Two pairs of golden eyes stared out from beside the great archway leading into the Castle of the Royal Sisters, watching the bridge, their eyes gleaming in the moonlight. Strange Fate had relayed the Princess of the Night’s orders to his partner, exactly as instructed, and the pair had quickly moved to secure the stretch of land around the ancient structure and the bridge. Admittedly, they had no idea what they were securing it for, or against, but that was of little concern; their Princess had commanded the area be made safe, and her will was done. Now, the two unicorns waited, either for the allotted hour to pass by, or for…something else to happen. The pair’s horns glowed dimly, their magic at hand but unshaped, primed to discharge as burst of pure concussive energy if their concentration were disrupted.
Shadow Pride was the first to notice, her senses more attuned to the particular magic at play. It started as a slight shimmer in the air, like what one would expect to see on a hot day at a beach. The shimmer danced, and grew, and soon the space before the bridge seemed to ripple and bend, as though it were a piece of set dressing being prodded at from behind. The mare raised a hoof towards it, and her partner nodded. His talent may not have been related to spatial disruption magic, but even an earth pony would have been able to see what was happening by that point. The pair watched in awe as reality itself was rent asunder, a literal tear formed in the world; the view of the Everfree Forest replaced by the Central Courtyard of Canterlot Castle. Through the rift, the two ponies assigned to guard the ancient structure could see their brothers and sisters of the Night Guard, muscles tensed, horns alight, wings flapping, awaiting the command to move. And there, at the head of them all, stood a nightmare made flesh.
Princess Luna’s lips were curled back in a grim smile, her horn blazing like a torch as she tore the very fabric of existence apart as easily as she could tear paper, her eyes black and empty as the void, her entire body bathed in a shimmered aura of moonlight. She stepped through the tear, her starry mane whipped into a frenzy by the powers she had bent to her will, grimacing as she once more felt the taint of the millennium old magic, so familiar, so twisted. She hated that her eternal night still held in this place, tainting what it once had been, but could do nothing to remit her sin; she shuddered to think what kind of power would be needed to shatter the illusion. Still behind her, her soldiers waited, watching, as her first gilded hoof set down on the grass of the Everfree, her second, her third, her fourth. Her heart beat quickly, her mind raced with fear, and yet se maintained a slow, stately gait, knowing that her speed was immaterial. Celestia had teleported directly to the chamber; if it weren’t already too late when she arrived, she would manage the situation on her own; if it were too late, a few more seconds would make no difference.
When the Moon Goddess had completely passed through the aperture, the guards behind her began to follow in an organized rush, pouring through the rip. None of them had been told where they were going or what they were meant to do when they arrived. None of them had asked. Their princess had appeared before them, the air itself crackling with her power, and they had followed without hesistation. In ages past, when it was denied to her, she would have viewed such blind loyalty as her royal due. Now, she recognized the implications of that faith, and honored it.
She was halfway from the portal to the castle’s entrance when it happened. She felt a chill run through her body, and the glow surrounding her horn dimmed significantly. The Princess of the Night’s eyes flew open as around her, her unicorns cried out in panic, their own horns dark; her pegasi grunted in exertion, suddenly heavier; her sure-footed earth ponies stumbled. On all of them, the glamoured image of the Night Guard flickered. Magic itself seemed to desert them, only for a moment, only for a few brief seconds, but the charge was broken, the guard looking towards their princess for guidance. Guidance she couldn’t offer them, as tears streamed silently down her face, leaving matted fur in their wake. Unable to find her voice, she raised her left forehoof, signaling the guards to hold. She glanced behind her, waiting until the last of the rallied Night Guard was through, and let the rift pull itself shut.
Drawing herself to her full height, she addressed the assembled ponies, speaking loudly enough to be heard, but not invoking the full Royal Voice, her message short but clear, “Wait here, all of you. I shall return shortly with further instructions.” Without waiting, she once more strode towards the castle at a dignified, purposeful pace. She nodded as she passed Strange Fate and Shadow Pride, disappearing into the grand entry hall. Then, with a discrete flash or her horn, Luna deadened the sound of her hooves against the marble floor, raised a wall of artificial darkness behind her…and broke into a dead run, the door thrown open as she rushed towards the central chamber, towards what was once the resting place of the Elements of Harmony, and what she knew, already, was their resting place once again.
As she passed through the final set of doors, her lurched to a stop, her heart lurching with her as Celestia’s head emerged from the hidden staircase, her horn aglow. As the Princess of the Sun stepped from behind the great stone form that had once held the dormant elements, her sister saw the final confirmation. Celestia’s wings were spread wide and level, her magical aura gently cradling the still, purple form resting on her back, the indigo mane draped against her neck.
Reverently, she lowered the body to the ground, legs tucked gently beneath. The younger alicorn slowly walked towards her sister, gaze locked on the motionless form, tears once more streaming from her eyes. Wordlessly, she reared back, and pulled her sister into a tight embrace, nuzzling the Sun Goddess as Celestia wrapped her legs around Luna, shedding tears of her own. “You were right, Luna. Twilight found the scroll, found the ritual, completed it,” Celestia acknowledged, her voice shaking. “My dear, sweet little student, always too clever for her own good,” she continued, wryly, pain breaking through. “If I had listened to you, sister…if we had put a stop to this earlier…”
“Nay, sister, hold your thoughts. Down that path lies madness and despair,” Luna admonished, shaking her head vehemently. “You thought the magic lost to the ages, the requisite knowledge locked safely away. You thought that it would take Twilight Sparkle years to replicate the spell, if she was even capable of doing so. This is not your fault, Tia.” Luna ended the embrace, her hooves landing gently on the marble floor. She looked down sorrowfully at the lavender-coated body, exchanging a sad smile at the peaceful countenance. “We had best retrieve the others from the chamber, sister. Then…my Night Guard stands ready outside the castle, awaiting orders.”
