//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 // Story: The Mystic and The Mundane // by Equus Pallidus //------------------------------// She held her breath as she poured over the ancient scroll again, fearful that even the barest exhalation would cause the yellowed parchment to crumble to dust before she had committed its contents to memory. No one in the archives had had any idea how old the document was, though one of the linguistics experts recognized that the flowing, handwritten script was in an alphabet which hadn’t been found in any sources more recent than two thousand years old, and even then it appeared only in the most formal sources, accompanied by more recent lettering. The prevailing thought was that it was archaic even then, used only by the elite and academics out of a sense of tradition. She suspected that there was some spell of another that would have been able to narrow down the date, but the mere suggestion had nearly sent the scholar into an apoplectic fit, ranting about the risk of damaging the ancient vellum, and that the only reason she was allowed to levitate it was that it was the least destructive means of transporting the scroll. She had let the subject drop, knowing that while her status as the Princess’s “most faithful student” gave her certain privileges within the high security sections of the archives, those privileges mattered less and less the older the text in question was. Besides which, after four months without any success, Twilight Sparkle hadn’t expected much of the scroll in question, anticipating yet another dead end in her research. Two months had passed since that day. Looking back, she had briefly considered another jaunt through time, just so she could have gone back to that moment and slapped herself for even thinking of risking the fragile document, causality be damned. She turned away from the scroll for a moment to breath, looking across the pillars of texts she had needed to translate the text. Each of the five stacks stood a full head taller than her, and even with all of those sources, the translation was imperfect, incomplete. But the key portions of the scroll before her had been finished at last, and she allowed herself to smile broadly, as broadly as she had during her first day with the scroll, when she made her first breakthrough with it. She had only had two texts at that point, helpfully provided by the linguist after he had calmed down, and she had begun to skim the document, looking for one key phrase. Even that simple action had taken an inordinate amount of time, as she carefully compared the flowing script on the parchment with the more sanitized samples from the reference texts. Part of her mind chastised her decidedly unscholarly approach to the process, arguing that merely searching for that one phrase ran the risk of missing some subtle nuisance of language, or that perhaps that phrase hadn’t existed when the scroll was written, and what she was looking for was described differently and that she had already missed it. That part of her mind promptly quieted down when, at the end of the third paragraph, her eyes settled on that phrase. Three simple words. Three simple words which would necessitate the thorough reading of the thousands of other words contained on the scroll. Three simple words which would necessitate spending every spare moment she could afford to be away from Ponyville sequestered away in the deepest vault of the Canterlot archives, painstakingly translating the ancient scroll into modern Equestrian. Three simple words that forced her to go over those first three paragraphs again, carefully this time, the beginning of the current pillars of texts besides her forming as she cross-referenced the words before her with other sources. Three simple words. “Elements of Harmony.” **** Now, she sat in the back of one of the royal chariots, pulled by a pair of white pegasi, each clad in the golden armor of Celestia’s royal guard. The Princess had been gracious enough to lend them to her most faithful student for the unicorn’s return trip to Ponyville, though the alicorn had been openly disappointed that Twilight was leaving so suddenly. The unicorn’s resolve had nearly faltered when she had seen the sadness blemish her mentor’s timeless features, every ounce of willpower she could muster barely restraining the urge to wrap her hooves around the Princess in a great hug, apologize for the lies and deceit, and admit what she’d been pursuing in secret for the preceding six months. ‘But you didn’t,’ a small voice whispered to her. ‘You lied, again, to Princess Celestia, right to her face, and told her you had to rush back to Ponyville because of a “situation” that had come up.’ The mare shook her head, trying to dispel the sense of sorrow that weighed down on her. ‘You’ve betrayed her trust in you, her “most faithful student,” and you can’t talk to her without lying through your teeth. It’s a good thing you aren’t Loyalty or Honesty, or this entire endeavor would be pretty ironic,’ the voice, which Twilight had decided must be her conscience, continued, going over an argument she’d used against herself more times than she cared to count in the last few months. She had come to view the short denunciation as her penance for lying to her teacher, her friends, even her family on the few occasions that Shining Armor had asked about her pet project. ‘And let’s not forget about Generousity. You’ve been focusing on your own project at the expense of both of the Princesses, not to mention your friends. How many times have AJ and Rarity asked for your help with something, only for you to beg off? How about Fluttershy? And you’ve blown off…how many of Pinkie’s parties, now? Twelve? I mean, sure, she throws them at the drop of a hat…but then, you actually went to the Hat Dropping party, so maybe that’s a bad example.’ Her conscience laughed at that, snapping Twilight from her reverie. That was…new. Since her inner compass had started lecturing her, it had always been the same speech, highlighting her failure to match two of her friend’s Elements, her duplicity towards the Royal Sisters, and its tone was so serious, so focused, so…her. Her friends, and a third Element, hadn’t been subjects her subconscious had used in its invective…and she had never, ever laughed. Twilight recognized the tone of that laugh, though she’d never before heard it flavored with her voice. That laugh hadn’t been a bitter laugh of sorrow, a laugh forced through disappointment, even a laugh of amusement from her subconscious at the expense of her conscious mind. It had been the laughter of cruelty, as her conscience had stepped in to kick her while she was down. She sunk low into the well of the chariot, repeating to herself that it would all be over soon, trying to convince herself that the Princesses would understand her motives for keeping them both in the dark. She barely heard when one of the guards looked back over his shoulder, shouting over the rushing wind that they’d be reaching Ponyville momentarily. The unicorn sat up, nodding, as she prepared herself to meet with her friends, hoping that the pegasus hadn’t noticed when the wind caught a single tear, whisked away as the Element of Magic forced her mouth into a smile. **** The five mares sat patiently in the main room of the Ponyville Library, waiting for Twilight’s arrival. Well, technically, three mares sat patiently. Rainbow Dash, as was her habit, was perched atop one of the bookcases, watching the door, resembling nothing quite so much as a rainbow colored falcon, anxiously awaiting the appearance of its prey, and Pinkie, of course, had no concept of “patience,” though her exuberance was at least confined to a constant quiver and the occasional nervous giggle. Twilight had sent a note ahead through Spike, the relative sloppiness of her handwriting betraying her excitement about something, but she had provided no details, merely requesting that her five friends were waiting together when she returned from her latest trip to Canterlot. So, they waited, each privately wondering what the lavender mare was so anxious to tell them which couldn’t simply be explained in a letter. “Maybe she’s getting married?” Pinkie finally blurted out, able to control herself no longer. The others all looked her, briefly considering the possibility that their bookish friend had been vanishing off to Canterlot for a series of romantic rendezvous with some stallion (or, as four of them mentally allowed, mare) she had met at her brother’s wedding. The timing was just about right, as her mysterious trips beginning two weeks after that hectic day. And she had been particularly secretive about what she was doing two days out of every week. Finally, Rarity shook her head. “I rather doubt it, Pinkie. After all, this IS Twilight we’re talking about. If she’d been seeing someone, I doubt she’d have been able to keep it a secret from all of us,” she said, before adding with a slightly catty chuckle, “if only because she’d have asked one of us for instructions on dating.” A mildly troubling thought crossed her mind. “She hasn’t, has she? Asked any of you? Or tried to find a book on it, Spike?” As she was answered with a chorus of no’s, she nodded, returning to the tea Spike had offered them. “Well, there you are, she probably isn’t seeing anypo-” The door flew inward, slamming noisily against the wall as Twilight trotted into the library, smiling broadly as she confirmed that her friends were all in attendance. The recoil from the door striking the wall was enough that it rebounded closed, clicking shut again just as the unicorn’s tail cleared its path. Spike shook his head, having been forced to endure the constant din of wood-on-wood while Twilight had been practicing that particular entrance, not to mention the colorful vocal outbursts on the earlier attempts that had seen the door’s rebound catching her on the flank or, in a particularly poorly planned practice prance, square in the face. The cost of so much time spent among royalty, he had reasoned - an acquired taste for dramatic entrances. As her friends all opened their mouths to speak, Twilight held up a forehoof. “One second, girls,” she said, her tone clearly making it a command, not a request. The lavender unicorn then closed her eyes, her horn flaring into a brilliant, almost painfully bright, violet aura. The glow continued to grow in strength, forcing all present to look away, save Pinkie, who had apparently added “sunglasses” to the list of emergency provisions she had squirreled away throughout the town, allowing her to produce a pair from beneath an end table. The seconds ticked by as heat began to accompany the ever expanding sphere of purple energy, the temperature swiftly rising from the slight, almost pleasant chill of a brisk autumn afternoon to the heat of high noon in Appleloosan summer. The air around the unicorn’s horn began to hiss with the sound of dust being burnt away by the intense heat, and despite the effort of focusing that much power, Twilight’s brow was devoid of sweat, the moisture evaporating as quickly as it could form. Still, she focused every last bit of her power on the spell, giving it her full attention, not noticing that she was forgetting to breath. She held the power within her horn as long as she was able, until she smelt the acrid stench of her own coat beginning to singe, a smell she was not entirely unaccustomed to from past experiments with vastly powerful magic. With one final mental push, she released the spell, falling the her knees as a wave of energy pulsing out, covering every surface within the library with a shimmering midnight blue light, the light’s passage accompanied by a soft, wordless whisper, interspersed with the unicorn’s labored breathing. Fluttershy tentatively uncurled from fetal position she had assumed, shivering as the temperature dropped lower than it had been before the unicorn’s spell work. “Is…is it safe now?” the pegasus asked, her voice a gentle squeak, trying desperately to ignore that her breath had formed into mist as she spoke. “Well, sugar cube, ah reckon