Libraries were usually such warm, welcoming places. No matter how crowded the shelves might be, they were always well lit so scholars could read a book pulled straight off the shelf. Even a shelf of books coated in dust seemed welcoming in its own way. Instead of appearing neglected, dusty books spoke of mystery. What was in this tome that had lain undisturbed for years?
Of course, over it all would lie the distant buzz of muted conversation, as scholars muttered to themselves while choosing a book or quietly discussed their finds with their colleagues. Every so often one would see a pony walking past, gesturing madly, clearly trying to keep his voice down as he detailed some new discovery.
This library had not experienced that in some time. The only light was the faint glow put out by the large crystals in the cavern. The only sounds were that of water dripping through the rock, or the deep groan of tons of stone settling.
It was through this that a stallion walked looking out over the toppled shelves and rubble of what had once been a grand library. His hooves made no sound as they touched the uneven stone floor, and no dust stirred in his wake.
Abruptly he stopped, feeling something tugging at his mind. The bindings were too strong. This was as far as he could go.
The stallion longed to explore the rest of the library, but he turned back. There was no use trying to fight it. Besides, he could feel her coming. She was getting closer with each passing moment.
With nothing else to do, he settled himself down to wait. Some might say that he’d be quite good at it, with all the practice he’d had.
If only I could see the sun one last time before she comes, he thought. Just one, final glimpse.
But what could he do? Nothing, save wait.
And so he patiently waited, in the darkness. Knowing that soon, very soon, it would all be over.
----------
No matter how much animosity existed between members of the Royal Guard, they always agreed on one thing: guarding the portcullis was undoubtedly the worst duty they could possibly be saddled with. They were expected to stand there with perfect posture, staring straight ahead, for four straight hours. When there wasn’t any traffic into the palace, the job became unbearably boring. And if anything, it was worse when there was traffic, simply because every tourist that passed by could never resist the temptation to try and eke a reaction out of the guards.
It was easy to understand that any guards stationed at the portcullis would rather be anywhere else. Especially if the palace was being practically besieged by an angry mob.
Sarissa dodged to the side, biting off a stream of curses, as yet another cobblestone flew past. Of course there had to be a large pile of the things right outside the walls from the previous day’s construction. Brightsteel remained at his post, safely covered by the portcullis’ arch, although his face had gone even paler than his white coat would make seem possible.
“What in the hay is taking Aspis so long?” Sarissa complained, nervously eying the crowd outside. So far, the wrought-iron portcullis was doing an excellent job of holding them back. It wouldn’t last long once they thought to bombard it with loose cobblestones, but for the moment it held.
“I have no idea!” Brightsteel snapped. “Maybe he decided to go to the Princesses before committing a hundred guards to the gate. That ever occur to you?”
Outside, the mob began chanting again. “LET US IN! LET US IN! LET US–”
“Shut up!” Sarissa bellowed through the gate. His voice was lost in the tumult. Groaning, he rubbed his forehead with a hoof. “You’d think losing the ability to read and write wouldn’t be something to riot about.”
“It’s not what happened,” Brightsteel retorted. “It’s the fact that it happened. I mean, we’re supposed to protect them from stuff like this, remember?”
“We’re not perfect!” Sarissa protested. He stomped angrily. “If Celestia had released a public statement or something, they wouldn’t be as scared!”
“How was she supposed to know? This happened practically overnight! You didn’t even mention it until this morning!”
“LET US IN!” the crowd howled.
Sarissa glanced out at those faces. Some were angry. But most were wide-eyed and desperate. They were frightened out of their wits.
Why did it have to come to this? he thought. Why couldn’t we stop it?
----------
As she galloped along the corridor, Twilight’s mind raced furiously. Celestia knew she’d stolen the book. There was no denying that. And for some reason, she hadn’t minded. That could mean one of two things. Either one of the nation’s diarchs had suddenly become okay with her personal protégé bending the law to suit her needs, or she thought Twilight could do more good with the book than she.
There’s no other answer, Twilight thought. Something has to be attacking ponies’ literary skills. I don’t know how, or why, but Celestia wouldn’t have let me go if it wasn’t!
She stopped herself short. But if it’s bad enough for Celestia to know, why am I not being affected?
She shook her head. It wasn’t important. She’d been offered an opportunity, and she was going to take it.
----------
Luna shook her head as she stared after Twilight. “She still doesn’t know,” she said in tones of disbelief. “How could she not know?”
“Somehow, she wasn’t affected,” Celestia replied. “And therefore, she is the only one capable of stopping it.”
“How? If even we fell victim, how could she resist?”
Celestia shook her head. “I don’t know. But it means that she’s the only one capable of stopping this attack.” She smiled wryly. “For centuries, I defended my country against every foe I could imagine. And yet this one slipped right past. I almost admire it.”
Luna frowned. “There is one thing I still do not understand. If Twilight does not know what’s happening, why did you not tell her? Would she not work better knowing what is at stake?”
“Twilight is capable under pressure,” Celestia replied, “but she has a tendency to break suddenly, and unexpectedly. If she knew the true extent of what was happening, she’d panic. And just like that, we would lose our last hope.”
Frown deepening, Luna looked around the room. “I still think–”
Her thought was cut off as Aspis burst through the door, chest heaving. “Your Highnesses,” he gasped, bobbing his head in a perfunctory bow. “Forgive me for the intrusion, but we have a situation. There’s a mob at the castle gates, demanding to see you. Fortunately, the guards stationed there had the quick thinking to lower the portcullis, but...”
“A mob?” Celestia snapped. “When did this happen? Why was I not notified sooner?”
“They arrived minutes ago,” Aspis replied, leaning against the doorframe. “I would have told you sooner, but... to be frank, your quarters aren’t exactly close to the gate.”
Celestia turned away, mind racing. “Should I deploy additional guards to the gate?” Aspis asked.
