Sorry We Missed You

by Starswirl the Beardless


Gold and Marble

A far green countryside stretched out beneath her, a seemingly endless expanse of gentle grasslands and low, sloping hills bisected by a wide, slow-moving river. A bright blue sky hung over her head, lit with the warm light of midmorning. Behind her, home, that humble assemblage of houses and shops still sitting right where she had left it. Before her, at the end of the trail of shimmering water she followed, stood a mountain, a silent stone guardian maintaining its eternal vigil over the land. Nestled precariously, yet unshakably within the crags, grand ivory towers capped with golden spires reflected the light of the sun, a beacon visible even from miles away.

The mare followed that beacon, her eyes never parting from its radiance as she flew. Her tired wings flapped firmly and rhythmically, her burning determination proving stronger than her exhaustion. Her mind was no less drained by the experiences of the day than her body, yet it too focused on its task as if her life depended on it, because for all she knew, it did, as did the life of everypony she knew and loved.

She'll be there. She'll be there. She has to be. She'll know what's going on. She always does. She'll fix this. She'll make it right. She'll be there.


Long, broad avenues cobbled with the finest stone, arranged in patterns as elegant as those of the finest weavers, and as mathematically harmonious as the movements of the stars. Grand marble buildings constructed many centuries prior, their incredible longevity owed to long-forgotten magics of the unicorn wizards of old. Sprawling gardens that seamlessly wedded the raw beauty of nature with the masterful artistry of ponykind. Standing above it all, its protective presence felt in every humble corner and alley, a bright, shining castle fit for the most radiant of princesses.

Truly, Canterlot was deserving of its ancient moniker, “the city of kings”. On that fateful day, however, it would have been more appropriately called “the city of ghosts”.

The mare flew down those streets, her keen eyes spotting the detritus of the throngs that once walked them: dropped purses, foods, children's toys, and a hundred other things to numerous to list. She flew past those buildings, listening to the silence and watching the stillness of the their nonexistent inhabitants. She flew through those gardens, past the trees untouched by wind, the flowers untouched by bee or butterfly, and the grass untouched by the hooves of little ponies. Finally, she flew beneath the shadow of that castle, her passage through its outer gates unhindered by any guard.

It was just as she remembered it, the palatial home of the greatest and wisest of all ponies. The tall white walls reflected the morning light, bathing the castle grounds in a soft, warm glow. Bright green lawns and verdant gardens sprawled out before her, every perfectly sculpted leaf and petal the product of the finest of Earth pony horticulturists. Tall, white towers loomed over her, their gilded tips scraping the sky high above. All of this, and more, she remembered.

She did not remember the silence.

No golden-clad guards patrolled those walls, tall and proud, ready to face whatever threat might rear its ugly head. No richly dressed mares and stallions strolled through those gardens, enjoying the beauty of the day. No dignitaries passed through the doors of those towers, carrying news and pleas to the throne room deep within. Whether this was because there was simply no news to deliver, or because there was nopony to deliver it to, she could only wonder.

No!

She pushed the thought out of her mind as she advanced towards the main entrance, unconsciously flapping her wings more forcefully.

She'll be there. She'll be there. She will.

The grand doors of the castle proper were several times larger than the little mare who approached them, and as masterfully crafted as every other beam and brick within eyesight. While there were no guards standing by to open the way, a mare of her strength had little difficulty in forcing those heavy double-doors apart enough to squeeze through. Once inside, she found herself in a lavish entrance hall, taking in the long silk tapestries that hung from the walls, the plush, red carpets that covered the marble tiles beneath her, and the enormous staircase that led off to the rest of the castle.

“Hello!?!” she cried out, her voice echoing through the cavernous chamber. The sound quickly faded away, leaving her in silence once more.

She turned her attention to the large hallways leading off from the hall, each one identical to the last. “Oh...which one was it?” she muttered, racking her brain to remember the last time she had been beneath that roof. When her search, impaired by both mental and physical exhaustion, proved fruitless, she grunted in frustration, pounding her hooves against her head.

Twilight would know. She knows this place like the back of her hoof. If she were here...

