, mind racing. And for all we know it’s been corrupting her in there all this time, because we let it into the one place Luna did so much to keep it out of! Oh, no! What if I ruined everything?

Then we will fix it. There is no point fussing over a mistake before we’re certain it occurred. Midnight’s calm voice washed over her like a soothing wave. If we led it into Luna’s sanctum, then surely we can lure it back out?

Maybe? I don’t know! For all we know there isn’t even any of Luna left, or it may not be interested in chasing us! And we can’t just go dreamwalking in the middle of Shaper’s territory! He could do anything to us while we’re vulnerable!

He would not jeopardize a prize as precious as this. If he needs us to extract her darkness, then we’ll be safe.

“What is it?” Shaper inquired.

Nodding to herself, Twilight stood and faced him once more. “We think we know how to bring her corruption out for you to access. But we’ll have to enter her dreams to do so.”

Shaper hummed thoughtfully. “If this is a trick, We will ensure you regret it.”

“No trick,” Twilight said firmly.

“And we trust you will not attempt to harm us in our sleep,” Midnight added. “Without us, you will never obtain Luna’s darkness.”

Shaper chortled, the sound making the crystal vibrate under Twilight’s hooves. “Such a wary mind! Fret not, Equestrian. As long as We have need of you, you are safe within Our halls.”

This isn’t exactly how I’d imagined things going, Twilight said, gently pulling Luna back into the protection of her shield and lying down beside her.

You cannot predict all outcomes, little flower. Luckily, you have me. Midnight smirked down at her, then looked to the glowing lavender shield surrounding them. The shield will remain for a time while we sleep. But not long, and we may not be able to wake immediately if the petty king tries something.

Time moves faster in dreams. She rested her head on Luna’s side, listening to the gentle sound of the Princess’s breathing as her chest rose and fell. And fights with fearsome monsters are usually over pretty quick anyway.

All fights are over quickly when we are involved.

Twilight couldn’t help but smile at her other half’s confidence as she closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. She held it for five seconds, pushing the many concerns of the waking world aside before slowly exhaling.

Like last time, when Luna’s wyrd had pulled her unawares into the realm of dreams, the transition was barely perceptible. It was like watching the clouds shift as she floated down a gentle stream, the water tickling at her ears and tugging on her mane. If she wasn’t paying attention she might miss the moment where the current pulled her from one path onto another. But with the right training, she could feel the sensation of sinking into slumber, and even influence where the undertow took her.

An icy gust blasted across her muzzle. Blinking her eyes open in shock, she found herself surrounded by a thick sheet of whirling white.

The snow crunched against her hooves as she stood, the howling gale buffeting her, first one way, then another. She could see barely a few steps in front of her. The cold pierced her coat and wormed its way into her bones. She turned a circle in search of guidance and spotted Midnight crouched warily beside her, her lips pulled back into an irritated snarl.

“This is not like last time!” she hissed, tail flicking behind her.

“Dreams usually aren’t!” Twilight shouted over the wind as she trudged forward, squinting against the flurry.

“Where are you going?” Midnight called, slogging after her.

“Wherever my hooves take me!”

The wind shifted, nearly knocking Twilight off balance, and with a huff of annoyance she summoned a weather circle around her, a faint lavender sparkle that was discernible only because of the way the wind and snow parted and weaved around it.

“Why didn’t you start with that?” Midnight grumbled beside her.

Twilight ignored the comment, scanning side to side as they walked. What little she could see of the landscape was plain and rocky, a thick blanket of snow draped around scattered stones with only the naked trunks of dead trees to break the monotony. Where was this place? Where was Luna’s wyrd? And where was Luna herself?

“Look. Up ahead.”

An indistinct shadow took shape before them. At first it almost appeared to be the silhouette of a pony, with a bobbing horn and muzzle just discernible at one end, but she couldn’t make out a body or legs. The snow seemed to twinkle around it, little motes swirling and dancing as they followed the shape. Then the shadow shifted, and Twilight realized it wasn’t a pony—it was two ponies, one much smaller than the other.

Twilight quickened her pace, the freezing air searing her lungs. She guessed she was about ten paces away from the strange ponies when the wind suddenly stilled for a brief moment, the whirling snow drifts fluttering down to the earth, and she found herself looking into the curious blue gaze of Princess Luna.

She stumbled to a stop, opening her mouth to call out some hasty greeting, only to realize that it wasn’t the Princess Luna she knew. This Luna was small, about the size of one of the Cutie Mark Crusaders, and instead of an ethereal mane of stars there were plain locks of pale blue framing her foalish face. Even her cutie mark was absent, with only a smattering of black fur on her rear in its place.

Next to the filly princess walked a young Princess Celestia. Again, the flowing mane which Twilight had always associated with alicornhood was gone, now a common pink that matched her eyes. Without her cutie mark, her white coat almost vanished into the snow, and though she was nearly as tall as Twilight, her thin legs and slender body hinted at an adolescent youth.

Both sisters were still alicorns, their wings tucked tightly against their sides, but this was such a far cry from how Twilight had ever seen them that she wondered if this was some trick. Had Luna’s wyrd somehow taken control without her noticing? Was it trying to confuse her or distract her while it prepared to strike?

Luna had come to a stop, staring silently into Twilight’s wide eyes as Celestia kept walking. After a couple seconds, the older sister looked back. “Luna? What’s wrong?”

Luna blinked, looking away and bounding clumsily through the snow to catch up with her sister. “Just looking at the stars.”

The wind resumed its pitched howl, lifting the snowdrifts and scattering them into turbulent eddies, and the sisters were reduced to silhouettes once more.

They had spoken quietly, yet their voices rang clearly in Twilight’s mind, as if they were her own thoughts. She was struck by how different they sounded; Celestia’s voice was just as musical as ever, but lacked the deep layers of wisdom and gentle motherly guidance. Luna spoke softly but easily, without the shade of regret that had always lingered in her tone whenever Twilight talked to her.

“This must be a memory,” Midnight said. “Can we rouse her? Perhaps she can aid us.”

Twilight shook herself, starting after them at a quick trot. “We can try.”

A memory! A memory of when the sisters were foals, over a thousand years ago by the time Twilight had been born. There was so much she could learn! About Equestria, about alicorns, about history!

No, she needed to focus on the goal: Wake up Luna, find the Wyrd, and lure it out. She could ask the Princess all about her past afterwards if need be.

“Princess!” Twilight shouted. Was she even a Princess yet? The hazy shapes of the sisters stopped and stiffened as the wind grew stronger. “Luna!”

As she drew close enough to see them clearly through the snow, Twilight skidded to a stop. The sisters were facing her with cautious expressions, their perked ears swiveling alertly. Celestia stepped forwards, standing protectively in front of Luna.

Twilight beamed at the older alicorn, joy swelling in her breast. It felt like it’d been an eternity since she’d seen her mentor in person, and even though this younger, remembered form was so very different from the Sun Princess she knew, it still felt like a reunion.

Celestia looked her over with a slight furrow to her brow, her ears pointed forwards attentively. Slowly Twilight’s grin faltered as she realized that her mentor didn’t recognize her. But then, Celestia wasn’t really here, was she?

Luna’s small, round face poked out from behind Celestia’s legs. She looked up at Twilight with the same innocent curiosity as before, saying nothing.

“I—” What should she say? Luna clearly wasn’t lucid. “W-where are you going?”

Luna looked up to Celestia, who pursed her lips and answered in a clear, but wary voice. “We are only passing through.”

Midnight caught up, standing at Twilight’s side. She looked at Twilight expectantly, silently bidding her to take the lead.

Twilight frowned. She knew this wasn’t the real Celestia, but the distrust in her eyes hurt just the same. She took a tentative step forwards, forcing a friendly smile. “Can we travel with you?”

Celestia narrowed her eyes. Her wings hovered off her sides, twitching anxiously. “It is best that you stay back!”

Twilight winced. Dream or not, the cutting tone hurt her as if it were real.

“We won’t hurt you!” she  tried, raising her voice to be heard over the howling wind. A thick flurry blew between them, and she lifted a hoof to shield her eyes. “We’re friends!”

Celestia shook her head. “We will not disturb you.” She glanced down to Luna, guiding her gently back. “Come, sister.”

Twilight watched in dismay as Celestia turned away, walking deeper into the blizzard. Luna lingered only a moment longer, staring into Twilight’s eyes, then followed her.

“Wait!” Twilight reached out with a hoof, but the snow had already turned the alicorns to hazy silhouettes, and they showed no sign of stopping. She looked at Midnight, who arched her brow flippantly.

“Shouldn’t we chase them?”

A sudden burst of wind interrupted Twilight’s response. She cried out as she was knocked to the ground, the snow dancing frantically around her.

A shadow passed overhead.

A huge, white-furred paw dug into the snow by Twilight’s head. She yelped, ducking her head under her forehooves protectively as three more giant paws kicked up snow around her, and cautiously raised her head.

A great white wolf the size of a train car bounded across the snow, its lips drawn back in a snarl that revealed wickedly sharp fangs. It bolted after the alicorn sisters with a vicious bark, almost disappearing among the white flurries as the wind built up into a deafening shriek.

“Oh, no!” Twilight climbed to her hooves, running after the wolf with horn aglow. Was it the Wyrd? She hadn’t seen any signs of corruption, but she’d gotten only a brief glimpse of it. “Luna!”

Again the wind struck her, tossing her sideways into the snow with a frustrated grunt. She struggled to a sitting position, squinting through the blizzard to make out the hazy shapes of the wolf and the Princesses.

She saw it pounce. The smaller shadow of the sisters was swallowed whole by the wolf’s imposing bulk, but she heard no scream. Flashes of bright light bloomed like firecrackers, outlining the wolf rearing up and the sisters crouched side-by-side beneath it, and then went dark.

Twilight squinted into the snow with bated breath. The shadows had stopped moving. She stood cautiously, lifting a hoof to move closer.

Without warning the temperature plummeted. Though the blizzard had been freezing cold before, Twilight felt as if she could feel the last dregs of warmth physically dragged from her bones. She fell forwards, gasping for breath as darkness began to rush in all around her, stars popping and twinkling at the edges of her vision. She felt a terrible pressure in her breast, followed by a thousand tiny needles prickling at her coat, and she wasn’t sure if the screaming in her ears was the wind or her own voice raised in pain.

It stopped as suddenly as it started. Twilight pulled her face out of the snow and shook her head, chest heaving. She looked to Midnight, who was lying on her side clutching at her chest with bloodshot eyes stretched wide in shock.

“You felt that too?”

Midnight nodded shakily. “Such power.”

Twilight struggled to her hooves before reaching one out to Midnight. The other mare considered the offer for a moment before accepting, allowing herself to be pulled up.

The wind had died down to a steady but tolerable breeze, pulling Twilight’s mane to the side as she looked ahead again. She could see the wolf clearly, lying on its back with its legs spasming weakly above it. Its jaw was stretched wide in a pained grimace, revealing long, curved fangs that shone like polished metal, its eyes sunken deep into its skull. It wheezed, its chest trembling with quick, tiny breaths, then went still.

Celestia had fallen on her side, breathing hard but uninjured. And standing between them was the small, filly Luna, her eyes radiating a pale white light.

Twilight blinked, looking between the little filly and the huge wolf. “Did she…?”

