//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 (Remastered) // Story: Coming Back // by bats //------------------------------// Rainbow kept losing track of herself. The mist had fallen away as her path became rocky, and aside from the unnatural stillness of the fields, she could’ve been walking along any path. She kept expecting to run into a carriage headed off to some far away city like Manehattan, or that one of the times she glanced over her shoulder she’d pick up the sound of hoofbeats as her friends caught up with her. Her own steps grew muffled by a growing number of stale pine needles as the path became steep and lined with evergreens, and she stopped at the top of a hill to turn around and check her progress. She could barely make out the haze of fog at the horizon line. “...I couldn’t have gone that far; the mist must’ve gone away,” she muttered. Squinting, she followed the dirt road back through the fields, trying to spot the crossroads, or barring that, Discord’s glowing chains. She frowned. “How long have I been walking, anyway?” An uneasy grimace marred her expression when she realized she didn’t know. She couldn’t use the sun to measure the hours; there was no sun she could see, just a dull glow of light from a featureless sky. She didn’t get tired or hungry, so there was no reason for her to take a break. When she had first seen a tree, the thought had crossed her mind to take a nap solely out of habit, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to sleep. She felt exactly the same as when she started walking. Her frown deepening, she mused, “Couldn’t have been more than an hour or two…” She eyed her progress doubtfully, and turned around. Unfurling her wings, she took off and flew above the path with growing speed. The foothills got larger as she raced forward, and the path changed to switchbacks. Flying up higher, she cut through the air in a straight line until she couldn’t keep track of the path anymore. The treeline thinned and gave way to dull, gray outcroppings of granite, with the dirt road replaced by nothing more than a worn groove. Rainbow rubbed her chin. She kept an eye on where the path left the trees and darted away to try and take everything in. She was climbing the tallest mountain she had ever seen. The timberline barely reached the midpoint in its height. She turned in place to check her progress, and couldn’t even see the path on the other side of the foothills. Gritting her teeth, she flew back to just above the path and raced up the mountain. Rainbow lost track of the path. It had been a gentle slope of switchbacks, and then it was gone. With a bewildered frown, she flew back down until she picked it up again at the treeline. A couple hundred feet back up, she lost sight of it again. Up and down she went, finding the path, losing the path. Her frustration hit a breaking point and she landed heavily, grumbled a stream of obscenities, and took off at a gallop. “Try and lose me now, you stupid path.” Twilight stepped off the train first and adjusted her messenger bag, followed down the platform by her friends. Canterlot, normally a bustling metropolis filled with activity and amused voices drifting through the streets, was a ghost town. The few ponies out and about rushed from one shop to another, intent on getting their errands done and back home where they could be out of the dull gloom that had fallen over the whole country. Twilight turned to her group, her voice tired and soft. “Alright, everypony ready?” At a few hesitant nods, she led them through the streets, tracing the familiar path worn into her memory over the course of years. Twilight’s mind was clouded with visions of her dream, and when they passed the armored guards at the gate, she didn’t notice how quickly they stood aside. When she came out of her reverie, they were already in the throne room. Celestia smiled at their arrival from the raised platform, her poised and practiced expression betraying the barest hint of exhaustion and mourning. “Twilight, my dear student.” She turned to the others, her gaze lingering over each. “Pinkie Pie, Applejack, Rarity, Fluttershy. It does me well to see you all again at such times.” She bowed her head, her voice dropping. “And my deepest condolences to you all.” As they bowed to their princess, Celestia gave the guards a small nod and they left the chambers, closing the door behind them. As they did, she sagged where she stood and let out a heavy breath. “Come sit up here so we may talk.” She floated five pillows to the throne’s platform and took her seat. Cantering up the steps, Twilight took the pillow closest to Celestia’s right, and the rest filed in to fill the circle. Stifling a yawn, Twilight said, “It’s good to see you, Princess.” “It’s good to see you, Twilight, though I wish the circumstances were different.