//------------------------------// // Shadows of Beauty // Story: The Greatest of These // by archonix //------------------------------// Shadows of Beauty On any other day Spike would have enjoyed a long walk in the woods. Or ride, in this case, though Twilight would never allow herself to be ridden. She carried him, which was completely different, apparently. Of course, on any other day, he wouldn’t have been so down in the dumps. From his perspective, leaning back against Twilight’s neck, he seemed to be stuck in the bottom of a huge bowl. Trees hemmed him in on all sides, their canopy crowding against the sky like the bowl’s rim Or the edge of a pit. Something deep anyway. Life was a metaphor for suffering... or was it an allegory? “Twilight, what’s it called when you think your life is just an endless repetition of pointless anguish interspersed with moments of painful introspection that leads ultimately to the conclusion that there is no purpose to existence?” “That’s called ‘somepony’s been reading Nihilism for Dummies again’,” Twilight replied. “Oh.” Spike made a mental note to look up that book when they got back to the library. They cantered along the Fillydelphia road, miles out in the middle of nowhere and surrounded by the deep, but open forest that covered so much of Equestria. Even Spike’s melancholy couldn’t remain unaffected by it for long. “Couldn’t we have taken a balloon? I’m worn out.” “Spike, I’ve carried you for the last ten miles.” Twilight tossed her head, flipping Spike upright. She looked over her shoulder at him with a glare. “I even let you sit on my back while we teleported out here.” “Yeah, well... I’m tired anyway,” Spike replied. He hunched over and rested his chin in his hands, watching a tree pass slowly by on the far side of the road. “You’ve had a tough couple of days.” “Maybe.” They continued in silence, Twilight humming snatches of some odd tune and Spike observing the slow passage of time in the trees until a tiny shadow passed over the road ahead of them. Twilight looked up and spotted Rainbow Dash circling and peering theatrically left and right before descending to the road some distance ahead. A short, speedy trot brought them to the stump Rainbow had seated herself on. She flapped her wings in greeting. “Before you ask, Fluttershy is about half a mile back.” Rainbow ran a hoof through her mane and rolled her eyes. “Talking to a tree.” “Really?” “Well... okay maybe it was something in a tree.” “She’s always good with animals, perhaps she’s asking if they’ve seen an enormous dragon around here,” Twilight said. She looked up and down the road, a slight frown tugging at her features. After a moment she trotted a short distance down the road and leaned forward to peer at something. Spike slid from her back, raising a small cloud of dust as he landed on the floor. Rainbow Dash sprang from her seat and glided the short distance to Twilight. “Something wrong?” Twilight straightened up and stared into the distance, one hoof raised as she craned up to look at the sky. “I’m not sure.” She could feel something, a sort of prickling sensation in her back and tail... was this how Pinkie felt when she senses a ‘doozie’? A spell flared in Twilight’s horn, casting a faint light on the nearest trees as she sought to isolate some possible source for her feelings. There were times when Twilight wished she had the ability to identify individual lifeforms at will. Nobody, not even Starswirl, had ever found a way to reliably identify and track a creature in the morass of energy and motion that was the world, not without some small part of it to work with. It was like looking for the proverbial needle in an exploding haystack when your eyes were on fire. Hayinbarn’s Indignity Principle, they called it. Twilight just called it a pain in the— “Twilight, Rainbow, I found something!” It was rare for Fluttershy to raise her voice enough to be heard across a small room, never mind the constant rustling, crackling sound of a living forest. Twilight extinguished the spell just as Fluttershy settled on the ground. She demurely folded her wings away and then broke out in a broad grin. “A family of squirrels said they saw a dragon flying north-east yesterday morning.” “Squirrels can’t talk,” Rainbow Dash countered. Fluttershy threw her an angry glare and then turned up her nose at such obvious ignorance. “They can talk Squirrel,” she said, as if that explained everything. Rainbow Dash snorted and leapt into the air, wings buzzing until she was level with the canopy. She made a show of flying back and forth to find a way through, then grinned down at the two ponies and Spike. “Twilight, it looks pretty dense, how are you getting through?” “Oh I assumed you’d want to carry us,” Twilight replied with a haughty expression, before suddenly teleporting herself onto Rainbow’s back. The normally boisterous Rainbow let out a loud “ooof!” and a yelp as Twilight’s weight settled on her. “Or I could just find my own way, if you prefer.” “Own way! Own way!” Rainbow sighed with relief as Twilight teleported back to the ground. She buzzed back and forth like an angry bee and then dropped down to glare at her friend. “You should have brought a balloon.” “Told you,” Spike muttered. Twilight shot him a look but shook her head and motioned for Spike to climb on her back again. Together they walked to the edge of the road and stared into the abrupt boundary between civilisation, such as it was, and the wilderness. Rainbow shot off east in a bright blur of effort whilst Fluttershy stepped into the woods without, unusually for her, any apparent fear. But then, Twilight reasoned, their trips into the forest normally meant Everfree, and that was a whole different kettle of oats. What was there to fear in a perfectly natural forest like this, except for the giant dragon that had taken their friend? Of course, when she put it that way... Something caught Twilight’s attention again, the same nagging feeling from a moment earlier. She paused, one hoof raised to the forest, and looked over her shoulder at the far side of the road but nothing presented itself as any sort of threat. Perhaps the stress of the last few days was finally beginning to tell. With a sigh she stepped between the trees and was soon immersed in the peaceful shade of the deep woods. * * * Eyes peered out of a crack, a tear in the world that seemed to open into the fire of chaos itself. They watched, burning with unfulfilled need, as