Luna’s head snapped sideways, her arcane gaze glaring straight into Twilight’s soul. She staggered backwards, struck by a sudden wave of hatred so pure it felt as if she’d been stabbed in the heart.

You weren’t supposed to see this.

It felt like her own thought, but was unmistakably foreign. A shudder of fear trilled down Twilight’s spine as she fell backwards, but this time the ground didn’t catch her.

Instead, she kept falling, her stomach lurching and hooves flailing as a thick sheet of snow flurried around her. She screamed, her horn sparking to life as she sent out a frantic series of pings, but none of them came back. She tried to bend the dream to give herself wings, but it didn’t respond, and when she looked around in search of Midnight all she saw was the same all-encompassing curtain of fluttering white.

Finally the snow dissipated and the roaring wind went silent, and Twilight gasped as she realized the true scale of Luna’s dreamscape.

She was falling through an astronomical abyss of incomprehensible proportions, a trillion pinpricks of starlight shifting like the dancers of some cosmic choreography in the infinite distance. Scattered across the abyss were—the first term that came to mind was islands, but it seemed somehow inadequate—pockets of existence where the infinity bled and twisted into a more recognizable reality, depicting a thousand different scenes. She saw the Castle of the Two Sisters in the midst of a great conflagration, with snarling smoke clouds boiling from its towers and turning to starlight. A tree taller than the universe sprouting from a tiny seed, its branches falling and shattering. A pond reflecting the moonlight as a bearded stallion reclined in the grass, eyeing her with a warm smile. Mountains melting and sublimating into vapor under a blistering heat. Silver armor stained red with fresh blood as helmeted stallions marched within its reflective surface. She’d turn her head from one scene to another and be filled with waves of emotion she couldn’t explain, images of bliss and suffering flashing across her sight.

She squeezed her eyes shut tight, overwhelmed by it all, but one scene lingered even still. A small island surrounded by calm waters, and Princess Luna reclined on a cushion under a softly glowing flower. Twisting her head to focus on it, Twilight hesitantly opened her eyes.

It was the same island that she’d seen the Princess sleeping on when she’d first entered her dream. The still water surrounding it turned to stars around the edge, drifting across the dreamscape in lazy arcs. And hovering over the island she saw Luna’s Wyrd, its blood wings spread wide and its ragged coat drooling blood from a thousand wounds.

The Wyrd lunged, and a pony-shaped cluster of stars leapt back, dodging the pounce—the Guardian that had stopped the Wyrd after Twilight led it into Luna’s sanctum. The Guardian tossed its head with an eerie silence, a beam of starlight zipping across the abyss aimed straight for the Wyrd’s breast. The Wyrd dashed sideways with an angry hiss, and as the beam seared past it cut a wound into the infinite fabric of the dreamscape, a fresh reality bleeding out and taking shape.

Wind pulling at Twilight’s mane tore her attention away. She looked up and cried out in alarm when she saw a maze of rocky canyons hurtling towards her at breakneck speed. Her horn burst into light as she cast a quick featherfall, but even with the spell slowing her descent she smacked into the edge of a plateau with enough force to drive the breath from her lungs.

She yelped, bouncing from one side of a narrow canyon to the other, slapping face-first into a cliff face, and awkwardly floating down to the rocky earth. She fell onto her back, chest heaving and mind racing, feeling very much as if she’d just run a marathon across dimensions.

With a groan of pain she looked to the side and saw Midnight standing over her with a pensive frown.

“Did you see that?”

“Yes. All of it.”

“I don’t understand.” Twilight grimaced, climbing back to her hooves and shaking dirt and pebbles from her coat. She was breathing hard, after-images of the starry abyss flashing at the edges of her vision. She looked up, spotting a sliver of night sky between the canyon lips where she’d fallen through, but all she saw beyond it were twinkling stars. “That was Luna. But it wasn’t.”

“And she saw us,” Midnight said, scanning up and down the dark crevasse. “Yet we are not welcome. Did she not recognize us?”

“I—I don’t know.” Twilight shook her head, trying to dislodge the strange scenes. She felt sunlight on her back and heard a colt’s laughter, and tasted fresh blood pumping across her fangs. “It shouldn’t be possible for her to be in two places at once, even in a dream! Dreams don’t exist when the dreamer isn’t there to see them, but—look at this!” She gestured at the cliff faces in amazement. She could focus on each individual rock and pick out patterns in the stone. “So much detail!”

“She is the Princess of Dreams, is she not? She may not have the same limits as a mortal.” Midnight frowned, stepping closer and resting a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. “Are you well?”

“But how? Why? The last time we were here everything made sense! It was one dream, with her in the middle. Now it’s like—it’s like she’s having a thousand different dreams all at once!” The smell of moondust drifted across her nostrils. What did moondust smell like? “Ugh. Are you feeling these, too?”

Midnight shrugged. “I feel everything you do. Do you need to stop?”

“No! No, I think it’s only temporary.” She took a deep breath as the surreal sensations faded, replaced by the scent of sand and the chittering of insects carried on the gentle wind that weaved through the canyon. “We should keep moving. We need to find a way to get to the center of this—” she paused, again at a loss for words “—place.”

She pushed herself into motion, simultaneously watching herself walk away through Midnight’s concerned eyes.

“Can we not cross?” Midnight asked, following after her. “We know where we need to go.”

Twilight shook her head. “The dream isn’t answering me. I tried giving myself wings when I was falling, but it didn’t work. None of my techniques are working like they should, and Luna never taught me about anything like this! I’ve heard of recursive dreaming before, but this is something else. Not dreams within dreams, but dreams beside dreams. Parallel dreaming?” She pursed her lips, her voice trailing off to a thoughtful mutter.

“And the solution is to walk aimlessly until we end up where we want? This is an exceptionally poor plan, even for you.”

Twilight smirked, playfully flicking Midnight’s nose with her tail. “It works in dreams. Usually.”

They walked in silence for a time, weaving between the rocks and peering into the darkness ahead. Was this the Ghastly Gorge? Some distant Badlands canyon? Dry, dead trees hunched over them with a menacing air, their branches curling down like claws that flexed and rattled in the wind. Sometimes she would turn and her heart would skip a beat when she saw a face, only to realize it was a pattern in the rock, the illusion disappearing as soon as she took another step. If Twilight stopped and spent too long squinting in one direction then stars twinkled at the edges of her vision.

A dim, circular light appeared in the distance, followed shortly by five more. They bobbed and shifted as they moved from left to right, then disappeared around a corner where two paths in the canyon intersected.

“Over there!” Twilight sped into a trot, her and Midnight’s hoofsteps echoing behind her.

They stopped as they reached the corner, peeking around. A party of several ponies were navigating the canyon in a dispersed but strict formation, lanterns hanging from their belts casting a pale silvery light into the night. At first Twilight thought they were Royal Guards, but after a moment more details jumped out at her. Their armor had more coverage than the guards she knew, with long metal greaves protecting their legs, helmets crowned with sharp steel horns, and muzzles encased in hooked metal beaks. They scanned the canyon through narrow slits in a curtain of chainmail that hung to their shoulders, guarding their throats and giving them the appearance of faceless, beaked griffons.

Rather than the polished gold of the Royal Guards from Twilight’s time, these ponies wore armor of gleaming steel. Complex runes were engraved into the metal with intricate patterns of silver inlay. Small diamonds were set into the runes, glittering like constellations as the lantern light hit them. Some of the ponies carried barbed pikes against their shoulders, the hilts decorated with the same diamond-and-silver runes as their armor. Others pulled heavy arbalests on sleds behind them, with bolts the size of a pony strapped to their sides.

At the head of the group stood Princess Luna, wearing a far less encumbering but similarly decorated set of armor. Her face and neck were unprotected, allowing her ethereal mane of starry firmament to billow out behind her. Though she was no longer the size of a young filly, she was still smaller than the Luna Twilight knew, standing only a few inches taller than her guards.

Midnight hummed, speaking in a thoughtful whisper. “They are hunting something.”

“How can you know?” Twilight asked, watching as the group came to a stop. Luna’s horn glowed, her eyes squinting into the darkness.

“I know what a predator looks like,” Midnight said. “That mare is not prey.”

Twilight pursed her lips. “We should be careful.”

Princess Luna stopped abruptly, her wings flaring out and revealing the silvery blades strapped to their sides. Immediately her entourage spread out, setting their lanterns down ahead of her and forming into a pair of measured lines with the ease of obvious practice. The first line rolled their shoulders, stabbing the sharp butts of their pikes into the ground and leveling their long, sharp heads on the darkness ahead. The ponies of the second line shrugged their yokes from their shoulders and turned their arbalests to face forwards, rushing to load the huge bolts into the massive weapons.

Twilight watched with bated breath, looking anxiously from the guards, to Luna’s stern expression, to the dark canyon. The silver lantern light framed long, eerie shadows that danced across the rocky walls as the arbalest gunners spun heavy winches attached to their weapons with both forehooves, tightening the powerful springs.

Luna’s horn glowed. A lantern floated off the ground wrapped in the blue of her magic and flew forwards, hitting the ground with the loud crack of breaking glass. Rather than go out, the silver light inside drifted upwards in a stream of tiny glowing motes, the wind carrying it deeper into the canyon.

The earth under the shattered lantern erupted with a tremendous, ear-splitting roar. Boulders the size of a wagon flew through the air like pebbles, bouncing off the walls and cracking into a dozen pieces. An impenetrable cloud of dust was thrown up by the explosion, swirling and twisting around some huge mass within. Twilight caught brief glimpses of pitch-black limbs and twinkling stars as the ground shuddered underhoof, the vibration of crumbling stone and sound of grinding rock combining into a single, heart-stopping sensation that made her teeth chatter and her bones ache.

When Twilight looked to Luna, the alicorn was nowhere to be seen. The guards in the front row adjusted their stances, and the runes engraving the long hafts of their pikes began to glow and hum.

Gradually the dust began to settle, and Twilight found herself squinting in confusion at the thing within. At first it looked like a curtain of stars stretching across the canyon from wall to wall, but she couldn’t see anything behind it. Where there should’ve been more craggy rock and winding walls there was only impenetrable blackness.

The stars shifted, and Twilight gasped as the wall rushed forwards. It lurched and skittered, the movement allowing her to pick out the shape of six stomping legs. A pair of thick claws emerged from the mass as it reared up and unleashed a furious hiss, a pointed stinger bobbing and twitching at the end of a bulbous tail behind it.

The silver-armored ponies roared back, angling their pikes towards the monster as it fell onto them. There was an ear-splitting crack, and for a split second the entire canyon was illuminated with pale silver light. Twilight could clearly see the shape of the beast outlined by the harsh shadows wrapped around it, its body writhing and twisting in fury; a massive scorpion, its arching tail reaching all the way to the craggy lip of the canyon and its vantablack carapace absorbing all light but for the star-like pinpricks of white dotting the surface.

The moment was gone as quick as it came. The scorpion flinched away from the clash, and the deep shadows of night rushed in to fill the canyon once more.

“That’s a scorpius malus!” Twilight whispered, eyes widening in recognition. She’d done some reading after her confrontation with the ursa minor in Ponyville, fascinated by the creature’s astral biology. “They were wiped out centuries ago, even before Nightmare Moon!”

“Then this is another vision of the past,” Midnight said. “These aren’t just dreams. They’re memories.”