She slowly lowered her hooves. She took slow, controlled breaths, forcing the sobs building up in her throat back down into her gut. She took in her surroundings once more, her gaze focused and intense. Unwilling to delay any further, she picked the most promising-looking of the hallways and took off down it.

The little mare worked her way through the long, high-ceilinged hallways of that great castle, each one a masterwork of architecture in and of itself. She spared herself no time to take in the visual spectacle, however, so focused was she on her task. Slowly, she worked her way through that labyrinth, flying back and forth past countless doors that all looked exactly the same to her. When she found a dead end, she swiftly doubled back, silently cursing herself. When she found herself flying in circles, she veered off in a new direction, increasing her pace to make up for lost time.

With every second that passed, her limited supply of patience was further worn down. With every moment she spent traversing those silent, empty halls, her heart beat a little bit faster, and her wings flapped a little bit harder. Her steadfast focus began to waver, allowing her mind to wander off to worrying places. She imagined herself wandering those hallways and chambers for the rest of her life, a frightened little bird trapped in a cage of marble and gold. She would be doomed to remain there, alone, without her friends, without her loved ones, without anypony...forever.

She'll be here. She'll be here. She'll...she'll be here.

It was as she was flying down one of these many hallways, one that looked no different to her eyes than any other, that she spotted something that made her take pause. She was flying so quickly that she had only a fraction of a second to notice it out of the corner of her eye. Her wings reflexively splayed out, bringing her to a grinding halt in midair. As soon as she had recovered her balance, she whipped around and flew right back the other direction. Now giving her full attention, she easily noticed the large hallway, even larger than the others, branching off a few dozen feet back the way she had come from.

She quickly arrived at the junction and came to a stop, turning to look down the other hallway. Her little heart skipped a beat as her eyes confirmed what they had seen in passing. Lining the walls of that hallway was a series of tall windows, every other of which was made of stained glass. Images of ponies were rendered on that colored glass, ponies with whom the mare was very familiar. At the end of this long hallway, just past the very farthest window, was a door...a huge, ornate door, and thankfully for her, a very familiar door as well. The instant she came to this realization, she took off, her wings propelling her to that long-sought portal in mere moments.

She stopped short just before it, lowering herself down to the polished floor below. As she stood there, catching her breath, she looked up at the antique wood, the shiny golden fittings, and the giant rings hanging from each half of the double-doors, each loop almost as big as she herself was. It was an impressive door, the sight of which immediately conveyed a sense of power, dominance, and control, but at the same time, beauty, elegance, and sophistication. The mare found herself thinking that it was just the sort of door she would put before her own throne room, if she ever had one.

“This is it,” she said softly. “This is it!”

She had an eye neither for art nor architecture, and yet adventure had always been a topic that easily stuck in her mind. It was for this reason that she had so easily remembered that hallway, and so easily remembered that door, her own adventures typically beginning with a crossing of that same threshold and a serious conversation with the one behind it. Such meetings had always brought clarity of purpose, understanding, and much-needed morale, both for her and her friends. She was in desperate need of all three of those things now.

Slowly, she raised a hoof, extending it towards the door before her. Despite their immense size, the door seemed relatively light; even the mere pressing of her hoof against it caused it to wiggle slightly. A strange feeling came over her upon realizing that the door would be so easy to open, upon realizing that there was nothing more standing between her and the answers she sought. She was happy, of course, ecstatic even, and yet, she couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation as well, a feeling which only increased as the seconds ticked by. She turned her head, looking out one of the large windows set into the wall, gazing out at the sun, which had not budged an inch since she had woken that afternoon.

She'll be here. She'll be here. She has to be.

She turned back to face the door, her affirmation running through her mind like a mantra. She took a deep breath, summoned her strength, then gave the door a mighty push. The slab of polished wood slowly rotated inwards on its well-oiled hinges, the imperceptible noise not interrupting the silence.

She'll be here. She'll be here. She'll be here. She'll...

Her mind went blank as she stared through the gap between the two halves of the door, looking through to the tall, lengthy chamber beyond. For several long moments, she did nothing, absolutely, totally, completely nothing. She didn't breath, she didn't blink, and she could almost have sworn that her pounding heart stopped dead in its tracks. Then, when time resumed its normal course, when she could feel her hooves beneath her once more, she walked.