Twilight paused at the forest edge before plunging into darkness beyond. Something seemed to change. For a moment, peace returned to the forest, until there was a loud snap of a tree branch. Then a rustle. The undergrowth parted. Pinkie Pie stepped out on the road with a slightly confused expression and looked around. She knew she’d come here for a reason but she had absolutely no idea what... she spotted Twilight’s tail across the road as the other pony stepped behind a tree, and squealed with joy. Of course! “Twilight, wait for me!” She bounced after her friend, humming joyfully at the start of another adventure. * * * Twilight Sparkle, Celestia has asked us to write to you as she is currently in negotiations with the Griffin Kingdoms over a border dispute and will not be free for many hours, yet feels a response should be immediate. We regret the disappearance of your friend and colleague, whose company we have enjoyed on several occasions, and we understand the pain that you must feel. However, we must urge you to begin immediately considering contingencies for the use of the Elements of Harmony. The elements will naturally seek to replace a lost bearer, however you must be prepared to find them immediately this change takes place. With equal regret we must also inform you that the Crown has no available means to aid your quest against this dragon. We know you will find a solution, Twilight Sparkle, for you are a most intelligent and wise pony. Celestia and I have the greatest trust in your instincts and abilities. Our speed to you. Luna Twilight rolled the letter into a tight scroll and passed it back to Spike who, after his sudden expulsion of flame across her now somewhat singed mane, was walking beside her with a sullen expression. So, no help from that quarter, though a treacherous part of her mind reminded her that she’d never really expected any help from the Princesses this time. The first time they’d dealt with a dragon, Twilight had assumed it was meant to be another lesson in friendship and a means of crafting a closer bond between the bearers of the Elements of Harmony. Mostly it had been a lesson in pain. Then, the entire fate of Equestria had been at stake. This time it was merely personal, and yet somehow that didn’t make her feel better about not receiving help. Besides, wasn’t it just a matter of time before a feral dragon became a danger to the entire country? Shouldn’t they deal with it now? Which is, she thought bitterly, where Twilight Sparkle comes in. At least the walk was reasonably pleasant. After about an hour in the false dusk of the dense canopy the forest had begun to thin out. The occasional narrow clearing that had allowed Rainbow Dash to keep up with their progress had been replaced with larger clearings and even the occasional rocky watermeadow. They were in one now, a broad expanse of wild grass punctuated with the occasional shallow pool, fresh-filled with rain the night before. She’d even found time to enjoy a fresh-picked snack of cress and horseradish. “When this is all over,” she said to nobody in particular, “I’m going to spend more time out here.” Twilight paused to look over her shoulder and gasped. The forest fell away behind them down the side of a long, shallow slope. “Wow... we’ve climbed a long way.” “Nearly eight-hundred metres.” Fluttershy daintily stepped around a small pile of rocks and stood next to Twilight to admire the view. Pinkie Pie just bounced over them. “How can—” “The barikon aden means I always know exactly how high I am,” Fluttershy replied, tapping her head just behind her ear. She glanced up at the clouds and shivered. “Exactly how high." “Oh.” I should have known that, Twilight thought. She turned away from the view and continued along the shallow incline. To their left the slope began to steepen until they were walking at the ridge of a quite impressive, tree-filled valley. Through the summer haze Twilight could just make out a steep hill, almost a mountain, with a suggestive dark patch on one side. She heard the flutter of wings above and stopped to wait for Rainbow Dash’s landing. The pegasus was breathing hard from exertion and seemed almost ready to fall to her haunches. Twilight levitated some water from a nearby pool and offered it up to Rainbow, who began greedily sucking it down. “I found it,” she gasped between gulps. “A cave at the head of the valley. There’s... bones and things.” “Did you see Rarity?” Rainbow shook her head. She dipped her head under the last of the water and splashed it through her mane. “Didn’t stick around to look.” Her voice was subdued and her whole stance tense. “Didn’t see a dragon in there, though.” “It’s probably out hunting.” Fluttershy’s voice was unusually shaky and she kept glancing up at the sky. The others followed her gaze without thinking and quickly found themselves searching for that familiar black shape. Even Pinkie Pie’s normally chipper demeanour had turned. Somehow she had cuddled up beneath Fluttershy’s wing, which had instinctively reached out to cover Pinkie’s back. The thought that a dragon might come plunging out of the sky at any moment spurred Twilight. She concentrated, rifling through a catalogue of her mental library until the spell she wanted came to view. A quick burst of magic fanned out, leaving a faint metallic tang in the air. Twilight opened her eyes again and grunted in satisfaction at the sight of a faint, shimmering patch of air directly over the four. “It’s a camouflage spell,” she said, responding to the quizzical look the others gave her. “From the air we’ll look completely invisible, though if we meet anything up close it’ll be able to see us, so—” “So lets just not get too close to anything,” Rainbow Dash completed. “Right.” Twilight lead them on under the gently humming spell. The ground was drier now as they entered the valley proper and they were soon skirting the edge of another deep wood. By universal consent they stayed out of it, preferring to rely on Twilight’s camouflage rather than risk getting turned around and trapped in the dense primal forest, where the trees and underbrush were so thick and closely packed that it was almost impossible to see past the first few trunks. Not for the first time, Twilight wondered how so much of Equestria could be so completely untouched despite thousands of years of pony habitation of the land. Thousands of miles of untouched forests, plains, entire valleys that probably hadn’t even been