The storm had passed.
Or, to put it more precisely, it had ceased to trouble Ponyville Library, beyond the dull light and distant rumbles. The surrounding village seemed content not to respond with sound of its own – its residents were safely sheltered in their homes. The fresh smell of grass and other plants prevailed on the cool air, helped in no small part by lack of competition.
But despite the stillness, nopony could have mistaken Ponyville for a ghost town. Each home’s internal lighting was stark against the dull backdrop of the cloud-muted evening. The library was no exception, although had there been a pony outside to see it, and had that pony been in possession of an eagle eye of which any gryphon would have been proud, they may well have noticed the occasional hint of an entirely different light emanating from the rain-streaked windows of the ground floor.
“Stand back, Spike – I’m trying again!”
The small dragon retreated behind a small fort comprising several haphazardly-stacked books as the room tinted violet once more. A small rag, enveloped in a similarly-coloured glow, floated up into the air and hovered perhaps a metre above the table in the middle of the room.
And stayed there.
Twilight grunted and closed her eyes, her body visibly shaking.
Nothing.
At last, with a gasp from the sweating unicorn, the levitation field failed. The rag catapulted up into the ceiling and dropped down out of sight behind the book wall, terminating its downward journey with a squish.
Twilight made no attempt to speak as she fought to catch her breath, panting down towards the floor. A damp rag emerged from behind the also-somewhat-moist books, supported on a small purple shape.
“‘It’s okay Spike, you just need to stand behind something, you’ll be out of the firing line then...’” the rag said in a high-pitched, muffled voice.
“Oh Spike, I’m sorry...” Twilight breathed, lifting the rag from her companion’s face with a hoof and dropping it into a bowl of water on the table. “I really lost control of it that time.”
“Why,” Spike began in his own voice as he drew an arm across his damp face, “Are you trying to do this again? A rag gets wet, you can just twist it dry, right?”
“Oh, but it’s not just rags, Spike. Or even water. I learn how to do this and I can, in theory, well, assuming the viscous properties of the liquid in question are amenable and the absorbent behaviour of the associated material is not... er... oh. I mean, I might be able to separate the liqu- the wet and solid comp... parts. Of... stuff.”
“Separate wet and solid parts of stuff. Gotcha.” Spike was quiet for a moment. “Why do you wanna do that?”
“Oh! Lots of reasons! It means I could dry things that you can’t wring out, or keep the wet part of something instead of losing it to a drying spell, or I could draw a spillage out of fabric...” Twilight continued, unable to avoid recalling the specific incident responsible for that particular example. Oh, if only she’d been able to perform this little spark of magic at the time. They could have avoided spending an hour convincing the outside portion of Rarity’s bedroom door that spilling a drop of wine onto one’s formal attire at an informal dinner party hardly constituted a banishing offence even if the Princess had been in attendance, never mind something that “shamed her in the eyes of all Ponykind, making her a laughing stock throughout all Canterlot and its environs, to Greater and/or Lesser Equestria and beyond!”... (“No, no, it would most certainly be both! Oh, this is simply intolerable! Somepony come in and suffocate me with a pillow so as not to leave an unspeakable mess when I finally- No! Knock first! What are you, a lady or an oafish lout?!” “That’s it, where’s that darn pillow already?” “Rainbow! Yer not helpin’ none-!”)
Twilight frowned and shook her head, dragging her train of thought back onto the rails. “...I could draw a spillage out of almost anything, really. So, the next time you drip ice-cream onto the rug...”
Spike clamped a claw to his mouth. “Urgh. Don’t say the ‘i’ word. I don’t think I’ll ever stop feeling sick.”
“Fine,” Twilight responded with a small smirk. “The point is, it would be useful, Spike. And even if it weren’t, that’s no reason not to study something! Learning is its own reward! Now...”
She turned to the bowl once more and brought the dripping rag up to eye level with a nonchalant tingle of magic.
“Over-saturation is self-correcting,” Twilight began as she watched the diminishing flow of water cascade back down into the bowl. “But it’s far more problematic to drain the fluid from a medium whose properties dispose it towards retention.”
“Uh...huh,” Spike said. “Looks more to me like it’s hard to make this spell work on water that doesn’t fall off anyway.”
“Yes, that’s what I said, isn’t it?” Twilight replied, looking at the young dragon with a bemused expression on her face. “I... don’t know if I can do this without something to help force it out. Maybe by combining another spell...?” She cantered over to one of her myriad bookshelves, leafing through Volume II of Aqueous Agitation – Impure water manipulation for everyday situations!
“Hmm... these are really designed for reasonable volumes, not damp rags... still...”
She turned back to said rag, still levitating obediently above the bowl full of water. She cocked her head slightly-
And the liquid inside the bowl geysered upwards with sudden, spectacular eruptive force, drenching mare and dragon alike.
Twilight blinked in silence, as water ran down the mane now plastered to her neck.
Hey Twilight – what’s soaking wet and clueless?
“Ooookay...” Twilight levitated a towel across the room and began to dry herself off. “Maybe I should stick to practising Plan A.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Spike said as he rubbed his face with his tail. He then squeezed the appendage out, adding to the pool that had gathered on the library’s wooden floor. “Heeey,” he said, looking out of the window. “Storm’s stopped. And there’ll be loadsa mixed-up dirt-water and mud outside for you to practice on! I can hold the fort here, don’t you worry. From my bed. My nice, warm, cosy... bed...” He sighed with longing. “But mostly dry,” he said, giving Twilight a pointed look.
She raised an eyebrow. “You want me to go outside and study in the dark so you can sleep?”
“It’s a dragon thing. Too much water. We’re fire-breathers. Could be fatal,” he said, tipping his head back and placing a theatrical claw on his forehead. “Must hurry. Getting dark... sleep... comfy bed... only cure...”
Twilight just rolled her eyes. Did he really think that if he did that enough, she would acquiesce?
* * *
As Twilight trotted away from the library, the more traditional clip-clop sounds gave way to their wet-weather counterparts, the muted near-splashes of waterlogged grass. Her intention was not to pace particularly far from her home before finding somewhere to stop and practice – mud was in no short supply, and sufficient distance to avoid any impromptu external redecoration of Spike’s personal sleep haven was all that was required.
Speaking of, she still wasn’t quite sure how Spike had pulled that off. One of Celestia’s own chosen students, the bearer of the Element of Magic, outwitted by her own assistant, a small purple lizard still reeling from a severe ice-cream overdose. Still, she mused to herself, most likely excellent training for eventual parenthood. A constant battle of wills between parent and foal, one that... she seemed to lose a lot?