She walked between those tall, imposing doors into that immense room. She walked across that polished marble floor, the soft echoes of her hoofsteps ringing like thunder in her ears. She walked past the brilliant stained glass windows to her sides, paying no mind to the cosmological designs depicted by those colorful pieces of glass. She walked right up to the base of the golden, terraced throne decorated with flowers and soothing water features. She walked right up and gazed upon the plush velvet cushion of that magnificent seat, that royal seat.

That empty seat.

She could clearly see the absence of the powerful, beautiful mare sat on that throne. She could clearly hear the silence of the small fountains that once flowed from it, fountains that now sat still and lifeless. She could clearly feel the chill running across her skin, feel the weight the size of the mountain that castle clung to bearing down on her, and feel her heart filled with an intense, paralyzing sense of complete and utter isolation unlike any she had ever experienced.

Her tired legs, suddenly and wholly deprived of the burning fire that had fueled them, began to wobble, began to shake, and eventually buckled beneath her. She collapsed down onto the floor, and would have laid there on her belly, had she not lacked the will to do even that. Her fall continued, her limp body falling to the side and sprawling out on the ground. Her head stung slightly as it impacted the hard stone, but she did not flinch and she did not cry out. She merely lied there, still staring up at that empty throne in that empty room in that empty castle in that empty city.

She's...not here. She's not here. She's...she's...

“Gone,” her lips finished on her behalf.

The word hung on that still air, hovering around her like a thick, claustrophobic fog. It rattled around her brain, colliding with the dam of willpower and desperate optimism that she had been hiding behind all day. It did not stop, not until the cracks in that already crumbling dam had grown too great to bear, not until that last line of defense finally collapsed, freeing the torrent of bottled up feelings it had struggled to contain. In one single, climactic moment, the mare found herself confronted with the reality of her situation, and with all of the heartache that went with it.

They're gone. They're gone. All of them. Just...gone. Everyone. Everyone but...me.

She could see their faces before her moistening eyes, see them as clearly as if they were stood before her in that very room. She saw the little egghead, the unicorn eager to demonstrate the new spell she had spent all night reading about. She saw the farmer smile and wipe the sweat from her brow after a hard day's work in the orchard. She saw the poofy-haired party planner bounding off to deliver a balloon bouquet in honor of an occasion only she remembered. She saw the fashionista, her eyes shining as she put the final stitch on one of her beautiful gowns. She saw her childhood friend, the little pegasus lovingly holding a woodland critter to her chest. She could even see the little green turtle, her beloved pet smiling that wide smile of his as he slowly charged forward to meet her.

One by one, they vanished, their fragile forms blown away by an ethereal wind before her very eyes, leaving her alone, without even those memories to comfort her. She felt fat, heavy teardrops slowly roll down her cheeks, and felt her throat quake as deep sobs burbled up out of it.

I'm crying. Wonderbolts don't cry.

Try as she might, she could no longer hold back the flood of tears that obscured her vision or quell the tremors that ran through her aching limbs.

You're not a Wonderbolt. You're not anything. Not without them.

The mare's eyes clamped shut as she finally gave in and allowed herself to be carried away on a never-ending river of tears. Her pitiful wails and choking sobs echoed through the halls of that shining castle, before eventually fading away into silence.


The mare's eyes fluttered open, and through the cracks streamed the soft light of morning. Her head was groggy, her vision was blurry, and her body ached from lying on a surface much harder and colder than her warm, fluffy mattress.

Did I roll off the bed again?

She groaned, closing her eyes again and wetting the inside of her dry mouth. She rolled over slightly and raised a hoof, reaching out to grab the edge of her blanket and pull it down onto her. When she did not feel the soft fabric, she grew frustrated, and begrudgingly cracked her eyes again to see how far she had rolled from her bed. Her frustration gave way to confusion, however, as she looked up at the large vaulted ceiling high above her.

Huh? Where...

She rolled her head to one side, glancing over at a wall of tall stained glass windows. She rolled her head over to the other side, looking up at the huge, golden throne that sat just a few yards away.