explored. In some of her idle fantasies Twilight had dreamed of exploring such places, maybe wearing a hat like Daring Do’s — though that might be a bit much — and finding lost towns of Ponies that pre-dated the Unification. Idle fantasy. She knew there would be no such thing, but a filly could dream... “Where are all the birds?” “Pinkie, don’t be—” Twilight cocked her ears and stopped in her tracks. She was right. The valley was virtually silent. A light breeze rustled the branches of nearby trees yet, that aside, there was nothing; no birdsong, no distant animals. Not even insects. A quiet noise from Fluttershy distracted Twilight from the thought. “Did you say something?” “It probably... probably scared them away,” Fluttershy whispered. She seemed about ready to try and disappear behind the next blade of grass until Pinkie Pie began tickling the back of her ear. Under Pinkie’s gentle teasing the tension visibly drained from Fluttershy’s body. She straightened up a little and ducked her head. “Thank you...” “No problem!” “Fluttershy, it’s okay for you to go back to town if you need to,” Twilight said, trying to smile. “I’m sure Applejack would love some help taking care of Sweetie Belle.” Fluttershy’s wings twitched and her ears lowered, but she shook her head. After a deep breath, she set her face in a determined scowl that lasted almost half a minute, by which time the others had started to move on. Fluttershy skipped across the rough ground to be sure she was still under the camouflage spell and settled into a quick trot beside Rainbow Dash. The silence became oppressive as they moved closer to the cave. The entire valley radiated emptiness and the four ponies and dragon all felt the same clawing, unnatural fear clutch at their hearts. It was like a silent, drier version of the Everfree Forest now. The spell above them abruptly cut out with a shrill screech, earthing its magic into the ground at Fluttershy’s hooves. She jumped back in shock and landed against Pinkie Pie. “Ow!” “What was that!?” “I don’t...” Twilight couldn’t focus. She shook her head, trying to clear a sudden ache beneath her horn, but it refused to budge. “I can’t seem to maintain the field.” An aura flared around Twilight’s horn as she tried to recreate the spell. With a worrying damp sound it died as quickly as it had begun. Twilight closed her eyes and concentrated; the magic flared again, unstable, throwing out sparks that trailed thin streamers of black, oily smoke. After a few moments the aura faded again. Twilight let out a pained gasp and sank to her haunches. “As if this day couldn’t get any worse,” she muttered. Twilight looked around at her friends, noting their questioning looks. “There’s some sort of anti-thaumic ward. It could stretch for miles.” “But.. b-b-but that means...” Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash both suddenly thrust their wings forward as they scanned the sky, suddenly incredibly alert. Twilight often forgot how vulnerable a Pegasus must feel on the ground when danger threatened from above. “We’ll keep going,” Twilight said. Pinkie Pie’s responding cheer was welcome, though the two pegasi looked fretful. Without waiting for more of an answer she began walking towards the cave. The last leg of their journey was a peculiar sort of torture for Twilight. In her youth, after admittance to Celestia’s school, Twilight had been plagued by a recurring nightmare that saw her lose all her magic right when she was supposed to perform some sort of test for the Princess. The Princess would smile ather with that way she always had, but Twilight would see the sadness in her eyes, the disappointment that her most faithful student had inevitably failed her. The nightmare had faded over the years as Twilight had grown in her confidence and abilities, but the fear had remained at some level. Twilight’s abilities almost completely defined her; to lose them was almost like losing herself. She knew her magic was still there, dormant, suppressed but still there. If she could just bring it to the fore... she tried again, a simple light spell this time, but only managed another faint shower of sparks. Twilight’s frustrated growl was cut short by a leg suddenly slamming across her chest. “Pinkie!” “Shhh! We’re here,” Pinkie Pie whispered. They had found their way under the trees again and now stood at the edge of a large clearing around the mouth of a deep cave. Something shimmered within the cave, possibly gemstones, but it was too hard to tell from this distance. Besides, they didn’t need to see gems to know the cave was inhabited. Cracked bones littered the clearing. Trees had been uprooted and burned to ash. The stone around the cave entrance was scorched and blackened by fire. Twilight edged around the clearing, staying behind the trees, as if that would somehow make her safe. The silence here was absolute, the forest unmoving as even the wind had departed. No sound but the swish of bracken and undergrowth around their hooves. Close to the cave, Twilight felt something soft and sticky beneath her hoof. She stopped to look down.. terror gripped her heart and Twilight suddenly stumbled back, falling on her haunches, trying and failing to throw a defensive barrier between her and the thing on the floor. “Twilight, what—” Fluttershy froze when she saw the messy remnants on the floor. A skull, a few bones, wrapped in hair and anything else a dragon couldn’t digest. She swallowed and stepped back, then turned away and vomited in the grass. Rainbow Dash, torn between curiosity and horror, leaned as close as she dared to the giant pellet. “Is... is that...” “No.” Twilight shook her head, more for her own benefit than anything. Ignoring the now obvious smell she leaned a little closer to the pellet. “It’s probably a deer or something similar. I doubt it was... sentient...” She turned to look at her friends. Fluttershy wasn’t retching now, but her muzzle was almost touching the floor and she was shivering like a leaf. Pinkie Pie looked up from rubbing the yellow pegasus’ back and tried to smile, though it seemed to be a losing game in the current atmosphere, and Rainbow Dash... her wings were thrust forward again, but uncertainty rode her every action and she was rocking from one foreleg to the other, muttering something under her breath. Twilight thought she caught Rarity’s name at least once. A snuffle caught Twilight’s attention. She turned to Spike; the little dragon had his back pressed against