Well then. Maybe next time.
She glanced down at a water puddle by her hooves, and her reflection frowned back at her. With a quick magical impulse, she lifted the liquid into the air and let it drop again with a splash. Trivial. Easy. The same went for a sample of some nearby mud. But even that was stubbornly resistant to her attempts at liquid separation. She strained again, trying to gain that abstract purchase on the water within the mud... all to no avail. She huffed in frustration, dropping the brown bolus with a splat, and glared down at the taunting puddle once more. Her reflection betrayed signs of deepening irritation as she stood framed against the stars above, the tops of nearby trees, a few puffs of cloud, the skeletal zombie pony-
Her shriek was loud in the stillness of the chill evening, easily outstripping the muted sound of her body impacting the damp grass as she slipped and fell backwards. She jerked her head around to look up in terror at the reflection’s owner – a hunched, tangle-maned individual, leering at her with missing teeth and a sticky dark shadow covering the upper portion of its face and forehead, a shadow that looked horribly like partially-dried blood.
As Twilight gaped, wide-eyed, at the monster, its leer diminished. It dragged a tongue of leather through its lips, but they only peeled apart reluctantly as the owner forced them open and wheezed.
“Muh... Must look... as bad as it feels.”
The creature slumped forward, landing heavily despite the softness of the ground. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
Twilight hadn’t moved, and her leg muscles were striking. Her stare lingered on the withered pony across from her, lying prostrate on the grass, its breaths coming in quiet rasps. As her heart gradually diminished in its efforts to bash its way through her chest, she began to process the sight in front of her.
The pony looked old. Withered. But there could be no doubt there was more to its condition than the mere passage of time. Its body was a weirdly-gnarled and twisted parody of an earth pony. Its fur seemed prematurely muted, grey in colour, disposition scrambled as though moulded by rough passage through a hedge. Lending credence to such a theory were the leaves dotted here and there across its body, trapped in the chaotic tangle.
“I thought... just a second... might not find you,” it breathed, ending on a cross between a light chuckle and a hacking cough.
Twilight found her voice at last. “Are... you okay?” Revise that to ‘found her voice, then immediately felt stupid for using it’.
Another quiet snort combined with the ghost of a smile. “Doesn’t matter, Twilight.”
She had to stare at that. It – he? – knew of her. Saw fit to address her by first name. “I am... Ms Sparkle, yes,” she responded, a slight edge to her voice as she got back to her hooves. This wasn’t getting any less strange.
Like everything else, however, that served only to amuse him. “Of course you are. I... have something for you.”
“I don’t-” Twilight cut off abruptly as the pony screamed, losing her balance and crashing back down into the sticky mud once more.
“What?! What’s-” she stopped again as she realised the pony’s head was now resting on the ground, eyes closed. Her heart crashed like a brick to the bottom of her stomach.
He’s dead.
Dead!
Oh Celestia, there’s no spell for this! There wasn’t anything I could have done, I swear...
Her eyes widened.
Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no. He’s dead and nopony will believe me when I say he just screamed and died. Who even does that! ‘Argh splat’. Nopony, that’s who. He died and I’m the only pony who could have killed him! Twilight the Murderer! Might as well start packing my bags right now ’cuz I’ll be banished for sure and nopony will speak to me again and I’ll probably run into some horrible monster and get eaten and I’ll never complete my studies and-
She blinked out of her hysterical mental diatribe as her ears perked, realising that the quiet sound invading her consciousness was a low whisper, barely audible even in the near-silence of the darkness surrounding her. Her apparently-not-dead (-oh-thank-Celestia-oh-thank-you-thank-you-thank-you) companion was still caught in the grip of unconsciousness, but she could see his lips were moving even as a tiny trail of drool escaped from the corner of his parched mouth.
“...sn’t trying to upset her... being stupid... no more... had to be...”
Twilight was frozen, unsure of what to do. Should she try to rouse him? Judging by his physical state, that might just finish him off.
A small moan demonstrated that would not be necessary as the pony blinked open its eyelids, eyelids apparently now forged from lead. His eyes were bloodshot and wet.
Twilight rose to her hooves once more. “Can you hear me?” She tried. “What happened?”
“N...nothing,” he choked. “J-Just being s-stupid... h-here.”
He dragged his left foreleg up from the ground, and fumbled with the catch on the saddlebag he was, Twilight now realised, wearing. She could have been forgiven for her oversight – the bag was scarcely in a better state than its owner. Tattered, and drained of colour.
“Y-You’ll need it...” he rattled, putting his hoof inside the bag. “When the t-time comes... you’ll know.”
He presented a shaking hoof to Twilight, upon which rested a small metal... trinket. She looked at it in confusion for a few seconds, before capturing it inside a levitation field – if only to spare the leg muscles of her rasping companion, for whom even this gesture was proving extremely difficult. No sooner had she released him from its burden than his foreleg collapsed to the ground, remaining motionless on the grass.
The unicorn flicked her eyes over her new acquisition, and to her credit, made an earnest effort to establish what the hay she was even looking at. It was a metal symbol of some kind, resembling a... well, maybe an exploding star? That or Equestria’s most prickly leaf. She lowered her eyes to the fallen stallion once more.
“I don’t understand.”
“You will.”
A moment passed as Twilight stood in silence. She looked from the pony to the trinket floating ahead of her face and back again, trying to decide which of the two merited her attention more.
“I’m sorry, you’re being very cryptic. Please can you tell me what’s going on?”
The pony swallowed, grimacing as he did so.
“I’m dying, Ms Sparkle.”
The words chilled Twilight. Of course, she only had to look at him to see that. A part of her had known it from the moment she cast eyes upon him. But to hear the sentiment delivered with such monotone dullness, such... morbid certainty... it was something that deep down she found herself refusing to accept.
“Don’t... don’t say that! There’s a hospital right on the outskirts of Ponyville, I can get help! Just, just tell me what happened to you...”
The pony closed his eyes, and his head twitched. It took Twilight a second to realise he was trying to shake his head.
“M..M..Much...too...l-late f-for...” his breath caught in this throat, and he coughed repeatedly. Pathetic, rattling wheezes.
“Just, just hold on!” Twilight began as panic started to take hold of her, “I’m going to teleport, and I’ll bring back someponies who’ll-”
“No! Please... don’t let me... not alone...”