Her memories came flooding back to her in an instant, slamming into her like a freight train. She gasped, her eyes flying open, but she did not move from where she lay, paralyzed as she was by her realization. Her drowsily beating heart rapidly accelerated, and her breaths came quicker and shallower. She almost cried again...almost. When the first sobs made their way up her throat, she quickly stifled them, forcing them back down again. She stayed like that for several minutes, her body slowly adjusting to the chill as if she were taking an ice bath after a long workout. When she had acclimated, when the pain had become constant and dull, rather than sharp and biting, only then did she stir.

She flexed her stiff muscles, forcing the life back into them. Slowly, with tremendous effort, she got her hooves underneath her again, then pushed herself up on her shaky legs. She stumbled, almost falling back down again, but managed to catch herself. Her eyes filled with stars as her body adjusted to her change in position. She forced herself to wait until her vision had cleared and her legs no longer felt like jelly before moving.

Raising her head, she looked up at the empty throne once again, holding herself together as best she could. She nodded her head jerkily.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Okay.”

She took several deep breaths.

“They're...” she began. “They're all...”

Gone.

“Gone,” she said. “Gone.”

The word felt strange and alien on her tongue, as if she were speaking some ancient, forgotten language. It felt no more mundane the longer it festered in her mind; in fact, as she rolled it around, examining it, prodding it, feeling out the sounds, the word soon lost all meaning to her, leaving her no better off. She grunted in frustration, whipping around to face away from the empty throne, which did nothing but mock her in her suffering.

How?

The question came easily; the answer did not.

“What...what in Equestria...” she said. “What in Equestria is going on here!?!” Her voice spiked in intensity as she spoke, swelling from a soft mumble to a powerful shout that echoed throughout the empty throne room, yet no voice answered her query.

As her voice faded, absorbed into that endless silence, her grief, her sadness, suddenly turned to rage. Her blood boiled hotter with every silent second that passed by, with every moment that the universe did not give her what she wanted.

“Well?” she shouted. “What is it? What's going on?”

Silence.

“Tell me!” she shouted, stamping her hooves on the floor.

Silence.

“Tell me!” she bellowed, long and loud.

Her body was trembling, her chest was heaving, and her heart felt as if it would burst at any moment. As the silence returned once again, something snapped within her. All of her anger, all of her fear, all of her grief, her anxiety, her loneliness, and everything else currently swirling around in her head was suddenly vented as she opened her mouth and let out a long, harrowing scream.

She screamed until every nook and cranny of that enormous room had been filled with the sound of her voice. She screamed until the sound spilled out beyond it, filling the sprawling halls of that castle. She screamed until the nonexistent guards by the castle gates could have heard her, or the ponies walking the streets of town, or even the mountain itself. She screamed until her voice had run down the slopes of the mountain, across the leagues and leagues of silent, empty countryside around it, all the way back to the little town with the little cloud-house with the little bedroom with the little empty turtle bed...and then kept screaming. She screamed until her throat ached and her lungs burned, and when at last her scream ran dry, she took a deep breath and screamed some more.

She stamped her hooves on the ground, the sharp echoes only adding to the cacophony. She thrashed about, wildly kicking at invisible foes around her. She launched herself into the air, her flailing wings sending her careering back and forth across the room at high speed. So quickly did she zip around the room that she might have easily whipped up a small tornado, had she not been flying as erratically as a filly on her first day of flight school. She was fortunate to not crash into one of the many windows that lined that grand chamber, but not so fortunate to keep her from slamming back down onto the hard floor in her stupor, the impact knocking the wind out of her.

Pain arced through her lithe body; she might have cried out, had she not been so thoroughly out of breath. As it was, she was forced to lie there helplessly, trembling in pain and anger, a fresh stream of tears flowing down her cheeks.

No.

She gritted her teeth, swallowing the sobs that dared try to eek their way out.

I'm not just gonna lie here.

She tried to force herself up on her aching legs, but the pain sent her collapsing back down onto the cold, hard marble.

Get up.

She tried again, managing to get all four hooves beneath her this time.

Get up!

Her limbs trembled as she stood, but she forced them to obey her, ignoring the sting of her bruised flesh.

They need you!

“They need me!” she said through gritted teeth.

She straightened her legs and held her head high, staring up at the empty throne with an unflinching gaze.

But for what?

She visibly deflated, closing her eyes and letting her head droop.

“What do I do?” she said. “What am I supposed to do?”