The twang of thick cords bounced off the canyon walls as two of the arbalesters fired, launching a pair of huge bolts into the scorpius’s bulk. One ricocheted away, but the other punched through its carapace, the impact accompanied by another flash of bright silver light.

Behind the scorpius, revealed by the light, descended Princess Luna.

She landed on the monster’s back with her wings flared, a ring of weapons orbiting her like murderous silver moons glowing with her magic. She pierced the creature’s thick shell with a pair of broad-headed spears, drawing an anguished shriek from its maw. It whirled, swinging with one heavy claw and lunging with its tail as she leapt off its back, throwing a trio of spinning axes a rapid one-two-three beat, each of the heavy ax heads streaking through the night like comets before smacking home with the sound of cracking glass.

Turning to confront Luna, the scorpius exposed its back to the double line of her escorts. The two remaining arbalests fired, each one striking squarely and burying deep into the monster’s flanks. It howled, stumbling to one side and smacking into a canyon wall. The earth shuddered as stones rained from above, bouncing off steel armor and starry carapace alike.

“The books I read never explained what happened to the scorpius,” Twilight said, watching the fight in awe. “Nopony ever knew. They just disappeared, along with so many other deadly creatures.”

“Your Equestrian scholars are naive foals,” Midnight scoffed. “Monsters do not disappear. They are slain.”

Princess Luna and her soldiers worked in perfect synchrony. Whenever the scorpius rounded on the tight formation of armored escorts, Luna would coalesce from the shadows behind it, burying her weapons into its astral flesh. As it turned to defend itself from her, the soldiers would harass it with their pikes and bolts, drawing its attention again, and the cycle would repeat. 

Despite its fury, the scorpius was helpless. Gradually its movements slowed and its screeches weakened. Its sleek, nearly invisible carapace took on the appearance of a porcupine as spears, swords, axes, and bolts stuck through its shell. Luna lashed out with a long scythe, carving its limbs away one by one—first its tail, then a minute later, a leg—until finally it collapsed onto its side, wheezing and growling ineffectively.

Luna landed gracefully next to the monster’s head, her hooves alighting in its viscous, sparkling black blood. It hissed as she lifted her scythe, the only weapon still remaining in her magic from the dozens she’d started with, and stabbed it into the side of its head.

The scorpius spasmed, every limb twitching for several seconds, then fell still.

“But that doesn’t make any sense.” Twilight’s brow furrowed in thought. “Did Luna kill every monster in Equestria? That’s absurd! And why wouldn’t it be in books? She would’ve been a hero!”

The silver-armored soldiers straightened stiffly out of their combat stances, exchanging glances through their armored faces. They fell out of their formation, pulling out axes and knives as they began climbing over the scorpius corpse.

“Would she?” Twilight looked to her side, meeting Midnight’s thoughtful gaze. “Would you think she’s a hero? For killing monsters?”

Twilight’s eyes widened. “Midnight—”

She was interrupted by a sudden pain stabbing at the base of her horn. Twilight cried out, collapsing onto her side as all the heat was sucked from her body at terrifying speed. She looked up, teeth chattering, and saw Princess Luna standing over her with a hateful glare, scythe raised and dripping starry blood from its curved tip.

Twilight raised a shivering hoof. “Luna, wait!”

The scythe arced down, filling her vision with the silver light reflecting off its blade.

Twilight flinched as a rumbling boom filled her ears and a wave of prickly heat washed over her coat. She gasped, opening her eyes and blinking up at a clear blue sky. Luna was nowhere to be seen, but she could hear ponies screaming, shattering glass, and pounding hooves.

She climbed back to her hooves as she looked around. Ponies ran in every direction around her, chased by packs of grinning changelings. One mare shrieked as she was tackled from behind and dragged down, immediately swarmed by a dozen chittering changelings that dragged her away screaming. Fires blazed all over the marbled streets, engulfing storefronts and hugging the city’s gold-banded towers, casting long, dancing shadows across the pitted cobbles.

“Canterlot.” Midnight appeared beside her, scanning the chaotic scene around them. “This is the day it fell.”

“The changeling attack.” Twilight nodded, recovering from the abrupt transition as she took in her surroundings. “But I don’t remember Luna being at the wedding.” She frowned, trying to find the Princess’s distinctive blue coat.

“She must be close. You said aimless walking works, yes?” Midnight broke into a brisk trot without waiting for an answer, slipping around a pair of royal guards locked in combat with half a dozen drones.

“Wh—hey! Wait!” Twilight ran after her, mind racing and chest heaving. Had Princess Luna been in Canterlot during the attack? Why hadn’t Twilight seen her? Was there a chance that Twilight might see another of herself, as Luna remembered her? Her recollection of the wedding was still hazy; she remembered Chrysalis revealing herself and defeating Celestia, and a frantic run for the Elements, but after that it was just violence and noise. 

Twilight’s heart wrenched as she dodged between panicked ponies and snarling changelings, jumped over limp bodies, and ran through billowing clouds of angry black smoke. Were these real memories of real ponies that had died just out of sight of her centuries ago, or just imagined scenes created by Luna’s mind to fill in what she hadn’t personally witnessed? It felt so terribly real, and everywhere she looked she saw visions of the future, of dead streets cluttered with bones and crumbling bricks.

All these ponies were going to die—had died. Even the ones that escaped today would be dead within months, lost in the floods, all because she hadn’t been there for them. The screams around her mixed with the ones from her memories, each one like a spear driven into her breast. And the fact that she was letting herself be distracted like this, right now, when Luna needed her more than ever, only made her hate herself even more.

A tingling warmth pressed against her side, pulling her from her reverie. Glancing over, she saw Midnight leaning into her, her slitted eyes focused ahead.

Twilight cringed in shame as she realized her other half had noticed her weakness. “S-sorry,” she muttered. “I just—”

“We’re together,” Midnight said, cutting her off. Her voice was firm and level. Unaccusing.

Twilight flinched, having expected some cutting remark about her episode, only to blink in confusion when it never came. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Look, ahead.”

Twilight blinked the wetness from her eyes, bringing the street back into focus. She gasped as she spotted Princess Celestia, her pristine white coat stained with blood and smoke but her posture as regal as always. The Princess lit her horn, brilliant sunlight flooding the street around her and sending changelings stumbling back with angry hisses. Royal guards galloped forth, driving their spears into the stunned changelings and then dragging shocked civilians back inside a formation gathered protectively behind Princess Celestia.

The Princess pointed forwards, her voice cutting through the mayhem as clear as day. “Keep going, my little ponies! Don’t stop!”

She led the way, her glowing horn leaving a trail of dazed changelings behind for the guards to finish off as wide-eyed civilians followed close behind. At the rear of the procession, Princess Luna ran into view, her lips set in a stern frown.

A group of changelings surged from an alley, trying to grab at some of the ponies in the formation. Luna snarled, a sparkling white star zipping from her horn. It pierced the closest changeling’s chest like an arrow before emerging from its back, arcing through each of the invaders in quick succession and then returning to the tip of her horn. The changelings fell into fresh puddles of green ichor, twitching.

“Luna!” Twilight shouted, but the Princess didn’t hear her call. Instead she ran after the group of fleeing civilians, striking down any changelings that tried to attack.

Midnight was already quickening into a gallop. Twilight put on speed as they reached an intersection, rounding the edge of a smoking corner store, and—

A wave of nausea swelled in Twilight’s gut. She grunted, squeezing her eyes shut as the world spun around her, and when she opened them, she found herself standing in a wide room of smooth wooden walls and broken floor-to-ceiling windows. She blinked, looking around at the tables and chairs piled haphazardly in the corners. She could see the streets of Canterlot through the windows—she was on the second floor—with royal guards on alert just outside while civilians milled anxiously inside their perimeter. Plumes of smoke billowed through the sky, barely a block away.

“We are trapped, sister.”

Twilight jumped at the sound of Princess Luna’s muffled voice coming from downstairs.

“The changelings have herded us like cattle and hold watch on every approach,” she continued. She spoke firmly, her tone urgent. “Our only hope is to clear the path to the train station!”

“Many of our ponies will die if we do that, Luna,” Celestia answered. Calm, but with a clear note of exhaustion. “We can’t protect them if we go on the offensive.”

Spotting the stairs, Twilight began to creep across the room, placing each hoof carefully. She didn’t know if Luna would be able to hear her or not, but so far every time the Princess had spotted her it had led to another disorienting transition between dreams, and this was a conversation that Twilight was determined not to miss.

“Thou intendest to protect them whilst backed against the mountain till the changelings grow bored, then?” Luna countered. “Ponies will die. If we remain here, they shall all die.”

“There must be a way,” Celestia said hoarsely. “I can’t order a refugee train to attack, Luna. Even if we make it through, we would lose so many.”

Luna let out an audible sigh. Twilight’s ear twitched at the scraping of shoes against wood. “There is no other path, sister,” she said quietly. “The wicked queen hath outmaneuvered us. If we cannot pay the toll now, it shall only grow worse.”

Midnight appeared at Twilight’s side as she reached the top of the stairs. She paused, exchanging a glance with her darker half, and then started down the steps. The stairwell was built into the wall, meaning she wouldn’t be able to see the lower floor until she was halfway down.

“I wish we didn’t have to pay any toll.” Celestia’s voice was so soft that Twilight had to stop and strain to make out her words. “I feel the loss of every single pony. Twilight tried to warn me, but I didn’t listen. Now all this… it’s my fault.” Celestia’s words made Twilight’s heart ache. “If I could give myself up to fix this, I would.”

“We both know the folly of such a fantasy,” Luna said consolingly. “Thou knowest I hate it, too, but it must be done. And if we do not escape, there shall be nopony to return to rescue Twilight and her friends.”

Both Princesses fell silent as the sound of the door opening interrupted them. Armored hooves clicked against the floor, followed by a new speaker.

“Princesses.” Shining Armor’s strained voice nearly sent Twilight to her knees. “Some of the scouts came back. I don’t know how much longer we’ll be able to hold here.” He hesitated before asking, “What are your orders?”

“No orders yet, Captain,” Celestia said. Unlike the uncertainty from mere seconds before, now she spoke with calm confidence, all signs of exhaustion or doubt gone from her voice. “Allow my sister and me to consult a moment longer.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Shining Armor stomped a quick salute, then trotted away. The door squealed on its hinges, the anxious chatter from outside briefly leaking through before it shut.

“Thy lies serve thee well,” Luna said. “But they will not stop a changeling army.”

Forcing herself back into motion, Twilight crept further down the stairs to the landing. She poked one eye around the corner, spotting Celestia. Luna was standing out of sight.

Now that she was alone with her sister again, Celestia had dropped the facade of certainty. Her eyes darted about uncertainly, her shoulders slumped and her voice weary. “We could use the amulets.”

“The amulets?” Luna echoed incredulously. “We did not extract them from the castle to use them, sister. The exact opposite, in fact.”

“We’re alicorns. They won’t affect us like they would a mortal pony.” Celestia turned away from Luna, facing the wall of windows through which she could see the crowd standing outside. “And they were created for our use. If there was ever a time…”

“We put them behind us,” Luna cautioned sternly. “It was thine idea!”

“And you’re the one that said we should keep using them,” Celestia said, turning and staring intently to where Twilight assumed Luna was standing. “Think of all the lives we could save, Luna!”