“ She regarded the group as a whole. “These are troubling times, and I fear the loss of Rainbow Dash is merely the start.” Her volume lowered as she bowed her head. “I fear for my little ponies. I do not need magic to feel the terror that has gripped every mare, stallion, and foal.” Applejack nodded. “It’s been a hard couple’a days for everypony.” At their murmurs of agreement, Applejack continued. “So what can we do to help?” “Well, I would like to compare notes.” Celestia straightened in her seat. “Twilight and I have exchanged further correspondence regarding the Elements of Harmony, and we should discuss what we know of this coming threat.” Turning to Twilight, Celestia smiled. “Why don’t we start with your research into the Elements.” Twilight let out a slow breath and pulled her messenger bag around to her chest. The Elements of Harmony lifted out one by one in a glow of magic, and she floated them to the middle of the group. The Element of Loyalty, blackened and twisted, hovered in the center, while the others spun in a lazy cloud around it. “I’ve used every analysis spell I could find on the Elements,” Twilight began, her voice gaining strength and conviction as she went on, falling into the matter-of-fact tone of reciting an answer in lecture, “and a few I made up for the task. Everything in the world has traceable magic in it: from the air, to plants, to even rocks. Everything has a little bit of magic in it. Spells, magical artifacts like the Elements, and ponies especially have a large amount of magic in them. Before this happened, an Element of Harmony looked sort of like this…” Twilight closed her eyes in concentration and the Elements stopped their movement. The Element of Loyalty raised up a few inches, and a glow of white light poured out into the room, making her friends shield their eyes. The necklace looked alive, with dots of energy coursing through it like blood through veins. “When an enchanted item breaks—even something small and weak, like a hairpin that has a spell to help ward off mosquitoes—it has a very specific look…” The white light filling the Element of Loyalty spread inward to the jagged flaw running through the lightning bolt gem, leaving the edges of the necklace pale and dull. From the break, a cloud of light seeped out from the Element and into the air, the ordered flow turning into a jumbled blot. The sight reinforced the notion of veins and arteries running through the Element, as everypony was reminded of a bleeding wound. “This is what broken spells and enchantments normally look like; the magic loses cohesion and spreads away from the object, but it never goes away completely. But that’s not what the Elements look like…” The light vanished from the Element of Loyalty. Inky, impenetrable black, darker than anything the gathered mares had seen before, hugged the necklace’s form, made all the darker by the motes of energy floating through the air around it. It felt like they were staring into a hole in reality. “This is what the Elements—all the Elements look like. There isn’t any magic in them. No break, no traceable flow of leaking magic, nothing. Everything in the world has magic in it. Except the Elements of Harmony.” The image faded along with the energy from Twilight’s horn, and the Elements of Harmony settled on the floor. Twilight let out a sigh of relief, sagging in her seat. As her eyelids drooped, a tremor of terror raced up her spine, and she jerked back up, letting out a small gasp. Celestia knit her brow, looking over her student with concern. Twilight shook her head and gave Celestia a strained smile. Turning back to the Elements, Celestia touched her horn to the closest necklace. “An excellent facsimile of the magical imprint, Twilight. That does not, unfortunately, answer any questions. I have never encountered anything that appears devoid of magic before.” Sitting back up, she let out a weary sigh. “I’ve shared your correspondence with the High Scholars, and I’ll fill them in on this as well, but I’m afraid I’m not hopeful that they’ll find anything. The Elements of Harmony are mysterious and powerful artifacts, and when dealing with such things, the normal methods rarely ever work.” She smiled at the group. “It has been my experience that such mysteries always seem to reveal themselves in time to those they affect. I am hopeful I am right in this suspicion, and you find the answers to what has happened on your own.” Her smile faded as she looked out the window. “...I also had the High Scholars scanning the skies, looking for the invading army.” Her voice dropped and became grave. “They found them early this morning, far out in the night sky. Based on the speed the bulls are travelling, they estimate we have six months before their arrival.” The five exchanged looks, silently pleading with each other’s eyes for some sign of comfort. They turned back to Celestia, her gaze still lost out the window. As they waited for her to continue, they were all struck by the weight of centuries pouring from her expression: an unimaginable level of experience and fatigue. “...We have six months before our way of life faces destruction.” Celestia bowed her head. “With the Elements of Harmony the way they are, I cannot ask you to involve yourselves—” Applejack cut her off. “‘Course we’ll help, Princess.” Her tone invited no argument, and her friends nodded with conviction. “This is our home, too, an’ we’re not gonna abandon it when it needs us, Elements a’ Harmony or not.” She nodded at Twilight. “Twi’s the smartest pony we know, and she’ll