“No!” Celestia said. “The ponies must be scared out of their wits, to riot like this. Deploying additional guards will only make them more violent.” She directed a cold stare at her Acting Captain. “I would rather we make it through the day without bloodshed.”
Aspis wilted before that stare. “As you wish, your Highness,” he said, gulping. “I apologize. I should have seen...”
Celestia ignored him. She had just felt something she hadn’t expected. Her eyes snapped up, and met her sister’s, which were also wide with surprise. She felt it too.
“Those naïve, ignorant, careless foals,” she said. “They brought the Elements here.”
Aspis frowned. “The Elements are here? Is that a bad thing?”
Celestia barked a laugh. “Actually, I might kiss those ponies when I see them.” She glanced at Luna. “Bring them here. Keep them safe. We have to get them, and the Elements, to Twilight as soon as possible. Go now. Don’t argue.”
Luna opened her mouth as if to contest the point anyway, but then nodded and backed into the shadows. A moment later, she was gone.
Celestia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had always been good at planning. Most everything that had ever befallen her nation had quickly fallen into traps and pitfalls she had prepared long before. Now, however, everything was happening too quickly. There was no time to plan. “Prepare my regalia,” she said to Aspis.
“Princess?” he replied, brow furrowing in confusion. “What are you going to do?”
Please let me be doing the right thing, she thought fearfully, gazing toward where she sensed the Elements. The last time she had been unable to plan, it had ended with her sister trapped on the moon for a millenium. “I’m going to give the ponies outside exactly what they want,” Celestia replied. “I only hope I can stall for long enough.”
------------
“Are we there yet?”
“No,” Rainbow Dash said to Pinkie, peering around a corner. The street was deserted. Heaving a sigh of relief, she stepped out from the alleyway, trying to peer in every direction at once.
They had encountered three more mobs since the first one. The second one, apparently recognizing them as the Element bearers, had then proceeded to chase them into Canterlot’s Old City, hurling bits of stone and abuse in similar volume. Whatever had whipped the populace into a frenzy, they seemed to think that those in a position of power or authority were at fault. So, upon seeing the third and fourth groups, the five friends had simply hidden in an alley and waited for them to vanish.
“All clear,” Rainbow called behind her.
“You know,” Applejack said as she emerged from the alley, “you ain’t exactly the best pony to be scoutin’.”
“What makes you say that?” Rainbow shot back.
In response, Applejack looked pointedly at Dash’s seven-hued mane. “You ain’t exactly, uh... inconspicuous.”
“Nopony saw me, did they?” Dash snapped.
Applejack shrugged. “Ah’m just sayin’ there’s a risk. My eyes are just as keen as yours, an’ Ah blend in a mite better.”
Rainbow snorted. “You’re awfully confident for somepony who was painting the ground with her lunch a little while ago.”
“Ah get airsick!”
“Girls!” Rarity snapped, startling the two. “I understand that we’re under a small amount of stress, but now is not the time to start taking it out on each other!” She glared at Applejack, who had adopted a nakedly sheepish expression. “Yes, Rainbow isn’t exactly a master of camouflage, but if she is spotted, she can escape quickly and easily. Therefore, she is more fit for that duty.”
“Who died and made you Princess?” Applejack shot back sourly.
“What do you mean, escape?” Rainbow snapped at the same time. “You think I can’t fight my way out?”
“Are we there yet?” Pinkie asked.
“NO!” all three shouted, turning back to her.
“If you intend to attract every rioting pony in the city, you’re doing an excellent job,” Luna said dryly, stepping out of the shadows and fixing the four ponies with a bemused stare.
“Nobody asked you,” Dash spat, casting a brief glance over. “Now I’ll have you know that I can...” She trailed off, her face going white, as she realized what she had just done.
“Thine tongue is as sharp as ever, I see,” Luna remarked, looking the four ponies over. “You have the Elements, I gather? No, do not ask how I know. My sister and I sensed them as soon as you entered the city.” She glanced over them again, frowning. “Was there not another of you?”
“Girls?” a soft voice said from the alley. “I heard yelling, and thought something might have–” Fluttershy cut herself off, skidding to a halt as she saw Luna standing in front of her four friends. “Oh my,” she said quietly, before giving a squeak of fear and ducking behind a small pile of refuse.
Rainbow heaved a heavy sigh and walked over to where a quivering pink tail was still visible. “Come on out, Flutters. Luna’s not scary any more, remember?”
“Hold on,” Rarity said to the Princess. “How did you get here? I didn’t sense any magic.”
“You see shadows,” Luna replied. “I see... something different. Doorways, I suppose you could call them. Now follow me. There is no time to lose.”
----------
With a heavy sigh, Twilight looked up from the book she’d stolen from the Depository and rubbed her eyes. Yup, she thought. There’s no doubt. Something’s definitely causing this.
The book had made several more references to spells influencing the brain’s language centers, all apparently developed by Cognitus. Princess Celestia wasn’t kidding, she mused, flipping back to a rough explanation of one such spell. The spell itself didn’t require much magical power, but magic was arranged in a hideously complex web. The mental focus required for something like that would be unbelievable.
“But what does it mean?” she muttered, slamming the book shut. “I know it’s possible to make a pony illiterate with magic. I think that’s what’s happening right now. But what do I do about it?”
She rubbed her eyes again. She’d been staring at those yellowed pages for so long that her eyes were starting to go foggy. Even wresting meaning from the words required intense concentration now. Groaning, Twilight got up and began to pace around the deserted library. A small part of her wondered why there weren’t at least a couple ponies scanning the shelves. Then again, if this illiteracy had spread as much as she thought, what point would anypony see in walking around a library?
She shook her head, trying to dispel a sudden image that had popped into it. Every time she thought of a library, she always had that strange half-memory of rows of shelves, surrounded by broken stone. Where have I seen that before? she thought. It was right there, at the edge of her memory, but frustratingly out of reach. All she knew was that it was somehow important.
With a heavy sigh, Twilight sat back down at the table and closed her eyes. “What am I supposed to find?” she asked the empty room.
