“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Fluttershy asked. She knew she’d asked the question many times before, but each and every time they opened a door or passed through an arch into another of the rooms-become-shops or houses, she had to press the issue or else go mad.
“Sugar, we’d be out of here by now if you’d quit fussing. I don’t like taking what ain’t ours any more than you do, but we don’t have much choice,” Applejack sighed, ducking her head through another door. The sign was written in a script neither of them understood, as was most of them, and the vast majority sold—as Applejack had so nicely put it—”trinkets and all kinds’a useless little prettifying baubles”. When the farmpony pulled back from this one, however, her cheeks were flushed, and it seemed she couldn’t close the door quickly enough.
“Um, is something wrong?” Fluttershy asked.
“Well, let’s just say we won’t be needin’ anything from that store,” Applejack stammered. “Sweet Celestia, I didn’t know ponies were into that sort of thing. Creepy ancient unicorns,” she added in a mutter.
“Oh,” Fluttershy squeaked, giving the door a wide berth as she followed Applejack. “Okay. Uh. Anyway,” she said, casting a glance into the tattered white linens of the saddlebags that sorely needed replacing. “We have flint and tinder—”
“Found in a curiosity shop, I might add,” Applejack snorted.
“—a large blanket that seems warm and waterproof—”
“I’m keeping that one when we get home, but I'd still like a proper tarp, too.”
“—some jars of proper, packed food that didn’t seem spoiled, and some crystals that glow when touched. I still wonder how long those will last,” Fluttershy finished, frowning at the hoof-sized pale white gemstones. She’d been forced to leave behind most of her grasses and other easily perishable goods when it became apparent Applejack wasn’t about to give up on a single one of her precious apples.
“Which leaves us needing a proper map, possibly a compass, and a clue as to where the hay we’re going, and—oh, here we are!” Applejack called, halting in her tracks as she passed a large doorless portal by. Fluttershy nearly collided with the grinning earth pony, but she swiftly followed when she realized what they had come across.
“Now normally, I ain’t much for clothes, but a good cloak or cape or something, that’d be a treat right now,” Applejack said as she happily trotted, almost bounced between the rows of racks and mannequins displaying all manners of fanciful dresses and hats. Fluttershy giggled and flapped her wings, flying after her as she took in the mercifully high-ceilinged fashion boutique in its entirety.
It was impossible not to think of Rarity, and indeed, Fluttershy imagined that the unicorn would have loved to see all these wonderful creations. High necks with gemstone studs, gradient accordion pleats, multi-colored taffeta affairs—and that was to say nothing of the hats! She was just about to fly closer to inspect a hat with some amazingly large feathers when she noticed Applejack had stopped.
“So, uh, since you’re up there and all, can you tell me which way the ‘useful clothes’ part of this store is?” Applejack asked, looking up at her.
“Oh. Um,” Fluttershy hummed, gliding a few lanes over to the side. “I, um. It... seems like it’s mostly dresses, but I do see some very nice shawls over by the hats.”
“Okay, so I guess we ain’t gonna find saddlebags here,” Applejack grumbled, picking her way through fanciful displays and frowning even at the simpler dresses. “Wait. A-ha. A bit fancy, but these’ll do!”
Fluttershy landed next to her, furling her wings as she peered into the bin Applejack was rifling through. In any other store less fancy, Fluttershy would have been tempted to say it was a sort of bargain bin, but the word ‘bargain’ seemed ill-fitting for long, embroidered cloaks that came from a bin that itself was gilded.
“Here, try that one on,” Applejack said, tossing a long flowing cloak over her head. The silver-colored thing landed half on top of Fluttershy, and the pegasus quickly slipped out of her saddlebags and began fastening the chest clasp.
“I wonder why they left so suddenly,” Fluttershy said, biting her lip as she struggled with the clasp. It was clearly designed to be fastened using precision magic, not by hoof under one’s neck when you could hardly even see.
“Weren’t that sudden,” Applejack protested, holding up a coarse dark brown cloak and nodding appreciatively. “The apartments—houses, whatever—the living quarters up on the gallery above didn’t exactly have a lot of stuff lying about. They were all clean. I mean, they weren’t just cleaned, but tidy. Almost like they were going on vacation.”
“Like they thought they would come back? That, or maybe somepony else has been cleaning,” Fluttershy suggested, finally rewarded with a little click of the cloak’s clasp hitching. “Does this look good?”
Applejack walked in a small circle and shook her body to let the cloak fall right around her own body, the pristine fabric rippling. She gave Fluttershy a lopsided smile at the question. “Ain’t much about how it looks unless we run across a random gala or something, but for it’s worth, you look great. Does it feel okay? I think yours is a little thicker than mine.”
Fluttershy nodded. Experimentally unfolding her wings under the fabric, she re-furled them and let it settle again before putting her saddlebags back on. “It’s fine. I think yours is a different type of wool.”
“If you say so,” Applejack nodded. “Let’s put these in our bags, then we’ll head down the stairs to the ground floor and go through the center door, see where it leads? We could spend an eternity just going through this quarter of the place collecting doo-dads, but we’re racking up an awful lot of questions here, and thinking about it, I wouldn’t mind a chance to try talking to this Castellan thinger again.”