that depends,” Applejack drawled, cautiously, “if you consider it “safe” that Twi looks ta have sent us up to tha moon.” She walked towards the nearest window, and looked out, seeing nothing beyond but an expanse of flat, empty white land and, from what she could she, empty, black sky. At the earth pony’s pronouncement, the yellow pegasus ducked her head back beneath her hind legs and covered herself with her wings, whimpering to herself, while the others turned to stare, wide-eyed, at their friend. “We…aren’t…on the moon,” Twilight said as she shakily stood, still trying to catch her breath. The spell had been more taxing than she had anticipated, and it had never crossed her mind that the sheer amount of focus required would somehow distract her body from otherwise involuntary actions. She shuddered as she imagined what could have happened if she’d passed out, and the accumulated power had discharged wildly. Looking at the Fluttershy’s shaking form on the floor, she decided not to voice those particular concerns. “Sorry…for startling everypony. It’s called the “Our Own Little World” spell…it’s meant to provide…privacy,” she explained, glossing over what particular type of action that privacy was usually meant to protect. Judging from the slight smirk and knowing glance Rarity was currently directing at her, the white unicorn knew exactly what the spell had been designed for. “It stops anypony from eavesdropping, or looking into the protected space, and also creates an illusion to keep the…participants from getting…distracted by outside stimuli,” she continued, desperately hoping that her less magically inclined friends would simply accept her description without developing a sudden interest in the origins and intended purpose of the spell in question. Or, even worse, developing a sudden interest in why she had decided to learn it, as the violet mare doubted she could lie convincingly enough to fool Pinkie, let alone Applejack. Taking a moment to finish catching her breath, she levitated the saddle bags from her back, setting them next to the warded door, and smiled at Spike as her assistant brought over a burgundy velvet pillow for her to sit on…the smile freezing in place as Rarity began to speak. “Twilight, darling, I’m sorry, but I simply have to ask,” the mare began, and Twilight felt her eyelid twitch, briefly wondering how suspicious it would be to supernaturally gag the other unicorn, rather than let her finish her thought. “But that spell you cast…oh, forgive me, dear, but…I was under the impression it was a fairly simple spell. I mean, even I myself have cas-…caught wind of any number of unicorns whom can perform it without issue, and they’re nowhere near your abilities.” It was Twilight’s turn to smirk knowingly, easily catching the fashionista’s near slip. She relaxed, feeling assured that Rarity wouldn’t reveal any of the spell’s particulars, not if it meant implicating herself in the practice of those particulars. Unfortunately, that bit of protection did nothing to alter the sad truth that the designer’s unfortunate, intimate knowledge of the enchantment left Twilight to explain a slightly less embarrassing, slightly more controversial secret. She slowly stepped onto the pillow, trying to gather her thoughts, acutely aware of eleven eyes fixed on her, Fluttershy half-peeking from behind her wing. As the unicorn tucked her forelegs beneath her body, she mentally shook her head, dismissing the notion that she could lie to the others about the issue at hand, even by omission. ‘Of course’, her conscience argued, ‘you’ve already done that, since you left out the specifics of the spell’s purpose.’ She narrowed her eyes, frowning at the thought. ‘Really? Did you really want to explain to all of them what that spell does? We don’t really have time to deal with that particular discussion right now. It has nothing to do with my honesty, or lack thereof,’ she reminded herself, crossly, while wondering how ludicrous it was to be having an argument with her conscience. ‘Just saying. I mean, what’s to be embarrassed about? Not like you’ve even used the spell before…at least, not with anypony else around…’ the little voice taunted. The purple mare blushed, wondering where that had come from. Commentary on her morality, she had come to expect over the past months, but she’d never been so hard on herself on a personal level. ‘I don’t know, seems you were pretty hard on yourself the last time. Left a bit of a bruise, didn’t you?’ she cracked, mockingly. ‘T…that’s enough out of you! I’m a national hero, the personal apprentice to the Princess, the most powerful unicorn in the known world, and my facial features conform to a traditional, objective standard of beauty! Fame, prestige, power, and beauty! I could get practically any stallion I wanted!’ she mentally shouted back at the cruel part of her psyche, trying to hide her embarrassment behind false bravado. ‘Oh, I’m sure you could get plenty of stallions,’ she whispered to herself, the cruel impulse’s tone changing to a throaty whisper, if that could be properly applied to an entity without a throat, and Twilight was sure she could hear the smirk her subconscious was wearing, before it demonstrated why trying to argue with yourself was a terrible idea. ‘If you put half as much effort into finding a stallion, as you have into this little project, you could probably have a whole herd of them by now. But this isn’t about finding a stallion, is it? All this work, just so she’ll look at you the way you look at her…’ Stunned by the venom in her own words, Twilight blinked, her reverie broken as she realized that her friends were still waiting for an explanation, and were currently staring at a pony whose face was a mix of shock, acute embarrassment, and heartache, all for no discernible reason. “Twi…you alright there, sugarcube?” Applejack asked, the farmer’s face marked with the same honest concern as the others, mixed with a slight hint of fear. Even Pinkie’s near perpetual smile was gone, replaced with a look of genuine worry. She