Of course, nothing responded. Shaking her head to clear it, she opened the book again, hoping to find some clue she might have missed. Maybe the half-remembered library had been mentioned in there somewhere.
Suddenly, she blinked, staring at the pages in confusion. The words looked... different, somehow. They didn’t quite seem to make sense like they did before. Frowning, she flipped past a few more pages, a sick feeling rising in her throat. Every page looked the same as it had, but at the same time, it looked different enough that reading it was impossible.
No, she thought, continuing to turn the pages. No, no, not now! Not when I’m so close!
Frantic, she slammed magic into the page, weaving by instinct, hoping to force the words back into their proper shapes. For a brief instant, it looked like it was about to work... and then the magic sputtered and died. Twilight slumped back, panting, sweat streaming down her face. It was sweat. There was no way those were tears. She had no time for tears now.
Scrubbing at her cheeks, she looked at the book again, hoping to glean something, but she knew it was no use. Whatever it was in her head that let her make sense of the words was gone.
I never actually believed it, she thought. All this time, all this research, and until now, I didn’t actually think I was right. I guess I was hoping to be wrong.
“And now it’s too late!” She slammed a hoof against the table in frustration, ignoring the bolt of pain it sent up her foreleg. No! She would not give up now! This was nothing but... an inconvenience! She could still look at the pictures, right?
Twilight stared straight ahead for a moment, and then sank to the floor with a groan. “Dear Celestia, I can’t do anything.”
Her ears suddenly pricked up. Were those voices she heard? Hadn’t the library been deserted?
The heavy doors at the far end of the library banged open, and five very familiar faces poured through. Five pairs of eyes met hers at the same time, and expressions of glee appeared on each of those faces.
“See?” Rainbow Dash crowed, doing a celebratory backflip. “I told you she’d be here! Once an egghead, always an egghead.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Applejack muttered. “Don’t go rubbin’ it in. Ah still remember that time you got stuck in that tree, and Ah had to go and–”
“No need to go into that,” Rainbow said hurriedly, cheeks colouring. “I’ll admit, you had the idea a second after me.”
“How is the research going, Twilight?” Rarity asked, eyeing the book on the table. “If you have need of the Elements, we have them with us.” She frowned. “Twilight? What’s the matter?”
Twilight looked around at her friends. They all looked toward her, confidence shining in their eyes. They’d follow her to the ends of the earth, and maybe beyond. They had brought her the one thing she was missing, her final ace up the proverbial sleeve.
And she could do nothing.
So she did the only thing she could. She threw her head back and laughed until tears ran down the sides of her face. Her friends all went silent, staring at her with concern, but she didn’t care.
At least we’re all in this together, she thought bitterly.
----------
“Princess Celestia, permission to speak freely.”
“Permission denied,” Celestia replied curtly.
Aspis bristled. “Well, I’ll speak anyway. Your Highness, this is a terrible idea.”
“I am perfectly aware of that,” she replied, never slowing.
“You haven’t seen the mob out there! Those ponies are scared out of their wits, and they’re out for blood, immortal or no! All it takes is one stray brick, and it’s all over.”
Celestia laughed. “Aspis, I have faced dragons, minotaurs, and the demons of Tartarus. Are you suggesting that after all that, I hide from an angry mob?”
“At least let me give you some guards! No more than fifty. What monarch is seen without an honour guard, especially in a situation like this? I can–”
“What need I fear from my own ponies?” Celestia asked quietly. “An honour guard will only tell them that I fear them. These ponies expect me to pull a solution out of my mane, Aspis. What will they think if they see I am afraid?”
“What will they think when they realize you have nothing to tell them?” Aspis shot back. “We have nothing! We don’t even know who, or what is doing this!”
“And that’s where you’re wrong,” Celestia replied, smiling. “I have made my decision, Aspis. Please don’t make me forcibly relieve you.”
Her Acting Captain drew himself up, and saluted with far more stiffness than was really necessary. “As you command, Princess,” he grated.
Celestia took a deep breath, and opened the palace’s main door. Sunlight flooded in, and with it the roar of the mob.
There was no turning back now.
----------
“Uh, Twilight?” Applejack asked, taking a tentative step forward. “You all right?”
Twilight shook her head, trailing off into quiet chuckles. “No,” she said. “No I’m not.”
“Were we not supposed to come?” Fluttershy whimpered. “I’m sorry! It was all Rainbow’s idea!”
Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Knew I could count on you, Flutters,” she said dryly. “Whaddaya mean you’re not all right?”
“Is it the same for all of you?” Twilight asked. “You know what I’m talking about.”
A pregnant pause hung in the room for a long moment. “How long?” Applejack finally asked.
“I lost it right before you came in,” Twilight replied, shaking her head. “So this is what you felt like. Would you believe I didn’t actually believe anything was really happening until now? It’s just too weird.”
Her friends exchanged confused glances. “You’re, uh... taking this surprisingly well,” Rainbow said cautiously.
“What am I supposed to do?” Twilight snapped, her temper suddenly exploding. “Break down and cry? No! I know when I’m beat. All I can do... all any of us can do is just accept this and move on. We failed. I failed.”
“You’ve given up,” Rarity said, surprise etched into her voice. “Just like that.”
“Like I said,” Twilight snarled. “I know when I’m beat. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to give this book back to Princess Celestia.”
She started toward the table, but stopped as she felt a hoof against her chest. She looked up, meeting Rainbow’s magenta eyes. “What’s wrong with you?” the pegasus hissed. “This isn’t the Twilight I know. The Twilight I know wouldn’t give up!”
She’s right, a small voice in the back of Twilight’s head said. You’ve been through worse. She ruthlessly quashed it. Maybe she’d been through worse. But then, she’d always known what to do. There had always been a way out. Now, there was nothing.
She looked around, at the shelves crammed with books. All that knowledge, useless now. Maybe it would be confined to some forgotten storeroom now. Locked away in the dark, to gather dust...