figure out what’s wrong with the Elements. We’ll get ‘em back, an’ no invadin’ monsters’ll set hoof here again.” Celestia turned to each of them and found the same hardened expression. Slowly, she nodded in assent. “As we prepare for war, any help you can provide will be appreciated by every pony in Equestria. Do not hesitate to write if you need anything at all.” As she stood, the sun streaming in from the windows appeared to brighten. “But before you return home, I insist you join me for dinner.” Rainbow Dash crested the final outcropping of granite to the summit. She found a natural basin within the peak, like a dormant volcano. From the edge, she could see a tree growing in the center, its trunk thick and ropy, with snaking branches covered in fat, heart-shaped leaves. The whole basin glowed with warmth: an oasis far above the timberline, higher than any tree should grow. Under the tree, she could make out the form of a goat, hovering a foot off the ground, his hindlegs crossed underneath him. She opened her wings and glided down. His coat was a ruddy tan, a wispy beard hung from his maneless head, and his white tunic fluttered in a non-existent breeze. A tangle of beads wrapped around his neck and ran down his forelegs, which rested in his lap with one hoof pointed down as if dropping something and the other up to receive. His closed eyes were upturned in joyful crescents and a contented smile spread across his muzzle. Rainbow cleared her throat. “Um...I was told you could tell me about the Elements of Strife.” The goat said nothing. As the silence stretched out, his flapping robe caught her eye and she stared, trying to feel any sort of breeze. She fidgeted her hooves and swayed to a snippet of a half-remembered song running through her head. She crossed her eyes to stare at a lock of mane just in her vision, and started tapping along to the beat. She realized she was humming. Shaking her head, she cleared her throat again. “So, uh...can, uh, you tell me anything? Please?” His stillness was remarkable. Rainbow knew part of it was from being dead, but as she tried to match him, she found she couldn’t come close. She fidgeted her hooves, or her wings, or swayed to the song, and her mind raced in circles. ‘Wonder how long this guy’s been here,’ she mused to herself. She paused in her tapping as her eyes widened. ‘How long have I been here?’ Rainbow chewed her lip and looked back at the sunless sky. How many switchbacks had she climbed? Even without getting tired, how long does it take to climb the tallest mountain ever? Worry squirmed into her belly and she sat on her haunches, willing herself still and her attention focused on the old goat. “Please, I need your help. I gotta get back to my friends. If you know anything about the Elements of Strife, please help me.” His contentment didn’t flicker. She found her hooves wanting to tap again, but she forced herself to stay still. “Can you at least tell me how long I’ve been here?” The goat’s eyelids opened the smallest sliver, revealing a peek at his amber colored eyes, somehow full of laughter. A clear voice, emanating from all around her, rang out, its tone warm, but not friendly. “You have been dead for twenty-three days.” She flinched. “Twenty-three days?” A shiver ran up her spine as images of her friends facing an endless sea of bulls without her played through her mind. She shook her head. “Please, I gotta get back, tell me what I need to do!” “If one is to understand the Element of Inaction, one must learn how to not act.” Rainbow sprung to her hooves. “Not act? But I’ve gotta do something; my friends need me!” She yearned to fly, to charge headlong into danger and take on anything in her way, even as the desire to let her mind wander pulled at her. “Me not doing anything is gonna hurt them!” “One cannot cause harm through inaction. To inflict harm, one must act.” Her brow furrowed. She straightened from the challenging crouch. “But if I don’t do anything—” “A friend may or may not befall harm from an outside force, but one cannot control an outside force through action or inaction.” Frowning, she narrowed her eyes at the goat. He continued to remain absolutely still, the slits of his eyes unfocused and the smile never leaving his face. Her wings drooped as she mulled over the words. “...But if I was there, I could save a friend from getting hurt, and if I didn’t do anything and they got hurt, it’d be my fault.” “One can only choose whether to act or not, they cannot be blamed for the actions of another.” She lowered her gaze. “But I can’t sit by when there’s something I could do. Not if I can help.” “One can always act, but acting is not always the right choice. To master the Bodhisattva’s gift to the world, one must master their own desire to act. The foolhardy will always act, but the wise know when the best thing to do is to do nothing.” She lowered back to her haunches, running the idea through her head. The thought of standing by while her friends were in danger drew a snarl to her face, but she knew that wasn’t really what the old goat was saying. ‘How many times has Twilight said I should think before I did stuff?’ “One must accept that one cannot control the world around them, and let go of that which they cannot change.” Rainbow raised her head, her gaze set hard and determined. “How do I do that?” The goat’s eyes slid closed again. “Commune with the Bodhi tree.” She stared at the tree. As she looked, she noticed that the branches were covered in buds, and a few hung lower, weighted down with wrinkled fruit. As she stared, she felt her hooves start fidgeting. She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped herself. ‘...If I’m supposed to not be doing anything, talking and twitching isn’t gonna do any good.’ Rainbow took a deep breath and sat up straight. After a brief moment of hesitation, she forced her back legs to cross, glad that being dead meant they wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. She focused on the tree and willed herself still. Her mind desperately wanted to wander. She fought against the desire, focusing all of her attention on the heart-shaped leaves. After a while, she closed her eyes. Whispers that Twilight had gone crazy started making the rounds in Ponyville. Twilight paced around her room like she did most days anymore, her mane and tail knotted and unkempt, with deep purple bruises ringing her eyes. She muttered to herself. She glanced around fitfully, chasing movement in the corners of her eyes that proved to be nothing. If she’d been a bit of a recluse before, she had become a hermit. “…History books aren’t enough, not enough, doesn’t go back enough, need something from before, before history, must be magical deadening somewhere, not new, nothing’s new, Elements, who made the Elements? Made items, made magic, unmade, magic doesn’t come from nothing, can’t go to nothing, empty vessels, empty cups, empty books, history books…” She rambled on, circling an endless spiral of half-thoughts and vague ideas, tunneling back into nothing, looping forward into more nothing. Her hoof caught on a rough patch and she looked down. There was a divot running through her rug. The woven threads were stamped flat and frayed at the edges, the once vibrate colors muddied and meshed. Her tired mind snapped into focus, recalling facts and figures on the wear and tear of different fabrics. Diagrams, tables, numbers, and notes raced through her head as she compared the divot to the rest of the carpet. Based on her memories, it was likely she had paced the same patch for over a hundred hours. She swung to her vanity and came face to face with the pinched, red, and miserable expression of the stranger in her mirror. She fell to her haunches. “Oh, Celestia, what am I doing?” Her eyes swam with stinging tears and she squinted, which hurt even more. “I’m so tired, but I can’t sleep! If I sleep, I’ll see…” The image of Rainbow’s eyes flashed through her mind. She sunk to her belly and sobbed into her hooves, her face burning, her entire body aching. She dragged herself back up. “I need help…” As if rising from a dream, the sound of banging reached her ears. The door leading downstairs sat bolted shut. She tried to open it with magic and pain lanced through her forehead. She stumbled forward and threw back the lock. Spike fell into the room. He leapt to his feet and flung himself around her neck. “Twilight! I’ve been so worried; you locked yourself in here a week ago and wouldn’t let anypony in!” “I’m sorry, Spike.” “I sent everypony home when we couldn’t get in, but you weren’t eating! I...I heard you crying, and…” He hugged harder. “I’m so scared, Twilight.” “I’m so sorry.” She wavered where she stood as she hugged him back. “I...I need help, Spike. Can you go get the girls?” He nodded and jumped down. Twilight teetered, and he gasped, rushing around to press into her side and keep her from falling to the floor. “Twilight, you look awful.” “I know.” She shook the cobwebs from her thoughts and stood up again. “I need the others.” “Okay, but let’s get you somewhere. You haven’t eaten anything either; let me get you some food.” “Spike.” She tried to sound stern through her exhaustion. “I’ll eat something later.” “Okay, okay, I’ll go first.” He headed for the stairs, paused, and ran back to hug her again. “Please be okay, Twilight. First Rainbow Dash, I couldn’t stand if you…” “I’ll be fine,” she said, guilt flooding her system, keeping her sharp and focused. Spike scrabbled down the stairs, and she followed with careful steps, leaning against the wall. The door slammed shut in his wake as she hit the third riser down, and she made her way into the main room of the library, and then over to the couch. She rubbed her stinging face as the door clattered open again. Either she had taken far longer to get downstairs than she thought, or she was losing chunks of time in her sleeplessness. She turned to her friends as they surrounded her. “There ya are! We been worried sick about ya, Twilight.” Applejack brushed Twilight’s bangs away from her forehead and looked at her eyes. Fluttershy pressed a hoof to Twilight’s forehead, then to her throat. “Are you sick? Does it hurt anywhere?” Pinkie bounded forward and bear hugged Twilight, catching both Applejack and Fluttershy and squashing the three together. “What can we do, Twilight?” Rarity nodded with resolution. “Anything you