Celestia closed her eyes and drew a deep, steadying breath, a strange look passing over her face for the briefest of moments, before she nodded, and walked down the steps, her sister in tow, to carry on the grim, sacred task ahead of them.
****
Twenty minutes had passed since Luna had entered the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters, and her guards still stood at the ready. The initial rush of adrenaline had passed, replaced with a more subdued energy, as the assembled ponies whispered amongst themselves, wondering what was happening within the stone walls, when Luna would return with further orders.
The wait would be shorter than most had assumed, as Luna suddenly emerged from the palace, and the Night Guard snapped to attention. When the dark armored ponies saw Princess Celestia step out behind the Moon Goddess, it took every ounce of discipline that had been drilled into them over the past months to keep their jaws from falling open, and even that was not enough for some of them, especially when the Solar Goddess raised her head to gaze upon the assembled soldiers.
Even years after her return, Luna was, in many ways, an unknown quantity in the eyes of her subjects. She could go from playful to serious in an instant, and what she found worthy of uproarious laughter one day, the next she would meet with disdain. Someponies found that quality endearing, found that it made the darker alicorn more approachable; others found it terrifying, still frightened that she would return to the path of evil and again try to bring about the eternal night, or simply destroy everypony and be done with it. Regardless of one’s personal feelings, the Princess of the Night stood in stark contrast to the Princess of the Day, the benevolent alicorn who had ruled over Equestria for most of recorded history, and all of popular history. The caring, compassionate alicorn, who cared deeply for her subjects. The good-natured alicorn who was known to, on occasion, indulge in a harmless prank, always with a serene smile on her face.
The white-coated alicorn who gazed out across the assembled ponies, surrounded by a corona of solar energy, her eyes hard and tormented.
The Night Guard gazed on the Solar Princess with a mixture of fear and awe, the unicorns instinctively taking a step away from the maelstrom of power that surrounded the alicorn, and waited, waited for her to speak, waited for her to proclaim eternal day, waited for her to sing the song that would end Equestria. Seeing their normally serene princess in such a state left them with a strange, unnamable fear, and more than one pony wondered if they were about to face karmic retribution for setting ants on fire as foals. They steadied themselves, expecting to hear the Royal Voice, accustomed to it from Luna’s occasional use. There was speculation that the princesses channeled magic through the Voice, compelling obedience in those who heard it. Others suspected that it was merely the raw power of the alicorn’s own personality. It made little difference, in the end. For when Celestia spoke, her voice was neither loud nor booming.
“Everypony, listen very carefully to what I am about to say,” the Sun Goddess said, her voice hard, and level, and, in some primal sense, terrifying. It was the kind of voice a spider would use to converse with a fly, that a cat would use to greet a mouse. “First and foremost, let me make myself unequivocally clear on one point. Under no circumstances are any of you to divulge anything you have seen or will see, or think you have seen, or have guessed at, or might later deduce, to anypony, ever. The only thing you are to tell the ponies you are gathering is that their Princesses require their presence. For all intents and purposes, each and every one of you spent this night in Canterlot, resting. If I ask you, nay, if I and my sister, together, order you to truthfully recount the events of this night, you are to claim you never left Canterlot.”
The Princess of the Sun stopped, and her horn flared to life, the solar fire surrounding her glowing more intensely, plumes of flame leaping from her body. “If I ever hear anypony speak of this night, if I ever hear your foals speak of this night, if I hear your descendents a thousand years hence speak of this night…you will beg, you will wish, you will pray, that the rumors about those I punish are true. But let me assure you, my little ponies…I do not send all those who displease me to the moon.
“I can do so much worse.”
For a terrible instant, there was no sound among the assembled stallions and mares. Not a word was uttered, not a breath taken, their very hearts frozen in their chests by Celestia’s threat. Satisfied that she was completely understood, she continued. “This night, a terrible tragedy has befallen all of Equestria. The six mares who wielded the powers of the Elements of Harmony…have died.” She paused again, giving the guard time to realize the implication of that news. “Much as it pained all involved, this possibility was accounted for, and the Bearers provided lists of the ponies they wished to be notified, in this eventuality.” She took a breath, steadying herself, checking her composure. “Luna,” she began, her gaze still focused on the assembled ponies, “of the pegasi here assembled, who are your six fastest fliers? Not the most agile. Raw speed.”
Luna looked out at her guards, eyes shimmering as she looked through the glamours, considering carefully before she answered. “Swift Wing, Cloud Bucker, Peregrine, Arrow Flight, Tail Wind, and Lazy Afternoon, sister. Though obviously, none near as fast as…”
Celestia cut her sister off, quirking an eyebrow as she continued to gaze out at the guards. “Lazy Afternoon?”
“Always took it as a challenge, your highness,” the stallion in question answered quickly, less the distressed princess make an example out of him.
“Very well. The six of you are to fly to Cloudsdale at best speed. Once you arrive, seek out the royal administrator for the city; at this hour, I suspect she will be found at her residence. Upon locating her, instruct her to provide the sealed files marked Kindness and Loyalty. Find the ponies listed in those files, and bring them to Canterlot as quickly as possible. Commandeer chariots if they aren’t especially quick fliers. If they refuse to accompany you, you are authorized to compel them by force. But remember. Tell. Them. Nothing.” Each of the final three words was punctuated by a flare of magic arcing from the alicorn’s aura. “Now, go.”
