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// Chapter 37: Low-Speed Collision 
// Story: Sisters of Willowbrook 
// by Starscribe 
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Iris Vale had received rude visits from the Lightless Star before. They were the only group of ponies that considered themselves above the law in Equestria. Technically, maybe they were. They represented the True Gods after all, instead of the shallow court of traitors who had replaced them in dominion over Equestria. One day the modern government would be dismantled, and only those who had remained loyal to the world's real rulers would remain.

The cult did not care to wait that long to inherit its power, though. In Willowbrook, they operated as though they had already been ruling for many years. The Lightless Star's Watcher could send his Inquisitors to her home whenever he wanted, and there was nothing she could do about it.

At least Watcher had the personal power to back it up. It felt a little better to be bullied by somepony who could put some force behind their words, instead of a petty bookkeeper or bureaucrat for Equestria.

Or her husband.

She didn't even discover they had arrived at her home, not until somepony banged loudly on her office door. She looked up from her work, horn dimming slightly. Her complex casting fizzled and sparked away, leaving a trail of glowing metal shavings. It landed on her desk, then scorched the precious zebrawood, a fine trickle of smoke rising from in front of her.

She bit her lip, preparing for a serious lecture on politeness for whatever servant thought it was okay to so rudely interrupt her. But then the door banged open, and the words died stillborn on her lips.

Had they worn their robes all the way here, masks and all? Three of them, each fully dressed. She didn't know a single one of the Inquisitors by name—they were not locals of Willowbrook, and thus not subject to retribution from members of the cult they were used to discipline.

Watcher's most powerful weapons. The way he kept order in the household of the true gods.

Iris rose from her chair at once, lowering her head exactly far enough to satisfy decorum. Behind them, she could see a small crowd of her household staff, all hovering near the entrance. They had probably tried to stop this intrusion with whatever tools they had. It made little difference.

But she wouldn't blame them for it. This force exceeded all of their power.

"Lady Vale, your presence is required at once. You will come with us."

She bit back the snide retort she really wanted to give them. If Watcher wanted her, he could send a single Witness with a scroll asking for her arrival. This was putting on a show for her own household. It was a reminder of power for all who saw.

This wasn't the first time that Watcher had showed her this kind of rudeness. Ever since she insisted on sparing Lilac and Firefly from their “return” to banishment, she had drawn the leader's ire. This was probably just his latest bold way to remind everyone who was in charge.

"Shall I bring Lilac Empathy along? She should be in the library at this hour, we can stop for her."

"She is already with the Watcher," said one Inquisitor. "This meeting is about her."

Several disconnected factors all fused together in a blink. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the... earthquake, would it?"

The masked inquisitors turned to each other, though they said nothing. Even so, it was all the answer she needed.

"We will tell you nothing. Inquire of the Watcher, and he will decide what information you are worthy to receive." It didn't matter how little they wanted her to know, she could already guess.

She figured out a little more as she dressed, and joined them for the trip to her carriage waiting outside. The steward had probably guessed what would be required of them, so the carriage and its crew was already waiting for them.

She could think of many possible sources of an incongruous earthquake. To involve Lilac Empathy, they must be connected to her earth pony magic. She had the potency of half a dozen ponies working together, if she really wanted to. That was the power of the True Gods, even manifested in an imperfect, fractured form.

But as they rode, the Inquisitors didn't take her to some open field, with the stink of wild magic thick on the air. Unseasonal growth hadn't choked off whole farmer's fields, when earth pony magic went wild. There was no visual sign at all that something was wrong.

Nor did they travel somewhere that an earth pony would choose to use their powers in that way. Instead, they rode directly back towards downtown Willowbrook.

Until they reached Cyan Mine, and the carriage came to an abrupt stop. They disembarked, all three of them in their robes and masks now. The last Inquisitor was already waiting outside, beside a terrified-looking carriage team.

Maybe a little more afraid than they should've been, under the circumstances. They shifted and stamped as earth ponies sometimes did when they wanted to move but had nowhere to go. Of course the crew couldn't just take her carriage away. But normally they wouldn't care about what she did, or where. It was just about pulling her somewhere.

Interesting.

She didn't have to work hard to hide that she'd noticed. The mask covered all but her eyes. She followed the Inquisitors without a single word exchanged. Not until she gave a password at the entrance.

A dozen Witnesses waited inside, all in full robes and masks. Nothing is scheduled tonight. Is he betraying me? Her mind spun, searching desperately for anything she might use to fight her way out of this. She took a few deep, slow breaths, counting backwards until the fear faded into the background.

They're not assembled for judgement, they're scattered like frightened fillies. This isn't about me.