a tree, his eyes closed and both hands over his mouth. As Twilight moved toward him she saw tears running freely down his face. “Spike...” “She’s gone!” Spike scrubbed at his eyes as if that would stop the tears. He stared at his hands, claws stretching and relaxing, then at the bone-strewn clearing. “Spike, we don’t know—” “Oh yeah? So where is she? Tell me that, Twilight!” “I can’t tell you what I don’t know! I can’t use my magic...” Spikes eyes had already left her and were focussed on the cave. They widened and Spike gasped, whether in fear or something else Twilight couldn’t say. The little dragon suddenly took off at a sprint toward the cave. “Spike!” Twilight ran after him, ignoring her the outcry of her friends. She burst into the open sunlight, just as Spike’s tail disappeared into the shadow of the cave, and galloped past the scattered bones and debris of the clearing. The light spell came unbidden as she passed beneath the dark overhang and it was only once she had slowed to a walk that Twilight realised it was working. The wards didn’t extend within the cave. Another mystery to be worked out later, for now she had an assistant to catch. She found Spike a short distance inside the cave, kneeling down with something grasped in his claws. Despite his earlier behaviour he was completely silent. She looked around as she walked up to him and spotted a few grubby bolts of cloth piled up at the back of the cave. One had been unrolled, another was shredded. One piece was laid out on the floor and held a small pile of gems. Rocks clinked as Spike stood up, holding something tightly in his claws. He turned to Twilight with a grim expression, yet there seemed to be some relief there too. Twilight tilted her head and looked at his hands. He was holding a lock of mane. Rarity’s mane. Spike trailed the hair between his claws... and then he smiled. “She’s not here,” he said. His eyes traced the lock of hair sliding between his fingers with loving care. “She can’t be here.” “Spike, are you... are you okay?” Spike shook his head, never taking his eyes from the hair. He wrapped it around his claws again and again then held it up to his face. “I don’t suppose you’re going to explain...?” “We can’t digest hair,” he said, his voice almost absent. “I remember you shouting at me for gnawing your tail when I was really little and then half a day later I brought up that big hairball.” “On the rug,” Twilight replied. “I don’t see what—” “It was all full of bile and slime, it didn’t even really look like your hair any more.” Spike stroked the lock of purple over the back of his hand and smiled. “So she can’t be here, because this hasn’t been inside a dragon.” A strange shudder ran down Spike’s back and he became more alert, as if waking from a dream. Spike looked up at Twilight. “Hey your magic’s back!” “Yeah. The wards don’t extend in...” Twilight stamped her hoof and flared her nostrils. “Spike, it doesn’t make any sense!” Spike’s eyes shifted to the cave entrance. He dropped the hair and suddenly crouched defensively. “It’s coming back.” “What? Oh no...” Twilight looked around the cave in a panic until something caught her eye. She glared at it and then shifted her attention back to Spike. “Get the others, get under cover. I’ll see you back in Ponyville.” “But Twilight—” “I said go!” Twilight’s eyes flared bright with magic that rippled along her mane, sending a momentary flash of fire down her back, the command spell throwing Spike towards the cave entrance before he even knew what had hit him. She’d regret that later, but there was no time to argue and no time to wait for Spike’s sense of duty to overcome his stubbornness. The object of her attention was on the far side of the cave, buried in darkness. Twilight upped the power on her light spell and moved out into the cave, carefully stepping around an arrangement of gemstones on the floor until she was before a shimmering sheet of cloth, suspended from a crudely constructed frame. She looked up at it, then around the interior of the cave, a dreadful feeling of familiarity growing in her. Twilight returned to the hair Spike had been playing with and levitated it close to her face. Clean hair. She looked over her shoulder and opened the Ossory’s Pocket without a thought. Without warning a magical clamour invaded Twilight’s mind, almost a scream of anguish and horror that seemed to emanate from just outside the cave, punching a white-hot knife of pain beneath her horn that drove Twilight to her knees. Twilight slammed a binding spell on the pocket and the silent cacophony ceased. Blinking, shaking her head to clear the stars floating before her eyes, Twilight struggled upright. She glanced at the hair and tossed it to the floor, then looked over her shoulder at the spot where the Ossory’s Pocket usually came to rest. After a final look around the cave, in the hope that her imagination was playing tricks on her, she turned to the exit. A dragon stood in silhouette, wings extended against the bright sky. Its hot breath was already filling the cave. Twilight stepped back, readying a defensive spell, then realised the futility of it. Her horn glowed bright. The dragon roared and lunged, and Twilight winked out of existence. * * * Spike and the three ponies ran for their lives, ducking between trees without any care if they were heading toward the road or the town, as long as they were heading away from the dragon. He knew he would probably be safe in the short term, as a dragon rarely ate young of its own species, but the other three? Fluttershy was already flagging, alternating between a run and a hop aided by a flutter of her wings. Pinkie was in the lead, skipping without any apparent effort, whilst Rainbow Dash was in the rear. She kept glancing over her shoulder and up at the canopy, surely wishing she were anywhere but the ground. Yet she stayed, urging them on with shouts of encouragement and once even nipping at Fluttershy’s rump to keep her moving. They heard the roar of a dragon. Rainbow Dash skidded to a halt and turned, as if to run back. She would have done it too if Fluttershy hadn’t suddenly grabbed her tail and tugged her to the ground. “Let me go!” “No, Dash! She wanted us to — how could any of us fight a dragon?” “How could she?” "Duh! Magic!" “We promised to meet her in town, we can’t go back on that.” Rainbow Dash sagged and let her wings flop at her side. She dropped her head. “I guess...” “We’re probably safe now,” Fluttershy