Twilight froze, and in that moment, she knew his time was measured in seconds, not minutes.
Much too late, indeed.
He let out a faltering breath through the grass that could have been a whimper. “Th-th-this isn’t... I w-was supposed to g-get that to you, and th-that would be the end. L-Let me go...”
Twilight looked down at the shivering pony in front of her, a tightness in her gut. She had no words to do it justice. How awful must it be, to fade in pain, far from anypony you had ever known? What could be so important, so evil, that it demanded such a forlorn spectacle as its sacrifice?
She made up her mind. Raising a foreleg, she took a step towards him. And another. As she drew up alongside him, she hesitated, her eyes once again running down his crooked spine, every twist a well of torment. Finally, she lifted a hoof and placed it with tender care on his shoulder. There was nothing more she could say, and she knew it. But she could provide some token comfort. To this fading, suffering pony, she also knew that could mean all the difference in the world.
He relaxed, and his breaths grew almost inaudible. His expression softened, and he opened his eyes for the last time.
“I...I-I’ll t-tell them... I’m s-s-sorry...”
He looked at her, nodding his head. Neck stiff like steel, a ghost of a nod, barely even a movement.
And then it was as though he was drained of all energy, and all will. He let out a final, sighing breath, and bowed his head to the sweet grass.
Embracing that most deep of sleeps.
* * *
The night was well under-way now, yet activity in Ponyville had, if anything, increased. It had not taken long for rumours of a death on the streets of town to spread, and the dramatic appearance of a number of Royal Guards only served to cement such a conclusion.
Not that Applejack set much store by rumour, mind. Or gossip of any sort. A mare should buck her own apple trees and leave everypony else’s the hay alone, she thought as she trotted along in the mud, her destination visible over the thatched rooftops either side of her.
Naturally, such a prohibition didn’t extend to rumours of a friend in danger. Applejack didn’t know the details, or what she could do to help, but she sure as sugar wasn’t going to sit around on her bucking end doing nothing until she knew for sure that there was nothing she could do.
She also didn’t need to be terribly close to the library to know something was ahoof.
After all, those Royal Guards posted either side of the door were hard to miss.
“Halt.”
Applejack drew up short. Those spears were very sharp, weren’t they?
“Name.”
“A-Applejack, Sir...Sirs,” she said, bowing her head slightly. “Ah’m a friend of Twiligh’s, an’ Ah’ve come t’-”
“Ms Applejack? Oh, praise Celestia. Can you please go in and talk to her?” He nodded at his unicorn companion, who lowered his gleaming spear and refocused his magical energies around the handle of the library’s front door, clicking it open. All military bearing had ceased, and now that he was bathed in light from inside, Applejack could see that the pony that had addressed her was looking decidedly ruffled. Although that might have been the feathers.
“We have been trying to explain to Ms Sparkle that she is not under arrest. She is not going to be banished, executed, given detention, imprisoned, expelled, moved down a grade or otherwise punished, and neither one or other of us will be marking her tests in the foreseeable future,” the pegasus rattled off, a definite thread of exasperation woven into his tone. “Or giving poor character references to the Princess.”
Applejack finished squinting at something only she could see, and looked back at the pegasus guard.
“Then why are y’all here then? Ah’m guessing it ain’t a social call.”
“We have our orders, Ms Applejack. Please, go in. Do you want the bag?”
“The whatnow?”
The pegasus grimaced. “For her to breathe into.”
“Uh... naw, that’s fine. Y’all take care, now...”
The pegasus nodded, and the farm pony stepped on through the wooden doorway into the library, blinking as she adjusted to the light. The door closed behind her.
Pandemonium reigned. An uncountable number of books was scattered all over every visible surface and, inexplicably, a decent-sized puddle of water surrounded the table in the middle. A distinctly-fed-up-looking Spike was sitting on a small column of dusty tomes, and Twilight herself was pacing up and down with jerky, erratic movements, her face obscured by the book floating ahead of her.
“No, no no no, Changeling magic has a different signature, but it would still be there!”
Applejack cleared her throat.
“Ugh!” The book flew unceremoniously aside and crumpled onto the floor, to be replaced in an instant with another. If Twilight had heard anything, she paid it no heed.
“Maybe it manifests only under certain conditions!” The book ahead of her had barely opened before another batted it aside. Pages fanned past, then froze in place, with Twilight herself stiffening the moment she started to read. “Oh nonono, please no... it says here there’s no way of knowing what the conditions are... he didn’t say... WhyDidn’tHeSay?!” The book rocketed up into the air and smacked hard against the ceiling. Spike had already dived from his makeshift chair before the paginated projectile could make the return trip. Twilight was oblivious, staring ahead as several pages wafted down, abject panic on her face. “What if it needed him to be alive?! What if it was really, really important! I’ve doomed us all to-!”
“Howdy, Twiligh’!” Applejack interjected, with not inconsiderable volume.
“Applejack!” The orange pony jumped as Twilight teleported across the short gap separating them, manifesting well inside of the boundaries of even the most generously-relaxed definition of personal space. “So glad you came before it was too late!” She grinned in her friend’s face, far too wide. “The guards are being really nice, letting me stay in the library while they decide my punishment! I hope you won’t all resent them when I’m gone!” She floated over a cup of what Applejack hoped was apple juice, slurped at it noisily, and set it down with a thud. “It’s only a matter of time before I’m banished now!”
“Banished? Twiligh’, what are you talk-”
“Banished! Expelled! Dispossessed! Outplaced!” Twilight accompanied each utterance with an involuntary little hop. “He died, and nopony saw me murder him! But who’s going to believe he came from Celestia-knows-where to give me that,” she tilted her head towards the table, “and then suddenly died! I thought maybe it might have a message, or an implanted spell of some kind, but there’s nothing! Who... who dies to hoof over a worthless trinket? Nopony, Applejack! Nopony’ll believe me! Nopony’s been murdered in Ponyville in living memory and I come along and murder a pony within just a few years! If I’m lucky, they’ll banish me!”
She wavered in place, sucking in breaths of air through her clenched teeth.
“Twiligh’,” Applejack began at last, “Ah really think yer makin’ a mountain out of a moleh-” A momentary look of disgust crossed her face as she cut herself off.
She swallowed, and began again. “Twiligh’... Ah’m sorry yer upset. But y’all don’t need ta worry none. Ah believe ya, and Ah know all yer other friends’d say the exact same thang. Frankly, they c’n banish ya over mah dead body an’ all.”