“I guess,” Fluttershy said, unwilling to pretend at more enthusiasm than that. “He knows about Brighthoof, but he doesn’t really seem to like us.”
“It’s trying to talk to him, or wandering around forever, sugar,” Applejack said, leading the way out of the store. “Still, would you rather we do something else? Don’t mean to lead you by the nose here.”
“No, I know, we really need to find him,” Fluttershy sighed. In the warmth of the indoor city, desolate as though it was, it had taken less than a day to forget that outside, the world was just as deserted, and infinitely bigger.
Down the spindly stairs that led off the first-floor gallery awaited the one door that differed from the rest. Every door and portal, every pointless indoor awning, they were all different and personalized. Here, wood studded with gems, there, thin metal with elaborate carvings, but they had left alone the one large door that stood on the short wall opposite of the entrance hundreds of paces away—until now. It stood alone by virtue of being relatively plain; blue-painted wood with metal bracings where the other occupants of the massive city-quarter-hall were engaged in a shouting match for attention.
Applejack didn’t even break stride. No pause to talk, no discussion, and Fluttershy was glad for it. There was no time to consider what they’d find. Instead, Applejack led on, halting only to rear up on her hindlegs and give the barn-door-sized things a mighty push. With nary a sound they yielded, opening up into a gently curved hallway that stretched out to either side.
“Well, that’s a downer,” Applejack murmured as they both stepped into the large hall. The floor was covered in clear white stone tiles, and the same was true of the walls and ceiling, both sporting crystal lights that reflected off the surfaces to bathe the area in light. In the distance, before the curvature hid the rest of the hall, Fluttershy could see doors scattered along the outer wall, but none on the inner wall opposite.
“It’s really big, but, um, where do we go?” Fluttershy said, her voice loud to her ears just like the echo of her hooves.
“I’m no architect, but d’you reckon’ this hall goes all the way round? What if there are no doors heading in? It’s like a donut, then, big waste of space when you could’ve baked something with a filling instead of a hole. Like an apple pie.”
“We’d have to go around before we could say for sure,” Fluttershy replied. “Let’s go left?”
“Good as any direction,” Applejack agreed.
“You are heading where?”
Applejack and Fluttershy yelped and squeaked, respectively, as they scrambled away from the apparition suddenly standing between them. Almost invisible in the bright white glare of the hallway, the spectral unicorn was unmoving and emotionless.
“Next time, give us a warning, why don’t you,” Applejack grumbled, picking her hat up and brushing it off before planting it back atop her head.
“Well, we were looking for him, and it is his home,” Fluttershy countered, sketching a large circle around the creature to rejoin Applejack. “Um. Its home, I mean. Castellan’s. It’s a really pretty name.”
“What would you like to know?” the creature voiced in their minds. Applejack raised an eyebrow at Fluttershy, who, for her part, scuffed at the floor.
“That was easy,” Fluttershy said.
“Hold up. Why’n the name of the heavenly orchards should we suddenly be trusting you, huh?” Applejack asked, frowning.
“But we were the ones looking for him,” Fluttershy said.
“Sure, but that don’t mean I trust him yet.”
“Then I will earn such trust,” Castellan responded. Devoid of gestures or any meaningful inflection, it was a statement of intent, not a hopeful promise.
“Right,” Applejack said, clearing her throat.
“Okay, that sounds nice,” Fluttershy added. While the ghostly thing didn’t appear to be looking at anything in particular, her full saddlebags suddenly felt quite painfully visible. “We, um, borrowed some things from the shops. I hope you don’t mind.”
Another awkward silence passed. Fluttershy lay her ears flat and glanced off to the side while Applejack scratched at her nose.
“Well. So, answers, right? Let’s start off easy,” Applejack said. “Where’s everypony gone off to?”
“The people have left to go in search of a new home,” Castellan responded on cue.
“Um, we know where they went,” Fluttershy added.
“Yup, but our buddy here didn’t know we knew, so that’s one point for you,” Applejack said, dipping her head at the flickering shade.
“Oh. That’s really clever,” Fluttershy admitted.
Applejack grinned. “Thank you kindly. So, where are we? If you want to get us on our way, that’d be a good next step. What else you got?”
“The Dreamspire is all that is and all that I am. Six hundred and fifty six thousand five hundred and eighty sunrises after the last of kin left, I slept.”
“Uh. So, you divide by days in a year,” Applejack muttered. “Why can’t you speak plain?”
“Nearly two thousand years,” Fluttershy murmured. “I think. Did we wake you? For how long did you sleep?”
“My slumber ended when kin arrived.”
“Brighthoof?” Applejack asked.
“That was what he called himself. He arrived seventy—”
“Can you do that in years?” the farmpony pressed, rolling her eyes.
“Two hundred and six years ago.”
“That’s quite a while ago,” Fluttershy muttered. “I mean, not that it means anything, I think, but, um. No, I don’t really know what I had expected.”
“Beats two thousand years or more,” Applejack said, but it sounded like an agreement more than anything. “Right, so, you want us out of here?”
“Yes,” the apparition replied.
“Well, we’ve got food and all manner of fancy stuff. Where do you keep your maps? What do you know of the area around here? Guess you wouldn’t know where Equestria is, huh?”