said, probably more to reassure herself than anything else. “We can walk the rest of the way.” * * * Twilight appeared with a loud pop in the centre of the library’s main room and immediately ran towards the reading table with its stack of research materials she’d set aside just a day earlier. She rifled through the books, carelessly tossing them to one side as she looked for the title that had come to mind. “Legendarium, Anticlimax of the Shallow Mind, Secrets and Lies: an Earthy Pony’s Tale... what is that even doing here?” Twilight tossed the errant volume towards the shelves, not caring that Spike wasn’t there to catch it, as she continued through the pile. Book after book flew to one side until she reached the last, lying open on the table. She flipped it over and read the title. “Historia Magicae volume seven. Huh.” Twilight laid the book down gently and looked at the mess she’d created. “I was so sure I saw something...” With the book still embraced in her levitation spell Twilight turned to pace the room, not noticing a pile of books immediately by her hooves. She tripped. The Historia flew from her grip and landed on its spine. An image twitched at Twilight’s mind, a falling book and a flutter of pages. She stepped around the tormenting pile and focussed on the book, which had opened quite randomly at an essay on the consideration of small trifles. Twilight lifted the book back to the reading table and began to leaf through it, carefully examining the pages, then turned to the index. She ran a hoof down the finely printed list. “On Hidden Things,” she read. That was familiar. With a sense of growing trepidation Twilight opened the chapter and scanned the first few sentences. “A treatise on the distribution, disposition and dissipation of the spatial fissures, commonly named in Magna Astralomagica Regesta as Ossory’s Pocket or Saint Ossory’s Pouch, and the methods by which said fissures shall be discovered, cleansed or sealed.” She continued to read, eyes darting back and forth on the page from text, to diagrams and back again as she tried to absorb what the book was telling her. At first she took notes. Soon, though, the quill fell aside, untouched as Twilight thundered through the essay, a mix of fear and anger clouding her features. The book snapped shut. Twilight lifted it into the air, her eyes fixed on some distant point in space and time. “Sweet Celestia,” she whispered as a teleport spell consumed her. “What have I done?” * * * “... indeed what have any done, in the grand scheme, except deny the inevitable encroachment of time upon their body and mind, even as the signs grow stronger. All we can do is leave our mark upon the world, and hope we are remembered well once we pass on to the great meadow.” Starswirl the Bearded, many years of that name, gently placed his quill on his writing desk and closed his eyes. He leaned forward to stretch his aching back and withers and tried not to think about the coming day, when he would complete the binding spells that should, in theory, prevent his race from forgetting the Historia Magicae, possibly his last and greatest work. Future generations would depend on those words for their peace of mind and safety but such a spell required power. Perhaps more power than he had. Fortunately he had some help. Starswirl reached over his desk to a speaking tube and tapped it twice with his hoof. “Sunset Aura, if you’re still in the library could you please bring me the second Ossory codex and another of your mother’s fine pastries?” “Can do!” Starswirl let the tube slip back into place and smiled. Yes, it certainly paid to be the most gifted mage in the Unicorn kingdoms, far better than anything a mere king could achieve. Nevertheless, there was work to be done. He levitated his quill back to the page. “And yet, no greater indictment of the behaviour of a mage might be found than that he sought knowledge, not for the sake of itself, nor for the betterment of ponykind, but for something so fleeting as fame.” “You know, you might write faster if you didn’t talk at the same time.” Sunset Aura trotted through the outer door, a small tray suspended before her. She bore the tray and its contents – a pastry, two scrolls rolled tight, a pot of masala chai and two cups – to a larger table in the corner of the room and set it down with a quiet tinkle. Starswirl smiled and shook his head as the younger unicorn poured them both a steaming cup. “Young lady, you are, as ever, a fount of profound yet impractical advice,” Starswirl said, smiling. He took the proffered cup and pastry, and waited as Sunset unfurled first one scroll and then the other. “Have you considered my offer?” “I have,” Sunset said. Her examination of the second scroll seemed to falter. “It is a tempting one but I’m not sure I’m ready to leave my archive just yet.” As if the archive was your true calling, Starswirl thought, eyeing the spangle of bright red stars on Sunset’s pale blue flank. Potentially the most powerful mage he had seen and yet she hid away amongst her artefacts and trinkets like some sort of librarian. He set aside the chai and tried to give Sunset his most penetrating look. The outcome was not exactly as he expected. She giggled. “Miss Aura, what is so amusing?” “Nothing! Nothing... it’s just that you seem to be paying a lot of attention to me these days.” Sunset rather coyly raised the scroll up to her face and peered at Starswirl over the handle. “I’m just a simple archival researcher and you’re the most powerful mage our race has ever seen. Why you would want to spend even a moment with me when you could do anything in the world... why, you could be ruling Unicornia right now if you wanted it.” “Tempt me not!” Starswirl chuckled as he snatched the scroll from Sunset’s levitation spell and set it on the writing desk next to his work. “The kingdom needs wisdom and guidance, not mere brute power. As for you... Sunset Aura, you are no archivist and you are no mere strip of a filly who knows not her strength. I would have you as...” His voice trailed off. Sunset’s expression had gone from coquettish to almost horrified as he spoke and Starswirl wondered if perhaps he’d gone too far. But then she smiled, just a little. “Go on,” she said, lowering her eyes just a fraction. Was she blushing? “Oh... forgive an old stallion his fantasies, dear child.” She smiled again and Starswirl found himself smiling back as he briefly considered the youth spell he had perfected just a