Twilight continued to take sharp breaths as she looked at Applejack, trembling. Then, she seemed to deflate.
“I... I couldn’t do anything...”
“Ah know,” Applejack replied as she put her foreleg around the droop-eared unicorn. “Ain’t nopony should have ta see what y’all saw t’night. If there’s anythang ya wanna talk about, anythang at all... Ah’m here for ya.”
Twilight relaxed at last and squeezed back, a small but genuine smile now adorning her lips.
“Thanks, Applejack. I... I’m being silly, aren’t I...”
“N...Naw. ’Course not,” said Applejack, the predestined bearer, custodian and master of the Element of Honesty.
“Oh, finally.” The two mares turned their heads in unison to face in the direction of the voice from below. Spike was busy extracting the second piece of cotton from his other ear. “Can I sleep now? Like, without hearing books falling all the time? This dragon really needs his,” he yawned, “schleep.”
“I’m sorry, Spike. You’ve been very patient with me. Of course you can.”
“Alright!” The dragon sped upstairs with a velocity that belied his apparent sleeplessness.
Twilight smiled up after him, before turning towards Applejack once more. “I’ve always had trouble sleeping when there’s a – can you hear that?”
BANG.
In an instant, Twilight was skidding along on her back, a veritable blizzard of pages still choking the air as she came to a halt. She found herself nose-to-nose with a cyan mare.
“IHeardThereWasTroubleAndTwilightMightBeHurtAreYouAlright?”
“Rainbow? How did-?”
The sound of galloping hooves and unicorn magic signalled the next interruption, and both Dash and Twilight looked back to see a spear held aloft. Quicker than thought, Dash spun and dropped into a defensive posture, ready to charge if need be...
...and the spear remained in place. Its bearer, the unicorn guard from outside, let out an immense breath of air, his features moving from shock to irritation. His pegasus companion was soon alongside, looking likewise miffed.
“Ms... Dash. Please do not do that again. We have been ordered to use lethal force on anypony acting aggressively towards Ms Sparkle, and flying past her armed guards, literally through the door to her home, is highly... aggressive.”
Rainbow Dash threw her head back, tossing her mane behind. “She’s my pal, I heard there was trouble, and I was darned-well getting to her as fast as I could. End of.”
The pegasus guard looked as though he would have liked to argue further, but instead merely grunted and gestured back towards the doorway to his unicorn companion, who for his part levitated the pieces of the door into place behind them as they left.
“Not all that fast though, were ya Rainbow.”
“I only just heard. I was kinda doing something at the time.”
“Yuh-huh, really. What?”
“Napping. What else?”
There was a spluttering sound.
“Rainbow... could you please... get your tail... ptthhbt... off my face?”
“Huh?” Dash craned her head down between her forelegs, giving her an inverted view across her belly. “Oh. Whoops! Sorry Twi!” She took to the air and hovered. “Glad to see you’re okay, though.”
Twilight felt a definite sense of déjà vu as she rolled over and stood. “Thank you for your concern Rainbow, but I’m alright,” she said, brushing off the pages that had stuck to her. “Whoever that pony was... he didn’t hurt me.”
“Darn right. I’d’ve killed him,” Dash growled. “All I heard was a pony had died, and you were there when it happened. Didn’t know what to think. You don’t know who it was?”
Twilight looked sad, and shook her head. “No. After he... I went to get help, and the ponies from the hospital picked him up. Next thing I knew, a whole bunch of Royal Guards had arrived, and they caught up with me as I was coming back. Said they’d been trying to find me,” she said, biting her lip. “They interviewed me, and I told them everything I knew, which wasn’t much... they didn’t seem interested in, well, arresting me, but a pair of them have been following me around ever since.”
“You’ve got your own Royal Guards now? That’s awesome!” Dash grinned back at the cracked door. “Need to teach ’em who your friends are, though. S’what I’d do.” She nodded agreement at herself, and then stopped. “If I needed guards, that is. Which I totally don’t.”
There were voices outside the door, albeit too muffled to hear.
Applejack cast an uneasy eye in the direction of the muted conversation. “Ah don’t much like it. Somepony’s gonna get herself hurt with them there twitchy spear ponies standin’ around outside all day.”
“She WHAT?!”
The three ponies barely had time to register the high-pitched exclamation from outside before they were blasted by the shockwave of an extremely familiar BANG, and for the fourth time that evening, Twilight found herself on the floor.
“Twilight!” The pink pony had the unicorn pinned down, and her eyes were bulging maniacally. “They said a pony had died and you were nearby when it happened and I thought maybe you’d been hurt too which is silly because I knew you weren’t hurt and you don’t look hurt and, oh, I am sooo glad you’re not hurt!” She proceeded to plant kisses all over her supine companion’s face, in much the same manner a woodpecker might attack a fence post.
“P-Pinkie!” Twilight spluttered and flailed her hooves to no avail. “Pinkie, I’m f-fine! Really!”
“No you’re not. You’re Twilight!” Pinkie giggled and stood back. Twilight caught her breath and once again clambered to her hooves, wondering if she oughtn’t consider investing in some sort of protective barding. Applejack and Rainbow Dash had almost succeeded in censoring their grins, too.
“Just... just go in, curse you.” The pegasus guard’s voice carried freely through the once-again-doorless library entrance. His eye was swivelled back, fixing Pinkie with a glower through the doorway, but his head was facing something out of sight.
“Thank you, most kind of you!”
“Um, sorry... I’ll just... go in, then...”
Rarity trotted through into the library with characteristic grace, followed in short order by Fluttershy, who was reversing into the room at a far more mundane pace, her body stretched low as she crept along, never breaking eye contact with the pegasus guard.
“Twilight, darling, we all heard the news-”
“-that I might be hurt? Thank you all so much for coming, but nothing bad happened.” Twilight’s head drooped. “To me, anyway.”
“Oh, but it must have been so awful,” Fluttershy whispered. “That poor, poor pony...”
“I know,” Twilight sighed. “I’ve been trying to find out what was so important about his... delivery. He knew who I was. There must be something I’m supposed to do.” Her horn ignited, and she levitated the trinket from the table in the middle of the room, hovering it in front of her five friends. “I can’t find any infused magic. I don’t even know what it’s supposed to be.”
“Not a fashion accessory, I can assure you. How tawdry.”