There was a long moment where neither sister said anything. Twilight frowned, considering what she’d heard. What amulets were they talking about? Cadance had hidden the shards of three amulets in her lab, the amulets she said Celestia had used to flood the world. Was this the first step on the path that led Celestia to that terrible decision?

Luna was the one to break the silence. “Thou art correct, as always,” she said stiffly. The tinkle of magic drifted across the room, and a couple seconds later three amulets floated into Twilight’s view. Each one had a vibrant gemstone set into an elaborate golden neckpiece: a sparkling sapphire that glittered like the ocean on a clear night, a verdant emerald that appeared to writhe with life, and a brilliant ruby that seemed to throb within its frame like a beating heart. “Take care, sister.”

“You know me, Luna.” Celestia smiled wanly as she accepted the amulets in her own magic. “Be ready. The changelings will not sit idle once they realize what we’re trying.”

Celestia walked out of view, and a few seconds later Twilight heard the door open and swing shut. She looked to Midnight, who was crouched low beside her.

Your Princess is alone, she said. We should attempt to confront her.

Twilight nodded. Let me talk to her. Maybe here she’ll be able to recognize me.

And if not?

Twilight grimaced. Then we’ll try something else.

Straightening up, Twilight took a step forward and nearly walked straight into Princess Luna.

She stiffened, looking up and meeting the Princess’s angry glare. Her long horn glowed, silvery light reflecting off the walls.

“Thou dost not belong here.”

Twilight’s vision burst into searing white. She flinched, stumbling back as stars popped in her eyes and her ears rang, followed a second later by a sudden lurching sensation in her stomach. It felt like she was falling upwards, drifting off the ground with increasingly sickening speed.

“Oof!” Twilight smacked to a stop against hard earth. She groaned, blinking the blurriness from her eyes and struggling to her hooves.

I’m getting sick of these games, little flower, Midnight growled. We’re bumbling about like blind foals and no closer to our goal!

“Ugh.” Twilight rubbed at her head, looking up and taking in her surroundings. Dark trees flanked her in every direction, the thick canopy blocking almost all light. “I—I think we’re making progress. Every time we’ve seen Luna, she’s sent us closer to the present.”

But why does she toy with us like this? We’ve come to save her, and she forces us through this maze of memories!

Twilight sighed as she pushed herself into a trot, weaving between tree trunks and over gnarled roots. “We must be almost there. The last dream was only a month before the floods.” The undergrowth was just as thick as the canopy, leaves and twigs crunching underhoof as she squeezed through it. “No matter how long it takes us, we can’t give up. This is our best chance at fixing things.” Though she didn’t say it out loud, she knew Midnight would hear the unspoken implication: if they failed here, they didn’t have anything else to fall back on.

Despite her determination, Twilight could already feel the mental strain weighing on her. The mix of fresh mysteries, revelation, and emotional turmoil was exhausting, but she couldn’t allow it to slow her down. She just had to bottle it all up, every question and heartache, and focus on moving ahead, no matter how strangely hollow it made her feel.

After a few minutes of walking it became clear to Twilight that they were in the Everfree Forest. Even if she couldn’t tell where exactly inside the haunted wood they were, the endless, indistinguishable wall of trees in every direction couldn’t be anywhere else.

It was strange, seeing the forest as it used to be again. She’d only been in it a few times before the floods, and in her most recent visit it had been resting far under the waves. She hadn’t had any chance to peek under the canopy back then, but now she found herself imagining what it looked like.

A flash of sunlight ahead of her pulled her from her thoughts. She quickened into a trot, jumping through a break in the trees and coming out onto a rocky ledge.

Ahead of her, across a rope bridge gently swaying in the wind, was the Castle of the Two Sisters.

Twilight glanced towards Midnight before starting across the bridge. She couldn’t help but compare the castle to how it’d appeared when she found it at the bottom of the ocean. Compared to its flooded state, the ancient stones looked almost pristine as she walked through the arched entryway. The tapestries on the walls, faded and threadbare, still retained their color and intricate embroidery. She knew she was only walking through an old memory, but nonetheless it felt like she’d traveled back in time.

Her ears twitched at a muffled sound from ahead, barely audible over the clopping of her hooves. She paused, tilting her head and angling her ears until it came again—a pained shout, coming from deeper inside the castle.

It’s coming from the throne room, Midnight said, stepping ahead. Where we found her.

The expedition! Twilight’s horn glowed as she channeled her magic into the form of a hasty teleportation spell. The researchers that were working out of my library sent an expedition here, with Princess Luna! This must be when she put herself to sleep! With a crack and flash, she flung herself across the castle.

The castle was quiet when she reappeared outside the grand double doors of the throne room, tapestries fluttering around her as she displaced the air. As the lingering sparkles from her teleportation faded she realized that it was darker, too, the sunlight that had been streaming through the windows replaced with the pale white glow of the moon. One door was cracked open just enough for a pony to slip through, obscuring what awaited on the other side.

Slowly Twilight crept forward, poking her head through the gap.

Princess Luna sat in the center of the circular chamber, her head hung low and her shoulders slumped. Her wings drooped beside her, the long feathers splayed out over the floor. Her astral mane billowed about as if in the midst of a hurricane, the clear night sky usually held within contaminated by a dark red nebula that twisted across it in angry tendrils.

There were ponies scattered around her, all lying down with their eyes closed and expressions peaceful. A couple wore the armor of royal guards, but most were dressed in simple saddlebags, hats, and jackets. Many of them were unicorns, and from what few cutie marks she could see, Twilight assumed this was the research party that had accompanied the Princess into the Everfree.

They weren’t breathing.

Luna remained totally still in the middle of the scene, facing away from the door. Her billowing mane was the only movement in the room. Twilight glanced to her side, exchanging looks with Midnight.

Just as Twilight was steeling herself to step inside, a trio of other ponies walked cautiously into the room from a smaller side door. They wore armor like the Royal Guards, but instead of gold their bodies were wrapped in polished silver. Each one had the distinctive slitted eyes and leathery wings of a bat pony, and their hooves made no sound as they approached the Princess.

“Your Highness?” the lead bat pony asked.

“Thou shouldest not approach me,” Luna whispered, drawing away from them.

The bat ponies stopped a respectful distance away. “What happened?”

Luna didn’t say anything for a long moment. Twilight’s throat tightened as she thought back to her own past, how she’d felt when she realized she’d hurt one of her closest friends. In that moment she’d wished more than anything to take it back. She would’ve given anything, even her own life, to go back just a few seconds and try another path. The days following that moment had been the darkest days of her life, and not just because she spent them at the bottom of the ocean surrounded by bodies.

“I have—committed a terrible crime,” Luna said, her voice hoarse. “Leave me here.”

The bat ponies frowned, exchanging looks between themselves. “We can’t leave you here, your Highness. It’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous to whom?” Luna countered, a bitterness creeping into her voice. “Dost thou not see these breathless sleepers around me? I—cannot control myself!” Her shoulders shuddered as she paused to let out a choking sob. “If ye stay then I will hurt you! Bring the bodies back home for burial, and leave me here among the monsters, or ye shall hang for treason!”

The bat ponies stayed where they were. They looked between each other in confusion, before one spoke up. “We have our oaths, your Highness. We are not afraid of you.”

“Foals.” Luna uttered the word with more exhaustion than disdain. “Ye should be. How can ye not fear a goddess who fears herself?”

“We have our oaths,” the guard repeated. “And our faith. We will stay with you.”

Luna let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. “I cannot say whether thy loyalty is a blessing or a curse. But I will take solace in it.” Finally she lifted her head, looking towards the bat ponies, and Twilight could see the blood tears streaming down her cheeks and the fangs poking past her lips. “Silver Star, return to thy kin and bid them to flee into the Night. I do not know if my sister will defeat this corruption, but thou art not bound to serve her in my absence.”

Silver Star dipped his head and stepped back. “What of yourself, your Highness?”

“I will stay here. I know not for how long, but thou shalt not come look for me. When it is time, I will call.” She looked sadly to the other two bat ponies in turn, who stiffened to attention. “These two shall be my guardians until then.”

“As you wish, your Highness.” Silver Star lifted his head. “Nox Impavida.”

Luna gave him a small nod and a wan smile. “Nox Impavida.”

After several seconds of hesitation, Silver Star turned in place and marched out of the chamber, leaving Luna alone with the two other silver-armored guards. She drew in a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh, looking up at the moon through a crumbled hole high in the chamber’s walls.

“Lay down and close thine eyes, my faithful guardians,” she said.

The guards did as they were told, one lying down on each side of their Princess. They closed their eyes and rested their heads on their forelegs, their tails curling around their flanks. The soft tinkle of magic drifted through the air as Luna’s slender horn began to glow.

A sudden wave of drowsiness washed over Twilight. She stumbled the rest of the way through the door, struggling to keep her eyes open, and fell onto her side. She didn’t feel the hard stone catch her. She felt as if she was falling through a thick bed of clouds, floating down on a cool wind like a twirling leaf in autumn. She tried to find the ground, feeling out with a hoof, but no matter what direction she reached in, she felt only bare wisps of sensation that would disappear so fast she wasn’t sure if she was feeling anything at all. A tingling hoof pressed against hers, and she saw her own eyes looking back at her in the dark, slitted and bloodshot.

Twilight jerked her head out of the water. She was lying on her side in a shallow, gently sloshing lake, the water as smooth as glass. Reflected within it she saw a sky split in two, one side a dark, throbbing red, roiling clouds swirling around a blood moon that seemed to rotate and twist in place like a huge, angry eye. The other was a clear night sky, the twinkling stars swaying to and fro like tiny candles bobbing on the surface of a lake. There was a gentle rain drizzling from above, each drop sending little ripples across the water, and in the waves she caught glimpses of other things—burning cities, marching armies, smiling ponies—Luna’s parallel dreams, each one blinking in and out of existence in a heartbeat.

Twilight stood, shaking the drowsiness from her head. She could see Princess Luna asleep in the middle of the lake, resting peacefully on the little island in the center lit by the luminescence of flowers and mushrooms.

“We did it,” she said breathlessly. Looking behind her, she could see a distant border where the lake water turned into starlight, drifting up into an infinite curtain of stars. “We made it to the center.”

“Finally.” Midnight looked up, focusing on something above them. “Now we can do what we came here to do.”

Arcing through the split sky, two silhouettes battled for dominance. Luna’s Guardian could barely be seen until it flew under the angry red clouds that dominated half the horizon, its astral form silhouetted clearly against them. It twisted its head, firing a beam of starlight from the tip of its long horn. Opposite it, Luna’s Wyrd lifted one of its bloodstained wings, erecting a thick red shield that absorbed the beam and then shattered, splitting into a thousand drops of blood that rained down into the waters below.

“Right.” Twilight nodded, spreading her stance. “So, here’s the plan. We—”

Midnight spread her stance and roared as she launched a lance of lavender magic towards the Wyrd, the water rippling and splashing around her hooves. The Wyrd stiffened, disappearing in a flash of red just as the attack cut through the sky where it’d been. It popped back into being a short distance away, baring its fangs and hissing in fury.

“Midnight!” Twilight stomped a hoof. “That’s not a plan!”

“You make the plan.” Midnight’s lips peeled back as she answered the Wyrd with her own equally bloody snarl. “I’ll kill the monster.”