As the six pegasi sped off, Celestia turned her attention to the twenty-six which remained. “The rest of you are to fly to Ponyville as quickly as you’re able. Upon arrival, you are to find the mayor, and retrieve the sealed files she received marked Honesty, Laughter, and Generousity. Beyond that, your orders are the same as those sent to Cloudsdale. Find the ponies, and bring them to Canterlot. Also, retrieve the baby dragon, Spike, from the town’s library. Be aware, some of the ponies on one of the lists live some distance from the town itself. Now, go.” The remaining pegasi flew off, leaving only unicorns and earth ponies to feel Celestia’s withering gaze.
“Inside the castle, you will find the Bearers. Five of them are laid on litters that my sister formed from pure moonlight. The earth ponies are to lift them, while the unicorns help to stabilize with their magic. If a single hair on their coats is out of place from being jostled, the one at fault will find himself or herself reassigned to the darkest reaches of the frozen north, without survival gear or rations.” Celestia concentrated, and her horn flared brighter, for an instance painful to look at, her face darkening. “And by my own blood, if anypony disturbs the sixth, they will never find a piece big enough to be sure it used to be you. I shall bear my student home; it is the least I can offer her.”
As the Night Guard scrambled to attend to their assigned tasks fleeing into the castle as quickly as they could while remaining dignified, Celestia finally released her magic, her shoulders slumping wearily. Luna, who had been standing silently at her side, stepped closer, allowing her sister to lean against her, her voice barely even a whisper. “You do recall that the rift spell I used to bring them here will disrupt the short-term memory of any living being that passes through it and who does not possess the power of an alicorn, yes?” she asked, receiving a nod in return. “So they won’t possibly remember anything that happened tonight in another few hours?” Another nod. “So, dear sister, the threats compelling their silence…stress relief?”
“A thousand years worth, Luna,” was the tired reply. “One of the greatest burdens of being a benevolent goddess is having to resist the urge to remind some of our subjects that the sun can burn, as well as nurture. And everypony is still afraid to relax. ‘Benevolent’ just means you don’t flay them for fun, they seem to think.” Celestia looked up at the sky, feeling the weight of her very, very long life. “And after tonight…I think I earned a small release.” And with that, Celestia turned, and walked back into the castle, her little sister in tow, to ensure the remaining members of the Night Guard didn’t mistreat their precious burdens.
****
The brown stallion led the way back through town, looking rather chagrined as he did. “I’m really sorry about all that, girls,” he apologized for the fifth time, glancing back at the four grinning fillies behind him. “From what Dinky’d told me about you three, I was so sure at least one of you would have a destruction cutie mark, and it seemed like if you were doing it intentionally…” his voice trailed off as he noticed the grey pegasus walking a step to the side was rolling her eyes at him. “Right, never mind that. The statues are smashed and gone, so all’s well there, and I think I promised you lot some ice cream.” He paused, and looked at his wife. “I did promise them ice cream, didn’t I?” She shook her head, chuckling. “Well, never mind that, I’m promising it now. So, ice cream. Or pastries, if you’d prefer. Maybe both together. Oh, or those long cookies, the spongy ones, what are they called? Fantastic dipped in custard…” he rambled along happily as he led the bemused mare and excited fillies past the library, towards Sugarcube Corner.
“Hey, put me down!” a young voice snapped from inside the library, and the little group turned towards the great tree in time to see a trio of bat-winged pegasi step out in single file, the leader carrying a struggling Spike, his teeth lightly pinching into the back of the baby dragon’s neck. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on,” the dragon threatened, his tail whipping up to strike his captor’s cheek for emphasis. The guard winced, but held his mouth closed, looking back at the mare behind him for support.
“Ah, excuse me, sorry,” the brown stallion said, cheerfully, as he stepped towards the guards, while Derpy stepped back towards the foals, eyeing the other pegasi wearily. The Night Guard all turned to face him, the mare in the middle stepping forward. “Now, I’m sure you fine, upstanding members of the royal guard have a very good reason for take a young dragon from his home, despite his protests, even if you do look like something straight out of a foal’s nightmare, no offense,” he began, genuinely, “but, if you wouldn’t mind terribly, could I ask what that reason might be?”
The mare nodded. “I’m Lieutenant Breeze Wing of the Royal Guard, sir. There’s been a…” she paused, panic flashing through her eyes as she remembering Princess Celestia’s orders, and her threat. “A situation, about which I’m regrettably unable to elaborate. My subordinates and I, along with a number of other pegasi, have been dispatched, on the direct authority of the Royal Sisters, to retrieve certain individuals and convey them to Canterlot. Despite what I know this must look like, the dragon is completely safe. You have my word on that.” She flashed him an apologetic smile. “You also have my apologies for any distress we’ve caused you, your companion, or the fil…lies…”
Her voice trailed off as she actually looked at the four fillies, recalling the files the mayor had shown them minutes earlier. She looked at the other mare beside her, nodding towards the youngsters, and eyebrow quirked inquisitively. Her subordinates eyes narrowed, and the foals stepped back from the predatory gaze. A shallow nod from the pegasus, and the two mares sprang forward, heads low. With practiced ease, the Night Guard mares lifted Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle off the ground, tossing them into the air. The two fillies shrieked, their Crusaders cloaks flapping as the fell, landing hard on the pegasi’s backs as Derpy dove between the strange mares and her daughter, wings flared aggressively. Breeze Wing looked at the grey mare, and nodded approvingly. “Apologies, miss, but our orders are to take these fillies as well. Their sisters were…involved, in the situation, and their families are already likely en route.” She looked behind her, Sweetie Belle clinging nervously to the strange mare’s back. “Hold tight, little one,” she said with a gentle smile…or at least, as gentle a smile as one could have with fangs. She spread her wings, and the three disguised pegasi leapt into the air, wings flapping powerfully as the carried two frightened fillies and one annoyed dragon towards Canterlot.