few weeks ago. But no... ultimately such a spell would lead to places he would rather not consider. “One as powerful as I cannot help but see another of equal or greater capacity. I see you as a great and powerful mage and... I hope, a progenitor of such mages.” That one drew a gasp. Starswirl stepped back and turned to get a better view of the young mare. “I also fear you.” “Fear me?” “A mage fears power as great as his own. Rivalry amongst such as we can lead only to greed and chaos and, ultimately, death. Come, see,” he said, motioning to the scrolls and his own half-finished writing. “This character, Ossory, for instance sought to prove himself better than his fellows rather than working with them, and in so doing may have released something that consumed him utterly.” “I read a little of Ossory when you requested information on his work,” Sunset said. Her voice seemed a little faint and it was obvious she was still reeling from the minor revelations Starswirl had dropped on her. If only she knew. “He seemed keen.” “Young Clover is 'keen', and far too enamoured with politics for my liking,” Starswirl said. He smiled and shook his head when he remembered that his young Clover had ceased to be either young or his student nearly fifteen years ago and was, these days, well entrenched in the highest levels of the court. A fine mage, though perhaps not as clever as the name suggested. “Ossory was arrogant and knew little of anything save promoting himself— and what is so amusing now?” “Oh, nothing...” Sunset Aura managed to suppress her grin and gave Starswirl the most serious of looks that he almost burst out laughing himself. “Yes, well, he and those like him are the reason I started writing the Historia in the first place. Future mages need to understand that magic is not something to be trifled with. Those with the most power must be given the greatest guidance.” She was gazing at him now, fascinated, or infatuated; Starswirl was unsure which, and equally unsure which he’d prefer. He stroked his beard as he tried to recall what he had been saying. “Yes, anyway, Ossory’s infamy was the spell he named his ‘pocket’.” “I’ve heard you speak of these before, master Starswirl.” Sunset’s voice was suddenly very formal, as she so often became when those students were about. But they were alone, which meant she must be playing with him on some level that Starswirl didn’t understand. “The rants I have had about those infernal cysts,” he said, retrieving his writing tools. He dropped the quill into an ink pot and then stopped, unsure of what to do. “They were to have been his crowning achievement, by his own account. And mine, when I resurrected them and brought them back to the world.” “What happened?” “Oh I found out that Ossory’s magic was merely a concoction of half truths and fancywork and that his vanity was matched only by my own.” Starswirl held up the scroll and peered at it though, in truth, he was only pretending to read while he ordered his thoughts. “Ossory claimed invention of a type of spatial rift that would be immediately accessible through a spell of his own devising. Unfortunately he neglected to mention that the rifts were extant prior to his alleged creation and that his ‘magic’ was little more than a location fixer and a sorting spell with a basic predictive function built it.” “So in essence, a Dewdrop’s Purse of Concealment.” “That could be the inspiration,” Starswirl murmured, laying the scroll down on the desk. “But a spatial rift... a spell located within a set of self-enclosed non-euclidian dimensions... tied to a specific set of orgonal markers and accessible from any point in real space? That’s incredible.” It had taken Starswirl a week to work out the general shape of the spell and Sunset had figured it out in moments. You are wasted in that archive, he thought once again. “Incredible? Only if he’d found a way to create the self-enclosed geometries himself but, alas, even I have yet to crack that one. You might, given time,” he added with a glance to the young mare. Sunset blushed again. “As I said, he merely found them, and then he poked holes in them to create his masterwork. Foalish young upstart probably ended up stuck in one of his own ‘creations’. As for what he potentially let out... huh.” “Let... let out? Master, you never mentioned anything being let out before.” “Oh... I suppose I didn’t.” Starswirl went to take a sip of his tea and realised the cup was empty. His pleading look elicited a sigh from Sunset who, nevertheless, retrieved his cup and poured a fresh drink while Starswirl returned to his writings. “When I first discovered the Pockets I thought I had stumbled across a hidden masterpiece, a work of such genius that nothing but good could come of it. Even when I found that Ossory had only co-opted an existing geometric artefact I reasoned that it still had almost limitless potential. I was invested, Sunset, in the fame it would have brought me and came extremely close to achieving that fame in a most painful and bitter way. You see the stonework at the far end of this laboratory?” Sunset followed Starswirl’s outstretched hoof to a fresco built into the far wall. It was a fairly simple affair, marble inlaid with silver and gold, a stallion descending from a great tower that seemed to be crumbling into a pit. “A rather plain depiction of the Fall of Adara and the descent of Fleethoof Starshine,” Sunset said after a moment’s examination. “What of it?” “How old do you think it is?” “I have trouble with anything younger than a century... oh, stop it.” Sunset Aura playfully slapped at Starswirl’s side at the sight of his enormous grin. “You’re far too young for me.” “Alas, I was thinking the same thing,” Starswirl replied. His seriousness returned as he faced the mural and for a moment he was back amongst the reasons for its existence. “Forty-five years, give or take a month. I had it installed about two months after finding my first Pocket and about a week after opening the last. You see, Sunset, those pockets were created for a reason. They held... secrets. In this case a magical bomb that transformed one of my previous assistants into...” He shuddered as the memories returned to his mind. The first pocket had contained nothing more than a small, if rather well-preserved vase that was probably secured somewhere in Sunset Aura’s enormous archive. The second had held some groceries, rather less well-preserved, and a shopping list clearly marked as