coughed, shaking her head to clear away the last echoes of her own insult, before she fixed a smile on her lips. “Oh, yeah, Applejack…I’m fine, really. Just…still a bit shaken from what I’ve been working on, and the spell,” she answered, and she thought she heard a faint laugh ring in her ears as the lie passed her lips. She suddenly wondering if the voice really was merely her conscience, or if the stress she was putting herself through was having a more profound effect on her, and made a mental note to find some books on psychology.. Later, after her friend’s had left. “And Rarity…yes, usually the spell I cast is simple enough to be used by just about any unicorn. I’m not surprised you’ve…heard of it being cast,” she explained, indulging her own little playful smirk as the dressmaker’s cheeks flushed slightly, though the wink indicated she’d taken the comment as it had been meant – in jest. “The difference is, usually the spell is only designed to stop ponies from overhearing whoever’s within the warded space, or peeking in. The version I cast is…quite a bit more powerful than that, which is why it took so much more effort on my part.” There was a beat, and she briefly hoped that nopony would ask the next question in the progression. She had still kept her promise not to lie, either directly or by leaving out a key detail. After all, the question had been why the spell was so hard for her to cast, not… “What does the spell protect against now, Twilight? Who could be watching you, or us, that would need so much power to block?” Spike asked, and the mare that had facilitated his hatching had to struggle to keep her head from slumping forward in defeat. She closed her eyes, taking a deep, calming breath as she prepared for the worst. “About that…well, as for the first question, it now also provides a barrier against scrying, teleportation, pre-placed surveillance spells, and pretty much any other kind of magical observation,” she began, getting the easy part out of the way first. Another brief pause elapsed, as she seriously considered omitting the last tiny detail of the spell’s protection, but as the thought crossed her mind, she heard that faint, taunting laughter again, and any possibility of breaking her promise to herself was forgotten. She refused to let…well, herself, technically, have the last laugh. ‘Seriously, psychology texts. Right after this. Maybe even go see a doctor’ she thought, grimly, shuddering as she remembered the fiasco the last time she had been put herself under so much stress. The town had narrowly averted disaster, and almost everypony had forgiven her, but Big Macintosh still hadn’t said more than two words to her since he’d grudgingly returned her doll. “As for the who…well…if I calculated right…then nopony in Equestria should be able to penetrate the warding field.” The unicorn smiled at each of her friends in turn, trying to look reassuring, while inwardly chanting ‘Still not a lie, still not a lie, still not a lie…’ “Wow…nopony? So not even the Princesses can see us right now?” Pinkie asked as Twilight’s eyes met the earth pony’s. She briefly considered screaming, deciding against it only because Fluttershy had just finished uncurling herself, an apologetic smile on the timid mare’s face, and Twilight didn’t have the heart to so callously send the pegasus back into her defensive curl. Regrettably, that same desire to spare her yellow friend also precluded her from setting the library on fire, making herself explode, or any of the other possible diversions that jumped to mind, to keep from answering the final question. “That’s…kind of the thing, Pinkie. It’s not so much that ‘not even the Princesses’ can watch us right now, as it is ‘the Princesses in particular, above all others’ can’t see us right now.” There was a short interlude of stunned silence, as her friends simply stared at the librarian, and she allowed herself to hope that they might take that revelation well, and not jump to any conclusions before she could explain. Technically, she reflected once that final hope was shattered, none of them jumped to conclusions. She felt that it would be far more accurate to describe the response of the other five ponies, and one dragon, currently in the library as a high speed dynamic entry to conclusions. **** Within one of the many towers in Canterlot Castle, two powerful beings sat in a private room. The room was not large, but neither was it small; twenty ponies or so could be seated within with space to spare, and slightly taller than it was wide at the highest point. The entire chamber had been formed from flawless marble, the floor of purest white joined seamlessly to the walls which gradually shifted through the shades of grey until they matched the midnight black of the domed ceiling, a stylized image of the golden sun and silver moon intertwined in peace at its center. No windows broke the plane of the walls, and the door leading back to the rest of the palace had been enchanted to blend perfectly into the wall while closed. The only furnishing was a plain table of ancient oak, with a single bowl of fruit placed atop it. The space was softly lit, though that light had no obvious source, seeming instead to suffuse the air itself, never allowing a shadow to be cast. By royal decree, the room was off-limits to all but the two beings who now occupied it, and a single maid, who dusted and replenished the fruit once per day, and delivered anything the room’s occupants required. Multiple layers of powerful protective magic ensured that that decree was obeyed, and it required the combined blessing of both princesses to allow passage through those protections. The Chamber of Dawn and Dusk was one of the few true sanctuaries for the Royal Alicorn Sisters, a room of serenity and balance, where they would retreat to discuss matters of policy, threats to the kingdom…and, on this occasion, the actions of a certain pale purple unicorn. Celestia sighed to herself contentedly as she eventually let the aura around her horn fade, done probing the wards her student had placed