Something stirred in the back of her head. A memory, suddenly clear, of rows of weathered shelves, gathering dust in the dark. It wasn’t a dream, she realized. It’s a vision of some kind. Could somepony do that? Just project images into your dreams? I guess so. Anything seems possible today, doesn’t it?
Rainbow backed away, having seen a new fire light in her eyes. “Uh, Twilight? Listen, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit a nerve there.”
Twilight suddenly realized that she was angry. Burningly so. “It’s not you, Rainbow,” she said, surprised at how cold her voice had become. How dare anything do this? Ponies had worked their entire lives to create what surrounded her. If anything was going to make it all meaningless, it wouldn’t do it without facing her wrath.
But she had to direct it. Temper it. Blind wrath wouldn’t get her anywhere. But a focused blade, like a scalpel... “Tell me. Did you ever hear of an earthquake that struck Canterlot a few centuries ago?”
“I remember reading something like that,” Rarity said hesitantly. “Comes with building a city on a mountain. Seismic upheaval, and all that.” She looked around. “What? You think I find all my gems by luck? I have to know where to look for them.”
“Several major structures in Canterlot collapsed,” Twilight went on. “including the old Archives.” Over twenty thousand volumes, including some of Cognitus’ own works.
“You think whoever... or whatever’s doing this is in the ruins of that library?” Rainbow asked, sounding incredulous. “That sounds a little far-fetched to me, Twi.”
“This morning, I didn’t think you could erase a pony’s literacy,” Twilight replied. “I’m ready to believe anything right now.” She looked around. “I’ll say right now, I’m taking a huge gamble here. The crystal caves are unstable, and half the passages are only still standing because of spit and prayers. Are you still with me?”
To her surprise, Rainbow barked a laugh in reply. “Do you really think I’d let you walk into that alone?” she asked. The others stepped forward, voicing their support.
Twilight blinked, smiling. What did she expect? Hadn’t these very friends followed her into situations far worse? “Let’s go, then,” she said.
She turned and headed out the door, still smiling. Battered she might be, but she was not beaten.
----------
The roar of the mob hit her like a physical blow. But Princess Celestia didn’t falter. The sun never wavered in its path across the sky, and neither would she.
Oh, but it hurt her so to see her ponies reduced to such a state. Rage flickered within her, and was quickly buried. She had to be focused. Calm, collected and serene.
The mob continued to roar as she approached the gate. They hadn’t seen her yet, but when they did, there was no way to predict what would happen.
“Open the portcullis,” she said calmly.
Sarissa gaped openly at her. “Open the... are you insane?”
Celestia said nothing; just stared coolly at him. The pegasus paled, and hurried to do as she said. At that moment, the crowd noticed her, and if anything, the volume of their cries increased.
With a screech of abused iron, the damaged portcullis began to rise, and the crowd surged into the gap.
And then stopped, as if it had met an invisible wall.
Celestia strode calmly through the gate, gazing around at the sea of frightened faces. Several glanced at chunks of cobblestone in their hooves, or held in a telekinetic grip, and quickly dropped them, seeming surprised they were holding them in the first place. As she advanced into the crowd, a gap formed around her as ponies shuffled to give her space. Within moments, an utter silence fell across the courtyard.
----------
Twilight stopped, looking around frantically. “It has to be here somewhere!” she said, glancing around the mountain’s rock face. The cave’s entrance was easy to miss, hidden in a cleft between two boulders. Boulders exactly like the ones scattered all around, the result of centuries of rockfalls.
Her friends spread out, searching the rock face just outside the city. The area was oddly quiet, devoid of its usual birdsong. Twilight looked around, hopelessness beginning to rise in her chest again. How could she even know the caves intersected where the library used to be?
“Here!” Rarity called, pointing toward a familiar-looking pair of boulders, magic sparking around her horn.
Twilight felt a surge of admiration for her friend. Clever. Her gem-finding spell would react to the crystals. She ran over, and looked down into the abandoned shaft. Several others like it existed around the city, but they were capped off. This one must have slipped through the cracks. Good thing, because this was the one she’d escaped through with Cadance.
“Come on!” she called, ducking in and lighting her horn. If this was another dead end... no. She would not consider that possibility.
Still, she couldn’t shake a dreadful premonition of some kind. Relax, she told herself. The caves held when you and Cadance were going through them. They’ll hold now.
“Pass out the Elements,” she said anyway. “Be ready for anything.”
----------
Celestia let the silence in the square stretch for a moment longer. These ponies really didn’t mean any harm. She no longer saw malice in those eyes. Fear, yes, and a healthy portion of embarrassment, but nothing truly dangerous.
I should never have let it come to this, she thought as she surveyed those faces.
But she had. And now, she had to make the best of it.
“In the past,” she started, her voice ringing through the square, “our enemies were always known to us. We always had a face, or a name, to rally against.”
She paused a moment to let her words sink in. “Quite simple, when you think about it. Just knowing what it is lurking in the shadows makes it far easier to face. But what do we do when we don’t have a known enemy? Do we create one? Do we turn against our friends, neighbours, or anyone else you know?”
There was an almost collective movement in the crowd as ponies averted their eyes in shame, trying to look anywhere but at the Princess standing before them.
“A few ponies today are doing something far greater than I could have expected from them,” she declared. “They have chosen to face this nameless enemy, the one who has stolen something from us that can’t be measured, and whose worth cannot be estimated.”
----------
Twilight raced through the caves, the light from her horn scintillating off the crystals sprouting from nearly every surface. Her friends followed behind, without questioning where she was going, or how she knew where to go. Their trust spurred her onward. Against impossible odds she might be, but she would not let them down!
----------
“They are heroes,” Celestia said. “Regardless of whether they succeed or fail. Now, my little ponies, I ask you. What are you?”