“If that’s a spur, Ah ain’t never seen a spur that big.”
“He came all the way over and died to give you that? That’s... seriously lame!”
“Oooh, it’s not chocolate, is it? Check it! Checkit-checkit!”
“Um, I don’t... I’m sorry, I don’t know what it is. It’s... nice?”
Twilight floated the object back towards her, frowning at it yet again. “I didn’t think it would mean anything to any of you. It’s just...” She sighed again. “I feel like this is a test I’m failing. That pony was counting on me. He was,” she shivered, “badly hurt, but he made the journey in that condition. He wanted to make sure I received this. What if-” Twilight blinked back tears. “What if I don’t solve it? What if he died for nothing?”
“Goodness, Twilight,” Rarity said, suddenly alarmed. “You don’t think he was injured by other ponies? Other ponies trying to stop him?”
“That’d explain them there Royal Guards,” Applejack said. “They really are guardin’ you an’ that...spur an’ all, Twiligh’.”
“Uh. Duh? If that’s the case, why didn’t they take the stupid thing someplace else?” Rainbow Dash countered. “Somepony wants it so bad, how about they fight the guards of Canterlot Castle for it?”
“If’n the Royal Guards are here, that means Princess Celestia knows about what happened,” Applejack replied. “Ah think we c’n trust her ta do the safest thing fer us all.”
“You can ask her yourself.”
Spike was wheezing from the top of the staircase, a letter held aloft.
“A letter this late?” Twilight dropped the trinket back onto the table, then illuminated the unfurled scroll within a field of magic and floated it down towards her. “Thank you Spike. Oh, but that can’t be good news...”
“You’re telling me,” Spike moaned. “I was just drifting off, too...” He turned and disappeared out of sight, his muttering lingering a while longer.
Twilight’s friends stood in anxious anticipation as she scanned the letter.
“It’s from the Princess, alright. It says... she needs to see us. All of us. Now. And...” She swallowed. “I’m to stay with the guards or you ponies at all times.”
“That does it!” Rainbow Dash back-flipped from mid-air into a standing position and made for the doorway. “I wanna know what’s going on, now.”
The pegasus standing guard at the entrance was deep in conversation with his unicorn companion. He broke off when he noticed Dash approaching.
“Can I help you, Ms Dash?”
“We’re going Canterlot Castle. All of us.”
The guard nodded to the spear-toting pony next to him. “Then we shall escort you.”
“Yeah... you gonna tell us what’s going on, or what?”
“Ms Dash?”
The rainbow-maned pegasus rose on her wings, bringing herself face-to-face with the armoured guard.
“You’ve been standing around Twilight all night long, she tells me! And now the Princess herself is telling her not to leave your sight. If she’s in danger, I gotta know!”
“Ms... Dash, I’m sure the Princess will explain it all in due cour-”
“Then there’s no problem telling me now, is there?” Rainbow Dash interrupted. “Unless you think I want to hurt her. Me, the Element of Loyalty...”
“It’s... it’s not that, Ms Dash,” the pony said, looking more uncomfortable by the second. “I do not have all of the information, and felt it would be better for Ms Sparkle to get the full story from-”
“So tell me what you do know for Celestia’s sake,” Dash implored. “If there’s trouble on the way, I wanna help!”
The pegasus guard sighed, and shared a look with his fellow guard, who shrugged.
“Very well, since you really want to know. We are guarding Ms Sparkle, yes.”
Rainbow Dash nodded. “What from?”
The guard pawed at the ground a little. “Further attacks.”
That made Dash squint. “Huh? She wasn’t attacked...”
The guard drew himself up. “No, it appears not. I told you: I do not have all the information. But...”
He swallowed.
“I have been told that the pony Ms Sparkle encountered was not the first of its kind, and that... and that Ms Sparkle...”
“What?” Dash was only more earnest in her confusion. “‘Ms Sparkle’ what?”
The Royal Guard glanced downwards, and then looked past Dash, into the library, directly at Twilight.
“Ms Sparkle... as far as we know... is the only pony ever to have survived such an encounter.”
In the stunned silence that followed, Twilight’s five friends looked at each other, and then shifted focus to Twilight herself.
She was standing, jaw agape. Gazing not at her friends, no – she had eyes only for the sharp metal trinket, the enigmatic last ‘gift’ of that now-deceased pony, which continued to rest, indifferent and motionless, on the wooden table in the centre of her very home.
* * *
“It doesn’t make any sense.”
Five of the six ponies sat outside the throne room. The heavy wooden doors were sealed shut and flanked by a pair of Royal Guards, different from those that had escorted Twilight and her friends through the castle to this, the heart of the Equestrian Government. Their Royal protectors had been relieved by a new shift as soon as the train bearing them to Canterlot had pulled into the station. The six ponies had been taken to this waiting area, and told to, well, wait. Wait for the Princess. Nopony complained. In fact, nopony had said anything much at all during the journey from Ponyville, and that verbal desert had yet to moisten even now, as they sat together with little else to distract them.
Only Rainbow Dash was on her hooves, unable to sit still for more than a few minutes. Electing not to travel on the train with the rest of the group, she had instead taken position on the air currents above, determined that no pony should be able to approach without being sighted well in advance. Now, she paced in silence, burning nervous energy, but she was not alone in contributing to the lack of conversation. A dour mood had taken hold of the ponies, as if grieving for the loss of their friend – their friend, who, as far as she was concerned, was most definitely still alive.
“It really doesn’t make any sense,” Twilight muttered.
“Y’all gonna have to narrow it down, sugarcube,” Applejack responded at last. “Mah head’s spinnin’ like a lasso.”
“He didn’t try to kill me.” Twilight’s tone was neutral, matter-of-fact. “Or even hurt me. Oh he scared me half to death, yes, but he saw me long before I saw him. If he’d wanted to... to... he could have done that without giving me a chance to realise he was even there.”
“Maybe he was trying to get close?” Dash offered, pausing mid-stride. “But he didn’t get the chance for that.”
“But that’s just it,” Twilight said. “He did get close. Well, I got close. Close enough to put a hoof on him. He didn’t try anything, not even then. And not only that...” Twilight looked off to the side, images swimming in front of her. The bloody face, the heaving of his body as he coughed...
“He was in no condition. He could barely stand.” She huffed. “It really, really doesn’t make sense.”