“Well…didn’t see that coming,” the brown stallion observed, running a hoof through his darker brown mane. “Normally, I don’t much approve of anypony making off with a pair of frightened foals, and I’d suggest we should try to follow them, except the Cakes just walked out of Sugarcube Corner with their twins, accompanied by another group of those pegasi.” He waved over at the Cakes, and they waved back. “They seem more confused than worried, so that mare was probably telling the truth. A bit unorthodox, but if time is a factor I’m not sure we can blame her for being rough.” He paused, and frowned. “Of slightly more immediate concern, is that I’m sorry, girls. I’m afraid there won’t be any ice cream tonight, after all.”
“Priorities, sweetie. Right now, let’s get Scootaloo home, and then get inside ourselves,” Derpy suggested, wings tucked back against her side as she wrapped a leg around Dinky protectively. “That mare looked nervous, and I’m not sure I want to be out and about on a night that can make a pony like that nervous.”
The stallion considered for a second, then nodded. “Better idea. You bring Dinky home, make sure everything is set at home, and I’ll bring Scootaloo back to her parents, then join you.” The grey pegasus nodded, her maternal instincts winning out over the common sense of safety in numbers. “Right, Scootaloo, come on, time to get you home.” It was only then that the two adults stopped, and heard the sound of quiet sobbing, and turned to see its source.
The orange filly was sitting on her haunches, trembling, her burgundy cloak pulled tightly around her, tears streaking down her face as the couple’s daughter looked nervously between her friend and her parents. “Scootaloo…come on, you heard my dad, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle are going to be fine…” she offered uncertainly.
Scootaloo shook her head violently. “That…that isn’t it,” she sobbed, fighting to regain control of herself. “The pegasus said that…that Applejack and Rarity were involved in whatever happened, and see looked scared when she talked about it,” the filly squeaked out, standing shakily and looking towards Canterlot in silence, barely able to make out the form of the three pegasi in flight, several chariots trailing behind them. “And Rainbow Dash said she was going to be with them tonight…what if something happened to her?” she whispered, and broke down in tears again, worried for her idol.
She offered no resistance as Dinky’s father scooped her up onto her back, and began walking slowly towards the filly’s house. By the time they arrived, she had cried herself to exhaustion, leaving the stallion to explain the situation to two very confused, very worried ponies.
****
The castle’s infirmary wasn’t particularly large, especially in comparison to the rest of the structure. Most of the royal palace had been built to a grand scale, a visual display of power and prestige, meant to unsettle all but the most jaded, with grand pillars, ancient tapestries, soaring arches, and towering windows throughout. And in the ballrooms, the grand hallways, the throne room, the bed chambers, such ostentatious design was a valuable tool. Even in some of the offices, embellishment had its place. There was, however, a limit, however; while it was appropriate for the offices of the Chamberlain, for instance, to display ten-foot tall statues of the royal sisters worked in gold and silver, Celestia had been less than amused at seeing another, identical set in the office of the Head Janitor.
Thankfully, either through careful hiring or, as was far more likely, sheer dumb luck, none of the ponies who had held the office of Royal Physician had felt much of an urge to embellish their personal fiefdom within the castle, even under the pretense of function; most visitors and patients admitted to feeling underwhelmed. There was a single, moderately-sized (by castle standards) chamber, large enough to fit two dozen or so ponies comfortably. Like most every other room in the palace, the floor and walls were made of white marble. Unlike most every other room in the palace, the stone was left with a dull, sterile white, rather than given a polished gleam. At the far end of the room, opposite the simple chestnut doors, was a small, partitioned area, stocked with minor medical supplies and occupied at all times by a member of the castle’s medical staff, to administer to minor scuffs, bruises, aches, or pains the legion of ponies that kept the castle functioning might endure during the day. Next to the partition, there was a set of double doors, built to swing in either direction, and a short corridor.
There were eleven oak doors in that corridor, leading to eleven rooms. The door at the far end of the corridor led into a supply closest, well stocked with medical supplies both standard and exotic in the event of particular need. The doors on each side of the hallway each opened onto a combination of an examination room and a recovery room, for those rare occasions when a member of the palace staff might have an ailment that required more advanced treatment. In general, these rooms saw little use, as most patients who required treatment more advanced than what could be provided in the main room were either sent to one of the more robust hospitals in Canterlot, or treated with magic. Most of those who stayed in those rooms were those who lived at the castle; Twilight Sparkle had spent more than a few nights in those rooms, when dealing with certain situations healing magic had no answer for.
‘And now,’ Celestia reflected, ‘she rests here once more.’ The princess sat on the bare stone of the floor next to the bed, looking towards her student’s lifeless form. She was laid out carefully on the bed, on her side, legs towards her teacher, her face calm. The Solar Princess, caught in the moment, leaned forward and rubbed her cheek against the warm flesh of the unicorn’s, her ethereal mane brushing against her student’s nose. Five of the other rooms had been pressed into similar service, one for each of the other Bearers; within a seventh sat Twilight’s parents, Shining Armor, and Cadence, retrieved from within Canterlot by Celestia herself moments after she, Luna, and the Night Guard had returned to the city through another magical rift. Her ears twitched as the door into the room hummed, and Celestia stood as Luna stepped into the room, sparing a quick, sad glance towards the bed before she focused her gaze on her sister
“The last of my pegasi have returned, sister. The dragon is with Twilight’s family and our…niece; the other ponies are in the main room, along with the Day Guards you roused,” the Princess of the Night announced quietly, her own melancholy over the night’s events reducing her voice to the gentle tones she had learned from a newly lost pegasus. “Those who of the Night Guard who accompanied us have since succumb to the effects of rift travel, and rests, though judging by the response of the assemblage, your orders were obeyed to the letter. Most of the families seem confused and nervous, even frightened, but none yet mourn.” The dark alicorn paused a moment, in thought. “At least, we assume they do not mourn. We find it difficult to discern emotion in the case of the Pie family.” She glanced again towards the still lavender form. “Sister, it has been nearly three hours.”