The assembled ponies in front of her suddenly began milling in confusion. Celestia frowned. That wasn’t the result she was expecting. Then she felt it. A deep rumbling, more felt than heard. One that continued to rise in pitch and intensity, until–
With a bone-jolting, mind-rattling blast, a shock wave rippled through the ground, sending most of the ponies in front of her to their knees. Cracks shot through the cobblestone streets, and the ground itself heaved as if alive. Down the street, windows exploded outwards, sending shards of glass in every direction. A storefront collapsed entirely, filling the air with dust.
All this happened in the space of a blink. There was no time to react. No time to even think. All Celestia could do was look upwards in horror as the massive stone ramparts above her let out a hideous groan.
And then collapsed, sending fifteen tons of stone and mortar thundering down on top of her.
----------
Guided by instinct, Twilight ran on. Her earlier doubts were forgotten. This had to be the right place. She didn’t know why, but she could just feel it.
All around her lay evidence of the caves’ origin. Clumps of broken crystal, pickaxes and minecarts lay strewn through the caves, left there after a series of collapses made the mines too unsafe to continue expanding. And so their equipment was simply left where it lay, forgotten and untouched by time, back from when the crystals had still been sought after for their magical properties. Even now, Twilight could feel the magical interference they put out in their unrefined state, making even projecting light a challenge. Something as complex as teleporting would be impossible.
Normally, she would have wanted to stop and have a look around, perhaps study the crystals a little. Of course, the situation was hardly normal.
“We’re almost there,” she panted, sprinting through a rough-hewn tunnel with a final surge. And then stopped, mouth agape, staring blankly.
The path ended there. After opening up into a large cavern, the tunnel simply lead to a dead end.
Her friends followed her in, but they already knew what to expect from her posture. “It’s all right, sugarcube,” Applejack murmured, clapping her on the shoulder. “You tried. Can’t ask anything more from you.”
Twilight shook away. “No! It has to be here. It has to be!” She began scouring the cavern’s walls, searching for something, anything.
Applejack started forward, but Rainbow stopped her, simply shaking her head.
Twilight felt at a large crystal in front of her, and then slumped. “I was so sure,” she whispered. “I thought...”
“Look on the bright side,” Rainbow said weakly. “We still have each other, right?”
Twilight chuckled mirthlessly. “Yeah,” she mumbled. “Start making your way back. I’ll...” she swallowed. “I need a moment.”
She heard them go back through the tunnel, although she knew they’d just be waiting on the other side. I let them down, she thought.
Sudden fury welled up within her, and she slammed a hoof down on the nearest crystal. The spirelike structure wobbled slightly, tapping the one next to it and producing a slight ring.
Twilight looked up. The crystal shouldn’t have done that. It was firmly secured to bedrock. Setting it to the slightest wobble would take more strength than she was capable of mustering, magic or no.
Instead of fading away, the ringing intensified, and began to sound from all around her as other crystals began to resonate. Loose stone throughout the cavern began to fall, dislodged by a deep, bass rumbling.
Twilight’s eyes widened. All of her care, and there was still one thing she’d missed. The birds. The birds had all vanished an hour before.
“Get to cover!” she screamed, bolting for the exit. “Move! Before–”
Whatever she had been about to say was lost as the earthquake struck with the force of a thousand sledgehammers. The ground rippled and bucked, throwing Twilight off her hooves and sending showers of stone down from the ceiling. Crystals broke from the walls and shattered around her in a hail of deadly shards. Belatedly, she threw a magical barrier around herself and another around her friends. Please hold, she thought to the ceiling. Please...
With a shriek like a living thing in pain, the ceiling gave way. An unthinkable mass of stone poured down between Twilight and her friends. Her shield, spared the brunt of it, held, but something unfathomably massive struck the other shield, and the magic was torn away from her.
The rumbling finally stopped.
Twilight opened her eyes, coughing on the dust that now floated through the air. “Girls!” she called between hacks.
Her only response was the clatter of a few more loose stones.
Twilight coughed again. “Girls!”
Nothing. Desperate, Twilight wove magic, and somehow sifted the dust out of the air, compressing it behind her in a large, even sphere. With the air now clear, her heart filled with despair. The far side of the cavern was completely blocked off by a wall of shattered stone and crystal.
Even if her friends had somehow survived, she was trapped.
----------
The night before, Shining Sole had been a cobbler. He had been very proud of his craft. While most others claiming to make “shoes” made do with simple crescents of iron hammered out on a forge by an uncaring smith, he created something far finer. His shoes, crafted using only the finest tools, were genuine works of art, tailored to match his customer’s exact needs. The peddler, who traveled far and wide with his cart of goods, received a sturdy, all-purpose shoe, with added support on the ankles and lined with padding. The acrobat received shoes made from an exceedingly light metal alloy, allowing them to be light on their hooves while still gaining all the advantages a well-made shoe brought.
One of those shoes stared him in the face now, an ornately made piece lined with silver filigree. It was ludicrously impractical and difficult to make, but then it wasn’t intended to be practical. It was intended to showcase his obvious talents, which was why he wore a full set of those shoes wherever he went.
With an effort, he lifted his head, staring around in stupefied horror at the scene around him. The earthquake – it had to be one of those, to have caused such damage – had collapsed storefronts and opened wide rents in the streets. The air was filled with dust and the screams of the injured.
Sole forced himself to his hooves, gasping at a flare of pain from his right foreleg. A glance down confirmed his suspicions: a ragged laceration up the side of the leg, choked with dust. A reddish patch on a sharp piece of nearby stone confirmed where it had come from.
I should be scared, he thought, wavering slightly. I should feel... something.
A slight sound from somewhere nearby got his attention. Without a thought, he climbed over a pile of rubble, and saw a dust-covered hoof protruding limply from under a slab of masonry. Sole quickly reached for magic through his horn and lifted the slab, grunting with the effort, and flung it to the side, sending up a cloud of dust. Even through it, he saw the pair of blue eyes staring at him in wonder. “I tried yelling,” the pegasus mare whispered, “but nopony heard. I thought...” Her voice broke.