“Maps were purged, as was my knowledge of them.”
Fluttershy blinked, as did Applejack. The words were as cold as the tone, and it filled her with a dreadful unease.
“Um, purged?” Fluttershy asked, but her words fell on deaf, spectral ears. The ghostly unicorn stood still, and half a minute passed in complete silence. Applejack didn’t look very pleased.
“Well, lot of help you’re being,” she said. “How about you tell us what this place is all about, then? We’ll judge whether or not anything can get us out of here.”
“The doors are still open. You should leave,” replied Castellan, and part of Fluttershy very much wanted to heed his words, even though she knew they couldn’t.
“That ain’t happening,” Applejack growled. “We ain’t leaving ‘till we know where we’re going, and I don’t reckon you can do much about that. Do you know where everypony went? A direction? If you don’t, might as well give us the tour.”
For once, the creature responded, starting down the hall with soundless steps. After a quick exchange of glances, the two ponies followed.
“The six quarters circle the outer spire,” the emotionless voice began. “Quartz, amethyst, ruby, emerald, diamond and finally, sapphire quarter, which is where you intruded.”
Fluttershy blushed, but Applejack merely snorted and rolled her eyes at that.
“I’m almost thinking this here thing has a sense of humor. That, or it’s actually peeved,” Applejack muttered.
“This hall itself circles the core of the spire, the sun chamber, which also holds the great library and other communal services not present in the quarters,” their ghostly guide continued as they passed a smaller door by. “The doors on the outer wall that do not lead to the quarters lead to the Underspire.”
“What’s in the Underspire?” Fluttershy asked, noticing a slight draft coming from the simple door.
“Actually, never mind that,” Applejack said. “Sun Chamber. That’s where Brighthoof was heading. I reckon that’s where he went first. How do we get in?”
“Brighthoof went to the Underspire. I would recommend you head there if you wish to find him,” came the reply, Castellan halting by the door and pausing for a second before adding, “Brighthoof is in the Underspire.”
“Weren’t what I asked,” Applejack said. “How do we get in there?” she asked, indicating the inner wall with a flick of her head.
“The book said he was looking for the Sun Chamber, we’d really like to go there,” Fluttershy said. “Maybe we can go to the other place afterwards?”
“You should go to the Underspire. Everything you seek is in the Underspire,” the ethereal voice echoed in their head.
Fluttershy looked at the door again. It was rather innocent in and by itself except for the cold air that seeped from underneath the small gap, but something about the whole business made her coat-hairs stand on end. She twisted a hoof in the ground and looked to Applejack, who was staring at Castellan’s empty eye sockets with a faint frown adorning her face.
“You’re a terrible liar,” Applejack declared. “Come on, Fluttershy.”
Trotting up to join Applejack as they continued down the brightly illuminated hallway, Fluttershy cast a single backwards glance at where Castellan stood still and silent facing the door he’d been trying to lead them through.
“What do you think is down there?” Fluttershy asked, keeping as close to Applejack as she could. Brightly lit and glamorous or no, the entire place was getting creepier by the minute.
“Don’t matter. He wants us down there, and we don’t want to go there if he wants us down there,” Applejack shrugged and shook her mane. “Castellan ain’t a pony, it’s a thing. It’s acting all, I don’t know, predictable-like. Reckon it’ll say anything to get us gone, so best I can figure is we do the exact opposite of what it tells us.”
Fluttershy nodded, and following the gentle curve of the hall, the spectre was soon lost to them. Another large door adorned the outer wall, a steel-framed wooden door with a large red gem in a socket above. They’d barely passed that door by, marching in silence, when the inner wall revealed a large opening. The large portal cut through the thick inner walls, as tall as the hallway and twice as wide, making Fluttershy feel very, very small.
“Well, this doesn’t make a lot of sense to me, so I wonder what the hay this Brighthoof was after,” Applejack murmured as she turned and forged ahead, the core of the spire opening up to them.
The entire inside of the spire’s core was one single chamber. The cone-shaped room was so tall that Fluttershy couldn’t quite make out the top where it tapered off, the true height hidden by some form of fog. Stone and wood galleries jutted out from the walls all the way up, wider at the base and following the gentle slope of the inside. The few platforms she could see from the ground floor were filled with bookcases, magical lights, seating areas, strange apparatuses and an amazing variety of other things. Where the galleries were an absolute mess, something that could easily have fit inside Twilight’s library on a particularly busy Sunday research session, the ground floor was almost entirely bare.
The lights that dotted the hollow spire were poor illumination compared to the almost painful glow that suffused all the other rooms, further hiding the detail of the taller parts, but the center was dominated by a single item. From the floor, a massive, irregular and craggy crystal shot up into the air, a milky white thing gently tapering as it disappeared out of sight far above.
“Well, that sure is something,” Applejack muttered as they moved through the dusky half-darkness. Their steps did very little to bring them closer; the room was massive, as was the crystal. With every step, the crystal column grew and the air opened up above them as they left the shadow of the lowest galleries.
“I guess that’s important,” Fluttershy said by way of agreement, unable to quite tear her eyes off the thing. It reflected the lights that dotted the galleries, making it look like thousands of fireflies were trapped within the confines of the unpolished crystal.