“And you don’t think... that ugly little spur knickknack... was intended for some nefarious purpose against you?” It had not taken long for Applejack’s nomenclature to creep into Rarity’s speech; she seemed only too happy to use it to refer to the metal trinket whose physical appearance she so despised. In fairness to her, no better name had yet to be ascribed to the mysterious object.
“Not unless he was trying to kill me through frustration,” Twilight said through gritted teeth. She no longer had the item with her. Rainbow Dash had insisted it be delivered with a separate detachment of Royal Guards, and Twilight found herself reluctantly agreeing. The courier pony may have died to bring it to her, but in spite of her verbal protestations she was unable to let go of the unease she’d felt ever since the pegasus guard’s revelation.
She was aware that a silence had fallen, and she glanced up to see Rarity looking rather taken aback.
“Oh...” She closed her eyes, tears of guilt threatening to flow. “I’m sorry, Rarity. I’m... I’m frightened,” she almost whimpered. “I don’t know what to think any more. I thought I was supposed to be helping this pony and I, maybe I was, but that doesn’t mean I was helping him to do something good... I feel... really stupid. I shouldn’t have touched the stupid thing.”
“Twilight, dear...” Rarity rose to her hooves, and hugged her lavender companion. “You have nothing to apologise for.” In front of them, four ponies nodded. “I can’t even begin to imagine how ghastly these last few hours have been for you. You’re safe here. And together, we’re going to find out what this fuss is all about, you’ll see.”
Twilight sniffed and nodded, and her other friends took turns embracing her.
“Come oooonn...” Pinkie said as her turn came at last. “Lessee a smiiile... I’m not letting go ’til I see a smiiiiile...” She rocked, to-and-fro, and Twilight was helpless as she tilted in back and forth in sync.
She made her best effort, but resistance was futile.
“Okay, okay!” Twilight uttered as the traitorous corners of her mouth curled upwards. “You win. Again.”
The six friends all chuckled as the tension finally broke, much to everypony’s relief.
There was a heavy rattling on the other side of the door, as thick chains were removed, and bolts drew back.
Most of the smiles faded, none more so than Twilight’s – at least, until Pinkie gave her a playful bop on the nose and stood back, offering her unicorn friend her best reassuring grin as she proffered a hoof.
A warmth spread through Twilight, fortifying her as the doors creaked open. With friends like these... she knew she could face anything. The light from the throne room reflected off her tears. She wiped them with a few quick rubs of a foreleg, and then took Pinkie’s hoof, riding her friend’s assistance to a standing position.
Two more pegasus guards stood in the doorway.
“The Princess will see you now.”
A deep breath, and Twilight was ready.
The ponies – the friends – moved as one, as the guards stood aside and took up flanking positions. Silence had once more taken root, but now it was deference, rather than unease, upon which it was founded.
The door closed behind them as they walked. The plush red carpet made its own contribution to the reverent silence, muffling hoofsteps into soft, delicate sounds.
Princess Celestia, Twilight’s mentor, her Princess, her... friend, stood across the room from them. Her disposition as regal as ever, but her expression – unfathomable. Twilight averted her eyes, anything to avoid attempting to divine meaning from the lack of warmth, the absence of that fond smile. She gazed at the stained glass murals studded into the walls, tributes to her and her friends, their past triumphs together. The dead of night had denied them the beams of light that could glisten them to their spectacular best, but the coloured panes retained a muted dignity all the same. Was another soon to join them? Or – and now she was trying to silence the voice that prodded her, teased her – the voice that reminded her that tonight, the most recent addition to this kaleidoscopic history could have been her last.
“My little ponies. Thank you for coming.”
The six ponies halted before their Sovereign, and each bowed low. Celestia lifted a hoof to implore them to rise once more – was there the faintest air of impatience, a desire for expediency?
“Please forgive me for keeping you. Diamond Sift is nothing if not meticulous in reporting the full history of his investigations. Even,” she sighed, “even the most fruitless of investigations. I could at least take solace in your safety here, Twilight.”
Twilight had to moisten the inside of her mouth before speaking. “You... wanted to see me, Your Highness?”
The alicorn princess nodded. “I think it best if I begin with the event that started this all. Namely...”
“Th-the dead pony?”
Celestia nodded again. “A single deceased pony is a tragedy for all concerned. A pony losing his life through injury in Ponyville is all but unheard of. But this particular example is rarer still. And that much more tragic for it.” She blinked, and it was much in evidence that she was not merely paying lip-service to the sadness of the occasion.
“No ponies had been reported missing – neither in Ponyville, nor the surrounding towns. Nopony arrived to identify him. Assuming that possibility even exists now.” She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. The ponies standing opposite had no need to ask the reason for her pause.
“In such circumstances, the Royal Coroner casts as wide a net as she can. She contacts all neighbouring territories, all embassies we maintain, to enquire on the subject of missing ponies. All unsolved cases.”
Princess Celestia looked down at the group of friends, who stood in dead silence, hanging on her every word.
“They all responded in the negative. All save one.”
“You... you found out who it was?” Twilight felt a surge of hope. Maybe they could get to the bottom of this after all! But the surge died almost as soon as it had begun, for the Princess was shaking her head, looking more morose than ever.
“No. They could not tell us who it was. However...”
She looked at Twilight.
“What do you know of the Outlands?”
Twilight racked her brains. “I... across the sea, to the east? I didn’t think there was anything in the way of civilisation there.”
“That’s because there is none. At least, not that we would consider such. The Outlands are a place of anarchy. Of,” she couldn’t meet Twilight’s gaze, “banishment. Exile.”
It took a few short seconds for Twilight to join the dots. Once she did, her eyes were wide. “Are.. are you saying... that all of the ponies that have been... b-banished... end up there?”
“Not all of them. Only the most severe cases.” The Princess drew herself up. “Every pony has a right to choose their own destiny. Some choose a life of uncertainty and misdemeanour. They refuse rehabilitation. My subjects deserve protection from them.” She looked almost pleading, willing Twilight to understand. “It is a terrible thing to take a life. The single option is to ensure that they are unable to bestow harm upon innocent ponies.”
“So you... exile them across the sea,” Twilight frowned. She was torn. Was the Princess not right? Was banishment not preferable to execution, to years of fruitless incarceration? If a pony was not suited to life in civilisation, was it not better to permit them to live the life they chose instead? Is an objective answer to such a question even possible?
“But what... what does this have to do with the courier?”
“The what?”
“Oh... it’s...” Twilight tried to find a form of words that stepped around the issue of her foolishness. “The pony who died... wanted to deliver something. So I, sort of...” She mumbled.
