//------------------------------// // Chapptere Frë // Story: There, They're... // by FanNotANerd //------------------------------// Just so none of you have to deal with discontinuity, I'll inform you that I have once again edited the previous chapter. I've gotta stop doing that. Hopefully this'll be the last of it. Darkness. It pressed in on all sides, barely held back by the small circle of illumination her horn cast. Primal instincts flared within Twilight’s brain, bringing back memories of being trapped in the crystal caves beneath Canterlot… With a sheer effort of will, Twilight pushed them back. It was important that she keep going. She couldn’t quite remember why, but quickly decided that small detail didn’t matter. Sucking in a quick breath and ignoring the burning in her lungs, she set off down the dark corridor again, galloping at full tilt. Must go faster, she thought to herself. Almost as soon as the thought went through her head, she rounded a corner and skidded to a halt. A massive library stretched before her, shrouded with dust and cobwebs. Twilight slowly stepped between the shelves, jaw dropping in awe. Such a vast repository of knowledge… forgotten. Wasted. Twilight reached out and brushed the pages of a book that had fallen off the shelf and lay open on the stone floor. The ancient papyrus crumbled to dust. This is centuries old, she thought. How many hundreds of years has all this just been… sitting here? She looked up, trying to decipher some way the library was organized. She had to find something. A book? Of course it’s a book, she chided herself. Why would I go to a library to find anything else? Yet, for some reason, she felt like it wasn’t a book she was looking for. It was, but at the same time… A rapid thumping sound echoed through the library. “Twilight? Are you there?” Rarity? Twilight thought, confused. What’s Rarity doing– She jerked her head up from her pillow, blinking wildly as Rarity knocked on the library’s door again. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she squinted at the clock on her windowsill. Almost noon. Wow. I know I sleep in on weekends, but this is a little ridiculous. Yawning, she flung herself out of bed and made for the door – and almost immediately tripped over something. The world flickered and went white for an instant as her chin cracked against the floor, and a bolt of pain lanced through her head. “Spike!” she yelled. A loud crash emanated from the kitchen, punctuated by a series of bitten-off obscenities. A moment later, her dragon assistant’s head poked up from the stairwell. “What?” Twilight clambered back to her hooves, scowling at the books littered over the floor – including the rather heavy volume she’d tripped over. “Spike, what did I tell you about leaving books lying around? You know how moisture seeps up from the floorboards.” She glanced around. “Come to think of it, what are these books doing here in the first place?” Spike raised an eyebrow. “Uh… you grabbed those off the shelves last night. Said you had some reading to catch up on.” Twilight picked one of the books off the floor, frowning at the title. A Beginner’s Guide to Binding Spells? But I’ve already read this one fourteen times. “And when I tried to move them, you said to leave them where they were,” Spike continued. “You looked like you were getting really into it, so I figured I’d leave you be.” He cocked his head. “Are you feeling all right? You’re looking a little odd.” Twilight snorted. Hadn’t she asked him that exact question the day before? Knocking again resounded from the door, reminding both that Rarity was still outside. “Twilight? I can hear you. It’s impolite to ignore a pony at the door, you know.” Twilight shot Spike a desperate glance. “Look, forget what I said last night. Get these organized and re-shelved. I’ll make you a gem cake,” she added when she noticed his grumpy expression. Spike grinned, setting himself to gathering books without a word of protest. Twilight took a breath and quickly ran a brush through her mane, wincing as it snagged on several knots. All right. That’s enough stalling. She raced to the door and flung it open, smiling widely. “Rarity, hi! How’d that trip to Canterlot go?” The fashionista had been away on a business trip of sorts for the past few days. Rarity ignored her for the moment and gave her disorderly mane an appraising look. “Oh, dear me. Did I wake you up? Why, I feel positively awful. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have¬–” “It’s no problem,” Twilight cut in. “Really. I was about to get up anyway.” Rarity didn’t appear convinced. “Are you feeling all right?” she asked. “I don’t recall you ever sleeping in this late. Well, except for that time Rainbow Dash led you to believe that particular barrel of cider was non-alcoholic.” “I’m fine,” Twilight cut in, her cheeks growing warm at the memory. “I just had…” She glanced back in, at the pile of books Spike was clearing up. “It was a rough night,” she finished, turning back to her friend. “Anyway,” she said a moment later, breaking the awkward silence. “What brings you by?” Rarity brightened. “Why, yes! The most amazing thing happened while I was in Canterlot.” Twilight’s smile slipped. However much she liked Rarity, matters of fashion had never interested her. Rarity seemed to catch her expression. “I admit, Fluttershy would probably take a bit more interest in this, but she’s out at the moment. And I just have to tell somepony.” She batted her eyelashes. “You’ll humour me, won’t you?” Twilight rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Sure I will,” she said. "What are friends for?" Rarity mistook the motion for genuine reluctance. “Come now, Twilight. It’s not all dresses and celebrities, you know. Now come along. I brought back some tea that I think you’ll quite enjoy.” ---------- "And then I said, 'Puh-leaze. That gown looks more fit for a funeral than a ball.' And you'll never believe what happened next!" "What?" Twilight asked, absentmindedly swirling the cup of tea Rarity had promised once they got to the Boutique. She’d said it was some kind of imported variety, with a weird name. Apparently, it was quite expensive. Not to mention completely wasted on her. The stuff tasted like a particularly pungent variety of roofing tar. Twilight blinked, realizing she'd just completely missed what Rarity had said. "I'm sorry. Zoned out for a moment. What happened?" Rarity scowled. "I said, he agreed with me. I essentially gave advice to Hoity Toity himself!" "Uh..." Twilight said, at a loss for words. "I take it that's a... big deal?" "More than that!" Rarity exclaimed, too caught up in her story to catch on to her friend's lack of enthusiasm. "Afterwards, he wondered aloud why I didn't have more business. And I replied that because I was in Ponyville, I was a little out-of-the-way. And then he offered to display some of my designs in his Canterlot stores!" Now that Twilight understood the significance of. "Wow. I'm sure that'll help business some." "Oh, it most certainly will," Rarity replied. "Not that I really need it, of course. But, then again, I'm sure I can find a few suitable charities that do. And I suppose some can go into Sweetie Belle's education fund, of course." Twilight sipped her tea, fighting not to gag at the vile taste, and allowed her mind to wander as Rarity prattled on. A brightly coloured banner near the back of the boutique caught her attention. A chill shot through her. "Rarity, I hate to interrupt," she spoke up, "But what's that for?" Rarity followed Twilight's gaze. "Oh, after I got back, I had a burst of inspiration, and needed to clear some room. So I'm going to have a sale on some of my more modest designs." She smiled ruefully. "Honestly, I'm counting myself lucky that I've had any inspiration at all. Shortly after I set out for Ponyville, my head went positively foggy. Did you know that I forgot what I was doing in the middle of a new stitching pattern? I had to go back and look at my sketches to remind myself." "Uh huh," Twilight replied, listening with half an ear. "You do realize that banner says 'sail', don't you?" Rarity frowned, glancing at the banner again. "Of course it does. Why would I advertise a sale without calling it a sale?" "No, not a sale-sale," Twilight protested. "I mean a sailing sail." Rarity blinked, uncomprehending. "I'm not sure what you're getting at, Twilight." "A sail," Twilight said. "As in, the sheet of canvas you hang from a mast. A ship's sail." Understanding blossomed on Rarity’s face. “Oh!” She glanced at the banner, and blushed furiously when she noticed the mistake. “My, that certainly would have been embarrassing. Can you imagine the scandal if I’d hung that outside the store?” “That’s not the point,” Twilight cut in. “You know that letter to Celestia that Spike wrote a couple days back?” “Oh, that little mishap,” Rarity said, chuckling. “You know, ponies around town have taken to calling it the Noodle Incident.” “How was I supposed to know macaroni stuck to–” Twilight cut herself off and took a breath. “Anyway, I happened to notice that Spike used the wrong version of ‘they’re’.” Rarity blinked. “Um… how… horrendous?” Twilight scowled. “When I found it, I panicked and sent a letter to Celestia explaining it. Her reply used the wrong form of ‘its’.” “I really don’t see how–” “And now you’ve misspelled a banner!” Twilight finished. “Three ponies… well, two ponies and a dragon… who, I might add, have a near-flawless record where grammar is concerned, making blatant errors within a couple days? Are you going to tell me that’s not the slightest bit suspicious?” “I’m sure it’s all coincidental–” Rarity started. “And,” Twilight continued, “You were complaining about a foggy head earlier. Spike mentioned yesterday that he had trouble thinking straight. Come to think of it, the Princess even mentioned she couldn’t seem to focus when she visited yesterday! Is that a coincidence?” Rarity’s jaw dropped. “Princess Celestia was here? Yesterday? Oh, my, if I’d known, I would have–” “You’re missing the point!” Twilight shouted, slamming her hooves down on the table and knocking the saucers over. “I was