around the Ponyville library. She was pleased, and, if she was being honest with herself, more than a little surprised that the young unicorn’s spell was able to withstand her efforts to scry through it. She looked across the small tower chamber at her younger sister, Luna’s eyes fluttering open as her own magic faded away. “Any luck on your part, sister?” she asked with a slight smile, already aware of the answer before the Princess of the Night shook her head, her ethereal mane shimmering as it moved. “No, Tia, we - that is, I had no more luck than you did. Twilight Sparkle must be commended for her skill in weaving Night’s Embrace,” the younger alicorn said, genuinely impressed with the young unicorn’s control over the spell. “Though, you might want to warn her to pay more careful attention to the windows, next time she tries. I was unable to fully pierce the wards, but I was able to obtain certain general impressions about the warded space. If my young friend truly needed to ward off a foe as powerful as we two, then that bit of information might tilt the scales against her.” “Ponies these days tend to call it the ‘Our Own Little World’ spell, Luna, not ‘Night’s Embrace.’ And I think Twilight is probably the first to use it the way you intended it to be used in…centuries, at the least. Too little need for clandestine military strongholds these days, as opposed to…other sorts of clandestine activities.” The older sister chuckled, watching her little sister’s face screw up in confusion. “You see, Luna, when two ponies love each other very much…or three ponies, or a dozen…” Celestia began, before ducking out of the way of a telekinetically thrown pear, her chuckles growing into full laughter at the bright crimson blush contrasting against her sister’s midnight blue coat. “In any case…let’s be honest. If we really wanted to see what was going on, we have any number of artifacts tucked away that could shred my dear student’s protection to ribbons. Or we could just pool our strength and pierce it without having to even worry about finding one of them.” “Now, now, if you’re going to lay down these rules for our little game, you have to abide by them,” Luna playfully chided, retrieving the thrown pear with her magic, turning it end over end as she considered eating it. “Your student doesn’t know about those particular toys you have, nor is she aware of our…special abilities. It simply wouldn’t be sporting of us to use them to make her fail a test. Even if she isn’t aware she’s being tested.” Deciding she wasn’t hungry after all, Luna set the pear back in the bowl, nestling it against the curve of a banana. She looked up at the Solar Princess, her mirth temporarily forgotten. “She was crying as she left, you know. Again.” There was no accusation in her words, simply bare fact. Luna considered the young mare a friend, if not as close a friend as she might have wished, and it pained her to see the unicorn in distress. Twilight was still her sister’s protégé, though, and she respected the older alicorn enough not to challenge her methods. Slowly, the smile faded from Celestia’s lips, and she rested her head on the table. She knew her sister spoke the truth, and, if she were to be honest, it pained her far more than it did her sister to see her student in such misery. “It nearly kills me to do it, Luna. It truly does. It pains me to see her so anxious to leave, regardless of the other issues at hand. I may not show it often, but I do miss her time spent in residence at the palace.” She allowed herself a soft smile. “If her departure hadn’t also been marked by your return, I doubt I would have allowed it in the first place. But I must keep my priorities straight.” The darker alicorn returned the smile. She had heard the sentiment before, but it was always nice to be reminded of her sister’s love for her. “Still…I have to balance my personal feelings against what’s at stake. You know as well as I the potential consequences if we helped her, and she found out the truth. Nor can we forbid her research…you know what Twilight can be like, once she sets her mind to something.” Celestia sighed, facing one of those rare moments when she truly felt her immense age. “Better we let her exhaust herself following the trails we’ve planted over the years, and hope she eventually gives up on her own. Otherwise…I’ll manufacture a crisis, if it comes to it. Something just threatening enough to distract her, but that the Elements can resolve easily enough that the research won’t seem worth the effort.” The elder sister closed her eyes, once more envious of her little ponies and the comfort they drew by invoking her name in their prayers, a comfort denied to her. The two alicorns sat in silence for several minutes, Celestia considering how best to handle the potential consequences of her student’s search, while Luna waited, her own mind considering a far more frightening possibility. The possibility that, despite all of the false trails she and her sister had left behind over the ages, preparing for just such an eventuality, Twilight Sparkle wouldn’t need to accept that the research was hopeless. Luna, Princess of the Moon, Goddess of the Night and Dreams, the second most powerful being in all of Equestria…feared what would happen if the young lavender unicorn succeeded. **** To the extent that Twilight had wanted her friends all on the same page after she explained herself, she was forced to call her little meeting a rousing success. The other five Bearers of the Elements of Harmony, as well as Spike, were all very much on the same page. The problem at present was that the page they were on wasn’t merely different from the one Twilight herself was on, but that it was in a completely different book. And possibly another language entirely. Truthfully, she hadn’t expected her friends to take the revelation that she was hiding them from the Princesses in particular particularly well. She had expected confusion from Spike, histrionics from Rarity, whimpering from Fluttershy, shouting from Dash and Applejack, and…Pinkie-Pieing