“I see. I will discuss Diamond’s findings on that matter in due course,” Celestia replied, her face inscrutable again, and infuriating for it. “But for the time being – you wanted to know the relevance of our current discussion.”
Her horn glowed, and blue light flickered across all of the ponies present as the image of a city appeared before them, of gleaming white spires in the centre surrounded by green parks and more stunted, blocky buildings on the periphery. A thick wall encircled it in its entirety, tall as a cottage and easily wide enough to permit wagon traffic.
A small chorus of “Oooh”s rang out from Twilight and her friends. If this shining city was located somewhere in the Outlands, she thought, then the ponies living there surely couldn’t be all that bad?
“This is the Lodestar Republic. A city-state. It is the one bastion of civilisation in the entire Outlands.”
“And... they were the ones who responded? They’re friends of ours?”
Celestia seemed to take her time formulating an answer to that one.
“It is true to say that we are on reasonably good terms,” she said at last. “In practice, the Equestrian Government has very little to do with them. Relations are cordial, however, they have difficulty with alicorn royalty. They do not recognise the authority of the Equestrian Crown.”
The friends looked at each other; a full house of narrowed eyes and puzzled expressions. The Zebra and Gryphons of course had their own means of governance, but for a nation of ponies to refuse to accede to the Crown had the air of insult to it. Princess Celestia raised the sun every day, surely to these ponies’ great benefit – as with all Equestria. What ponies would be so arrogant as to refuse even to acknowledge her authority as the Bringer of Light to everypony? Rainbow Dash in particular appeared to be undergoing some manner of internal struggle, opening her mouth with an indignant expression, closing it with the hesitation of a pony unsure of exactly what she could get away with saying in the presence of royalty.
“But... why in Equestria not?” Leave it to Rarity to respond in the most couched, diplomatic manner possible.
“It is more common than you might think,” Celestia said. “I am blessed that the ponies who live in close proximity to the throne are so much in favour of my rule. Prejudice of this sort has often taken hold in more remote territories.”
Rarity said nothing. Nor did anypony else. The Princess sensed the undercurrent of affront.
“Perhaps I should clarify – the attitude is not one of hostility – not from the ponies of Lodestar, at least. It is more a deep-seated tradition, and a source of pride that they are independent, self-sufficient, and have no need of royal protection. Relations are, as I say, cordial, and we exchange diplomatic communiqués on an occasional basis.”
“And tonight, you’ve exchanged some.”
“Yes, Twilight.” The alicorn’s horn blinked out, and the projected city vanished, leaving the throne room feeling darker than ever.
“Their initial response came far more quickly than is usually the case, and was not anything we anticipated. They sent their condolences, and requested, with the greatest respect, that we supply them with information pertaining to the pony that had been murdered.” She furrowed her brow, and Twilight surmised she was re-living her original reaction. “We replied to clarify that the circumstances of the pony’s death, whilst highly unusual, are still the subject of an on-going investigation, and no conclusion of premeditated murder has yet been drawn.”
She looked from one pony to the next, lingering on Twilight for only a fraction of the time.
“It was then that we received the full story. For a number of weeks now, the Government of the Lodestar Republic has been under attack. A number of high-profile officials and researchers have been ‘assassinated’.” She looked at the floor. “It happened the same way every time. They would find the body of an unidentifiable, badly-injured earth pony, so withered and damaged that even its cutie mark could not be determined...”
Twilight realised she had not noticed a cutie mark on the courier pony.
“...and the assassination victim themselves. Lying amongst the upheaval of a violent struggle.” She flicked her eyes up at Twilight. ”Torn and broken.”
Rarity placed a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. The others looked upon her in with combined fear and concern, and Pinkie began edging in her direction in a manner she presumably considered subtle.
“It seems clear that these assassin ponies are somehow brought to a target, and then released in a storm of uncontrolled violence that lasts until both ponies have expired.”
The Princess drew on a reserve of strength, and stood tall to address Twilight once more. “I do not wish to make you uncomfortable, Twilight – I would not burden you with this information if I felt it unnecessary to do so. I believe you when you say the pony you encountered did not seem to be hostile towards you. But it is the one example that fails to fit the pattern. You are unique in this regard. If somepony wanted you out of the way, then something prevented it in your case. The Council of Lodestar is extremely interested to know what.”
Twilight opened her mouth, keen to discuss the trinket, surely the key to all of this, but Rainbow Dash got there first.
“And who’d want Twilight dead, huh? We need to take ’em down!” She stopped for a beat, aware she’d taken an angry step towards the Princess. She cleared her throat. “Your... Highness.”
“The ponies of Lodestar claim these ‘assassinations’ as the responsibility of a faction that has taken root in the Outlands,” Princess Celestia replied, unfazed. “I believe they currently have one of their top teams gathering intelligence on the main hub of operation.”
Pinkie had reached Twilight at last, and abandoned all pretence at subtlety as she grabbed Twilight into another hug, leaving the unicorn teetering in awkward imbalance courtesy of her involuntary new position. “But, but, but... whhyy?” Pinkie wailed. “Why’d they wanna hurt Twilight?” She pouted.
“The victims until now have all been magical researchers, or officials presiding over magical research,” the Princess replied. “They refused to give me details. I had intended to ask you what you had been studying prior to this event, Twilight...”
“Before I spent this evening experimenting on that pony’s delivery, you mean?” Twilight’s eyes went wide. Moving on. “I-uh, I was trying to work out how to dry things, you know, without a drying spell!” She blurted, a wide grin on her face.
There was a long silence, and yet, it was almost possible to hear the crickets.
“I see.” Princess Celestia turned, and took a few steps back.
“The delivery you mentioned has been investigated further by Diamond Sift, a forensic investigator from the Canterlot Spellweavers. The magical contingent of the Royal Research Division here in Canterlot.” She turned around. “He has been unable to divine any presence of an implanted spell. The only thing he could determine was the presence of a faint trace of magic, far too weak to be such a spell. He believes it to be the residue from one.” Her expression quivered. “The same residue was detected on the body of the unknown pony himself. It is not unique to the object he delivered. As far as we can determine, there is nothing special about it, apart from a robust construction.”
Twilight took some time to digest this new information. She was ashamed of the part of her that felt somewhat elated – she hadn’t failed! Not even a top researcher in Canterlot could find an embedded spell! The elation soon passed, however, and her unease flowed back in with galling impunity.