“Ain’t what we came for though,” Applejack said. “Why’s this called the ‘sun’ chamber anyway? This ain’t getting us nowhere.”
Craning her neck, Fluttershy smiled. The crystal was jagged and irregular near the base, and when they drew near, she spotted something atop a horizontal little arm. Without a word, she took to the air and flew over to collect what she’d seen. Applejack gave her an odd look as Fluttershy sailed back to rejoin her, but once she realized what the pegasus carried in her mouth, she gave a loud whoop.
“But this is!” Applejack cheered, knocking her hat back on her head. “Must be another one of Brighthoof’s books! Nice catch, sugar. Guess he must’ve figured this is the most likely place anypony’d find something he left behind, on account of how huge this place is.”
Fluttershy nodded, gently depositing the small hard-cover book on the floor. “But it doesn’t explain why he would want somepony to find it. He left the first one as a warning, so whatever’s in this one must be important.”
Applejack’s furrowed her brow, reaching down to flip the book open with a slightly more tempered enthusiasm. “Guess you have a point there,” she agreed. “Just gives us twice the reason to read it. Keep an eye out for any mention of a map or whatever. Alright. D’you want to read?”
“It’s okay if you want to read,” Fluttershy replied.
“And you ain’t just saying that ‘cause you think you’ll catch me doing funny voices again?”
Fluttershy giggled. “No, please.”
“Alright. So,” Applejack cleared her throat and leaned over the book. “I suspect this will be my last entry. My quest is an enormous failure, and my theory was wrong. The Sun Chamber never had anything to do with the Elements, and I have found nothing here that will be of assistance, nothing that will aid Princess Celestia in bringing her sister back. The crystal that lies at the center of the Dreamspire hides no great secret. It simplified the process of raising sun and moon back when this was the charge of the unicorns as a tribe. It is a tool, and it has no inherent power. Perhaps Princess Celestia herself would have been able to use it to some effect, but she will not cross the border. I know this. The Princess did not approve of my leaving Equestria to seek alternatives, but prophecies are flimsy things, and her trust in her own convoluted plans is unfounded. Then again, I am the one who is about to meet his end far away from home.”
Applejack paused to turn the page, and Fluttershy re-settled her wings. They were still alone, but it was hard to shake the feeling that they were being watched. Applejack continued.
“I was about to call it a loss and leave when I began noticing little things. The spirit of the place was helpful enough, but my suspicions were aroused when I tried looking for some maps in the libraries of the spire. I had hoped to compare the maps of the area with my own for some historical insights to prevent this whole journey from being a complete waste, but there were none to be found. The spirit, Castellan, confirmed this, but offered no further comment, nor would it explain why every single library, private or public, was missing volumes that were in the indexes. I estimate one in twenty books are simply gone, along with all forms of contemporary news and similar articles that the unicorns of old used.”
Turning the page again, Applejack frowned. “Well, at least it ain’t just us he’s being difficult with,” she murmured.
“I wonder what he’s hiding,” Fluttershy added, eliciting a shrug from Applejack before the earth mare continued.
“Piecing together the nature of the true secret of this place was a matter of finding out exactly what was missing, an exercise in reading between the lines, but I think I understand where reality differs from accepted history. Ancient pre-Equestrian history has always been an inexact affair, and given that Equestria is a nation the result of a large migration, there are limits to what local archaeology can discover. Here, in hidden diaries and journals, in book titles and even architecture, patterns emerge.”
“Commander Hurricane, Chancellor Puddinghead and Princess Platinum were not always the rulers of the three tribes, and certainly not before the tribes had their first meeting,” she read. Where Applejack merely raised an eyebrow and drew breath to continue, Fluttershy placed a gentle hoof on hers to stop her.
“Do—do you think we should really read this?” Fluttershy asked, licking her lips.
Applejack raised a brow. “It’s ancient history, sug’. It don’t matter none, and we know Brighthoof had a map, so we gotta see where he went, right?”
“Right,” Fluttershy echoed, swallowing.
“The leader of the unicorns used to be called queen, or, in the case of a stallion, king. I had always wondered why these titles were common in other nations, but our leader had always held the title of ‘princess’. I now know why. Their names and titles were purged. Stripped. Everything pertaining to these three has been destroyed with ruthless care and precision. While the ruins of the pegasus society are long gone, and the earth ponies have let their cities decay, what I have found here in the Dreamspire confirms that this was a joint effort by exactly those three. Hurricane, Puddinghead and Platinum worked together to overthrow the old leaders.”
“What I learned at the meeting grounds weeks ago is key here. After the tribes opened communications and the fortress was erected, the alicorns surfaced shortly after, born to ponies of all tribes. Starswirl’s theory was that they were a direct result of the harmony budding between the tribes in those days.”
Applejack whistled and nudged Fluttershy in the side before licking her hoof and turning the page. “Reckon that means you were right, huh?”
“I, um, guess,” Fluttershy murmured, blushing a bit. “So they’re born when things are harmonious? The opposite of the windigoes, almost.”