Celestia responded with a solemn nod, lifting a hoof to smooth the indigo mane. “I know, Luna, but…would you forgive me were I to ask to stay with Twilight?”
The Princess of the Night dipped her head, her mane billowing in the unseen currents that moved it. “Stay, sister…your place right now is with your student. I shall attend to the other tasks for the moment.” With that, the door gleamed blue, swung open, and closed again as Luna stepped back into the hall, leaving her elder sister to play her role, just as she would now play her own.
****
She was surrounded by White.
Rainbow Dash frowned at the thought. She didn’t have any particular problem with white as a color; as a pegasus, one got used to white walls, white floors, white everything early on, at least if you were native to one of the cloud cities. Cloudsdale, Las Pegasus, Bespinto – All white, all the time, barring the occasional fountain of liquid rainbow. Occasionally, somepony would have the idea that they wanted to seem dark and brooding, and build their home out of black storm clouds. Those projects tended to last a week, tops, before the pegasus in question realized that random lightning strikes and frequent rain showers were less than ideal living conditions. So Rainbow Dash was fine being surrounded by white.
The problem was, at the moment she was surrounded by White. It was almost as if the very concept of Whiteness had sprung into being and surrounded her, which concerned her deeply for two reasons. The second reason was that, somehow, she understood what she had just thought. Somehow, it made perfect sense to her that ‘white’ and ‘White’ weren’t the same thing, a distinction that she realized she had no business understanding.
Her primary concern at the moment was that White was, apparently, quite firm while simultaneously yielding. Had she been trying to sleep, that would have been a fine quality, if it yielded just a bit before the firmness asserted itself. It was significantly less comforting when the substance you were surrounded by was firm only until it wasn’t. Or, possibly, it was firm until it didn’t need to be. Rainbow pressed a hoof against her face in frustration, wishing that Twilight had been on hand to explain whatever was happening. All she knew was that, at the moment, she felt like she was standing upside down, in a spot she had flown through a half dozen times without issue, and now felt firm as bedrock. Dash was, admittedly, used to being upside down. The mere sense of being upside down hadn’t bothered her in years, not while she was in flight, the sky below and the ground above. But then, she had at least known ground from sky, known which direction gravity would favor, known where to find a safe landing spot if something went wrong. Trying to stand on a completely capricious non-surface, which, she feared, might dissipate at any time and send her plummeting in some arbitrary direction, was far more nerve-wracking.
A realization which, in turn, led to a third reason for her to be concerned, related to her second – Since when had she used words like ‘capricious’ and ‘arbitrary’ in her thoughts?
“Yeah, it is kind of trippy in here, isn’t it?” a voice asked, and Rainbow Dash yelped in surprise, jumping straight up…into a suddenly firm ceiling, which became an equally firm floor as gravity choose a new orientation. The blue mare winced, then opened her eyes to see a forest green earth pony looking down at her, smiling wryly. “Sorry, kid, couldn’t resist myself. You wouldn’t believe how long it’s been since I had somepony who couldn’t manipulate this stuff as well as I could,” the strange mare offered in a rough, gravelly voice, with a wistful shake of her head. Dash rolled over, and looked at the newcomer warily. She had a mane the color of freshly tilled earth, long but bound tightly in a leather cord, looking for all the world like a whip, as was her tail. The muscles in her neck and legs seemed to give the same impression, as though she were a whip pulled back to strike…or a snake poised to lunge. Her eyes didn’t help with that comparison, a pale yellow, though shaped like a normal pony’s eyes. “Anyway, sure you have a lot of questions, but for now, let’s answer the two big ones. One, my name is Molehill. Two, I’m here to guide your path. Now come on, time’s wasting.”
The mare turned before Rainbow Dash recovered from shock enough to protest, and began trotting off into the White void. Frowning, the confused pony began to fly after the green mare, wondering where they were going, and what kind of talent was represented by a pickaxe crossed over the other, sharper kind of axe.
****
She was surrounded by White.
Applejack frowned, sweat beading on her forehead as she continued to buck against the invisible wall her rear hooves kept striking. She wasn’t entirely sure what was happening, but she didn’t like it, whatever it was. She’d awoken to find herself seemingly floating in a featureless void, supported by an unseen force. Lacking any better idea, she had begun walking, hoping to eventually find one of her friends, or some kind of landmark, anything that would make more sense than just an endless expanse of nothingness. She had made it six feet before she had encountered the first invisible wall. Undeterred, she had turned around and began to walk in the other direction…making it another six feet before she encountered a second unseen barrier. That worried her, given that the wall ran through the place she’d been standing before she’d started walking. She had tried going left, then right, only to encounter a barrier each time, always six feet away. She wasn’t entirely sure how she’d gotten trapped, or by who, but the particulars of the situation didn’t much matter to her at the moment. She was trapped, and that was what was important. And, lacking any better ideas, she had fallen back on her default response to solid objects which weren’t cooperating. If a tree wouldn’t surrender its apples willingly, buck it. If she was stuck in some kind of tiny room with invisible walls, well, bucking was a fine response to that, too.
After a hundred strong strikes hadn’t produced any apparent change in the invisible wall, the farmer was beginning to question the wisdom of her decision. She didn’t know much about magic, but she knew enough to realize, after some time thinking while she kicked, that invisible walls were probably going to be able to stand up to any kick her powerful hind legs could deliever. Then again, the attempt didn’t seem to be hurting her, and she wasn’t feeling particularly tired, either. Another hundred kicks, then she could try something else. After all, her mother and father hadn’t raised her to be a quitter or a fool.