from Pinkie. But she had at least expected a chance to explain herself, to explain why she was hiding them from the Royal Sisters. Thus, she had been completely unprepared when Dash had suddenly launched herself from her perch, the pegasus’ head striking her square in the chest, the force of the blow knocking her onto her back, forcing the air from her lungs before her head struck the bare wooden floor. While she had been dazed, Applejack had produced a length of rope, seemingly from nowhere, and lassoed Twilight’s legs, the rough cord biting painfully into her flesh as she was pulled into the center of the room. She tried to reach out and sever the rope with a simple burst of magic, only to find a mental barrier blocking her power from being channeled past her horn. In disbelief, she flicked her eyes up, seeing the tip of her horn enveloped in a pale blue glow, before she quickly cast her gaze towards Rarity. Sure enough, the white unicorn’s horn was bathed in that same glow, the dressmaker’s brow furrowed in concentration. Despite herself, Twilight was impressed that her friend even knew a binding hex, though she would have rather found at in different circumstances. A quick mental push confirmed that her friend’s cantrip was weak enough for the more experienced magician to shatter with the proper counter-spell…a counter-spell which was designed to harm the attacker. On the one occasion she had successfully used it during her training, the spell had generated a backlash powerful enough to momentarily paralyze Princess Celestia’s right legs and wing, despite multiple layers of protective charms. Against an unwarded opponent, especially one so much weaker than her, the backlash had the potential to be significantly more dangerous, if not fatal. Unwilling to risk her friend’s life over a misunderstanding, she tried to smile reassuringly, though the growing sense of fear made it difficult. “Girls...I can explain everything, really, I promise, so…do you think you could maybe, you know, let me go?” she asked, trying to keep the edge of panic from her voice. A quick glance at her friends’ faces, at the stares of barely-contained fury being trained on her, seemed to indicate that “release” was rather low on the list of options. She swallowed loudly as Pinkie aimed the party cannon at the bound unicorn’s head, not even bothering to wonder where the earth pony had hidden that bit of equipment away. “I’m, uh, I’m sorry for lying to you, but I can’t let the Princesses know about this yet, becaumpf,” she began to explain, until she was interrupted by a pale yellow hoof being inserted into her mouth. The leg that hoof was attached to then swiftly pressed down, slamming her head once more against the floor, and forcing Twilight Sparkle to face what may well have been the most frightening visage she had ever beheld. Fluttershy looked down at her friend, her earlier fear forgotten, the pegasus’ normally timid features twisted into a scowl that carried the force of a physical blow. Her long mane hung forward, partially blocking the light, shadows dancing across the mare’s face. The worst of it, though, were the eyes. When Twilight had looked at her other friends, she had seen the anger, felt it in their stares, but it had been tempered, if only barely. Whatever else could be said about them, they were in control of themselves. But as the purple unicorn was forced to look up into Fluttershy’s eyes…there was no restraint, no control. The yellow pegasus, the most reserved, most understanding of her friends, the pony who could see the good in any living creature, the pony who had been so pure-hearted that even the Spirit of Chaos had been unable to corrupt her save through brute force, looked down on her with unbridled hatred in her eyes. The worst of it, though, was that Fluttershy wasn’t simply staring down at Twilight with those hate-filled eyes. The captive mare flinched as she felt the Stare brought to bear against her, feeling a twinge of sympathy for the cockatrice that had once petrified her. “Now, listen very carefully, because if I have to repeat myself, you won’t like the consequences,” the pegasus said slowly, her voice strained with the struggle to keep her emotions in check. “When I take my hoof from your mouth, you’re going to tell us what you did to our friend Twilight, and how we can get her back, or else…” ‘A changeling?’ Twilight thought, the pieces finally falling into place. ‘Of course, they think I’m a changeling, that’s why they’re reacting like this. I’ve been acting so strangely, and now I want to hide things from the Princesses, and the timing was just about right, and this all makes sense, but…’ Fluttershy chose that moment to pull her hoof from Twilight’s mouth, and in her panic her train of thought concluded verbally. “I’m not a changeling!” “Wrong answer.” The pegasus reared back on her hind legs, brought her forehooves together, and shifted her full weight forward, driving her hooves down into Twilight’s chest, directly between her shoulders. “Where is Twilight Sparkle!” the pegasus screamed, tears in her eyes, as a the unicorn howled of pain. The small corner of her mind that retained the capacity for coherent thought was grateful that Fluttershy had struck her, recognizing that if Rarity, Applejack, or Pinkie, with their heavier bone structure, had struck her with that much force, the blow would have almost certainly been fatal. That realization was, unfortunately, lost within a storm of pain and panic as her survival instincts triggered. Her friends all thought she was a monstrous spy that was holding the “real” her someplace, and the gentlest of them had decided that the best course of action was to beat the location out of her. “Once you ask twice, no need to be nice!” Fluttershy shouted as she brought her hooves up for a second strike. Twilight closed her eyes and braced herself as best as she could, the tight pull of the rope precluding any attempt to dodge. Worried her luck might not hold, and that she might be about to draw her final breath, she uttered a