“You’re safe now,” Sole said. “Can you stand?”
The mare shook her head. “My legs...”
Sole looked behind her, and spotted the problem. Her rear half was buried under what looked like half the top floor. It would take far more than what he could muster to move that without accidentally crushing her. Desperate, he looked around, seeing movement out on the streets. “Hey!” he yelled, waving a hoof. “There’s somepony in there! Help!”
The ponies outside jerked in surprise, and then ran in without hesitation. “Don’t worry,” he said to the trapped pegasus. “You’re going to be all right.”
They are heroes, Celestia’s last words echoed in his head. What are you?
I’m not a hero, he thought in reply. I’m just a cobbler.
----------
“...ilight! Can you hear me?”
Twilight froze, looking up, as a small shower of loose stones slid from near the top of the cavern. “Girls?”
“She’s all right!” Applejack’s voice called, followed by... cheering?
“What happened?” Twilight called. “I felt something hit the shield, and... I... I thought you’d...”
“You may have saved our lives,” Applejack replied. “That force field deflected the rock just enough that it missed us.”
Technically, a force field was something entirely different, but Twilight was too happy to correct Applejack on the distinction.
“Now just hold tight,” Applejack said. “We’re getting you out of there!”
Twilight froze as a tremor ran through the cave. Somewhere in the dark, a boulder crashed down. There’s not enough time, she realized. “No!” she cried. “Just go!”
“Twilight, this isn’t the time to be a hero!” Rainbow’s voice yelled. “It’ll just take us a couple minutes!”
“And it’ll only take a couple seconds for an aftershock to bury us all!” Twilight yelled back. “Go! I’ll find my own way out!”
On the other side of the wall, Rainbow punched one of the stones, face twisting in anger. “We’re not leaving her!”
“Rainbow,” Applejack said quietly. “She’s right. We have to get out now.”
“No!” Rainbow snapped, digging at the hole, throwing gravel to the side. “We’ll make it out together!” She threw her forelegs around a boulder and heaved. “Don’t just stand there!” she panted. “Help me!”
Applejack shook her head. If Rainbow did manage to dislodge the boulder, it would just send even larger rocks crashing down in its place. After another moment of struggling, the pegasus seemed to realize that and slumped.
“Twilight,” she called through the hole. “You... you’d better come out alive!”
Twilight swallowed and licked her lips. “I will,” she said. “Now get out before something else collapses!”
I said I’d never lie to them, she thought, her heart constricting. At least now they have a chance.
She cast a regretful glance around, and froze. There was a shadow in the cavern wall that she hadn’t noticed before. She tentatively walked toward it, bringing it into the circle of illumination.
When she saw it, she almost laughed. While the earthquake had blocked off one route, it had created another. A monstrous boulder had toppled out of the way, revealing a fissure leading deeper into the caves. It wasn’t much, but it was a way out.
Twilight raced to it and squeezed through, ignoring the sharp stones that dug into her skin. The passage was narrow; she could barely fit through. She tried lighting her horn to see how far it went, but the passage just extended into blackness.
Panic clawed its way into her mind. What if she got stuck? How long would it take her to finally succumb? Would it be thirst that did it, or fear?
Twilight thrust those thoughts down and wriggled past another spur of rock. Just keep moving. Keep moving, and everything will be fine. With an effort, she forced her way past another rock, scraping her flank in the process – and abruptly toppled out into an open space, losing her magic in surprise.
She scrambled back to her hooves and seized magic again, flooding the area with violet light. At first, she didn’t make sense of what she was seeing. Then she blinked as it dawned upon her.
Bookshelves. Hundreds of them. Most were toppled, spilling their contents over the floor, and others were shattered completely, but there was no mistaking what they were.
Twilight raced to the nearest one, peering at a book that had fallen open. The text, of course, was meaningless, but she recognized the sketch on the next page. It was a depiction of Discord, from a book well over fourteen centuries old. The only surviving copy of this book was kept in the Depository, shrouded with wards. Any other copies had been kept in the Old Archives, and had been lost in the earthquake. With a trembling hoof, she reached out to touch the page, and snapped it back when the ancient paper crumbled to dust.
This is it, Twilight thought, stunned. This is the old Archives.
“About time you came,” a voice said from behind her.
Twilight whirled, preparing a series of very nasty spells, and stopped when she saw who had spoken. A pale green unicorn stood there, the light from Twilight’s horn flashing off his cerulean eyes. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming,” he continued offhandedly. “Follow me. There is much to discuss.”
Twilight let the spells dissipate and hesitantly followed. “Who are you?” she said. “How did you get here?”
“I’ve always been here,” the pony replied. “At least, I’ve been here for long enough. As for who I am... well, there’s no point. You probably won’t recognize the name anyway.”
Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “Try me.”
“Very well,” the stallion said. “I used to be called Cognitus.”
Twilight laughed. “That’s good,” she said. “That’s very good.”
The stallion blinked in confusion. “I’m being serious,” he said dryly.
“You can’t be!” Twilight replied. “Cognitus died six hundred years ago! Celestia found his body!”
The stallion’s slight smile faded. “Oh.” He swallowed, looking away.
Twilight blinked, suddenly realizing something. The stallion’s voice didn’t echo, despite the open space around them. And, now that she noticed, the light from her horn didn’t quite catch him right. She took a step forward, extending a hoof. The stallion shied away, casting a wary eye at her. “What are you doing?”
Without a response, Twilight reached out and touched the stallion’s chest. Or tried to. Her hoof went straight through, as if there was nothing there. “What are you?” she asked, unable to disguise her shock. “You can’t be a ghost, obviously. There’s no proof that those exist. Maybe an old, self-sustaining spell that was part of the original library? Still, it’s a level of sophistication I’ve never–”
The stallion cut her off. “I am… or was… an ordinary pony. What you see before you is a false projection onto your visual and auditory cortexes. Similar to an illusion, but a little more refined, if I do say so myself.”