She managed to remain calm when her plea for answers was again ignored. She shot an angry glare at the throne, but in the end, merely turned and fluttered back into the air, flapping her aching wings slowly and carefully. There was much that she didn't know in that moment, but she did know one thing: she wasn't going to linger in that accursed room any longer.

Her wings quickly carried her back to the great door, which she easily slipped through. Once on the other side, she grabbed one of the huge rings and pulled the door shut once again, the two halves making only the slightest noise as they met. She looked up at the door before her, then sighed, lowering her head.

“What do I do?” she muttered.

Turning her head to the side, she glanced out one of the hallway's tall windows at the immobile sun.

How long was I asleep?

The sun, of course, provided no answer, it still being in the exact same spot it had been in when she had entered the room. The mare's biological clock was not significantly more helpful, it having been thrown out of whack by an abnormal amount of physical and mental stress. For all she knew, she could have been lying there on that cold, hard floor for an hour, or for a day. She swiftly turned away, not wanting to waste a single second more because of her own weakness.

As she flapped her way back down the hallway, her brain sputtered in confusion and frustration, trying to find anything, come up with anything, to aid her in her time of need. She needed answers, but more than that, she needed comfort, she needed assurance, she needed the sort of support that only a good friend could provide.

Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed one of the tall stained glass windows she was flying past, the sight of which made her take pause. She turned to face that glass, her heart quivering as she gazed upon the faces it depicted. Two unicorns, two Earth ponies, and two pegasi: six mares standing together as one. United, there was nothing they could not do, no challenge they could not overcome, not even facing down the nightmarish alicorn whose image that window also featured. She flew closer, extending a hoof and caressing the forms of each of those familiar mares, as if she hoped to feel their warmth.

If they were here...we could do it. If they were here...we'd have fixed this in under an hour. But...

“I can't,” she whispered. “I can't do this on my own.” She glanced back up at the figure of the alicorn above her. “I couldn't have even beaten Nightmare Moon on my own. This? This is just...just...”

Impossible.

She breathed a heavy sigh, pulling back from the window. She took one last look at the faces of her friends, then tore her misty eyes away.

Not even Nightmare Moon was this bad. Not even she could have done this.

She resumed her flight down the hallway, her wings beating without passion or will. While her mind was preoccupied, her ever-attentive eyes absentmindedly gazed at her surroundings, subconsciously taking in the marble floor tiles, the hanging planters filled with flowers, the other tall windows...

She froze. A feeling not unlike the shock of lightning, a feeling which she had been unfortunate enough to experience on many occasions in the past, passed through her as one of those little subconscious details wafted through to the front of her mind. She gulped, her mouth suddenly feeling very dry. Slowly, she turned to the side, raising her eyes to the colorful window beside her.

Two mares, one as brilliant as the sun, the other as dark as the night sky. The raw power suggested by those mighty figures was surpassed only by the incredible beauty and grace they displayed, beauty which still fell short of the reality. The long horns on their heads and the great wings sprouting from their backs marked them as alicorns, a fact known to even the youngest of foals. She doubted that there would have been many ponies, be they foal, mare, or stallion, that could have named the third creature on that window.

Lion's paw, eagle's claw, long dragon tail. Lizard's foot, goat's hoof, grotesque, mismatched wings. A warped mockery of an equine head, with two markedly unequine horns jutting from it. Worst of all, an immense eye the size of a dinner plate, staring unblinkingly back at her. It was rendered in the pure white of cold, dead stone, yet she could see the sickening yellow in her mind as clear as day, as well as that haunting, piercing red.

The dense storm clouds filling her mind suddenly dissipated, the vapor burned away by a fire as bright and hot as the sun itself. Gone was the confusion, gone was the fear, but not the anger. The anger remained, but it was no longer the mindless, directionless anger that had been simmering in the bowels of her heart for hours. This time, her anger had form, her anger had a face, and her anger had a name.

Nightmare Moon couldn't have done this. But...

Her muscles tensed, her jaw clenched, and her little heart filled with a furor passed down to her through long centuries by her ancient warrior ancestors, one which had lain dormant in her blood for her entire life...until that very moment.