She ran forwards, hooves kicking up fountains of water in her wake and horn glowing lavender with crackling arcs of red lightning. She pulled two jets of water from the lake as she ran, draining their heat until they formed into a pair of misshapen spears, and threw them ahead of her, each one leaving a hanging mist of vapor in their wake.

The Wyrd jerked its head, lifting a curtain of blood from the lake in front of it. The curtain hardened into a firm wall, intercepting the ice spears, and a second later burst apart as the Wyrd leapt through it, meeting Midnight head-on.

Twilight flinched as Midnight and the Wyrd locked horns, snarling and stomping like crazed animals. Even watching from a distance, her connection to Midnight let her experience a shadow of the battle as if she were in it herself. She could feel the muscles in her neck straining, the excited shriek of magic as she twisted her horn to try and hit her enemy with bolts of magic, the water splashing around her hooves as she fought to keep her balance while dislodging her foe, and most breathtaking of all, the pure hatred welling in her breast, so powerful it threatened to swallow all conscious thought.

Twilight stumbled and shook her head, looking away and withdrawing from her connection with Midnight. She ran towards Luna instead, the water kicked up by her hooves tickling at her belly.

“Princess!” she called, eyes fixed on Luna’s sleeping form. She grinned as she reached the small island in the center of the lake and climbed up the sandy beach, just a few steps away from the cushion the Princess reclined on. She looked utterly at peace here, without the bloody tears that were stained into her cheeks in the waking world.

A sudden wave of force shoved Twilight back into the lake. She yelped, falling on her back and looking up at the astral Guardian that floated down to stand in front of her, blocking her path.

“Wait! It’s okay!” Twilight climbed carefully back to her hooves, looking to where she imagined the eyes would be on the Guardian’s featureless head. “I’m on your side!”

The Guardian didn’t move. After a few seconds its head twisted slightly.

“You have to recognize me,” Twilight tried, a note of uncertainty creeping into her voice. “I’m Twilight Sparkle! My friends and I rescued Princess Luna from Nightmare Moon! Please, let me help her!”

The Guardian didn’t move.

“You’re part of her subconscious, right?” Twilight walked to the side, trying to get a glimpse at Luna. The Guardian remained perfectly still, but somehow remained directly in front of her, blocking her view of the Princess. “Don’t you recognize me?”

The Guardian showed no reaction. Twilight grimaced, plopping back onto her haunches. Was she doing something wrong? She wracked her memory of the dreamwalking lessons Luna had given her, but this was so far beyond the basic principles she’d been taught she couldn’t even guess at what she might need to do.

She bit her lip, frustration welling in her chest and coming out in an angry stomp. “Let me through!”

The Guardian lowered its stance, answering her with a wispy, warning hiss.

A sharp cry of pain from Midnight drew her attention. Twilight whirled, watching as the other mare was sent tumbling across the lake, trailing blood. Luna’s Wyrd raced after her, its maw open wide to reveal rows of deadly fangs inside poised to strike.

“No!” Twilight gasped, horn sparking to life. Without thinking she teleported to Midnight’s side, summoning a spherical shield around them just in time to intercept the Wyrd’s descending fangs.

“What are you doing?” Midnight growled, wincing as she rolled onto her belly. “I do not need your help, little flower!”

Twilight grunted, transferring the energy from her shield into a shockwave that sent the Wyrd stumbling backwards. She grabbed Midnight’s shoulder and helped her back to her hooves. “We’re doing this together, right?”

Midnight opened her mouth, and Twilight could see the scathing retort forming in her mind. But instead she hesitated, briefly meeting Twilight’s eyes and then looking away.

“Together, yes. It won’t stand a chance.”

“Great.” Twilight smiled. “I’ll focus on defense. You do what you do best.”

Midnight snorted, rolling her shoulders. “You would be a pitifully poor attacker.”

Luna’s Wyrd drew their attention with a raspy snarl. It squared off against the two of them, its tail lashing sharply behind it and its horn dripping a thick stream of blood. Now that she was closer, Twilight was struck by the tangible hunger in its eyes. Under all the scars and blood, it was still a perfect replica of Princess Luna, and she found herself wondering if this was what Midnight would’ve become, if Twilight hadn’t tried showing her another way.

Midnight struck first, swinging her head down and launching an arc of crackling lavender energy that screeched through the air like a sawblade, throwing up a curtain of glittering water behind it. The Wyrd deflected the attack with an explosive burst of red magic, then rushed in, long talons extending from its hooves as it pounced. Twilight clenched her jaw and erected a shield, throwing the monster back.

The fight quickly fell into a rhythm. Midnight unleashed a ceaseless assault, attacking from every direction with bolts of magic, sharpened spikes of ice, jabs from her horn, and bucks of her hind legs, but none of her attacks made a solid connection. Twilight could barely keep up with her, putting all of her focus on deflecting the Wyrd’s own attacks, flinching back as it shrieked and wailed its hate. They were locked in stalemate, neither side able to hurt the other.

But Twilight could feel her reactions slowing, and Midnight’s too. No matter how determined they might be, Luna was still the Princess of Dreams, and her wyrd showed no sign of tiring. Twilight’s shields went from all-protecting domes to small, flickering discs that existed only long enough to block one strike before dissipating, and soon they began to crack and chip as they were struck. Despite her fury, Midnight’s attacks were growing weaker, her challenging roars less common. And all the while Twilight caught glimpses of the Guardian standing in the background, watching impassively.

Finally a blow made it through. Twilight cried out as she was thrown to the side, bouncing and skipping across the lake before rolling to a stop. She groaned, blinking the stars from her eyes as her ears rang. Glancing to her left, she saw the edge of the lake dissolving into starlight. To her right, she saw Midnight dodge two lunges from the Wyrd’s wings, then catch a blast of magic that knocked her onto her back with a sharp yelp.

The Wyrd stomped its hooves and flared its wings, roaring a challenge as Twilight struggled into a sitting position. She wasn’t bleeding. She wasn’t even bruised. But she could feel the impact of the Wyrd’s attacks in a persistent, painful throbbing at the base of her horn. Dream or not, if it hit her hard enough she’d be helpless, and it wouldn’t hesitate to consume her consciousness just like all its past victims.

Midnight rolled back to her hooves with a frustrated scream, stomping and kicking at the water around her. Twilight let out a quiet grunt before teleporting to her side and laying a consoling hoof on her shoulder.

“Midnight, calm down!” she said. “Getting mad doesn’t help anything!”

“Mad?” Midnight echoed haggardly, shaking her head. “How can you not be mad? This mindless creature is beating us, even when we work together!” She jerked her head towards the posturing Wyrd, lips pulled back into a snarl. “Don’t you realize what happens if we lose here?”

Twilight flinched. “Well—”

“We will die, Twilight!” Midnight snapped. “We’ll stop breathing on the floor of Shaper’s throne room, another victim of hundreds! Our friends will never know what happened! We will fail!”

Twilight blinked, stunned by the emotion in Midnight’s voice.

“What?!” Midnight spat. “You know I’m right! You feel it, too! Or you would, if you didn’t push it all onto me!”

Twilight frowned, taken aback by the accusation. “I don’t—”

“You are!” Midnight turned towards the Wyrd and spread her stance, tail lashing behind her and blood tears welling in her eyes. “You think you’re calm right now because you’re good at handling stress? Ha! You bottle it up and hide it away like always, little flower! But that’s fine!” Midnight’s horn began to glow, the whine of magic building around them. “I’ll take it! I hold the pain and you do the thinking! That’s how we work best!”

An arcane wind circled around them, tugging at their manes and sending ripples through the water as Midnight pulled more and more magic into her horn. Twilight watched in silence, seeing the mess of emotion in the heaving of Midnight’s chest, the stains on her cheeks, the twitching of her ears and the clench of her jaw. And she realized.

Twilight reached out, taking Midnight’s hoof with her own. The other mare looked down in confusion, going to pull it away, but before she could move Twilight closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel.

All the pain. The shame. The terrible breathtaking dread of what might happen, squeezed into a tight knot by the pressure of expectation. The white-hot rage with nothing to take it out on, an inferno inside her that made her want to scream and stomp until she collapsed from exhaustion. The tentative hope lingering under it all, wrapped protectively around the love she had for her friends. All the little feelings she had pushed aside for later, pressed down and packaged into neat items on a checklist that she could ignore, as long as she kept moving forward.

It was there for just an instant before Midnight yanked her hoof away, taking the flood of emotion back with it. Twilight gasped, opening her eyes and gazing intently into Midnight’s glare.

“This is how you feel?” she whispered. “All the time?”

“It’s what you gave me! Look out!” Midnight pushed her back just as a thick tendril of blood lashed down in the space she’d been standing, throwing a curtain of water up between them. “It’s my duty!”

“That’s how you see yourself?” Twilight leaned to the side, trying to catch Midnight’s eye through the falling water. “But—that’s terrible!”

“You misunderstand as always, little flower!” Midnight kept her gaze focused on Twilight, sidestepping a wild lunge of the Wyrd’s wing. “Yes, it’s terrible—” Midnight grit her teeth and shoved the monster back with a blast of magic “—but I’m not the victim!”

Twilight stepped forwards, pausing as she tried to gather her thoughts, only for the Wyrd to lash out with its other wing and catch her square in the chest. The blow drove the air from her lungs, lifting her off her hooves and sending her soaring backwards.

Twilight struck the ground with a strangled yelp, bouncing and rolling before finally coming to a stop with her ears ringing. She blinked in shock, gasping for breath as she lifted her head, squinting into a blinding flash of light as the shriek of magic filled the air.

Slowly the image came into focus. Midnight was standing over her with a furious snarl, meeting a beam of energy from the Wyrd with her own. The beams hissed and spit on contact before fizzling out with a deafening boom, sending Midnight stumbling back with a pained wince.

“You see?” Midnight straightened up with a bloody grin, breathing hard. “I can take the pain!”

“But—” Twilight climbed weakly to her hooves, muttering under her breath. All the pain she’d pushed down, the hundreds of times she’d set it aside for later, all this time she’d only been putting it on Midnight? “I n-never meant to—I—”

“Focus, little flower!” Midnight looked ahead and met the charging Wyrd head-on, stabbing her horn into its chest and shoving it back with a roar of fury. Blood dripped from her horn as she yanked it free, scrambling away from a bite aimed for her throat. “I need you!”

Twilight looked up, tears brimming in her eyes. “But I hurt you.”

Midnight froze, turning to face Twilight. “What?”

Twilight took a faltering step forwards, staring into Midnight’s eyes. “It’s my fault.”

Midnight frowned, lifting a hoof with uncertainty. Behind her the Wyrd hissed, and a writhing tendril of blood burst from its side and smacked into the side of Midnight’s head. Midnight grunted as she was thrown to the ground, repelling the Wyrd’s follow-up with a shockwave of lavender energy.

“This is not the time, Twilight!” Midnight leapt back to her hooves, dodging a blast from the Wyrd’s horn. “Now, of all times, you want to process these emotions?” Beads of water burst up around her, hardening into ice shards that she sent hurtling towards the Wyrd, forcing it back. “Let me bear it, for just a little longer!”

“No.” Twilight’s voice cracked. She wiped the tears from her eyes, summoning a shield in front of them just as the Wyrd pounced with a deafening screech. The shield cracked as it impacted, but didn’t break. “No more.”