Twilight shook her head. “That doesn’t make any sense. If you’re an illusion–”
“False audio-visual projection,” the stallion corrected.
Scowling, Twilight went on. “ – there still has to be somepony here sustaining it. And it still doesn’t explain who that is or how they got here in the first place.”
The stallion sighed. “I could waste breath by telling you who I am again, but I have a feeling that’s not good enough for you. Come with me, then. You want to know who’s sustaining this projection? I’ll show you.”
Hesitantly, Twilight followed. Whoever this pony was, he was obviously mad. Not only did he insist that he was a pony six centuries dead, he spoke as if he remembered the period after he’d died. Insanity! Pure raving insanity.
Only curiosity drove her forward. That was all. She didn’t believe his preposterous claims for a second! Still, the familiarity with which he’d spoken of Celestia…
The illusion stopped beside a toppled bookshelf no different from the rest, indicating a nondescript tome lying on the floor. “That’s the one projecting this,” he said.
“A book,” Twilight said dryly.
“A book,” the illusion agreed. “Or rather a consciousness imprisoned in a book.”
Twilight bent down and examined the book, gently probing it with magic. “You know what I think?” she asked. “I think you’ve been lying to me this entire time. Because I can’t sense any kind of magic in this book. Now, I came here to investigate some kind of spell affecting everyone I know, and if you can’t help me, then I’d really appreciate it if you left me alone.”
“How long has it been since you stopped being able to read?” the stallion asked.
Twilight stiffened. “How do you know that?”
“Look deeper,” he replied. “The spell’s really quite subtle. Don’t look at the substance of the book. Look at what it represents.”
Clumsily, mind still reeling, Twilight complied, worming her awareness deeper into the book on the floor before her. And then she met it. A vast, intricate web of magic, chaining something in place. The bindings were oddly formed, though, and not in a logical pattern. It didn’t seem like a binding so much as... something that included. Confusing as that might be, it was the only meaning Twilight could wrest out of the weaves.
Twilight looked up, meeting the illusion’s eyes. “How?” she croaked. “This spell… it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen!”
“I wanted it to be a way to literally immerse yourself in a book,” the illusion said. “The mechanism of reading is really quite inefficient, you know. The data has to be interpreted, sorted, and re-interpreted several times before its meaning can be distilled. With this spell, I wanted to remove those clumsy in-between steps. Your only limit would be how quickly you could process the raw information.”
“And instead, it trapped you,” Twilight said quietly. “You weren’t lying. You really are Cognitus!”
Cognitus smiled weakly. “To think that all I wanted was to read a book.”
Another flash of understanding went through Twilight’s mind. “You!” she gasped. “You’re the one behind the reading spell!”
Cognitus’ expression morphed into terror. “Listen,” he said. “I did it out of desperation! I needed some way to get your attention. It was the only way!”
“Get my attention?” Twilight growled, pulling magic through her horn. It blazed around her head in a corona of power. “You erased my ability to read to get my attention?!”
“Please, hear me out,” Cognitus begged.
“Give me one good reason not to blast you into oblivion,” Twilight snarled.
An unexpected grin appeared on Cognitus’ face. “You still haven’t figured it out, have you? That’s exactly what I want!”
Twilight frowned. “You want me to destroy you,” she said evenly.
“What, did you think I wanted to be freed? Even if my body had somehow been preserved, the connections between it and me have been cut.” Cognitus shook his head. “I’ve spent six centuries in the dark, trying to find a way out. If there was one, I’d have found it. I just want… peace. Loose my bindings, and I’ll fade away.”
“And your spell with you?” Twilight asked.
Cognitus winced. “Ah,” he said. “That. The spell… is a little more permanent.”
“WHAT?”
“My powers are limited here,” Cognitus explained coolly. Whatever he feared Twilight might have done, he obviously didn’t worry about it any more. “Too much interference from the crystals. So I had to improvise.”
“What did you do?” Twilight growled. What did he mean, permanent? She’d come all this way for nothing?
“The spell was structured as a virus,” Cognitus explained. “After it finds a host, it propagates itself, and goes to infect others. It’s a simple inhibition of the language centers.” He grimaced. “I had intended for you to find me while it was still reversible. It was intended to infect you first, manifest symptoms, and then burn itself out. But I seem to have designed it too well.”
“You keep referring to me specifically,” Twilight asked, mind racing to think of a cure. “Why me?”
“Your connection with books,” Cognitus said simply. “When a pony such as yourself develops such an affinity for the written word, subtle changes occur in the mind, resulting in–”
“So my mind was easier to access, right?” Twilight snapped, venom dripping from her words. “I was your initial host. Your… disease vector. You couldn’t have just… I don’t know. Told me, maybe? ‘Hey, I’m trapped in a book in the Old Archives. Could you come along and save me?’”
“Sarcasm ill becomes you,” Cognitus muttered. “Truthfully, I thought you were more intelligent than this. The crystals’ magical interference prevents me from broadcasting anything more than suggestions. I tried that, but you proved either too dense or too stubborn to understand them!”
The dreams, Twilight thought. And the books, that one night.
“So now you understand,” Cognitus snapped. “Finally. My patience was wearing thin. Now you know that this could all have been prevented had you acted sooner.”
“I thought you said the spell was permanent?” Twilight shot back.
“In this state, yes,” Cognitus spat. “Foolish girl. Any self-respecting scholar should know that all processes are reversible. It may work more easily one way than the other, but it applies to everything. It would be a simple matter of simultaneously removing the influence from every afflicted mind. It would have been simple, had you moved quicker. Now, it’s too widely spread. Unless you have one of the Elements of Harmony in that saddlebag of yours, you’re sunk.”
Twilight blinked. “You need one of the Elements,” she said flatly.