She staggered mid-kick, lost her balance, and fell to the transparent floor. ‘Mother’ and ‘father,’ she’d just thought. Not ‘ma’ and ‘pa,’ the usual way she thought of her lost parents. Shakily, she stood back up, suddenly very worried. She thought she’d only tried a hundred kicks, but she remembered talk, whispered warning of unicorn magic which could play tricks with a pony’s mind. She remembered what had happened after Discord’s escape, when she’d been corrupted, how it had felt to know that something was wrong with her, but not knowing exactly what. Suddenly, the unseen walls felt far to real, far too confining, as Applejack began to imagine that she was trapped inside her own mind, trapped in a tight little box, away from her family, away from her friends, something else in control of her body. Her breathing grew quicker, more shallow, as she pressed her body up against the wall, feeling for any weakness, anyway to escape. She began to walk forward, body pressed against the wall. One foot. Two feet. Three, four, five feet. She was properly hyperventilating now, as she took the last few steps that would bring her to the wall she knew was waiting straight ahead…
And the wall to her side gave way, and fell to the floor, legs splayed out beneath her, her vision occupied by a pair of pitch black hooves. Her eyes turned up, to find those hooves attached to the longest legs Applejack had ever seen on anypony other than the Princesses. The other mare reminded the farmer of that odd unicorn that’d met at Twilight’s party in Canterlot, the one who’d insisted on draping herself over the host for no readily apparent reason, if she’d been two inches taller, around ten pounds lighter, and an earth pony instead of a unicorn. Her eyes gleamed to rubies below a mane which resembled nothing so much as fine strands of tarnished silver, cascading gently down the left side of her face, only partially obscuring her left eye, to her knees, before being drawn back up and laid against her back until it wove into a voluminous tail carefully styled to resemble a heart. It was an utterly impractical style, but Applejack did have to admit it was striking. The dark mare stood at a slight angle, just enough that, by craning her neck, Applejack could see that her cutie mark was an antique silver key, an open heart design at the end opposite the teeth.
“I apologize for that, my dear. It seemed wise to arrange a distraction for you at the time; I hadn’t thought the test would cause you such a panic,” she observed dryly, and Applejack openly gaped at the sound, like velvet and silk brushing past her ears, her accent so refined as to make Rarity sound as rough as…well, as rough as Rarity made her sound, by comparison. “Everypony else tended to keep probing the walls, and quite quickly deduced that the walls weren’t actually six feet apart, they simply sprung into being after moving six feet in any one direction. I’d never seen a participant try to brute force her way out…congratulations on your originality, I suppose?” A shadow passed over the black pony’s features. “Oh, forgive me; I have you at a disadvantage, don’t I.” She lowered her head and bent one knee in an unusually formal gesture, given the impossibility of their surroundings. “I am the Duchess Lovecraft, but you may simply call me Lovecraft.” The mare straightened, and shot Applejack a warning glare. “If you try to call me “Lovie,” I will destroy you. Any questions?” The orange mare shook her head, seeing a seriousness in the stranger’s eyes that was missing whenever Rarity would give that same threat. “Grand, then, simply grand. Come with me, then, Applejack, the others are all waiting. Nearly time, you know.” And she walked past the prone farmer with a high stepping trot, her voluminous tail hovering just above the floor, leaving Applejack to scramble to her hooves and followed after the other pony, Lovecraft, wondering how the strange mare had known her name…
****
She was surrounded by White.
Normally, Pinkie Pie would have been distressed by this, though out of boredom, not fear. After all, by her reasoning anypony who had a room so perfectly White would probably be the type of pony who wouldn’t much care for parties or pranks or pies or pretty much anything that might get the whitie-white-white room less white. But then, Pinkie Pie understood this place. Oh, not like Rainbow Dash understood flying, or Fluttershy understood animals, or Rarity understood dresses, or Applejack understood apples, Twilight understood almost everything, at least that’s how it seemed sometimes. No, Pinkie didn’t understand the White place like that; she honestly didn’t think anypony did, didn’t think anypony could. But she understood the basics of the place.
After all, she’d been there before.
Once, years and years ago, when she’d been a little filly, back on the rock farm, before she got her cutie mark, she had gotten sick. Really terrifically sick. So sick that her father, not usually much for doctors, or unicorns, or especially doctor unicorns, had gone to fetch the finest unicorn doctor nearby, while Pinkie’s mom and sisters and Granny Pie stayed to watch over her. The night her father left, the fever had gotten worse, much, much worse, and when she closed her eyes, she opened them to find herself in the White place, feeling much better, much happier, much more alive than she’d ever felt. And she ran, and gamboled, and played to her little heart’s content, and then had fallen asleep again, perfectly content.
When she woke up the next morning, both her parents, and her Granny, were holding her in a tight hug, all three adults crying happily, while an old grey unicorn mare looked on from across her bedroom, smiling sweetly. They never told her what had happened that night, but then, they hadn’t had to, not really; she might not be the cleverest pony, but she wasn’t stupid either. But it didn’t matter, because they were all together, and they were all safe, and then her sisters had come in and six of them had just hugged. It was the single happiest moment of her life, even better than when she threw her first party, and it didn’t matter if she never told them what happened, because the only two ponies who needed to know about the White place knew. Pinkie herself knew.