need, just name it.” Twilight sat back, her gaze drifting from concerned face to concerned face. Spike padded into the room from the kitchen with a sandwich on a plate. Twilight burst into tears. “I can’t sleep!” she cried. “I keep seeing Rainbow die over and over in my dreams! I haven’t had a full night’s sleep since it happened last month!” “Oh, you poor thing.” Rarity touched Twilight’s cheek and inspected her face. “A mare simply must get her beauty rest.” Twilight nodded and opened her mouth to continue, when Spike shoved the sandwich in her face. She grabbed it with her hooves to take it out, but at a glare from him, opted to chew it instead. “And she hasn’t eaten anything in days.” “A glass of warm milk can help with nightmares,” Fluttershy offered. “You should try to take care of yourself, Twilight; it’s important.” Twilight swallowed and felt her stomach twist with nausea. She set the sandwich back on the plate and groaned, sinking further into the couch. “It’s not just the dreams, I…” She scrunched her eyes shut as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. “I can’t figure it out!” Pinkie nuzzled her cheek. “Can’t figure out what?” “The Elements! Everypony’s counting on me; I can’t let you down. Have to figure it out, have to…” She struggled up to her hooves, turning towards the stairs. “There must be an answer, I just have to look at it from a different angle, I can’t let you down, I—” Applejack’s hoof pressed her lips shut and guided her back onto the couch. “Easy there, Twi.” She brushed a gnarled lock of hair away from Twilight’s face. “Ain’t nopony gonna be upset if’n ya can’t find anything. You can only do so much, an’ ya don’t got a heck of a lot to work with in the first place. We’re all in this together, ya hear? Maybe this ain’t somethin’ that’s in any books.” Rarity patted Twilight’s mane into some semblance of order. “Applejack is right; we’re all in this together, and you simply must get some sleep! It doesn’t help matters at all if you’re in such a state.” “C’mon,” Fluttershy said in a soothing voice that seemed to melt some of the stress from Twilight’s shoulders. “Let’s get you to bed.” “But,” she protested, “but my dreams…” Pinkie Pie ran a hoof over her back. “That’s all they are: dreams, silly filly.” She hugged Twilight and guided her up to her hooves. “We’ve all had bad dreams. Nothing to be afraid of.” Together, they flanked Twilight and led her up the stairs, providing both physical and emotional support with their presence. They guided her up to the loft and into bed. Spike followed behind with a glass of milk, breathing a lick of dragonflame over the bottom to warm it. Twilight took it and drank it down. “Th-thank you,” she said, leaning back into a pillow, her eyes heavy and sticky. Spike took back the glass. “We’re all in this together, Twilight.” The others nodded. “You’re gonna be okay.” Her mind swam out of focus, her fears growing nebulous and hazy in her exhaustion. She was asleep before anypony could say ‘goodnight.’ Rainbow Dash stared into her, bored into her, that same look, that acceptance. Death. She stared into death, framed in the burning features of her friend, distorted by heat, dyed a grotesque orange, those eyes. She knew it then that sleep would forever be hopeless, her search for answers fruitless: hope had died with Rainbow Dash. She wanted to scream, staring at those eyes, staring— Twilight blinked when the distortion lifted. She sat in a featureless void, face to face with Rainbow. Her friend, sitting with her hindlegs crossed in a strange way, stared back at her in surprise. Rainbow’s voice, the tones free of strain, echoed around her. “T-Twilight?” Twilight blinked again and Rainbow was gone. The empty vacuum blurred and shifted to some other dreamscape Twilight wouldn’t be able to recall. Twilight awoke refreshed. She sat up in bed, releasing a series of satisfying pops up her back and neck. She hopped out of bed and looked out the window; she had slept through the late afternoon, the whole night, and half the morning. She went to her vanity and worked the snarls out of her mane. As she watched her reflection change from a stranger back to herself, she tried to shake the dream from her mind. Rainbow Dash had been there: the real Rainbow Dash. She frowned, whispering, “Rainbow’s gone and that was a dream.” As she said it, she knew somewhere deep down that she was lying. It had really been her friend. That Rainbow was still around was confounding and illogical, but it was true, and no matter how much she tried to dismiss the notion as wishful thinking, it still brought peace to her mind. She hated herself for it. Rainbow snapped her eyes open. She hovered three inches off the ground with her wings folded to her sides. As the realization hit her, she fell to the ground. Wincing, she knit her brow. “Twilight? Why did I see Twilight? Did I mess up?” The goat’s eyes cracked as the voice filled the air. “Your communion with the tree has begun; as you connect with the Bodhi Tree, you connect to the world of the living once again.” In her still state, free from wandering thoughts and distractions, Rainbow realized the voice was coming from inside her own ears. “So