belonging to Ossory himself, which had encouraged Starswirl to continue seeking the pockets. “Ossory had invented a means to locate and retrieve his pockets from a very wide area, and I quickly found several more. It was the first of those that my assistant opened, under my instruction. Something... whatever was in there... it was already powerful when it escaped. It devoured his mind in moments, he barely had enough time to realise what... I...” Starswirl took a deep breath as he tried to order his thoughts. Time heals all wounds? Whoever had said that hadn’t had to look one of their closest friends in the face and see only malevolent hatred staring back through dead eyes, and hadn’t had to suffer the nightmares years later. “It was a curse. Something from before any recorded history, something so evil that it must have been created only for war, though any war that would require the use of such weapons, I cannot even begin to comprehend.” He looked into Sunset’s eyes, bright with life and curiosity, and tried to smile. She was seeing a new part of his life now, something she’d never have encountered if it weren’t for her particular talent. Starswirl wondered if it would drive her back to her archive permanently. “I suppose you must learn of things like this if you are to fully consider my request. To be a mage means occasionally facing situations that are... impossible. Rising above the impossible is what magic is all about, in the end.” “Master, you...” She took a breath. “Your friend?” “Ah... Sunset, I don’t think—” “I have to know. Please.” The old mage turned to face the mural. He hadn’t looked at it for years, not really looked at it. Casual glances, the sight of it behind other things yes, but not the actual mural, not for many years. He’d thought it quite fitting as a memorial to... to his loss. Had it even been to his friend? He wasn’t sure any more. Of so many things, he wasn’t sure. “ ‘Oh thou of great and noble race, thy home Adara burns in dead of night. Mourn thee now thy fate and place, to walk this earth forever lost to harmony’s great light.’” He didn’t need to read the stone; the words were etched in his memory far deeper than any chisel could cut granite. “It was meant to remind me that even the greatest can fall. Ossory fell to greed. I almost fell to mindless enthusiasm. Perhaps I still shall fall to pride... my friend? He fell to loyalty. Pure, simple loyalty. He loved me and did everything I asked for that love.” Starswirl closed his eyes as he pictured the face of his friend, the day before the accident. They had spent the morning walking, planning how they would live out their lives after their great new discovery. He would have been a great noble living in a grand mountainside villa. He’d already found a nice valley with a huge reflecting lake. Starswirl would be the Archmage of Unicornia. Together... together, what great things they could have done. “I had no choice, in the end. The curse took him, completely and utterly. He’d been powerful, but he’d never fully appreciated his own strength. This curse... this monster that stole him, it knew what he could do. It knew that with a mere thought it could turn this entire city to dust. It knew what he meant to me, and it tried to bargain, to use that love, that loyalty against me. My friend’s life for my even greater power.” Starswirl blinked way the tears as he spoke. “I could see the monster already growing in power. It would have taken me anyway, so I destroyed it the only way I knew; I burned his body to ashes, spread his power to the winds before the creature that had taken him could comprehend what I had done. Twice then, I had destroyed my most loyal friend. My only true friend. “So now you see, Sunset Aura, what it is to be a mage, to risk all for the understanding of this arcane art. I asked this of you not lightly but with the greatest of sorrow, because I see your power, and I would have you understand just what that power means. I would guide you, teach you to avoid my mistakes, and to surpass me in my success. I would not have you become another Ossory, nor have you suffer the fate of my friend simply because you were too eager for fame and fortune or too enamoured with the thrill of power to see death and destruction coming before it was too late. To follow me would set you on a path to endless toil, hardship, loneliness and pain.” “When you put it like that...” Sunset Aura looked at her hooves. She took a sharp breath and looked up into Starswirl’s face with a strange, distant smile. “But I get to keep the archive, yes?” Despite himself, Starswirl laughed, the first decent laugh he’d had in the gods knew how long. Perhaps the impetuousness of youth had some positive aspects, after all. He returned to his desk and lifted pen to paper. “I don’t see why not. For now, hand me that other Ossory scroll. I want to get this on parchment, then we’ll talk about your future.” Suffice to say, he wrote, pen scratching rapidly across the page. Ossory was a hack. * * * Applejack and Zecora were waiting at the Boutique when Twilight arrived. They barely showed any surprise at the bright flash of light that accompanied her, though Zecora seemed unusually interested in the book that flopped to the floor as Twilight appeared. Twilight’s teleportation had become common enough that it was almost normal, at least for Ponyville. “Hey there sparky,” Applejack called out. Twilight ignored her and began to pace back and forth, her eyes fixed on the Boutique’s door. She seemed to be muttering something. “Ah said... aw nuts to that.” With a sigh and a toss of her mane Applejack made her way over to the rapidly forming rut that marked Twilight’s anxious pacing. She watched her friend for a few turns. “Twilight, what in tarnation is wrong with you?” Twilight’s pacing slowed and she sagged, almost as if she were sinking into some invisible pit. She eventually came to a halt, breathing heavily, and closed her eyes. “I did it.” “You what?” “The curse,” Twilight said, lifting her face to the sky. Tears twinkled on her cheeks and pooled in her eyes. “I was the one who cursed Rarity. Somehow I... I released something.” “What...” Applejack looked askance at Zecora, who had sidled up to the pair in the meantime. “Twilight, that’s plumb loco!” “No...” Twilight opened her eyes and motioned at the by now slightly damp book lying on the grass. “It’s not. This is what happens when I don’t do enough research. I was so excited about the idea, I