“It’s inconsequentia, but this info was collateral damage, stricken from the records along with the fact that the leaders, as one, became jealous of the alicorns. The alicorns were considered a good sign, holy at best, lucky at worst. While they were not initially organized, they were all loved, and that caused the leaders to grow resentful. What’s more, the alicorns had an affinity for the Elements. They could never be bearers of the Elements as we understand it, but the Elements interact with harmony, and so, too, the Elements are linked as the alicorns are children of harmony.”
“I am not sure what the leaders did initially, but efforts to unify the tribes were by and large headed by the alicorns. I cannot decide whether or not this is because harmony is in the blood of the alicorns, but that may be because in modern Equestria, this is rather unremarkable. I am no student of social sciences, but we all seek to coexist because of how our society works. It is second nature to us, now. All the same, ultimately, these efforts failed. All the tales tell the same story here, and they seem to be right. The tribes were not mature enough, for lack of a better word, to cooperate, and that resulted in the windigoes. Starswirl foretold of their coming and tried to stop it, first with politics, then with his own creations, but it was too little too late. As a last ditch effort, he persuaded the current bearers of the Elements to cooperate with the alicorns to try to stave off wintry doom.”
“There were other bearers before us?” Fluttershy asked.
“Seems so,” Applejack said, puffing out her cheeks. “This is nice and all, but it still won’t get us home. Let’s see what else it says.”
“The leaders saw their chance to end what they saw as the ‘alicorn threat’ at this moment. As the bearers were ponies bound to the rule of their tribe, they obeyed their leaders’ commands when they were called home. With harmony between the tribes dying in conflict, and separated from the Elements—I believe the Elements of Harmony’s own unity sustained the alicorns for a while—the last of the alicorns perished.”
“Oh no,” Fluttershy whispered, covering her mouth with a hoof. Even Applejack seemed put off, pausing as she reached to flip the page.
“This here is vile stuff,” she growled.
“The next chain of events I found reported in a well-hidden and hastily scrawled diary, and as far as I can tell, it fits. As the six Elements of Harmony left the fortress, the Elements forsook their unworthy bearers. The seconds-in-command of the tribes met in secret soon after, and, feeling terrible about what had transpired, agreed that they would work together to seize control of their own tribes and depose their corrupt rulers. Following this, they would go their separate paths, never to meet again for fear of more tragedy. They succeeded, but it was too late. The winter had settled, and life was being choked from the area.”
“Except, the alicorns were not done. The last of them had one final card to play before she died. To each of the tribes, an alicorn by the name of Brokenhorn the Farsighted sent word. Each of the new leaders received a letter believing they alone had gotten this message telling them of a wonderful new place. Of Equestria. This is where the tale rejoins what we know. The tribes all migrated separately, and ended up in what is now our fair nation. Exactly how much of the resulting quarrel is accurate, I cannot say, but I have a theory of my own.”
“Brokenhorn,” Applejack murmured, tapping the side of her head.
“The last stone back in the earth pony ruins?” Fluttershy suggested, the images of each and every obelisk still burned into her mind. “Maybe that’s what the jagged thing was—a broken horn?”
“That adds up,” Applejack said, nodding. “Well, let’s hear his theory then.”
“If harmony alone is a separate force, I believe the events of the old story that’s simplified and played every Hearth’s Warming Eve may be correct down to the last detail except that it doesn’t touch upon the results of that one fateful night. It is the first true moment of acceptance, of friendship and unification. It brings me to think of our princess. She is not mentioned anywhere, and it is said that every single alicorn perished. I believe that Princess Celestia and her sister, the exiled Princess Luna, were born that night. The princess has, to my knowledge, never answered any question regarding her own birth—or creation, for those who believe she is indeed a goddess.”
“I believe the immense harmony at work that moment resulted in a union that birthed the most powerful ponies our world has ever seen. It follows that they are true children of harmony. Normal alicorns in Equestria these days are a rare enough sight; I know of only three, and they are all enormously affectionate individuals. In the case of Princess Celestia, and presumably her sister, they obey the rules of their kind more strictly. They are bound by harmony. The more I think about it, the more I believe her instincts were right.”
A good half minute passed in silence. They were the last words on that page, but Applejack made no move to read on.
“Not sure what to think about that,” Applejack finally said. “D’you suppose they’re hiding something, too? The princesses?”
“They haven’t lied, at least not that I’ve heard,” Fluttershy said, still trying to wrap her brain around all this. “It’s not lying if you don’t know, and maybe even Princess Celestia doesn’t know everything, after all.”
Applejack sighed and nodded. “Maybe it’s that simple, but I don’t like it much.”
Turning the page to the book’s final written page, a folded piece of cloth fell out from between the covers. Fluttershy reached over to carefully unfold it while Applejack read on. As the farmpony read, Fluttershy only half listened. The little piece of canvas was a map.
“I wish I had the chance to ask Princess Celestia about this, but as I left without her blessing, I do not have high hopes for anypony looking for me. Even if it was in a misguided attempt to aid her efforts to bring her sister back, I expect I will never return. What I have discovered here in the past week roaming the Dreamspire has damned me. It is becoming increasingly obvious that Castellan was a creation of Princess Platinum herself, and while I at first thought it a guardian to ward off those not of her tribe, I understand now that it guards the very secret I have discovered. That the windigoes are gone, that Starswirl the Bearded was experimenting on harmony, these are all inconsequential before this truth.”