I really saw Twilight? In, like, a dream or something?” “Every individual connects in a unique fashion. Your connection might be through another spirit.” Rainbow nodded and dismissed her lingering questions, refocusing on the tree. She wanted to see Twilight again and her mind whirled, disrupting her stillness. It was only when she forced herself to accept that there was nothing she could do to make herself see her friend again that her thoughts quieted. She closed her eyes. Twilight’s trouble with sleep went in the opposite direction: when the nightmares stopped, her fears of sleeping went with them and a desire to see what she knew was Rainbow again gripped her mind. In her waking hours, she warred with herself, unable to shake the belief it had been real, and unable to stop hating herself for the fantasy. She went to bed earlier and earlier, and got up later and later. When she found herself sleeping sixteen hours a day, she turned to her friends. Spike poured out five cups of tea as they sat around the kitchen table. Twilight smiled at him before turning back to her friends. “It was like she was really there. It felt like it was her, not just a dream or a memory, but really, really her.” She kneaded her forehead with a hoof and sighed. “And as silly as it sounds, I still think it was her and not just a dream. Now I can’t stop sleeping, just in case I might see her again.” Pinkie frowned in thought. “...Well, maybe it really was her.” Twilight’s heart thundered with hope, but she winced and shook her head. “But she’s gone. There’s never been a single case in the history of academia concerning communing with the dead that had any sustainable evidence.” She drooped, staring into her steaming mug. She pulled out the tea bag and set it on the saucer. “It can’t be real.” Fluttershy tapped her hoof on the table with nervous energy. “Maybe it is, though. Nopony’s ever heard of magic dying, or leaving something permanently. We’re all off the worn path as it is.” Twilight frowned, her mind racing as she took a sip of tea. Applejack sighed. “I’m sorry, Shy, but I think Twi’s right.” Twilight turned, seeing her own bitter disappointment reflected in Applejack’s expression. “We ain’t got no real reason to be thinkin’ Dash’s still out there where we might find her, an’ gettin’ caught up in all that’s just gonna get in the way of what we gotta do.” Rarity swallowed a lump in her throat and looked away. “I really wish I didn’t agree with you, Applejack. I really, really do.” Pinkie exchanged a guarded look with Fluttershy before offering Twilight a faint smile. “Stranger stuff’s happened.” She gulped down her mug. “It doesn’t hurt to hope, just don’t let it eat you up.” Fluttershy nodded. “What y’all need is a distraction.” Applejack got to her hooves. “I was thinkin’ about it the other day, an’ it struck me that the Elements all broke before, back when we were fightin’ Nightmare Moon. Maybe we should take ‘em back to the temple in the forest: somethin’ might happen.” Twilight’s eyes widened and she grinned, jumping up. “Applejack! That’s brilliant!” She stormed out into the main room. The others followed to find themselves in a cloud of floating things. Saddlebags from the closet packed themselves with water bottles from the kitchen. Sleeping bags flew down the stairs and rolled themselves up. A sheet of parchment stayed half a foot in front of Twilight’s muzzle with a quill scribbling and checking things off as she paced back and forth. “We can leave right away; it’s less than a full day’s trip. We can take readings once we get there, and at the bare minimum we can wait until the night, since that’s when the Elements healed themselves before. Oh! And I can write to Princess Celestia, maybe even Luna; see if they can come if we don’t find anything on our own. Oh, this is exactly what we needed!” She turned back to her friends with excitement radiating from her face. “So if we—” Applejack held up a hoof, smirking at her. “Now hold on there, sugarcube. I think it’s a darn good plan, but I’m afraid I can’t drop everythin’ right this minute. I got chores back home today, an’ if’n I don’t get things squared away with Mac, he’s gonna be right cross come the mornin’ an’ I’m not there. I bet we all got stuff we gotta do before headin’ out.” The others nodded in agreement. “How ‘bout tomorrow mornin’?” Twilight coughed and offered them a chagrined smile. “Sorry; guess I got a little carried away.” She halted the levitating items and turned around, directing the packed bags to line themselves up against a wall, and the checklist to her desk. “This is just the first real direction I’ve had since I started looking. I just got a little too excited.” She turned back to them and found herself pulled into a hug from Pinkie. “It’s good to see you being yourself again, Twilight,” Pinkie whispered so only she could hear. She hugged her friend back. Applejack wrapped her hooves around the both of them, and then Fluttershy, Rarity, and Spike joined, clinging to each other and grinning. Hope had been rekindled. Twilight said her goodbyes to her friends, then double- and triple-checked the packed saddlebags. She sat at her desk, making lists and devising experiments