Time slowed to a crawl as she turned to face the far end of that long hallway. In one smooth motion, her powerful wings, heedless of the dull ache that still clung to them, drew back, extending to their full, impressive breadth, each individual feather brimming with energy, then, when the moment had stretched on as long as it possibly could, those muscles flexed, and those wings gave a single, storm-whipping flap.

For a single moment, the entirety of the infinite, unending silence that held that world in its clutches was forgotten, banished by an ear-splitting crack as loud as thunder, and a rush of wind as powerful as a hurricane. The delicate panes of painted glass that lined that hallway wobbled under the force of that gale, then shook, then spasmed, and then, one by one, they shattered. A hail of colorful shards filled the air, tumbling down towards the floor below. Before the first scrap of glass could even touch that marble, however, the mare had already reached the end of that hallway and disappeared around the corner.

Left. Right. Right. Left. Down. Left. Left. Down. The mare didn't know what guided her through the halls of that grand castle; she didn't care. She didn't stop to question that strange mental clarity, the almost trance-like focus that led her onwards. She didn't bother worrying about the mess she left in her wake as painting were blown off of walls, statues were sent tumbling to the floor, shattering to pieces, and priceless tapestries were torn in two. None of it mattered to her. For the first time that day, she knew exactly where she was going, and she knew exactly what she was going to do when she go there, and she was not going to let anything in the world stand in her way.

It took her less than a minute to make her way back to the front door of the castle. It took her mere moments to pass right through it and angle up into the sky high above. It took her only a few seconds to look down at the castle grounds and locate the royal statue garden. It took her only a heartbeat to flap her powerful wings once again, sending her hurtling towards the ground.

A tremendous, booming thud echoed through the castle grounds as the soft soil of the garden was struck by a blue-and-rainbow meteorite, the sound reaching all the way out to the city streets beyond. A tidal wave of dirt was propelled into the air, crushed into a fine powder which gradually floated back down. When the dust had settled, there came into view a huge crater, with a little mare at its center.

The mare stood there, her chest heaving as she drew deep, heavy breaths. Her limbs shook from adrenaline, and from the shock of her high-velocity impact, the pain of which did not even register in her mind. Her wide eyes, burning with a white-hot intensity that could have melted stone, slowly panned around the garden, staring into the still, silent faces of its inhabitants.

She knew where to go. She knew what she was looking for. She knew who she was looking for. She had been there when he had been brought there. She had been there when that...miserable mistake of nature had been hauled back to his centuries-long resting place. She had been there when his stony form had been returned to its ancient pedestal in its secluded section of the garden. She had been there, right beside her friends. She would be with them again soon.

A quick half-turn, facing the mare in the right direction, a quicker flap of wings, and she was off once again, zooming along the ground so quickly the grass and flowers bent to follow her. Mere seconds after taking off, she flared her wings and dug her hooves into the dirt, bringing her to a grinding halt. A long set of skid marks lay on the ground behind her, leading up to the spot she now stood. Before her, standing as tall as she did and weighing many times more, was an immense pedestal of carved marble, it's ancient surface worn and weathered. A noticeable ring of hoofprints circled it, left by the guards who patrolled that spot night and day. The air around it tingled with the energy of magical defenses created by ponies much smarter than her.

But what was on that pedestal? What pathetic waste of space had been placed there? What wretched creature was about to wish that it had stayed in its stony prison until the end of time?

Nothing. Not a thing.

The mare stood there, burning a hole into the surface of that empty pedestal with her gaze. With every passing moment, her boiling blood grew hotter, so hot that the steam almost whistled out of her ears. For every second she spent staring at that pedestal, staring at the empty space left by the one she sought, she was pushed closer and closer to her breaking point. When the reality of what she was looking at finally finished seeping in, she had no choice but to raise her head and vent all of that anger with a long, frightening bellow.

“Discord!”

The word rang in her ears, just as it rang throughout the towers and high walls around her. The call that could have been heard for a mile around went unanswered, however, with silence soon returning to smother the world once again.

“Where are you!?!” she shouted to the heavens.

She would not take silence for an answer any longer. She would not be ignored, not when she had finally figured out what was going on. If she did not hear that whimsically devious voice in her ear within ten seconds, then she could not be held responsible for what she would do. If he wanted to disappear, act like he had just vanished from the world, then she would gladly make that happen. She would find him, and she would make him disappear for real.