quick prayer to both Princesses, apologizing for deceiving them. She heard a loud crack, followed by the sound of hooves impacting against an unforgiving surface…wait, that wasn’t right. Her eyes flew open, her neck craning back to see Fluttershy covered in streamers, confetti slowly falling across the library. “Rarity, she’s doing that angry-rhyming-thing again!” Pinkie pointed out, thankful that the party cannon apparently had enough force to stagger her yellow friend without doing any visible harm. The white unicorn nodded grimly, and wrapped the pegasus in a telekinetic field, lifting her into the air while Applejack and Rainbow Dash exchanged confused glances. “Long story, we’ll tell you later,” Pinkie offered cryptically before she turned the cannon’s muzzle back towards the captive. When she was younger, Twilight had asked the Princess a question about prayer, after she had heard her father curse in the Princess’ name after a large book had fallen on his head. Celestia had smiled that impenetrable smile of hers, and had told her student that as a divine being, she was vaguely aware of it when anypony invoked her name, either in a prayer, an oath, or a curse. In situations where they particularly meant it, she could even, if she chose, view the circumstances of the invocation, a privilege she claimed to use during periods of boredom at Court, usually to watch weddings or, as she had delicately put it, “peak in on overly excitable young lovers.” She had chuckled at that, though her student hadn’t understood why at the time. She had been very clear, however, that she didn’t have any innate power to act upon those prayers, beyond how she could react to any other news that reached her. “I’m not that kind of Goddess” had been her vague explanation, and no amount of wheedling on her student’s part had produced any more details. With the alicorn’s agreement, she had conditioned herself, over the years, to avoid using the Princess’s name as anything other than a name. Only once before had she broken that conditioning, when while gathering magical reagents, she had become lost in the forests outside of Canterlot, and fallen into a deep trench, dislocating her shoulder. As night had fallen, she had prayed for Celestia to send help; three pegasi guards had arrived twenty minutes later, sent on the Princess’s orders. No supernatural response, no contrived means of rescue. She had called for help, and the Princess sent help. Based on that experience, then, she hadn’t expected anything to come of her second attempt at prayer. Indeed, she had fully expected that her warding spell would block even that powerful a means of communication. She had tried only on the off chance it would penetrate the ward, so that it could serve as a final good-bye to her mentor. Instead, against all logic, against everything the Princess had told her, it seemed that her prayer had, somehow, been answered. With Rarity’s concentration partially diverted to holding their enraged friend above the ground, Twilight felt the ward sealing her magic weaken. Exploiting that distraction, she wielded her magic with all the grace of a sledgehammer, shattering the mental barrier with the raw force of her innate power. The white unicorn flinched as her magic rebounded, falling hard on her rump as her hind legs gave out from underneath her. Without the magical field keeping her suspended, Fluttershy joined Rarity on the floor a second later, landing with a pained squeak in an unceremonious heap. Twilight winced in sympathy, sorry that she’d had to hurt her friends, despite their misguided actions. ‘Oh, yes. Telling the truth is working out so much better than leaving out a few key details. That might have just hurt them emotionally, if they ever found out. Physical pain is definitely preferable to that.’ She winced again, unable to deny the truth of her own statement, before a sharp pull on her legs brought her attention back to the moment, Applejack tugging on the rope to keep her bound as Rarity slowly climbed back to her feet. Recognizing she might not get a second opportunity, Twilight’s horn flared with reddish-purple light as she channeled two distinct spells at once, the rope binding her dissolving into mist as a protective bubble formed around her, a blast of steamers and confetti bouncing harmlessly off the mystic shell. Confident in the barrier’s ability to hold off her friends, at least in the short term, the purple mare tapped into her repertoire of healing spells…all three of them. The downside of being personally trained by an immortal being, she supposed, was that restorative magic was something of a low priority for such an entity. Twilight called upon the only recovery spell Celestia had taught her, an antiquated technique that channeled the magic directly from her body, healing from within, instead of focusing the energy through the horn and than directing it towards the injury. As a consequence, it was impossible to use to heal another pony, but required far less concentration and effort than the types of spells she had seen unicorn physicians cast. She took a deep, calming breath while her injuries mended, her mind drifting as the energy flowing through her had a sedating effect, masking the pain of the unnatural speed of her recovery. Another downside to the method the Princess had shown her, she reflected, since the sedation precluded the spell’s use in combat. She had asked, after she had recovered from the soporific effect for the first time, why a technique with such limiting flaws existed. “Because,” the alicorn had answered, gazing towards her sun, her normally serene voice tinged with sorrow, “since it doesn’t need a horn, anypony could be taught to cast it.” She had dismissed the young unicorn for the day after that cryptic comment, and the only other time the Princess mentioned the spell was the next day, when she asked Twilight to keep the spell a secret, and to never speak of it. The filly’s heart had leapt at the words, still young enough that the prospect of sharing a secret with the Solar Princess