“So where does that leave us?”
“It brings me to why you are here.” Celestia’s horn ignited again – a letter floated from a small table beside her throne and stopped within reading distance ahead of her. She began to read out loud:
“...this latest development has made it abundantly clear that these repugnant assaults on our way of life are no longer merely our concern.
As part of our investigation into the cause of these attacks, we request that we be granted the opportunity to interview the survivor, and examine the item delivered unto her. Rest assured that Ms Sparkle will be in safe hooves, and that our Special Operations ponies will be brief and to the point. We do ask, however, in the interest of minimising unrest in the Outlands, that Ms Sparkle cross the border into our territory alone-”
“What?! No way. No darn way in Tartarus!” Rainbow Dash had taken to the air in her indignation, her forelegs folded. “Someponies have got it in for Twi and we’re expected to let her trot into a land of jerkface criminals all by herself? Why don’t they take their ‘request’ and shove it up their-”
“Daaash...” Twilight said from the corner of her mouth, her eyes bulging.
“What?” She looked around, seeing her other four companions looking similarly terrified, one eye on her, the other on the Princess she’d just interrupted. The Royal Guards were looking less than impressed.
Princess Celestia herself was staring at Rainbow Dash, and the moment stretched as even Dash herself started to have second thoughts; her wing-flapping slowing to an insufficient rate to prevent her from sinking down towards the immaculate carpet once more.
Then, the Princess’ mouth curled into what was unmistakably a wry smile.
“Not quite the words I would have used, Rainbow Dash, but I concur with the sentiment. Such a request is unacceptable.”
Almost everypony in the room seemed to let out their breath in unison.
“The intent is clear, of course. They have no desire for either Royalty or Royal Guards to enter their realm.” Quiet muttering in response. “And not without reason – the exiled criminals of the Outlands would enjoy nothing more than an opportunity to attack the ponies they believe to be responsible for their current situation.” She sighed. “Even if the fault is ultimately their own.”
“Oh,” said Twilight, realisation setting in. “That’s why you asked everypony to come here, not just me.”
“Correct, Twilight. The ponies of Lodestar are willing to accept a compromise whereby nopony of direct royal connection may enter the territory, but you and your friends may. It is why I have delayed the-” Celestia broke off suddenly, before resuming. “I cannot in good conscience order any one of you into the Outlands. Do not be under any misapprehensions – it is a very dangerous place to set hoof.”
There was a squeak.
“But I have been assured that the ponies you will be meeting are trained professionals, and that they will keep you safe during your meeting, which will take place just inside the border at an abandoned train station. The leader’s name is, is...” Celestia squinted, her mouth twisting as she fought to recall.
“Midnight Phase, Your Highness,” offered one of the guard ponies.
“Thank you,” Celestia responded. She allowed that to sink in.
“I cannot order, no. All I can do is request. Request that, for the sake of ponies like Twilight, you help the ponies of the Lodestar Republic deal with this threat.”
The friends looked at each other, at Twilight. There was barely any hesitation before they nodded – Dash with the vigorous enthusiasm of a pony that had long ago made up her mind, Fluttershy with the closed eyes and grim determination of the one for whom friendship overrode fear.
Celestia smiled.
“I will provide you with details of your journey in due course. Until then, pack for a few days away from home. Please stay safe, my little ponies. And – Rainbow Dash?”
The pegasus mare froze upon being addressed directly. “Y-Yeah?”
“Your protective instincts will be indispensable once you are outside of Equestrian jurisdiction. I grant you the responsibility for the safety of everypony. I know you will do your utmost.”
Rainbow Dash grinned and took to the air, saluting her Princess with gusto. “You can count on me!”
Celestia nodded. “In that case, you-”
“Sister, what is this?”
Princess Luna, alicorn custodian of the night, had announced her arrival in the throne room, her ethereal mane flowing behind her as she moved with effortless grace towards Celestia and the others. “The appointed time for our cycle of duty draweth near. Am I to slumber yet more?”
“No, my sister,” Celestia responded, her eyes fixed on a point just above the ponies’ heads. “I am just sending Twilight and her friends on their way, and will retire momentarily.”
“A meeting at so tardy an hour? Sister, I do not comprehend.”
“It was necessary, dear Luna,” Celestia responded as a wing twitched. “Twilight and her friends have a journey ahead of them, and are soon to leave-”
“An excursion? Wherever to?”
Celestia sighed in defeat. “The Outlands.”
Luna fell deathly silent. Twilight could have sworn her face drained of some of its deep colouration.
“The Outlands,” she repeated, her voice flat.
Twilight looked from Celestia to Luna in confusion, struggling to understand the significance of the exchange – before it suddenly dawned on her. This was the land to which ordinary ponies were banished. Who could understand their plight more than the pony who had been banished for an entire millennium? Who would feel their pain the most?
Luna shared a look with Celestia, and then turned to the six friends.
“I trust that my sister hath enlightened you as to the nature of the ponies you faceth in that place.”
The friends barely nodded – the Princess’ sombre tone was infectious.
“Then I ask one thing of you. Remember. Remember, all of you, the lessons taught during all of your trials and tribulations. Remember that the ponies you faceth, no matter how vile some may seem, are still ponies. And nopony is beyond redemption. Remember Discord, the Element of Disharmony himself, reformed. Remember...”
She bowed her head, and then ploughed onwards with renewed determination.
“Remember me. One thousand years of bitterness, of loathing, of wishing for nothing more than eternal night, and the end of Equestria as a place of happiness and friendship. If I can be redeemed from such a void of evil, what pony cannot?”
She looked at every pony present, begging, imploring, as Celestia stood there with glistening eyes.
“Please. Remember.”
Twilight nodded, and rubbed an eye. “We promise.”
“Then, it is time for you to leave, my little ponies,” Celestia said at last, drying her own face. “Farewell, and please return to us with all haste.”
The friends turned – hesitant, casting views back towards the Princesses. The guards led them across the carpet, to the large doors through which they had entered. The six ponies went through, and their guards stepped back to close the heavy barriers once more with an echoing clang.
Luna waited until they had bolted the doors again and were occupied in rattling the chains back into position across them.
“I saw him, sister. Somepony dreamt a fragment this eve. Of a distraught mare. Of him.”
The white alicorn had no words for her nocturnal sibling. She shared another look with the Princess of the Night, before unfurling a wing and placing it over her, soft and tender.