to conduct at the temple, working well into the night, and when she dragged herself up to bed, she felt more like herself than she had in weeks. She tossed and turned, her mind racing through plans and figures, until sleep finally found her. She opened her eyes to a stretch of emptiness. “Rainbow?” She couldn’t help grinning, face to face with her friend, still sitting with her back legs crossed and smiling back at her. “Twilight! It worked! I knew I’d see you again if I just stopped trying to force it! Awesome!” She pumped a hoof in victory and stood up. Twilight stood to match, her hooves touching nothing, but supported on the same plane as Rainbow’s. “Is it really you?” She took a cautious step forward. “It can’t be you.” “‘Course it’s me, egghead.” She puffed out her chest and plastered a cocky smirk on her muzzle. “You didn’t think something stupid like being dead would get rid of me, did you?” Twilight’s smile turned sad. “You certainly sound like Rainbow Dash, but I’m probably just imagining this.” Polishing a hoof on her chest, Rainbow said, “Nope; I really am just that amazing.” She stepped forward and pulled Twilight into a hug. Twilight’s eyes dilated. She could feel the soft hairs of Rainbow’s coat over powerful muscles, could smell fresh rain and the coppery tang of lightning in her friend’s mane. Warmth and vigor poured out of Rainbow, and the only thing missing was the thrumming of a heartbeat. Rainbow’s chest, pressed close to her own, lay still. Twilight felt like all her senses had been pinched, yet she didn’t wake up. Her hooves flew around Rainbow’s neck, pulling her close, every fiber of her being wanting it to be real. “...How do I know it’s really you? How do I know I’m not just imagining this, and going crazy from missing you?” Rainbow sat back from the hug and looked Twilight over. Twilight could read a contemplative ambivalence in her expression as she settled back on her haunches. “I can’t help with that...I can’t change you...or anypony else.” She frowned, her brow creasing and gaze introspective. Shaking her head, she grinned at Twilight. “But you can tell me what’s going on; maybe that’ll be enough...and maybe you can help me. Have you heard of the Elements of Strife?” Twilight’s brow knit. “Like the Elements of Har—” Rainbow snorted, clapping a hoof over her mouth to hide a series of snickers. At Twilight’s glare, she cleared her throat. “Sorry, sorry, I just asked the same thing!” She forced down her chuckles the rest of the way, forcing a serious expression. “Yeah, like them only older; they were around a really long time ago, but sorta died, or something. If I can get their, like, spirits together, I’m supposed to be able to bring ‘em back to life, and come back with ‘em.” Twilight’s brow furrowed as her mind raced; she’d never heard the phrase ‘Elements of Strife’ before, and it very well could have been a message from beyond the grave. It could just as easily be a random assemblage of words by a fractured mind, forming a narrative allowing her to cling to an impossibility. Twilight shook her head to clear it. She had to approach the problem empirically and consider all possibilities; she would have time to analyze later, and disbelieving now would limit what information she had with which to evaluate possibilities. She took a deep breath. “No, I haven’t heard of them. Do you know anything about them?” Rainbow tapped her chin. “Not very much. Right now I’m after something called the Element of Inaction...it’s also called the...body-something’s leaf. Uhh...bowbie-safflower, or whatever.” She gave a hopeful smile. “Bodhisattva?” “Yeah, that’s it! So, you’ve heard of it?” Twilight’s frown deepened. As she tried to recall specifics, it felt unlikely that her mind would bring up such esoteric history unprompted. “Well...the Bodhisattva was a real pony who lived thousands of years ago; there’s a religion in some places in and out of Equestria that follows his teachings and believes he found the path to enlightenment.” “Lighten-whatnow?” Rainbow scratched her head, raising an eyebrow. Twilight smirked at the expression; she’d seen it before and missed it. “It’s a concept of inner peace. Enlightened ponies are said to have complete acceptance of the world, and a connection to everything around them.” Rainbow nodded. “That sounds like what this goat guy’s been trying to get me to figure out…” Twilight started. “What? What’s that look?” “Oh, uh...most accounts say that the Bodhisattva was a pony in life, but a number of them say he was actually a goat.” She shook her head again and refocused on Rainbow. “So this goat is helping you get a leaf that belonged to the Bodhisattva or something?” “Something like that...And there’re five others, and when I get all of ‘em together, I can, like, bring them back to life with their real parts somehow...I dunno how all that works.” She shrugged and attempted a winning smile. “Who told you about this?” Rainbow looked away and rubbed her knee. “Well, uh, I kinda found...Discord chained up at the entrance to my afterlife.” Twilight’s eyes widened. “Discord?! And you trusted him?” Rainbow sighed and rubbed her face. “Listen, I didn’t trust him at the start, but he