only suspicious yesterday, but now I’m sure. Something fishy’s going on here, and I’m going to figure out what.” Rarity said nothing, staring at the puddle of tea on her table. “That was imported oolong,” she said in an odd voice. “Are you even listening to me?” Twilight snapped. She instantly regretted the harshness of her tone. “Look, I’m sorry,” she began. Rarity’s blue eyes snapped up. “No, Twilight. You listen to me. You are overreacting. I don’t know where you got these ideas from, but they are thoughtless, fanciful and utterly unfounded. I would have thought that you would have thought this through before jumping to conclusions, but it seems I was mistaken.” She looked back down. “And now you have spilled my tea. How am I supposed to enjoy my biscuit now?” Twilight looked away, contrite. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I’ve just been so worked up lately… I wasn’t thinking.” “Good,” Rarity said, smiling. “Now, hopefully we can put this entire embarrassing incident behind us. I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.” Twilight was shaking her head. “Something wrong?” Rarity asked. “You are,” Twilight replied. “Wrong, I mean. You might not believe me, but I know something’s going on. Remember what happened with Cadance?” Rarity let out a heavy sigh. “You’re not going to let this go?” Twilight scowled at the misspelled banner. “Not a chance.” Silence reigned for a long moment. Rarity glanced uncomfortably at the banner, emotions suddenly warring over her face. “You just reminded me of a rumour I overheard. I didn’t investigate, of course; always assume rumours are false. But…” She paused uncomfortably. "I… heard that the new issue of Canterlot was two days late in publication.” “This is unusual?” Twilight replied, raising an eyebrow. She’d never read the magazine. Heard of it, certainly, but any publication that didn’t include peer-reviewed articles didn’t really appeal to her. “Unusual?” Rarity asked. “I’ll say. Thousands… no, tens of thousands of ponies subscribe to that magazine. It’s the biggest regular publication in Equestria! But the lateness of the issue’s only half of it.” Twilight waved a hoof, after the pause had stretched for longer than it should take to draw a breath. “Don’t stop there.” “It was for dramatic effect,” Rarity said, scowling. “Which you obviously have no appreciation for.” She took a moment to compose herself. “The real scandal was that the magazine’s title was misspelled. I didn’t get a look at the issue in question, but there was an extra ‘t’ at the end of ‘Canterlot’. As you can imagine, the entire issue was recalled as soon as the mistake was noticed.” Outwardly, Twilight kept her face neutral. But inside, her thoughts were a turmoil. Rarity leaned forward, lowering her voice. “That magazine’s editing staff alone numbers in the hundreds,” she said. “I can see that getting past one pony. Maybe two. But hundreds? Not only that, but I heard that their most popular column writers have decided to go on an extended sabbatical, claiming an inability to focus. I didn’t think anything of it while I was in Canterlot, but now…” After another moment of silence, “Twilight, if you’re right about this…” “Then what?” Twilight snapped, in sudden ill temper. “What happens then? Do I convince Princess Celestia that the entire population of Equestria’s been afflicted with some kind of mental illness that causes them to make constant mistakes? I’d be laughed out of the palace!” She shook her head. “I already panicked about this once. I’m not doing it again.” Rarity frowned. “What happened to not letting this go?” “I know what I said,” Twilight replied. “And I’m not. But I’ve gotten myself into trouble too many times by acting too quickly. I need solid facts before I act, and I can only think of one place to get them.” Sneaking into the restricted section of the Canterlot Archives would be difficult, but it was something she'd managed before. Movement at the back of the boutique caught her attention. Twilight narrowed her eyes. “Isn’t Sweetie Belle still with her parents?” “Well, it’s rather difficult to predict where she goes,” Rarity replied. “But I can’t think of any reason for her to be here at the moment. Why?” “I thought I saw… never mind.” For an instant, it looked like there was somepony standing in the corner. It’s probably just my imagination. Nothing to worry about. ---------- “And I’m telling you that’s not what the schedule said! I know what I read!” “Oh, do you? How about I go find a copy and we put that to the test?” Celestia frowned as she walked around the corner, glancing at the two arguing guards. “Is something the matter?” she asked. Both guards jumped, spun, and snapped shaky salutes. Unfortunately, the one stallion’s rapid movement knocked over his lance, which had been propped against a wall. The weapon fell over, into a suit of armour, which toppled onto the floor with a crash roughly equal in volume to that of an entire marching band flinging their instruments onto a marble floor. Which, Celestia had learned from rather regrettable experience, was