Fluttershy spread her wings and beamed as she scanned the map, looking for something, anything familiar, but Applejack’s voice was wavering now. She looked over to find the farmpony visibly paling as she read on.
“I write this down because I am confident it does not know how to read Equestrian, but it will have figured out that I know. The knowledge of the old betrayals and of the three tribe leaders’ plans is lethal. In here, I am no match for the spirit. I have learned that the lower spire was where the tribe farmed mushrooms and crystals in ancient times, and I suspect that the spirit is weaker down there, away from the seat of power that is the Sun Chamber. Most likely, it is a deathtrap filled with all manner of beasts, now. My mission has failed, and I am doomed because of a secret that has no importance beyond the historical. I leave behind my journal here that others may learn without arousing suspicion, and will collect it if I overcome Castellan. Signed, Brighthoof, Former Captain of the Guard, loyal subject to her royal highness, Princess Celestia.”
Once Applejack finished, every single light in the room winked out as one. Fluttershy’s heart hammered in her chest. She reached out to touch Applejack, who did the same.
“Right, so, next time we both read it all quiet-like,” Applejack whispered.
“You cannot leave.”
The voice was as dispassionate as ever. With its usual and disconcerting lack of sound, the spectre of Castellan appeared in front of them. The smoky white shape was clearly visible in the near-complete darkness, yet it gave off no light.
“Just because we read something we shouldn’t?” Fluttershy asked, her breath coming faster and faster. “That’s not fair! You—you can’t—”
“The door was open, now it is closed. You cannot leave,” came the answer. Fluttershy felt Applejack’s hoof leave her as she stepped in front. There was no light beyond what little filtered in through the mysterious fog high above, but she could see the farmpony draw herself up.
“That’s a load of hooey. We don’t care nothing about what happened and what didn’t. It’s ancient history, and nopony gives a hoot. Far as I am concerned, Platinum and the others did good.”
“This is my task. It is my purpose. You do not leave,” Castellan retorted.
“Well then, good luck stopping us,” Applejack spat, stomping the ground. “Close the doors, I buck’em down!”
A faint rumble echoed down the thick stone hallways and into the inner chamber, bouncing off the very walls until the very stone growled and shook under their hooves. For long seconds, the galleries creaked, bookshelves groaned and glasswork clattered before silence once more settled in the darkness.
“That is within your power, but it is pointless when the bridges are gone,” Castellan countered.
“Right,” Applejack said. “And you didn’t do this when we were standing on the bridge, why? Just because we didn’t know, and now we do?”
“Applejack, we really need to move,” Fluttershy tried.
“It would have failed. Your natures, your capacities and limitations are now known to me. I have observed and seen into your minds, and this is your end. The secret will be kept,” the spirit replied.
“Oh that’s just dandy. You been listening in? You’re a really creepy little ghost, you know that? Ever heard of giving mares some privacy?” Applejack snapped.
“Applejack!” Fluttershy cried, giving her tail a tug. “We need to go!”
Finally, Applejack turned, shaking her head briskly. “Right. Right, okay,” she muttered. “Think you can fly across?”
“I don’t think so. It was very far,” Fluttershy admitted, casting a nervous glance at the spectral unicorn. Castellan didn’t appear to be doing anything, but his presence was hardly helping her nerves.
“Right, and the whole cellar door, Underspire, whatever it is, that sounds like a bad idea if Brighthoof never came back from there,” Applejack said, scratching her head through her hat and shifting on the spot.
“Do you feel that?” Fluttershy asked. It had been quiet and low, a groan and the faintest of shudders. Applejack’s eyes were big as dinner plates when the second tremor hit.
“The secret will be kept. This is the end of my service,” Castellan stated, the spirit simply winking out of existence as the floor beneath their hooves cracked.
“You’re serious,” Applejack breathed as the very foundation of the spire shook. “You’re ruining everything just to keep us from telling?”
“The secret—” the voice began, no doubt to repeat itself, but Applejack blocked it out. None of it made sense, and her legs wouldn’t move. Only when Fluttershy put a hoof on each of Applejack’s shoulders and leaned on her did she manage to focus.
“I know. Going,” Applejack said in response to the unvoiced words. “But where? We can’t go out, and we can’t go down!”
Fluttershy let go and chewed on her cheek for a moment. Somewhere above, glass shattered and shelves toppled.
“Up. We have to go up,” Fluttershy said. It was impossible to say what went on in the mare’s head and the darkness hid her face well, but she sounded resolved. Fluttershy bent low to pick up Brighthoof’s journal, putting it on top of the saddlebags.
“Right. Up. Can’t see nothing though, so that makes things harder,” Applejack said, raising her voice so she’d be heard over the growing din. No sooner had she said it than did a soft light surround them. Glowing crystal gripped in her mouth, Fluttershy motioned towards a nearby staircase that led up to the first gallery. In a race started by an unspoken signal, they both galloped towards it.
Their hooves thundered against the ancient woodwork, up the flight of stairs and barely pausing to find the next. Applejack followed as Fluttershy led the way between bookcases and tables all in search of the next set of stairs.