“Get out here!” she shouted, her throat growing hoarse from the strain. “Get out here right now! Right now!” She punctuated these last words with a pair of powerful stamps that made her hooves sting.

She huffed and puffed as her words faded away into that infuriating silence. She frantically whipped her head back and forth, her eyes poring over her surroundings, taking in every little detail. She did not see the one she was looking for amongst those cold, dead statues, within the bushes or trees, or slithering along the rooftops, but she could picture him clearly in her mind's eye. She could just imagine that warped, serpentine form hidden just out of sight, watching her every move; she could almost hear that deep, mocking laugh.

“Discord!” she shouted once more.

The silence that followed was the last straw. Unable to contain it any longer, she opened her mouth wide and screamed a terrible, angry scream, pouring in every bit of strength she had left in her. At the same time, she whipped around and sent a mighty kick hurtling towards the marble pedestal. A loud, dull crack was heard as hoof met stone, and a huge chunk of marble was dislodged from the whole. Half a second later, an intense jolt of pain reached her brain, powerful enough even to distract her from her all-consuming rage. Her scream spiked, then cut off as her body spasmed, sending her sprawling down into the dirt.

She lied there for a while, lacking either the strength or the will to stand. She took quick, shuddering breaths as she waited for the pain to subside. She clutched her injured hoof, gently squeezing and rubbing it. She felt anger, and fear, and despair, and a dozen other feelings she couldn't even put a name to. She was tired, oh so tired, but neither rest nor calm came to her, only a long, harsh catharsis as her pain smothered the inferno of rage that had been burning in her heart.

As the agony gradually diminished, and her head slowly cleared, she looked back up at the pedestal. Aside from the large gash that she had made in its side, it appeared as she had always remembered seeing it, not counting the absence of its usual occupant, of course. The grass around it bore no unexpected marks, no signs of a struggle. Even the gentle warmth of the thick coating of magic surrounding it felt no different than it had the last time she had been there. It was as if that little corner of the world had had its sole inhabitant surgically plucked right out of it, with everything else being left perfectly intact.

Even with her mind clouded by the dull ache of her body and the embers of rage still smoldering in her heart, the mare couldn't help but feel that something was wrong with the picture she beheld.

That magic...

Memories came rushing back to her, memories of standing in that very spot many months earlier. She remembered watching as the guards had carefully positioned that pedestal's stony prisoner back on top of it. She remembered watching as the princess and her protege had raised their horns together, lighting up that statue with a power she could not begin to comprehend. She remembered feeling the air grow warm and tingly as the magic had settled in, forming its tight, unbreakable seal. She remembered the train ride home, and she distinctly remembered not paying attention as the eggheaded unicorn had gushed about her mentor's work of spellcraft, a fact which she was quickly regretting. All she did remember of that enthusiastic spiel was that the magic that had been placed on that statue was no trivial thing. She vaguely recalled a remark that, if it were to detect even a hair's worth of magic out of place, then that statue, as well as the terrain for several feet around, would not be causing a problem for anypony else anytime soon. And yet...there the magic was, still clinging to the air above that empty pedestal.

The spark of curiosity that had been kindled in her mind quickly grew, temporarily distracting her from her suffering. With great effort, the mare managed to get her hooves beneath her and force herself up on her shaky limbs, taking care to step lightly with her bad hoof. When she was confident that she would not suddenly collapse back down to the ground, she turned to face the pedestal, forcing herself to really pay attention to her surroundings.

Now, she knew next to nothing about magic, mystic lore and arcane theory being as incomprehensible to her as Old Ponish, but that didn't mean she couldn't feel the raw power the air around her was seeped in. It made her hairs stand on end like static electricity. It felt...charged, poised, prepared, as if there were some great flood being held back by a barrier as thin as paper, ready to burst forth at the slightest provocation. It was a familiar feeling; she had felt it herself in those tense moments right before the start of every race she had ever flown. That magic was waiting for something, some signal or trigger, one that had never come.

Whatever that magic had been put there for, whatever it had been intended to prevent...just hadn't happened. Whatever had happened...had been something else entirely.

It can't be.