“This isn’t the time!” Midnight insisted, watching as the Wyrd took flight and began to draw magic into its horn. “Do you want us to die?”

“What you’ve dealt with—” Twilight reached out, taking one of Midnight’s hooves firmly into her own. “That’s not living.”

As Midnight tried to pull away, Twilight closed her eyes and looked inwards, finding the barrier between them and forcing herself through it.

Where before she’d faced a flood of emotion, now it was an ocean. Twilight dove into it headfirst, pushing into the murky depths as the waves pushed her in every direction. The sea grabbed her like a riptide, pulling her down in competing currents of fury and fear, followed by a moment of panic. She realized that if she didn’t turn back then she would never escape, doomed to drown.

But if she didn’t keep going, then Midnight would have to face that fate alone. Like she’d always done.

Twilight surrendered herself to the darkness, breathing in deep. Cold, grasping claws pulled her down, whispering into her ears. She was ashamed of how she’d treated her friends and revolted by what she’d become. She was afraid that after everything, she wouldn’t be good enough. That she’d fail. She hated her world for ending and leaving her behind. She hated Shaper, hated all the monsters that had forced her to fight.

And most of all she hated herself, for selfishly forcing this pain on another.

It was enough to overwhelm anypony. To turn them into a bitter, spitting villain that lashed out at any perceived threat. And as Twilight settled onto the seafloor she saw Midnight standing across from her, her cheeks stained red and her lips quivering beneath a shaky glare.

There at the bottom of it all, drowning in her turmoil, Twilight reached out and, for the first time since she’d awoken in the dead ruins of Canterlot, she stopped.

Midnight’s eyes widened, the blood trailing over her cheeks drying out. Crystal-clear tears streamed down in their place, washing away the bloodstains.

Why are you doing this?

Twilight answered with a sad smile. Because no one should have to endure that pain. Her own tears thickened and darkened, turning to dark beads of blood dripping down her cheeks. Least of all a friend.

Midnight blinked. It… doesn’t hurt. She looked down at herself, her shoulders jerking as she let out a choked cry. It always hurts. As long as I can remember.

Twilight stepped forward, pulling Midnight into a tight hug as the other mare began to sob in earnest. She wept too, her ears drooping as she let the months of suppressed grief finally wash over her.

Midnight pulled her hooves up, returning the hug with a trembling squeeze. And despite everything, that made Twilight feel a little better. Even in the face of all her pain, fear, and doubts, she still had her friend with her.

And friendship is magic.

The lake snapped back into vivid clarity around her as Twilight opened her eyes, blinking away the blood tears. She felt as if she had run a thousand miles at a full sprint and her head throbbed with a sharp, stabbing pain. Her hooves twitched, her breaths coming in little gasps as she was struck by a sudden, persistent urge to act, to do something. To do anything.

Midnight stood at her side, a broad smile on her face. There was no bitterness, no judgment, no pain hidden behind a cocky mask.

“I feel free.”

The Wyrd hovered over them, silhouetted by the blood moon in the sky. It reared back and unleashed a vivid lance of red magic aimed straight for them.

Twilight went to summon a shield, but her magic faltered, the sparks fizzling out at the end of her horn—

Midnight stepped forwards; her horn burst to light as a radiant lavender dome formed around them. The Wyrd’s attack bounced off, crackling into smaller pieces that arced away and sent fountains of water splashing into the air where they landed.

“I feel alive!” Midnight giggled, accompanied by the rippling of the water as she danced in place.

Twilight flinched as cold drops of water splattered across her face. She opened her mouth to chastise Midnight for dancing in the middle of a fight to the death, only to bite her tongue at the last moment as she realized what she was doing. Swallowing the bile in her throat, she instead forced out a, “How?”

“I’ve always told you you hold this power, little flower.” Midnight spread her stance and dispelled the shield, drawing more magic to the tip of her horn as waves of light rippled and danced around them. “You’ve just been afraid to use it.”

Aiming her horn at the Wyrd hovering above them, Midnight unleashed a wave of searing white magic so bright that Twilight had to screw her eyes shut. Even through her eyelids she saw the beam twist around itself as it cut through the air with an arcane shriek and a thunderous boom.

There was a pained screech that echoed around them, followed by a heavy splash, and then a fading whine as the magic dissipated, leaving Twilight blinking the after-image of the beam away and trying to shake the ringing out of her ears. It took her a moment to spot the Wyrd, lying on its side a few yards away, completely still. Misty red arcs of blood swirled out into the lake around it, mixing with its bloodsoaked mane and tail.

Twilight waited. It didn’t get up.

“We did it!” Midnight stomped a hoof in celebration. “Did you see that?”

Twilight could feel the surge of elation through their bond, but it was strangled by the fury still writhing in her gut. Nevertheless she forced a smile onto her face and nodded. “Yeah. It was good.”

Whatever she was going to say next was cut off by a strangled yelp as Midnight pulled her into a hug, squeezing her tightly. “Alright, that’s enough!” Twilight tried to push her off, grumbling as her lips twitched up in a small smile despite herself. “Let me go!”

Midnight gave Twilight one last squeeze before releasing her, running up to Luna’s Wyrd and sitting at its side. Twilight followed at a cautious walk, scanning the lake for any other threats. It was easy to imagine the Wyrd was dead, but Twilight suspected it would recover within a day, or maybe less. She glanced towards the island, where the Guardian was still watching in silence by Luna’s sleeping form, and narrowed her eyes. Now that the Wyrd was beaten, the Guardian was the next biggest threat.

The Guardian stared back impassively. As if it were mocking her.

“Come on,” Midnight said, drawing her attention. “It’s time to wake up.”

Twilight nodded, positioning herself above the Wyrd’s head. Lowering her horn until it touched against the jagged tip of the Wyrd’s, Twilight closed her eyes.



Twilight woke up with her chin resting on Luna’s barrel. The cold crystal of the floor had grown warm against her body, its surface tinted by the soft lavender glow of the shield surrounding her.

She was exhausted. A bone-deep weariness that she felt in every muscle, every breath, and every beat of her heart. Her heart ached as if it were about to burst and her legs shuddered with the effort of standing. She could barely think, and she wondered at how Midnight had functioned at all.

“Equestrian?” Shaper’s deep voice sounded like distant thunder at first, muffled by the horizon. “It is done?”

Twilight teetered for a moment, taking a breath as she tried to gather her thoughts. Midnight appeared at her side, placing a comforting hoof against her shoulder. “It’s done.”

“Yes. We feel it now, Our magic knotted together with hers.” Shaper let out a long, low hum. “And something else too?” Twilight tensed, her magic responding sluggishly as she prepared a spell. “You are—lighter. Altered.” The shadows thickened around them, probing at the edges of their shield and causing it to fade, as Shaper’s curiosity dipped into dark fascination.

“You have your prize! Or are you so quick to break your word?” Midnight snapped, reinforcing the shield around them.

“No. We would not. We are merely curious.” The shadows stopped, then pulled away. The walls appeared to bow inwards before disappearing in the swirling shadows, all light outside of their shield swallowed up but for the dull red of his eyes frozen behind his crystal prison. “Truly, a gift fit for a king.”

The hairs on the nape of Twilight’s neck tingled. She didn’t see any magic aura, but she could feel Shaper’s power slithering through the air like invisible serpents. The strange current slid past her, wrapping around Princess Luna and squeezing firm.

Twilight stepped away, watching in silence. The shadows shuddered around the shield as Luna’s serene expression strained, her brow furrowing and her lips turning down into a pained frown. She let out quiet grunts as her hooves scratched at the ground, tail swishing and wings twitching.

“What are you doing?” Twilight asked, trying to keep the weakness out of her voice. If Shaper was trying to hurt Luna, then they would have to defeat him next.

“Only what you bid Us do, Equestrian,” Shaper rumbled. There was a hungry energy in his voice, like an alcoholic in line on the first day of cider season. “The process is not pleasant, but your Princess will not be harmed.”

Twilight pursed her lips. Midnight gave her hoof a gentle squeeze. Steady, little flower. I can see the workings of his magic. He is doing as we asked.

Finally, Luna relaxed. Twilight felt the invisible dark presence withdraw, retreating back to Shaper’s crystal form as the shadows eased back.

“It is done.”

Twilight licked her lips. Gingerly she knelt at Princess Luna’s side, uncertain of whether to reach out, or even to speak, but finally she couldn’t keep it in any longer.

She touched a hoof to Luna’s shoulder, her heart skipping a beat when the alicorn stirred.

“Princess?”





“We’re going down! Abandon ship!”

Rarity clung to the cracked railing in shock as the smoke stung at her eyes and nose. Where had it all gone wrong? She’d known the plan to defeat Philomena had been dangerous, even suicidal, but nothing could have prepared her for the chaos of failure.

It had all happened so fast, and now the world seemed to move as if in slow motion. She saw every detail in the flames curling around the ship’s hull, the bodies sliding limply over the deck as it tilted forward. The sky disappeared into the smoke, replaced by the sight of Leviathan Wakes bobbing on the waves growing steadily closer. She saw the deepfish circling under the surface, a thousand menacing shadows outlined by the noon sun.

Philomena hovered before them as a harbinger of doom, the water rippling beneath her as she sent waves of fire splashing against the ship-city beneath with every beat of her wings. Her glow was growing brighter, flames around her leaning in, and Rarity realized with a distant, detached sense of dread that she was preparing to unleash another deadly attack.

Rarity’s stomach lurched. The deck tilted even further, gravity threatening to drag her down as the ship listed to one side. Looking back, she saw Jester standing between two of the ship’s three wheels, clutching a spoke in each hoof with a mad look in her eye. The pastel purple of her fur was indistinguishable under the soot staining her face, which when combined with the jagged edge of her broken horn, the bloody cuts marring her coat, and the twisted snarl of her lips, made her look more like a spirit of vengeance than a living pony.

Above them, the ship’s envelope split in two with a hideous tearing sound. Rarity flinched, tightening her grip on the railing as pieces of flaming canvas rained around her and rolled off the deck. Her mane flapped wildly around her, caught between the waves of hot air coming off the fires and the upwards pull of the wind as she plummeted out of the sky aboard a ruined hunk of blazing metal and wood.

Looking down, Rarity caught one last glimpse of Philomena before the ship crashed into her at full speed.

Half a second later, it hit the water.

Rarity shrieked as the powerful shock of impact broke her grip. She went spinning across the deck as a huge wave of salty water reared up and splashed onto it. The groan of splintering wood drowned out the shouts of the crew and the roar of the flames. The deck bucked and rolled beneath her, sending her sliding back the other direction until her flailing hooves caught hold of a stretch of half-loose netting.

Finally the rocking deck stilled enough that she could pull herself shakily to her hooves. She watched dumbly as Wakers ran in every direction, grabbing spears, firebombs, and harpoon guns before leaping overboard. Some landed on the floating piers criss-crossing the city, gathering together into knots of resistance to fend off the deepfish that lunged from the ocean. Others splashed into the water, swimming desperately for scant seconds before being dragged under, replaced moments after by swirls of red.

It wasn’t until Rarity’s gaze passed over the smoking hole in the middle of the deck that she snapped out of her daze, everything lurching back into terrifying focus at once.

“Fluttershy!”

She turned, sprinting for the nearest door that would take her below decks. It hung half-open, popped off its hinges by the crash, and she was forced to pause and twist, hitting with two full-bodied bucks of her hind legs before it fell apart.