didn’t have a reason to lie, or try and help me. He didn’t have to do anything; if he kept his mouth shut I’d probably be banging on some mist,trying to find you guys still. Plus, he didn’t even ask me for anything. Besides…” She smirked, her eyes narrowing in challenge. “I could tell he was telling the truth about it. Nopony can get a lie past me if I’m paying attention.” Twilight opened her mouth to object, but paused and let her thoughts drift back through her memories. Sure, she could remember several instances of Rainbow missing some subtlety in conversation, but every time her friend was face to face with somepony she didn’t trust, she always erred on the side of caution, disbelieving until given a compelling reason to accept. She couldn’t remember Rainbow ever being wrong, either. Except once. “Discord tricked you in the maze.” Rainbow winced and lowered her gaze, an old hurt coloring her expression. “He did, but not by lying to me...He showed me Cloudsdale being destroyed. He didn’t even tell me it was real, just showed me a picture. He didn’t trick me with a lie...it was ‘cause I couldn’t help myself from trying to control stuff.” Twilight raised an eyebrow as she watched recognition pass over her friend’s face. She felt like she was intruding, and tried to find something else to focus on, but the little pocket of darkness in which they sat had nothing to it but Rainbow Dash. She shifted her weight from hoof to hoof. “It’s hard to believe he didn’t lie at all, though.” Rainbow waved a hoof dismissively. “Oh, he was lying a lot, just not about the important stuff. I don’t trust him, but I could tell that the Elements of Strife are a real thing, and that he was serious that they could bring me back somehow. I just have no idea how, and I know he’s hiding something about it.” She stepped closer. “Will you help me?” Before Twilight could say anything, she stepped back again. “...Can you help me? I dunno what’s going on with you and the others...I mean, I know I’ve been dead, what, three weeks now?” Twilight’s brow furrowed; she supposed her subconscious could get the time wrong on purpose, but she couldn’t fathom why. “...Rainbow, you’ve been dead for six weeks.” Rainbow stumbled back, flaring out her wings. “Six weeks? I’ve been talking to a stupid tree for, like, a month?!” She danced on her hooves, spinning in place, her whole body itching to move, to do something, to grab hold of somepony and smack some answers out. As she whirled, her form shimmered, wavering in place and growing transparent. Twilight’s heart wrenched, and all thoughts of empiricism fled to the back of her mind. “Rainbow, don’t go!” she cried, leaping forward and hugging her friend around the neck. Rainbow’s body solidified as thoughts of action fled her mind. Twilight’s mane filled her vision, and the random notion, ‘I forgot her shampoo smelled like raspberries,’ flitted through her head. Twilight held her with desperate strength, quaking against her, crying into her neck. She pushed her surprise away and returned the embrace, rubbing Twilight’s back. “Shh, Twi.” “Don’t go, Rainbow, please don’t go...I...I don’t know if you’re real, but I don’t care, just don’t go again,” she sobbed into Rainbow’s shoulder. Rainbow closed her eyes and rested her chin on Twilight’s head. “I gotta go eventually, Twilight, but I’m coming back. I promise you I’m coming back. I just need your help, ‘cause I can’t do it all by myself. Can I count on you?” Twilight gradually stilled against Rainbow, until they were standing in a gentle embrace. Rainbow started to pull away, but Twilight wouldn’t let go. “...You were my best friend, Rainbow. I love all our friends, but I got so close to you...ever since you started coming over for those weekly reading days...And you were so smart, Rainbow. You acted like you were just a jock, but everything came so quickly to you when you applied yourself. Such a fast mind...just like the rest of you.” She sniffled. “I can’t deal with the thought of never sitting around the library and reading with you again. I...I’m imagining this because I can’t bear to have really lost you.” Rainbow sighed and hugged Twilight tighter. “You’re my best friend, too, Twi.” Twilight grew quiet in her grip. “You really got me better than anypony else, and you’re totally awesome in a really eggheady sorta way.” She dropped her voice, whispering, “I’m not just coming back to fight a bunch of bulls, Twi. I owe you six weeks of reading nights.” A weak giggle escaped Twilight’s muzzle, and she at back to catch Rainbow’s gaze. “...If this is real, I’m gonna hold you to that.” They smiled at each other, before the void flashed. Everything around Twilight wavered out of focus, and she re-strengthened her hug. “No! I’m waking up! No, I can’t—” Rainbow’s hoof pressed to her mouth. “Don’t worry; I’ll be here tomorrow.” She smirked. “I’ve been doing this...communing thing for three weeks now, and I don’t think I’m gonna figure out whatever the heck I’m supposed to figure out before then.” Twilight tried to hold on, but Rainbow faded from her grasp. Twilight sat up in bed, blinking the morning sun from her eyes. She swore she could smell rainstorms and copper on her sheets.