quite loud. The princess winced, her ears ringing, as the two guards began stammering apologies and clumsily gathering up the antique suit of armour. “Leave that,” she said, lighting her horn and grasping the pieces with magic. The two stallions stood glumly to the side as the suit of armour rose into the air and reassembled itself. “It’s all Sarissa’s fault,” one spoke up. “I heard you arguing,” Celestia said, looking the guards over. After a moment, she realized they were the two guards that had been guarding her quarters the previous day. “What was the quarrel about?” Sarissa glared at his comrade. “I was assigned to guard the east corridor from zero-six-hundred to zero-nine hundred. Brightsteel here was supposed to relieve me. But he ‘misread’ the schedule and didn’t show up until eleven hundred hours! I hadn’t even had breakfast yet!” “Well, it was your fault for not eating before your shift,” Brightsteel retorted. “I didn’t misread the schedule!” “You didn’t bother eating!” “Guards!” Celestia yelled, before the two came to blows. “Did you misread the schedule or not, Private Brightsteel?” “Well… maybe,” Brightsteel said weakly. “Ah ha! So you admit it!” Sarissa crowed. Celestia gently rubbed at her eyes. This was the last thing she needed. After visiting Twilight, she’d come back filled with a vague sense of foreboding. And she couldn’t get over the feeling that it was somehow connected to her foggy thoughts of late. She’d slept badly the night before, before she approached Luna and asked her to give her a dreamless night. “Say you misread it!” “Get your hoof out of my face!” “I’m not touching you.” “Get it out of my–” “Still not touching you!” “Both of you, shut up!” Celestia snapped. The guards fell silent. The princess closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “I don’t care if Brightsteel misread the schedule or not. He was not at his post when he should have been.” She looked over at Sarissa. “It’s commendable of you to have remained at your post even without relief.” The corner of her mouth turned up. “So it’s only fair that you return the favour. You can take the rest of the day off.” She turned her gaze to Brightsteel. “And you can cover the postings Sarissa here would have.” If Brightsteel was annoyed, he didn’t dare show it. Missing a guard posting would have earned him a month’s guarding some tower in the middle of nowhere at the very least. He was getting off light. She continued on, leaving the two guards behind her. Misreading the schedule. Of all the silly ways to miss a posting… A frown creased her features. That reminds me. I need to look over those budget reports. With a heavy sigh, she diverted from her planned path to the kitchens and headed to her quarters. She could send for a meal, but it was always just slightly cool when it got to her. Something she’d have to put up with, she mused, until she finished those reports. Ah… I remember when I’d be occupying a command tent, in the pouring rain, with nothing to eat but whatever grass I could forage. Now look at me. Complaining about my Colton Bleu dinner being three degrees colder than I like it and going over financial reports. How the mighty have fallen. The stack of parchment waited on her desk as she entered her quarters. With a groan of resignation, she settled herself before the acacia desk – a gift from the sultan of Saddle Arabia – and pulled the first sheet of the stack toward her. It was a full minute before she realized that she’d read the entire page and still had no idea what it said. Blinking, Celestia looked over the page again. After a moment's concentration, she could extract meaning from the words and figures, but it quickly made her brain ache. Celestia snorted and tossed the page to the side, where it landed atop some of the more recent letters from Ponyville. I’ve been staring at these blasted forms for too long, she thought. What should I expect? Staring at these things all day can't be good for anypony. Grumbling under her breath, she rubbed her eyes again. Maybe she’d take a walk in the gardens, to clear her head. Harmony knew, it could use it. Celestia suddenly lowered her hoof, blinking. She could have sworn she’d seen… “Hello?” she called. Nothing. Celestia settled back, uneasy. “Just my imagination,” she said without conviction. Far beneath the castle, in a long-forgotten library, something chuckled. The sound was alien in a place that had experienced silence for centuries. Until something shifted. And a new power stirred. “Yes, Princess,” the being said. “You believe that.” It looked back toward a series of books laid out on the floor. Everything was falling into place. There was but one last piece that needed to be moved into position. The library’s lone resident cast its awareness outward, focusing in on a purple unicorn in her library. "It's almost done," he whispered, unable to keep from chuckling. "After all this, it's almost over." His laughter rose, echoing off the crumbled stone and ruined shelves. He didn't notice, but as he laughed, tears ran down his face. End of Part 3. To be continued…