“Do you have a plan?” Applejack called.
“I hope pho’!” Fluttershy replied around the crystal in her mouth, casting her a glance.
A great thunderclap filled the air, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Applejack smacked her head against a table and lay flat on the floor dazed for a second. Head against the wooden floorboards, she was treated to a worm’s eye view of all her apples rolling out of her saddlebag-pouches to plunge off the gallery.
“Forget about the apples!” Fluttershy cried, scrabbling to stand. Applejack took her offered hoof and hurried back onto all fours, galloping after her. Only when they were two stories up did she realize what was going on, casting a quick glance over the railing. Despite the darkness below, she could see a huge rent in the floor below approaching the crystal at the chamber’s centre. The crystal itself was tilting slightly to one side.
“They rolled off,” Applejack said. “They rolled. The entire place is falling! Mountains shouldn’t fall!”
“I know!” was Fluttershy’s only reply, the pegasus dodging and weaving between fallen furniture as she ran. Up they went, past library floors where bookcases and shelves spilled their contents as if they were trying to bar their way and past open leisure floors with nothing but sofas and lounges. It was all a blur, a dreamlike dash in the darkness, a chase after a snip of pink tail carrying the only light in sight.
The floors were getting smaller. It was gradual and subtle at first, but where the lowest gallery had been a sweeping library, the circular and open room-like floors were now hard pressed to fit much more than a few token pieces of furniture. Soon, the only thing offered by the next floor up was shelves along the walls and a thin walkway to the next staircase. How many of these stairs had they mounted? Every so often, a deep and distant boom reminded them of their haste. Applejack’s heart was beating madly, and more than once did she and Fluttershy stumble. Finding purchase was getting harder and harder as the entire chamber impossibly and obscenely began to tilt. Applejack leapt a small sofa as it lurched past.
It was getting harder to see, as well. In the space of two flights of bare galleries adorned with nothing but tiny window-slits, they’d plunged into some sort of fog. The temperature suddenly dropped, but before Applejack could even start to think what was causing this, they were through. It wasn’t worth the breath to comment. The last flight of stairs landed them on a fully closed platform, the only feature of which, aside from a spiral staircase, was the tip of the crystal shooting through the wooden floor and past the stone ceiling overhead.
A crystal that even now moved, slowly but surely chewing through the wood and cracking the stone overhead. The white crystal rod, thin as though it was up here, was digging through stone and wood alike, and it was tilting in the exact direction of the next staircase.
“Keep running!” Applejack yelled, galloping for the stairs.
“I know!” Fluttershy sobbed as she ran. “I know!”
The cracking and grinding of stone from far below was growing still. Applejack couldn’t help but stare at the crystal that still tilted ominously towards the stairs they now climbed, and for a moment she feared they wouldn’t actually make it. She felt the wood crack and fall under her hooves and opened her mouth to scream, to make a noise, anything. Something latched on to her, and the world fell away beneath her.
Fluttershy had caught her. Applejack’s rear was dangling off an edge that hadn’t been there a moment ago. She stared, transfixed, at where the crystal column had tore a portion of the spire away. For a second she wondered why there was no noise, but only until she became aware of the faint whine that filled her head. She looked up at Fluttershy. The pegasus was gripping her forelegs with her own with all her might, and her muzzle was moving, but there were no words. Everything was eaten by that insistent yet quiet whining noise. Reaching up to tap her ears would probably be a bad idea.
The world was very small. She was clinging to Fluttershy, dangling off a broken little tower. All around them, the world was white. A permanent cloud-layer that ate the world, and the broken spire poked up past it, a small speck of masonry sandwiched between clear blue skies and puffy white clouds. In the distance, a few peaks mimicked the Spire’s feat, but they were far and few between.
“Applejack. Applejack!”
Applejack tried to both shake her head and nod at the same time as sounds returned. There was a terrible ruckus underneath, but Fluttershy broke through it, and finally, Applejack got a leg up on the lip of the tower, scrambling to safety and flopping onto her back.
The top of the tower was bare. Once, the crystal would’ve poked past, but it, and the stairs, were gone. It was grey stone with neither railing nor embellishments. Once Applejack was back on all fours, she had to struggle to remain standing. Even this little island of stone was no sanctuary, tilting to the side and into the cloud layer as if though a sullen foal had tired of its toys and were toppling them over.
“We’re not out of it yet!” Applejack called, trotting up to where Fluttershy was peering over the edge. “Sugar, you ready?”
“I don’t know if I can do it,” Fluttershy whimpered.
“You have to! It’s all we’ve got. We fly off of here, or we’re done!”
“I—I know,” came the reply. Fluttershy turned to look at her, and the fear was plain in her eyes. The pegasus’ wings were clamped tight to her body, and her pupils were pinpricks. Below, another roaring boom assaulted their ears. Applejack steadied herself as the spire shuddered, and Fluttershy’s legs trembled.
“It’s just so high, and with the extra weight and not knowing if we’ll crash into something—look at all the clouds! They could be hiding anything!” Fluttershy said, the words tumbling over one another while she struggled to spread her wings. “I’ll try, but—”
Applejack put a steadying hoof on Fluttershy’s withers. She tried to smile and pretend that they had time for this.