It was hot inside the ship. With only a few small windows and doors for air to circulate through, the hull was quickly turning into a giant oven, with a constant cloud of black smoke pooling against the ceiling. Rarity ripped a length of fabric from her cloak, tying it over her muzzle and pressing deeper through the cramped halls.

She drew up short as she turned a corner and nearly bumped head-on into Whitehorn. He blinked, looking her over, then grabbed her hoof and went to pull her back outside.

“Countess! Quickly, before we sink any further!” His voice was ragged, and bloody cuts were ripped across his vest.

“Fluttershy is still down there!” Rarity jerked her hoof away. “We need to save her!”

“She’s dead, Countess!” Whitehorn shouted. “The lower deck is flooding and aflame!”

“Go if you must!” Rarity turned away from him, starting for a steep stairway clogged with smoke. “But I will not abandon her!”

Thankfully, he didn’t try to stop her. Clenching her eyes shut tight, Rarity dove into the smoke and clumsily felt her way down the stairs. Cold water sloshed around her hooves as she reached the bottom, taking a few steps before opening her eyes again.

The lower deck of the ship was a mess. The neatly organized stacks of cargo that had been stored within had fallen into haphazard piles, many of the containers popping open and spilling their contents. A jagged gap was torn into one side of the hull, water flooding in as punctured pipes vented hot steam from the walls. There were still sheets of fire climbing up the walls in many places, but the salty water was gaining ground, steadily dragging the ship down. From where she was, Rarity could catch glimpses of one of the city’s floating walkways, a group of Wakers struggling to fend off a growing horde of deepfish, and a fresh wave of fear swelled in her gut as she realized that soon the predatory monsters would be swarming into the ship.

She dismissed the sensation quickly, focusing instead on the keening bear cry from the far side of the hold. Brownie squatted on top of a raised platform opposite the stairs, connected to Rarity’s landing by a thin metal catwalk that looked like it would snap in two at the slightest disturbance. And leaning against him, covered in scratches and matted with smoke, was a coughing Fluttershy.

“Fluttershy!” Rarity lifted a hoof to run across the catwalk, but a sideways lurch of the hull and a groan from the metal gave her cause to hesitate. Looking around, she spotted a length of thick rope floating in the water, and reaching out with her magic she hauled it up and tied it around the middle of the catwalk, where it looked the weakest.

Biting her lip and uttering a quick prayer to Celestia, Rarity bolted across the catwalk. The metal rattled underhoof, but thankfully didn’t snap, allowing her to skid to a stop at her friend’s side.

“Rarity?” Fluttershy croaked. She coughed, doubling over with an ugly wheeze. “Where’s Philomena?”

“We need to get you out of here!” Rarity tore two more makeshift masks from her cloak, using her magic to quickly tie them over Fluttershy and Brownie’s muzzles. “The ship is sinking!”

“Philomena is down here too!” Fluttershy said, her hoarse voice barely audible over the rushing water. “She’s hurt!”

Rarity grabbed Fluttershy’s shoulders, meaning to drag her out of the ship by force if necessary, but a keening ethereal wail from behind her froze her in place. She looked back over her shoulder, a pit of dread forming in her gut as she spotted the shape spreading its wings under the water in the cargo hold, silhouetted by a pulsing golden glow.

Philomena burst out of the water, casting fresh flames over the hold that began to eat away at the scattered cargo. The rope Rarity had used to tie off the catwalk sizzled and snapped, the metal giving out an instant later and splashing into the water, cutting off the path back to the stairs.

The phoenix was battered and bleeding, her fire dull enough that Rarity could clearly see her face contorted in fury. She let out another shrill call, swooping closer and pulling into a hover close enough that Rarity flinched back from the wave of heat.

“Philomena!” Fluttershy called, pushing off Brownie’s side and struggling to stand up straight. She flared her wings and pulled her mask down, putting surprising strength into her scratchy voice. “Stop! We don’t want to hurt you!”

Philomena hissed. The fires raging around the room began to lean in as her eyes glowed brighter.

“Countess!”

Rarity looked up, squinting through the haze of smoke and spotting Jester’s head peeking through the hole in the ship that Fluttershy had fallen through.

“Catch!”

A long shape fell through the smoke, clattering to the ground by Rarity’s side—a harpoon gun, already loaded. Rarity scooped it up clumsily and pointed it at Philomena, only then realizing she didn’t know how to shoot the thing.

“Fluttershy?” Rarity asked, looking between the pegasus and the phoenix.

Fluttershy didn’t respond. She stood tall as the wind pulled at her mane and the ship rocked beneath her, fixing Philomena with a harsh stare. Philomena hovered in front of her, seemingly transfixed, but showing no sign of backing down. Rarity grimaced as she saw the bloody wounds and old scars criss-crossing the phoenix’s body.

This is it, isn’t it? she thought. They’d thrown everything they had at the phoenix, and it was only just now showing signs of slowing down. All they had left was one harpoon, and Rarity didn’t even know how to shoot it. She could already see Philomena straining to break free of Fluttershy’s stare, her wings twitching and her head jerking as she tried to look away.

The room went dark.

The fires dulled. The thrashing waves grew still. Philomena’s glow diminished and then vanished entirely, the anger in her eyes turning to confusion.

A chill went down Rarity’s spine. She looked up to the sky, through the rings of shattered wood and curling smoke, and saw the moon hovering in front of the sun, a pitch-black disk framed with white casting the world into shadow.

An eclipse.

“Shoot!” Jester shouted. “The lever by the handle! Pull it!”

Rarity blinked. She looked down, her hoof sliding into place against the trigger, and lifted the harpoon gun to her eye. Philomena was looking up, hovering almost totally still in front of her. She couldn’t possibly miss, but she hesitated.

“Fluttershy?”

“Do it,” Fluttershy whispered.

Rarity pulled the trigger. With a startling bang and kick and a puff of smoke, the harpoon flew forwards. The barbed tip punched through Philomena’s breast with a wet smack, flickering embers and blood spilling from the wound.

Philomena screeched. She spasmed in the air, wings fluttering, and then she fell. Fluttershy gasped, diving off the edge of the platform and spreading her wings to catch the phoenix just before she fell into the water.

She landed messily at Rarity’s side, cradling the still phoenix in her forelegs. “Rarity! Get something!”

Rarity dropped the spent harpoon gun, ripping the last of her cloak off her shoulders and spreading it out on the ground. Fluttershy hurriedly set Philomena down on top of it, reaching out with one hoof and gingerly stroking her face.

“I’m sorry,” she said. Tears welled in her eyes, but her voice was firm. “It had to be done.”

Philomena let out a quiet squawk, her scarred face looking up at the eclipse, and crumbled into ashes.

Fluttershy pursed her lips, carefully catching the bloody harpoon and pulling it out of the pile of ashes before wrapping them up in Rarity’s cloak. She looked up to the sky, then down, meeting Rarity’s wide eyes.

“She did it.” A tentative smile pulled at her lips as she lifted the bundle of ashes and hugged it to her chest.

Rarity nodded, an adrenaline-fueled laugh escaping from her lips. “And j-just in time!”

Both mares flinched as the deck lurched beneath them, nearly tossing them into the rising water. The fires were dying down now, but they weren’t out of danger yet.

“Let’s get out of here.” Rarity looked up, waving to Jester. “Do you have a rope, darling?”





Rainbow lay on her side with one shaky hoof held over the bloody dressing on her chest.

The command room of Prince Argent’s ship was eerily still compared to the bloody violence that had stormed through it only minutes before. The thin wisps of snow drifting through the shattered glass were the only source of motion or sound.

Rainbow had never contemplated the possibility of her own death. She knew that ponies died, of course. She’d become more than intimate with the fact since the world’s ending.

But herself? Through everything, even when she’d stared down the maw of a huge sea serpent in the Everfree Forest, when she’d felt Gava’s talons sink into her flesh for the first time, when she’d raced through the flames engulfing Altalusia as Twilight lost her mind, the idea that she might not be around to see the dawn had never crossed her mind. Dying was a thing that happened to other, less awesome ponies. Rainbow might get hurt, but she always got back up again.

“Boss?” Trails said quietly. She leaned against the submarine wedged askew into the middle of the room, one hoof twisting anxiously side to side. “I’m scared.”

“You’ll be fine, Trails,” Sabre said. “Argent will honor the deal, and you’ll find a new contract. You’ll be fine.”

Rainbow’s chest tightened. She was painfully aware of Sabre’s choice of words. You’ll be fine.

The waiting was torture. Rainbow could face anything when it came at her, but she hated waiting. It made her thoughts wander to dark, vicious corners, accusing her of ruining everything, of getting ponies she cared about hurt. Her feelings towards Sabre were complicated, but she respected the mare. She didn’t deserve the burden of dealing with Rainbow’s actions. And what of the crystal ponies, who had taken her in so warmly, fighting an impossible battle against an enemy she’d unwittingly led straight to their home?

Clenching her jaw, Rainbow rolled onto her belly and struggled to her hooves.

“Whoa, now,” Flint said, sidling up next to her. “Where ye think yer goin’?”

“The window,” Rainbow croaked, nodding her head towards the front of the room. “I want to s-see the crystal ponies.”

He nodded, staying at her side to support her as she slowly crossed the room, broken glass crunching underhoof.

There was a storm coming in. A thin haze of swirling snow filled the air, clouding the horizon and turning the Crystal Spire and the surrounding mountain peaks into distant shadows. The Crystal Heart was still visible, locked together with Prince Argent’s second ship—the Brasher, as the now-dead captain of the Hoplite had called it. Through the haze Rainbow could just make out the flash and pop of gunfire, but it was distressingly scattered. She bit her lip, watching in silence for what felt like an eternity as the shots tapered off more and more before going completely silent.

“Hoplite, Brasher.” A radio towards the back of the control room buzzed to life. Rainbow closed her eye, dreading what would come next. “The natives are pacified. Nothing useful on their ship. We’re rigging it to blow.”

Flint sighed. Trails let out a quiet, “No.” Sabre was silent. A quiet shame filled Rainbow’s breast as she imagined Beau and his fellow hunters, fighting a hopeless battle to defend their home and their new friends. Did they fight to the end? Surrender? Would they be thrown into cells or just shot where they stood?

If only she’d been faster, more focused, she could’ve made it there unwounded and in time to help them. Rainbow pursed her lips, taking her shame and holding it close. She would remember the feeling. She’d use it to fuel her in the future.

“Good work, Brasher,” Prince Argent’s voice crackled in response. “Rendezvous with the Hoplite and transfer your marines. The Argo crew is currently contained on the bridge.”

“Wilco, Hoplite. Brasher out.”

When Rainbow opened her eye, the Brasher was already separating from the Crystal Heart. She didn’t cry. Instead she imagined wrapping her hooves around Prince Argent’s throat and squeezing until he popped.

“They put up a good fight,” Flint said, the bass of his voice causing his side to vibrate against hers. “Ain’t a bad way t’ go out.”

“They were our last chance,” Sabre said. Rainbow heard her walking closer, but she didn’t look away from the Crystal Heart’s silhouette. “We should surrender while we still can.”

“Just like that?” Rainbow’s voice cracked, her throat tight. She strained to suck in another breath past the pressure in her chest, forcing her words out. “So they die for nothing?”