never looked for what had become of it.” She walked — stumbled — to the book and laid it open, then pointed a hoof at the page. “There.” Applejack and Zecora both moved closer. The zebra showed vague interest, but that soon faded and she turned away with a quiet snort. Applejack read a little longer, brow furrowed, but eventually gave up and turned a pleading face to Twilight. “You’re gonna have to explain this in words that ain’t got more syllables than Ah have legs, Twilight.” A light breeze set the pages of the book rustling and flipping but Twilight didn’t seem to notice, or care. She turned and seated herself, facing the Boutique but not quite looking directly at it. After a short silence Applejack moved up beside her and gently nuzzled Twilight’s ear. “You ain’t blamin’ yourself for this, y’hear? Now tell me what’s goin’ on.” “Twilight has found a hidden wrong will seldom stay that way for long.” Applejack’s angry glare was enough to put even Zecora off her stride for a moment, but she continued walking back to the pair, and even managed a slight smile. The zebra didn’t sit, but looked at Twilight. “Your farmer friend, however, is right. Do not blame yourself, Twilight.” Twilight snorted and put her ears back and looked as if she were about to physically attack Zecora. Instead she looked up at Applejack with wide, bloodshot eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. Then, as if answering a call, Twilight slowly moved towards the Boutique. Her horn began to glow gently as she spoke. “I don’t blame myself. I simply know I am partly responsible for whatever happened to Rarity,” she said, before releasing the spell she had built up. The Visio Externalis reasserted itself over the building, again revealing the curse in all its malevolence and extent. Its tendrils snaked faintly around the entire exterior, bunching tightly at the door, whilst a few threads seemed to have begun a slow trail across the ground. Others, higher up the building, waved in an ethereal breeze. They quickly faded to invisibility as they stretched away into the bright sunlight. “You see?” “Ah see the same thing Ah saw before, sugarcube, this don’t prove... holy Celestia’s shiny hiney that thing just moved!” Applejack stepped back, eyes wide. The magic of the curse crawled and whipped as it seemed to tighten its grip on the building. Tendrils hanging in the air withdrew and the whole shape began to glow a dull red, tinted purple by the presence of Twilight’s magic. Suddenly it relaxed, like a sea anemone easing back out to the water. “It reacted to a spell I cast.” “So you can sceer that critter? Good for you, Twilight! Ah told you we’d—” “No!” Twilight looked away. “It only reacts to the spell because it came from it and doesn’t want to go back! I unleashed this, Applejack!” “Now Ah know you’re a bale short of a haystack, Twilight... what are you doin’?” Applejack backed away a step as Twilight’s horn began to glow, and then her eyes. The unicorn stood, her whole body tensed as if she were about to spring into a leap. “There’s more to it. More here that I can’t see.” Twilight’s voice was almost a whisper. She turned blank, tearing eyes to look straight at Zecora. “You knew, Zecora. You knew!” Twilight grunted with effort. Magic began to stream out of her hooves, a flat, baleful fire that hugged close to the ground. By now a small crowd had gathered, drawn by the sight of the curse now visible around the Boutique, and Applejack could hear their nervous muttering as Twilight ramped up her power. None except a very few had ever seen her in full form. The grass beneath her feet wilted as a crackling purple aura enveloped her form. “Uh, Twilight, Ah appreciate a good lightshow as much as the next pony, but...” “In sympathy with hidden things,” Twilight shouted, as if trying to make herself heard about the silent maelstrom. “That’s what she said!” “Say what?” Twilight was floating now, legs hanging limp as the power flowing through her body lifted her into the air. She closed her eyes and then opened them again, revealing sights Applejack would later refuse to even discuss. Twilight’s mouth hung open in a wordless scream as the magic curled and twisted around her form, spiralling to a point just above her horn. “Revealed at night,” she gasped. “Their power sings!” Where Applejack had expected light, she saw a stream of darkness, spiralling ribbons of something that seemed to be the very essence of night compressed, distilled and shot into the sky. The sunlight began to fade, the sky turning from blue to burnished orange, then to blackness that chilled the very air. There was a scream, but Applejack ignored it to watch Twilight. A low rumble of thunder rolled across the sky as the power left her all at once and Twilight fell back to earth, unconscious, her body twisting limply. Applejack threw herself beneath her friend and grunted as Twilight’s full weight loaded on her back. “Twilight...” She laid Twilight down on the ground as gently as she could and shook the unconscious form of her friend. “Twilight, why can Ah see stars?” Twilight coughed and shuddered, then opened her eyes. “Applejack?” “There y’are sugarcube,” Applejack replied softly. “Ah won’t ask what you just done...” “Revealed at night,” Twilight repeated. She struggled against Applejack’s hold until she could twist a foreleg free, then pointed at the Boutique . “Not even magic can reveal it all in daylight.” “Well Ah guess it...” Applejack’s words died in her throat as she looked toward the Boutique. The shouting around them had faded too, as the by now rampaging crowd had either left or realised that the world wasn’t ending today. A few of the more curious had even ventured closer but not too close once they saw what Twilight had revealed. A shape stood outside the Boutique, barely visible even in the pseudonight Twilight’s magic had created. Its head was tilted back, its mane lifted as if caught in a breeze. Eyes closed. A lock of hair floated separate from its mane, twisting away in the frozen moment. Any pain forgotten, Twilight and Applejack stepped forward to flank the ghostly form, eyes wide, unable to fully comprehend what they were seeing. Twilight’s hoof stumbled against a hole in the ground; the same hole she had seen the day before, misshapen, shallow. “Is that...”Applejack swallowed. “Are those...” Twilight nodded. Between them, from behind the shoulders of Rarity’s shade, a pair of dragon wings rose high against the starry sky.