And her very first friend knew, too. The strange unicorn mare she’d met in the White place, who’d seemed to surprised and so sad to see the little pink filly the first time they’d met. But she’d indulged the little foal, teaching her all about how the place worked, showing her how to run upside down, how to go from one place to another without crossing the space in-between, even showing her how to fly through the Whiteness like a pegasus, without any wings. And later, just before Pinkie had woken up, the unicorn had laid down beside her, and let the pink filly cuddle up against her rich, aquamarine coat, her pure white, pixie cut mane almost blending into the background, as she sang Pinkie to sleep with a lullaby with lyrics she didn’t recognize, lyrics which sounded old, and sad, and just as Pinkie had closed her eyes for the final time before she woke up, she realized the mare had never given her name, and Pinkie hadn’t thought to look at her playmate’s cutie mark.
The first time had been a mistake. The second was an accident, when Pinkie slipped on some water and fell into a bucket far too small for her head to fit into, let alone the rest of her. She had found herself back in the White place, and this time her friend hadn’t been simply surprised; she’d been struck speechless and forced to sit down, giving the little filly a chance to walk over and correct one of her earlier mistakes. As it happened, her friend’s cutie mark was a shimmering golden bridge arched across a flowing river. Young as she was, Pinkie knew it was rude to ask what a pony’s talent was if it wasn’t obvious, so she simply nodded to herself she’d seen her father do sometimes, and asked the stunned mare for her name. That had snapped the unicorn out of her daze, and she suddenly smiled happily down at the filly, and picked her up in an innocent, joyous hug.
The unicorn had introduced herself as Bridge Watcher, and overtime had taught Pinkie more about the White place, how to enter it safely, and how to leave it safely, too. Eventually, after Pinkie had earned her cutie mark, the unicorn had taught her how to use the rules of the place to travel between places in the normal world, but only after Pinkie had given her most solemn promise, her very first Pinkie Promise, to never use the power for evil. And as she’d grown, and made other friends, Pinkie found herself needing the strange unicorn less and less, found herself visiting less and less, though she still made a point to check in at least once every two weeks, and always tried to at least say hello when she was passing through.
And now, the pink earth pony and the aqua unicorn stood face to face again, and they both knew. Pinkie frowned, her hair straighter than normal, but still curly. Bridge Watcher had the same sad look as she’d had the first time Pinkie had arrived as a foal, so young, so full of life and promise.
“I’m not going back this time, am I, Bridgy?” the party pony asked, already certain of the answer.
The unicorn shook her head, looking back towards her friend. “I’m afraid not, Pinks,” she said, her voice full of regret. But then her eyes twinkled, and she gave an honest smile. “But come on, the others are waiting, and you’re not going to want to miss this party.” And the unicorn dashed off, her short cropped tail flicking with each step, her sixth oldest remaining friend close behind.
****
She was surrounded by White.
Truth be told, Fluttershy was quite enjoying the strange place. She knew that was strange, in a way, and that her friends would have expected her to be frightened by the endless emptiness around her. ‘But,’ she thought happily, ‘what do I have to be frightened of here, wherever here is? It’s nice, and quiet, and peaceful, and so soft…I could just stay here forever.’ And she was considering it, as she sat in the wonderfully peaceful place, looking all around her. The only thing that was missing to make it completely perfect were her animal friends. At that thought, Fluttershy paused, and focused on the patch of White just a little bit in front of her, concentrated, and concentrated, and concentrated, and with a sound just exactly like one would imagine a poof should sound, a pure White bunny poofed into existence, walked over to her, and cuddled up next to the yellow pegasus. Another poof, and a bird which would have been called a blue jay, if it weren’t White, flitted over and landed on her back, tweeting happily.
Soon, the void was alive with sounds, as more and more animal shapes were called forth, gathered close around the mare who had called them into being. Fluttershy was so contented, so at peace, that she didn’t even notice the eventual approach of another pegasus, despite how boldly her coat, a plum so dark it was nearly black, stood out against the environment. The animals, however, did, and alerted their creator, gently snapping the yellow mare from her reverie as the newcomer landed before the assembled creatures, tilting her head as the stranger’s jaw hung open in shock. “Oh, hello there, miss,” Fluttershy sweetly greeted the newcomer, still unafraid…though part of her courage now might have had something to do with the two grizzly bears she had willed into existence and which were staring at the unknown pegasus. Fluttershy smiled brightly, feeling particularly social at the moment. “I’m sorry if my friends and I disturbed you, but I didn’t know anypony else was around…we weren’t too much of a bother, were we?” The plum pegasus continued to gape as Fluttershy continued to smile beatifically, nuzzling the rabbit resting by her head.
“I…you…animals…” the stranger chocked out as her mind ran in circles, trying to process what she was seeing. Then she shook her head, her windswept lapis mane unaffected by the movement. “I’m really sorry about this, but, well…none of us were expecting you tonight, and technically your counterpart is…a bit busy, and mine is…also busy, so since I was the only one who wasn’t busy, they sent me to get you, only the others didn’t exactly mention that until, well right now, so now we’re running late, and I really need you to come with me right now,” the other pegasus rattled off in a quick panic, and Fluttershy’s smile widened, reminded of another mare with a similar tendency to speak quickly and forget to breath, though her voice had a slight hint of a Trottingham accent. “Oh, and sorry, nearly forgot, two more things. One, I’m Dream Keeper, nice to meet you. Two, you have to leave the animals here. Mainly because again, running a bit late and we really don’t have time to explain that to the others right now, but we’re going to at some point, definitely.”
Fluttershy stood, stretching her legs, and nodded. “Oh, well, alright then. I don’t want anypony to worry on my account, and my new friends will be fine.” Fluttershy walked over to Dream Keeper, and noticed a white feather against a spider web of stars emblazoned on her flank. “Could you lead the way? Um, if it’s not too much trouble, that is?”