She attracted enough stares and whispers, but nothing she could use. They were too careful with the Inquisitors around to let anything important slip.

They walked the familiar circuit of the mines, and only then did Iris start to guess what had happened here. There was a magical stink on the place, one that irritated her horn and weakened her steps. It was the worst kind of spell failure, the kind that tainted a place for days or even weeks afterwards.

Worry grew in her chest, deep enough that she sped up, forcing the Inquisitors to trot along beside her to keep pace. Something to do with Lilac, a spell gone horribly wrong. "Slow down," one of them ordered.

She ignored the instruction. "What did they do to Lilac?"

"Nothing," answered a different Inquisitor, so quick it sounded like an accident. "It's about what she did."

What? Iris slowed, stunned by that reply. Her daughter had a way of getting herself into trouble. But why would she be here of all places? For all her academic knowledge of magic, growing with startling rapidity for an earth pony—how could she cause a spell to fail so badly it caused a stink like this?

She said nothing else until they reached the Council Chamber. Well, what was left of it. Structural damage had cracks running along the walls, held up by the faint glow of a unicorn spell and some makeshift wooden supports. A huge pile of rubble waited near the front, filled with bits of crushed stone and broken furniture. 

There was an earthquake, remember?

She found Dust Storm waiting there, beside a single Inquisitor. He paced back and forth beside the bench, his wings instantly recognizable to Iris through those robes.

He moved like a pony just as worried as she felt. At least she wouldn't be facing this alone. "Firefly was here too?" she asked, as she walked inside.

He nodded in reply, the only thing he managed to do before Inquisitors stepped between them. Including the three that had brought her and the one guarding Dusty, that left only another two unaccounted for. The Watcher was taking this night incredibly seriously.

"You will meet with the Watcher now," said one, gesturing at an open doorway leading to his council chamber. "Just you. He has already been kept waiting long enough."

There was no way for her to argue. "Of course. There is glory in obedience to the True Gods, and their appointed servants." She walked through the open doorway, levitating it sharply closed. Right in the face of the Inquisitors trailing behind her, she hoped. They had said it would just be her.

The Council Chamber had changed quite a bit in the last few years. Watcher had grown stranger in that time, though he still wrapped his whole body in cloth rags and smelled constantly of rot and odd spices.

She couldn't even see his eyes through his robes anymore. Now there were a pair of dark gemstones, probably worn in frames just under the cloth. Unless he kept them pressed right up against the sockets all the time.

The room was almost totally spartan now, without a single bookshelf, painting, or poem. He had a desk, but not even a chair, just a cushion for him to sit on. Thick scrolls of paper were stacked in front of him, and a pen scribbled furiously on one.

It fell out of his magic as the door snapped closed, and his head looked up. "I ask respectfully why the Watcher sent such a retinue into my own house, instead of merely requesting my presence. Have I ever disobeyed the Lightless Star?"

He gestured with one leg, barely a twitch. Incredible magical force wrapped around her body, dragging her across the room in a blur of motion. It stopped only when she was inches from the desk, dropping her casually to the floor again.

"I once thought so, Vale. But now I am not certain—after what the Godlings have done, nothing is certain anymore. We must needs rewrite much we thought was known."

She remained standing in front of the desk, her whole body alert and ready to fight. Not that she thought her magic would be able to compete with Watcher much. His power defied any simple understanding. 

Even her, better informed in the cult's ancient history and powers than most, could not easily understand where his ability came from.

"What happened?"

He told her. Or he summarized it, anyway. "Someone pulled a Quismalam through the low-place."

Even knowing something extreme had happened, even knowing the depth of the cult's anger, her mouth still fell open. "How many dead?"

"None," he answered, sounding just as amazed as she felt. "They banished it soon after, without incident. It appears somepony's mane was the only casualty."

His responses made so little sense to her that she just stared, mouth opening but unable to form words. 

"Before you ask, yes I mean someone. No rival organization did this, or some... heretical breakaway coven. The sorceress is our own Lilac Empathy."

She gasped. Of course she should've realized it was something like that. She'd been called to deal with the young mare, not brought in as a magical consultant. "The goddess of healing?"

"Apparently not." Watcher shifted and gestured to the door behind him. "She had the other's help, the one now calling herself Firefly. I am not sure how much."


She swallowed. "I... have spent so long with her, I may have forgotten her nature. It can be easy to forget that she is not another pony."

Watcher leaned towards her across his desk. Even without eyes, without a face, she could sense the harshness when he replied. "It's time to remember. Equestria realized something was wrong. Celestia is sending her apprentice to investigate Willowbrook."