The implications were unnerving, but she had no reason to doubt the magical aptitude of her friend, and certainly not that of the princess. There was no way in the world that their magic could have failed so completely. If it hadn't failed...

Even with the warmth of the sun shining down on her, she still felt a chill pass through her, snuffing out the remnants of her burning rage. The feeling of profound confusion, of being completely and totally lost, began to seep back into her mind, despite her best efforts to keep it at bay.

No way. It has to be him. It has to be.

Despite her self-assurances, the rational part of her mind started to take note of the flaws in her assumption. The sun, despite sitting as unnaturally still, did not sporadically switch places with the moon, plunging the world into the darkness of night. No confectionery clouds sailed overhead, sending down rains of chocolate milk and hails of candy. The castle still stood as tall and proud as ever, rather than floating upside-down in midair with its gleaming white walls painted with polka dots. That day, that horrible, unending day, seemed as still, as quiet, and as un-chaotic as she could imagine a day being.

There was only one thing to do. If she were right, which she was not entirely sure she even wanted to be at that point, there was only one thing in the world that could set things right...six things, actually. Acting quickly, the mare spread her wings and flapped her way back up into the air, smoothly sailing high above the castle. After a quick scan of the area to reorient herself, she angled down and began her descent towards a particular building set far apart from all the others on the castle grounds.

Compared to the castle itself, the building was small, plain, unassuming, not the sort to draw anypony's attention. An ignorant passerby might have thought it was some old servant's quarters, or perhaps an outlying storeroom of some kind. That latter assumption would have been technically correct; the building was intended for storage. Although, with the amount of security that it boasted, it might have more appropriately been called a vault.

The mare swooped down and landed before the little wooden door of that building. She approached it, quickly discovering, to her non-surprise, that it had been locked tight. A firm kick with her good hoof easily shattered the old rusty lock, sending the door swinging inward. Beyond was the true first line of defense: a small guard room that, under normal circumstances, would have been filled with a team of the princess's most highly trained and highly trusted guards. She slowly walked into that still, empty room, looking around at the fortifications and weaponry that could have easily held off a small army. She passed through it all as easily as anything, walking up to another door at the far end.

Beyond this door was a short hallway which, at first glance, did not appear any different from any of the many halls she had passed through earlier. Of course, even if she could not see anything abnormal, that didn't mean she couldn't feel the supernatural warmth and the tingle of electricity hanging in the air. She took a deep breath, then slowly advanced down the hallway towards the door at the other end. The door wasn't locked; it didn't need to be.

As she pulled that door open, she remembered the last time she had stood in that hallway, all those months ago. She remembered the other spell the princess had cast that day, a spell placed on the priceless objects that she and her friends had placed there. Again, she did not remember the details of that particular work of magic, but she did remember its purpose: to protect those objects from whatever evil forces might try to tamper with them.

Looking into that closet-sized space, gazing down at the strongbox resting at her hooves, she hesitated, a nagging feeling of doubt surfacing in her mind. What would she find in that box? Would the princess be proven right? Had her magic been enough to protect her only hope of restoring the world to normal? She saw the empty pedestal in her mind, saw its absent prisoner, and felt the untriggered magical defenses surrounding it.

“No,” she said, swiftly banishing those thoughts from her mind. “They'll be alright. They'll be okay. She's the princess for pony's sake. If anypony could keep him away, it's her. There's no way he could touch them.”

Fueled by newfound confidence, she reached out and grasped the lid of the box before her. She took one last deep breath, then lifted the lid.

Six pieces of fine, golden jewelry rested on a bed of velvet: five necklaces, and one tiara. Each piece in the set bore a large gemstone at its center, each carved into a distinctive shape. There was an apple, and a diamond, and a butterfly, and a balloon, and a huge six-pointed star. Finally, there was a lightning bolt, a familiar symbol rendered in a deep ruby-red. Sitting there on its necklace, that bolt gleamed as beautifully and as brightly as she could ever remember seeing it.

The others...did not.

Autumn orange; royal purple; bright, friendly blue; soft, gentle pink; and powerful magenta. Those vibrant colors that had once shone as brightly as the stars in the sky...were pale, their hues hardly able to be discerned within those dull, greyish gems.