Dream Keeper blinked, caught off-guard by the pale yellow pony’s willingness to follow, then began to canter into the distance, trailed closely by a gently smiling pegasus, as the animals left behind faded back into the White.
****
She was surrounded by white.
Rarity frowned, and blinked again, feeling terribly strange, but not entirely sure why she felt so strange. She shifted slightly, and flinched at the feeling of the sheets shifting against her; they were of a passable thread count, certainly, but nowhere near the quality she was used to in her own bed. She threw the top sheet off, uncovering her head, and suddenly understood. Everything white, and sterile, and ever so dull. And she’d been so enjoying her dream, of a palatial boutique, stocked with all the fabrics she could ever dream of, whole bolts of cloth so rare that even a single yard would cost more than an entire block in Canterlot’s shopping district, so rare that most designers thought them myths. And then, without apparent reason, she’d snapped awake in this drab little hospital room.
She was pondering the merits of trying to go back to sleep, when the door to her room swung open. She glanced over, and smiled at her visitor, admiring the night sky contained within her mane. While she’d never say it publically, for fear of offending royalty, she did rather prefer Luna’s mane to Celestia’s. Not that there was anything wrong with the multi-hued mane of the Sun Princess, but something about having the night sky itself reflected in one’s coiffure was so much more fashionable than…
And Rarity’s common sense caught up with her fashion sense, and she realized that Princess Luna had just walked into her room and was staring at her with a strange look at very bad things might be about to happen if she wasn’t properly polite this very instant, regardless of Luna’s professed desire not to be treated so formally. “Oh, Princess Luna, forgive me, I was still a bit dazed, I just woke up, I meant no disrespect,” the white mare stammered, springing from her bed and landing on her feet in a gesture even she’d questioned the need to practice. And she prepared to bend her neck in a shallow bow.
And she realized, in that instant, that she was able to look the Princess of the Night in the eyes.
And, she further realized that she hadn’t used her magic or her hooves to remove the bedsheet.
And she saw the knowing smirk on the princess’ face, accompanied by a dark blue light from the alicorn’s horn, before the fashionista looked back at her back.
And she screamed.
****
She was enveloped in white.
Twilight was confused, if still content. She’d been having such a wonderful dream, in a library filled with shelf after shelf of rare books, books on magic, on science, on friendship, on everything she could imagine. Some of the books she’d noticed had been thought lost for ages. She hadn’t bothered to read them, of course; it was only a dream, and she couldn’t learn anything from a dream. But the idea had been nice, that the knowledge hadn’t really been lost, and Twilight had wandered through the stacks, just taking in the sight of all those books in one place. The only worrisome part of the dream was that, on more then one occasion, she’d seen herself, only darker, just out of the corner of her eye, or hidden in a shadow and gone when she looked back. But overall, it had been a pleasant dream.
And now she was awake, and she felt a warm cheek nuzzling her, could smell a scent she remembered from her foalhood, when the little filly had been frightened, and her teacher had let her spend the night in the royal bedroom, snuggled up against the Solar Goddess, every breath heavy with the smell of lilies, and ink, and parchment, and something Twilight had eventually come to think of as the smell of magic, and she purred happily into the white neck in front of her. And her eyes sprang open as she realized Princess Celestia was essentially cuddling her, in a strange bed, and she had no idea what was going on, and she wanted to move, but she couldn’t feel anything below her neck, and she wanted to teleport but she felt cut off from her magic. Her purr turned into a whimper, and the comforting presence pulled away.
Twilight looked up at her mentor, her face a twisted expression of fear, embarrassment, and regret. Celestia looked down at her student, smiling. Not the sly, gentle smile she normally wore, that could mean anything from amusement to annoyance to boredom; a true, genuine smile, a smile that seemed to Twilight to radiate brighter than the sun itself. “Umm…hello, Princess,” Twilight began, commanding her voice to remain calm and level, a command her voice outright refused to obey.
“Hello, my most faithful student,” Celestia replied happily, her own command to control her laughter far better obeyed. “How are you?”
“I’ve been better, Princess, I’ve been better,” the lavender mare answered slowly, panic slowly rising. “Princess…I can’t seem to move, and my magic isn’t responding. Does that mean the ritual of untold power I was attempting without your permission…went wrong?” She heaved a sigh of relief when her mentor shook her head. That relief was short lived.
“I temporarily restricted your movement and magic, Twilight,” Celestia explained, the urge to laugh diminishing. “You did a tremendous thing tonight, Twilight, something that’s only happened once before. But in so doing…things have changed, Twilight. You have changed, my dear, sweet little Twilight, and I was afraid you might accidentally hurt yourself, or panic and hurt yourself, so I restricted your magic and restrained your body until you woke up and I had a chance to talk to you.” Celestia paused, and her expression became stern. “Twilight Sparkle, we have much to discuss tonight. But to begin with, if I release the restraints on you, do you solemnly promise me to react calmly and rationally, and not have one of your…episodes?” she asked, though even her resolve faded at the end, and she cracked a smile. Her student nodded nervously, and Celestia’s horn glowed bright yellow for a moment, enveloping Twilight’s body in her magic.
Twilight’s horn began to glow immediately, flaring to a nearly blinding red-violet as she confirmed her ability to use magic was restored, then went through a quick rundown of her body, moving each leg one at a time, turning her neck and head, wiggling her hindquarters, just to make sure she could, not for any other reason, flexing her –
Her eyes bugged out, and she stared at Celestia as a potentially horrible realization dawned on her, and Celestia stared back at her student, once more smiling. “Princess…’ the power of the Elements of Harmony within the chosen vessels’ didn’t meant what I thought it meant, did it?” she asked slowly. The Princess shook her head, still smiling, and opened her mouth to speak…
Only to be cut off by a sudden scream.