outweighed the pursuit of knowledge, eagerly agreeing as she basked in the goddess’ gentle smile. She had kept her promise, perhaps too zealously, almost completely avoiding any study of healing magic, other than a charm to suppress headaches, learned through narrow eyes after a particularly late night studying left her with an especially excruciating migraine, and a spell all unicorns were taught once they reached the “proper” age. She had been thankful she’d been taught that spell at home. As uncomfortable as she’d been while her mother had demonstrated how to properly activate the charm, the prospect of a goddess giving her that kind of instruction was mortifying. ‘Oh, does “mortifying” means “exciting” now? Or has your body just missed a memo somewhere? Unless you’re just reacting to your dear friends trying to tie you up. Wonder what those psychology books you keep threatening to find would say about that?’ Twilight’s eyes sprang open, the spell-induced tranquility dissipated by her subconscious’ vulgar comment. Her chest still ached with pain, the spell interrupted with its work unfinished, but it was the dull ache of an old bruise, rather than the sharp pain she had felt before the curtailed healing. She could breathe without flinching, though, so she looked out beyond the barrier. To her slight surprise, Applejack and Rarity were working together, the earth pony bucking against the shield rhythmically, the unicorn sending pulses of raw magic as she recovered her stance. Twilight had to give the white mare credit; she had severely underestimated Rarity’s knowledge of combat magic. Nonetheless, the designer was still massively outclassed by the royal protégée, and Applejack’s kicks, for all their physical power, may as well have been thrown pillows against the supernatural construct, though Twilight did take a moment to reinforce the barricade, just to be safe. Turning slightly, she saw Fluttershy crying softly. The purple unicorn would have been concerned that her yellow friend had been hurt in her fall, except that Pinkie had her locked in a hug and was smiling reassuringly at the pegasus while Rainbow Dash sat on her other side, looking bored, not anxious. She reasoned that the timid mare was simply coming down off the rush of adrenaline that had left her violently assertive. That only left the question of Spike’s whereabouts…a question answered as her assistant ran out of the kitchen, throwing the burning parchment to the floor and stamping it out. “No luck, girls. That’s the third scroll I’ve tried to send, and they’ve all just caught fire,” the young dragon announced, his voice muffled slightly by the barrier. “Looks like whatever spell that thing cast to trap us in here must be blocking my sending fire, too.” Twilight sighed to herself, at a loss for a way to convince them she wasn’t a changeling. Regrettably, her brother and Cadence had scattered the invasion force far and wide after the attack, and without a live subject to test on, there’d been no solid progress towards either detecting them, or neutralizing whatever allowed them to disguise themselves. That was ignoring the issue of her friends believing the results of a changeling detection spell cast by the changeling they were detecting, even if the magic had been available. Unless she wanted to forcibly pacify her friends, there was only option for her to take. She just wished that that option wasn’t quite so…cliché. She stomped down on the hardwood floor with her fore hooves, the sound loud enough to draw all attention in the room to her, even through the shield. Ignoring the angry glares, she turned towards Rainbow Dash, locking eyes with the cerulean mare. “Dash, I’m sorry, but…Daring Do Explores the Velvet Chasms, by Brain Shadow,” she said, simply, and allowed herself a slight smile as the blood visibly drained from the pegasus’ face. Her friend had accidentally included that “book” when she had returned several other Daring Do novels months before. Curious, Twilight had made it halfway through the loose sheaf of pages before Dash had crashed through her bedroom window in a panic, snatched up the manuscript, and flown off without a word. The unicorn had sat on her bed, legs tucked comfortably under the seats, her brain trying to confirm that yes, that had indeed happened. She was still dazed when the Pegasus returned several minutes later, sans pages, and begging Twilight not to tell anyone about what she had been reading. Twilight had agreed, and Dash had immediately bolted off, leaving her friend to wonder why the pegasus was so upset. Honestly, she was just thrilled the tomboyish mare was reading anything, Dash could have been reading Foalita for all the unicorn would have cared. She had made a mental note to talk to Rainbow Dash, gently, about it…until her mind finally caught up, and she realized with a slight smile why her friend would be embarrassed if it got out that something like that had been written by one Brain Shadow. She had no intention of revealing any of those details to the others, of course. She had made a promise to a friend, and while she might bend her word, she wouldn’t break it. Especially considering how close Dash was to Pinkie; she didn’t know how the earth pony had managed to appear inside a mirror, but she wasn’t anxious to learn what else she might be capable of to avenge a broken promise on behalf of her fellow prankster. Regardless, the awkward specifics of the occasion weren’t terribly important. What was important was that Dash remember that the incident had occurred nearly two months before the royal wedding, and follow to the rational conclusion that only the real Twilight Sparkle would know about it, thus proving that she was the real Twilight Sparkle. All eyes were on the blue pegasus, almost literally in Pinkie’s case, the pink pony’s face pressed up against the side of Dash’s head, as they waited for an explanation. Swallowing loudly, she stared back at Twilight, and nodded at her lavender friend, before she finally spoke. “Everypony…I’m pretty sure that’s really Twilight.”