“I’d like to tell you to do it for yourself, but I don’t know if that’s what you need,” she said, leaning over to make sure Fluttershy’s saddlebags were closed as securely as the makeshift things allowed.
“Just hop on and hold tight,” Fluttershy said, taking a few deep breaths, furling her wings.
“Sugarcube, listen!” Applejack snapped. “I believe in you, you know that, right?”
Fluttershy cast another nervous glance over the edge. The tilt was getting obscene. Applejack ignored it, steadied her legs and put a hoof under Fluttershy’s snout, guiding her until she looked into her eyes. Reluctantly, Fluttershy nodded.
“That’s great,” Applejack nodded back. “But that don’t mean enough. Maybe I didn’t always think you had it in you. Maybe I was a right fool. Proving me wrong, that’s great, but I don’t want you to do that. Right now, we’re gonna fly on out of here because you’re gonna do it for Rainbow Dash.”
Fluttershy blinked at that. Another great shudder wracked the tower, but Applejack did not budge, holding herself and Fluttershy fast. For a moment Applejack feared she’d said exactly the wrong thing at the wrong time, but she leaned forwards until their snouts touched, her voice a hiss as she finished.
“The way I see it, she’s the one who’s always believed in you. She’s the one who’s always thought you could do it, whatever ‘it’ ever was. We’re gonna be okay because you’re gonna prove her right.”
A moment of silence passed, a blissful reprieve from the cacophony below during which nothing seemed to move. With painful slowness, Applejack waited and watched as Fluttershy stared back at her. The pegasus’ pupils dilated, her jaw going slack as she nodded once, then once more, and spread her wings in earnest.
Applejack swung herself atop Fluttershy with as much gentleness as haste allowed. Fluttershy sagged under her weight as the earth mare lay her belly atop her back and wrapped her forelegs around her neck. She could feel Fluttershy take a deep breath before she broke into a gallop, her run slowing as the tower tilted. Fluttershy leapt off the edge of the spire just as something below broke, the floor disappearing beneath her as she kicked off.
Applejack’s stomach lurched as they dropped, and Fluttershy changed the angle of their descent. It lurched a second time when they both cast a backwards glance and saw the spire upon which they had stood mere seconds ago crumble. Rock disintegrated, masonry dissolved along the seams, and the grey mass of stone scattered, falling through the puffy clouds. A second later, the sound of a dozen avalanches hit them all at once. Applejack lay her ears flat.
“Did you get a good look at the map?” Applejack yelled, clinging to Fluttershy. Though she was resting her head against her neck, it was hard to tell if she could be heard over the wind.
“A little,” Fluttershy replied. “We need to go east.”
“And we’re flying opposite of the sunset, so that’s all good,” Applejack replied with a sigh of relief. She cast another backwards glance, but there was nothing to see, now, and the clouds below were closing on them fast. “Can’t believe the whole place is gone,” she murmured.
“No,” Fluttershy agreed.
“You okay there sugar?” Applejack asked. “You’re being awfully short.”
“Yes,” Fluttershy squeaked. “Hold on!”
“Uh—” was all Applejack had time to say before they plunged into the clouds. Two seconds later, a huge dark shape materialized in front of them. With a wordless cry, Fluttershy banked hard to the right, and Applejack clung on for her dear life as more and more mountains and peaks rose up to meet them. Fluttershy banked and dove, twisted and turned, and Applejack couldn’t find the time or breath to even yell or scream. All was a white and senseless bright void filled with looming shapes that whisked by so fast, she refused to even think of what would happen if Fluttershy slipped up even once.
And she didn’t. The pegasus said nothing, expertly navigating everything the mountains threw at them. After the most terrifying half minute of Applejack’s life, a stretch that felt like a separate eternity in a very special hell, they were through the clouds. The cloud-layer loomed overhead now, but it was thinning rapidly towards the horizon. Though Fluttershy was still tense underneath her, major wing-muscles so taut that even Applejack noticed, the mountains weren’t half so scary when they could be seen.
Applejack could hear Fluttershy’s labored breathing even over the rush of air as they sailed for long minutes that stretched on and on. The cold bit on her coat, but she didn’t want to speak for fear of disturbing Fluttershy. The pegasus’ ears were flat and her eyes forward as they glided down and ever down, faster than Applejack would have liked. The clouds thinned above, the mountain peaks became low mountains, which again became hills. Out of the craggy mountains, the world opened up, a tapestry of colors, blotches that grew and gained definition. The endless blue to their south, the hills and mountains behind and to their north all was drowned out by the mass of green ahead.
What had once been another feature in the distance like any other, nothing but a shape and a color, rapidly became a forest. Far, far too rapidly at that. Applejack clenched her jaw as they picked up speed and Fluttershy’s wings began trembling. In the corner of her eye, she swore she could see a feather torn off, lost to the winds.
“Oh my goodness, oh my goodness,” Fluttershy whispered over and over.
“Look out!” Applejack called. As they brushed by a particularly tall tree, Fluttershy kicked out and tried flapping her wings to brake and stop their descent, but the crash was inevitable. Applejack shut her eyes just as the next tree rose to greet them.