There was a long pause before Sabre answered. “Most ponies die for nothing,” she said. “I know what you’re feeling, Rainbow. But they wouldn’t want you to do the same.”

Rainbow gnashed her teeth. She hated it. The tone in the older mare’s voice, as if she were speaking to a confused foal. She hated everything. “We should wait—as long as we can.” She couldn’t tell if the pain was coming from her punctured lung or her aching heart. Even the thought of surrender made her hate herself.

Sabre sighed. “A little longer, then.”

“Hoplite, Brasher. Controlled det in three, two, one. Fire in the hole.”

A tiny, flickering spark burst into being next to the Brasher. It raced through the air in a lazy, drooping arc, crossing the distance to the Crystal Heart and then disappearing from view. A second later the defeated ship was silhouetted by a series of rapid explosions, the hull cracking and splitting with a sound like shattering glass. The pieces fell to the thick ice below, landing with distant thuds.

“Maybe they took prisoners?” Trails asked hopefully. “There’d be no point in killing anyone that surrendered.”

Flint grunted. “Maybe.”

Again the room fell silent. Rainbow felt like a statue, staring stiffly at the Brasher as its outline grew gradually larger. She grunted, retching up a mouthful of blood before spitting it onto the floor. The haze grew thicker as the storm strengthened, blocking out the noon sun and casting the room into shadow.

A tingle traveled up Rainbow’s spine.

She frowned, finally tearing her gaze away from the approaching ship and looking around. 

Trails stiffened and shivered, reaching up and pulling her helmet off with a quiet hiss of steam.“Did you guys feel that?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“Aye,” Flint rumbled. He narrowed his eyes, checking each of the doors in turn. “I felt it, too.”

“Stay alert,” Sabre said, placing her back against a wall.

The shadows began to move.

It happened so slowly that Rainbow didn’t notice at first. One moment she was scanning the room, sucking in short, wheezing gasps of air, and then she realized the shadows were getting longer. Darker. They crept across the floor, taking on hard edges and menacing points. The whole room suddenly went dark as night, the only light coming from a few lanterns slowly swaying from the ceiling.

Trails flicked on the lights from her suit, playing the beams over the room. “Guys?” She asked nervously. “What in Luna’s name is going on?”

Rainbow’s eye widened. She whirled back to the window, squinting up, trying to spot the sun through the mounting blizzard.

Instead of a bright circle of light, she saw a ring.

“She did it,” she whispered, her lips twitching up into a bloody grin. She fell back onto her haunches as her hooves began to tingle, clammy sweat clinging to her coat. “I knew she would do it.”

“Hoplite, Brasher.” The voice on the radio sounded anxious. “Are you—are you seeing this?”

“Stay focused, Brasher,” Prince Argent answered. “We know there’s Gifted among the Argo’s crew.”

“Roger, Hoplite. Staying on—”

The transmission cut off with a burst of static. Through the haze, Rainbow saw the Brasher’s silhouette suddenly turn sharply to one side. Through the windows lining the ship’s side she caught glimpses of a tiny ball of white light, zipping from point to point like a shooting star. She heard gunfire and distant shouts, the flashes outlining ponies for brief seconds before going dark.

“Brasher?” Now Argent seemed nervous. “Respond.”

The Brasher didn’t respond. The little shooting star worked its way through the ship piece by piece, leaving silence and darkness in its wake. It began to drift to the side, a lifeless silhouette.

A beam of silvery light erupted from inside the ship, slicing through it from bow to stern. The twin envelopes burst into flames as the ship fell out of the sky, crumbling into burning pieces.

“It’s Princess Luna!” Rainbow’s mane whipped around her face as she turned to the others. She stumbled into Flint’s shoulder, coughing up another mouthful of blood. “I’m—I’m s-sure of it!”

“Take it easy.” Sabre frowned. “What are you saying?”

“Twilight must’ve—” Rainbow winced, clutching at the wound in her chest, but forced the next words out through the pain. “She’s awake.”

A second passed. Rainbow groaned, letting Flint take more of her weight.

“Sabre,” Flint started. “If an actual livin’ princess is about t’ descend from on-high and save us, I sure as hay ain’t gonna surrender.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Trails said, shaking her head. “You think Princess Luna just killed all the ponies on that ship? Like the goddess?”

“Just trust me!” Rainbow wheezed. She pushed away from the window, starting for the nearest door. “C’mon! We’ll take the fight to ‘em!” She made it a couple steps before her legs dropped out from under her, sending her toppling to the ground with a strained grunt.

“Hey, relax!” Trails was by her side in an instant, gently easing her off the floor and pressing a hoof over her wound. “I know you’re tough, Rainbow, but you took some serious damage here. You need to save your strength.”

“Whatever’s happening, she’s right we should take advantage of it,” Sabre said. “Trails, you help her. Let’s move.”

The team moved quickly. Sabre and Flint lined up against the door before rushing in, their armored hooves stomping against the metal stairs. Trails and Rainbow followed after, the pegasus coughing and groaning as she struggled to climb down the steps with Trails’ help.

It was almost pitch-black at the bottom of the stairwell, the lights on Trails’ suit the only source of illumination. Sabre’s lips were set in a hard line as she leaned against the wall next to the door, ear flicking.

“So what now?” Flint rumbled. “Do we just rush out n’ hope that ’Light’s pet goddess saves us?”

“That sounds like a terrible plan,” Trails hissed. “We should wait for Princess Luna to show up before we do anything.”

“Quiet,” Sabre said, cutting off Flint’s response.

The four ponies waited with bated breath, ears swiveling. Rainbow grit her teeth and slapped a hoof over her mouth, spitting out blood in between muffled coughs. She thought she could hear shuffling hooves or whispered voices through the wall, but it was so faint she wondered if she was imagining it. Her hooves shivered, cold creeping up her legs.

The lamp on Trails’ armored chest flickered. Trails looked down, tapping at the glass with quiet mutters as it slowly died. A second passed in total darkness before Rainbow felt a chill breeze caressing her legs, pulled towards something behind her.

“Rainbow Dash.”

Rainbow jumped. She twisted so fast she nearly fell from the pain in her chest.

Princess Luna was standing behind her, her dark coat blending into the shadows and her ethereal mane wafting around her in a halo of twinkling stars. The gentle glow of her mane reflected off dark wet spots in her coat, reeking of blood.

“Thou art wounded.” Luna’s horn glowed, her magic wrapping Rainbow in a wispy blue light. Rainbow gasped as the pressure in her chest tightened, then vanished, allowing her to suck in a deep breath for the first time in what felt like ages.

“I’m—heh.” Rainbow spat out one last mouthful of blood, grinning up at the Princess as her voice cracked. “I knew you’d show up.”

Luna offered a small smile, the expression quickly replaced by a grave frown. “If there be any souls aboard this vessel which thou valuest beyond the ones in this chamber—” her voice was cold and stern “—I bid thee tell me now.”

Rainbow blinked. After a moment she realized the Princess had asked her a question, and she dipped down into a deep bow, tears brimming in her eye.

“There aren’t any, Princess,” she said, her throat tight. “Kill them all.”

“Very well.” Luna’s horn brightened, the pale blue glow reflected in the eyes of the ponies around her. “I will return shortly.”

Her mane shifted, wrapping around her like a cloak. One second she was there, and then she was gone, melting into the shadows with only a few motes of dancing light in her place.

“Oh, stars,” Trails whispered. “She’s real.”

A shout from out in the hall drew their attention, followed by a burst of gunfire. Rainbow straightened up and pushed past the others, shoving the heavy metal door open and poking her head out.

Ten ponies lined the corridor, their backs turned to her. It was so dark Rainbow couldn’t even see the windows she knew were there, the only illumination coming from a few lamps strapped to the barrels of the ponies’ guns. They played their lights over the hall nervously, but they were swallowed up by an impenetrable wall of darkness on the far side, a trail of fresh blood leading into its depths.

“P-Prince?” One of the ponies asked, clutching at a bulky radio strapped to his side. “I think w-we need help!”

“What is it?” Prince Argent’s voice crackled back. “Quickly!”

Princess Luna’s eyes appeared out of the shadows, reflecting the light from the torches. Her horn began to glow a soft blue, a tiny white star of magic forming at the tip as she stepped closer.

The radio pony jumped, letting go of his radio and leveling his gun on the alicorn as his voice cracked. “Fire! Fire!”

One mare towards the front was able to get a shot off, the flash revealing Luna’s full form a brief fraction of a second. The bullet twisted mid-air, caught in the grip of the alicorn’s magic, and orbited around her before zipping straight back into the mare’s brow and exploding out the back of her head. She collapsed with a shocked grunt, dead in an instant.

Luna’s eyes shone with moonlight as every gun in the hall glowed, snapping from their saddle mounts and flying into a tightly spinning ball beside her. She inspected them with an unreadable expression, her head cocking slightly.

The stallion closest to her snatched up a spear in his wing, bellowing a warcry as he charged. He made it two steps before his spear was ripped away from him, twisting and stabbing straight into his eye as it glowed with Luna’s magic. It burst from the back of his head, continuing all the way through him and coming out the other side.

He fell to the ground, a hoof-sized hole drilled straight through his skull. The spear did a lazy twirl before coming back to rest at Luna’s side, the tip aimed at the eight surviving ponies watching in shock.

Luna jerked her head to the side. The wall dented, then groaned, before being peeled away with an ear-splitting screech, disappearing into the darkness outside as thick sheets of snow swirled into the hall. The bounty hunters cried out in panic, stumbling away from the sudden wind as Luna threw the ball of guns into the snowy void.

She jerked her head in the opposite direction, the bloodsoaked spear flying forward. It swept the legs out from under a stunned mare before snapping in two, the lower half impaling the mare through the gut and pinning her to the wall as she scratched at the floor in vain. The upper half darted towards the next pony, stabbing upwards through his jaw and twisting with enough force to snap his neck.

“Move!” the radio pony barked, grabbing his nearest subordinate and shoving her forwards. “Stop her!”

A stallion rushed up with a wild-eyed scream, only to gasp and keel forwards as Luna sliced his forelegs out from under him with an arc of silvery starlight from her horn. The mare next to him fell to her haunches, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“I surren—ghk!” A tiny mote of white magic zipped from Luna’s horn like a shooting star, punching through the mare’s forehead with enough force to throw her onto her back. It burst out the side of her head, bouncing between the skulls of three more gaping ponies in the span of a half second. They all hit the ground at once, one of the corpses sliding limply into the howling blizzard.

The white glow faded from Luna’s eyes. She walked past the scattered corpses, her hooves splashing through the warm blood and her mane rippling calmly despite the harsh wind, and came to a stop in front of the last survivor: the stallion with the radio, his hooves shivering as he clutched it against his chest.

Luna frowned down at him, a mote of starlight twinkling on the tip of her horn.

“Prince?” she asked.

The stallion stared dumbly for a few seconds before nodding, his breath shaky.

“Tell me his name,” Luna ordered.

“Pr-Prince Argent,” the stallion stammered. His eyes lit up as he licked his lips. “I c-can take you to h-him!”

Luna shook her head. “That shan't be necessary.”

The stallion’s eyes widened. He tried to turn to run just as the arcane star pierced his forehead, sending him crumpling to the floor.

The hall was still. Princess Luna turned, spotting Rainbow watching in awe, and nodded.

Her mane twisted around her as she melted into the shadows.