Cognitus snorted. “Hopeless, I know. The one thing that might give me a chance to put all this right has been lost for–”
Twilight’s tiara landed on the ground in front of him, cutting off his words. Cognitus’ eyes bulged, and he bent down to stare at it. “Is this…”
“The Element of Magic? Yes.” Twilight smiled. “Now. What were you saying about the Elements?”
“How did you get this?” Cognitus whispered. “These were thought to be lost after the rise of Nightmare Moon!”
“I found them at her fall,” Twilight said. “Now, what were you saying?”
“There’s a slim chance,” Cognitus muttered. “Very slim. May not work at all, in fact. Dear stars, a chance to work with one of the Elements! The things I could do with access to one of these!”
“Do you have a solution or not?” Twilight growled.
“I may,” Cognitus replied, looking over the Element and lighting his horn, although no weaves seemed to come from him. He seemed to merely be probing it. “Forgive me. It helps to think aloud. You see, I’m part of a school of thought that believes the Elements don’t actually have any latent power. They instead serve as focal points for power from every sentient creature in the world. Unicorn, earth pony, non-equine… everything. The power is drawn from the qualities that the Elements symbolize. The Element wielders, while excellent examples of those traits, are nothing much more than channels. You don’t channel power through the Element so much as it channels through you.”
Twilight scowled. Normally this sort of theory would be fascinating, but her well of patience had nearly run dry. “Get to the point.”
“I was almost there,” Cognitus replied peevishly. “Remember, all processes, both natural and unnatural, can be reversed. The same applies to the Elements. If I’m correct and they draw power from every sentient creature…”
“… then you can direct power through them into everyone,” Twilight finished, eyes widening at the implications. If Nightmare Moon or Discord had gotten their hooves on them…
“Now you understand,” Cognitus said. “That’s the chance I’m speaking of. The only catch is that I have to go with it.”
Twilight frowned. “What?”
Cognitus snorted impatiently. “I have to be freed so I can control the spell!” he snapped. “When it’s being spread among so many minds, a spell might unravel completely, or worse, fall into something completely different. If you truly want this to succeed, you need to trust me.”
Trust. Such a simple thing. Twilight trusted her friends, and her mentor. But she didn’t trust the snobbish scholar in front of her one bit.
Cognitus sighed, seeing the look on Twilight’s face. “And here we are, right back where we started,” he grumbled. “Honestly, you mares are all the same. Cast one little spell on them and they won’t give you the time of day.”
Twilight almost laughed. There was no way out of it. And her last hope was an overbearing, pedantic stallion who was at the moment bemoaning the qualities of mares. Stallions are all the same, she thought.
Trust. Cognitus had cast the spell and brought her to the library out of desperation. She had gone seeking him for the same reason. If you don’t have trust, what do you have?
“What do I need to do?” she asked quietly.
Cognitus gave her a blank look. “What?”
“Your plan. What do I need to do to make it work?” She quashed the temptation to add a disparaging comment about the thickness of his skull.
Cognitus blinked, his mouth flapping. “Um… I can honestly say I didn’t expect that.”
Twilight raised an eyebrow, prompting Cognitus to clear his throat and examine the Element. “Well,” he said. “First, I need you to put yourself right on the edge of channeling through your Element. Don’t actually channel through it, mind. It’s a difficult balance to obtain, and it may take some time before you can…”
“Like this?” Twilight asked, putting herself on the edge. It was a strange sensation, with the Element’s magic beckoning just outside her reach.
Cognitus frowned at her for a second, and then chuckled to himself. “Element of Magic indeed,” he muttered. “Now, hold still. This will only take a moment.” With that, weaves of magic began to erupt from his horn… or was it from the book? There was an odd blurring between the two that made Twilight ill to look at.
She quickly averted her eyes, but not before glimpsing something odd. Why were there weaves for including in that spell? Why didn’t I put more time into researching mental magics? she thought. Would’ve been useful here.
“Done,” Cognitus said, and several things happened at once. She detected a wild surge of magic, her Element sent out a blinding pulse of light, and a sudden presence bloomed in her head.
“What did you–“ Twilight started, and stopped when she suddenly lost all feeling in her mouth, and a moment later her entire body. Or maybe that was an inaccurate way to describe it. She could still feel everything, but she couldn’t do anything with it.
Calm down, a voice in her head said. I didn’t tell you about this part because I knew how you’d react to it. To feed power through the Element, I need to be linked to it, and I don’t exactly fit that description. You, on the other hoof, do.
And you had to force yourself into my head? Twilight thought back furiously. I could have done it, you know! Do you even know how dangerous this kind of thing is?
Of course I do, Cognitus replied. But allowing you to perform the spell would be too risky. You don’t know what you’re doing. You might have made a mistake somewhere.
Twilight’s leg suddenly extended, and she began wobbling around the shelf in a drunken stagger. Just getting a feel for the connections, Cognitus reassured her. Relax and let me handle this.
So do it already!
Cognitus didn’t respond, but she felt a surge of magic pour into her through the Element. Twilight shivered, or at least tried to. She was a spectator in her own body.
Cognitus literally had her in his hooves.
----------
Out of breath, Applejack clawed her way out of the caves and hauled herself up onto a lip of rock. Between gasps, she couldn’t help but bark a laugh of elation. “We made it!” she said. “We actually made it!”
She glanced back at Rarity, who was in the process of picking her way up the slope. “And you said the entrance mighta collapsed.”
“I said might, Applejack,” Rarity replied, delicately hopping a little higher up the rocky slope. “You were the one being pessimistic.”
Her mood sobered. “Do you think Twilight got out?”
“You know Twilight,” Rainbow replied, rocketing out of the cave. “It takes way more than a collapse to knock her out of commission!” Her drawn face betrayed her worry, though.
“She’ll make it,” Applejack said with renewed determination. “Ah can feel it.” She frowned. “Ah actually do feel something.”
Rarity glanced down, and blinked. “The Elements!” she exclaimed.
The gems set in the necklaces all glowed with a dim light. They didn’t seem to be doing anything, but they seemed… ready. The air around them crackled with anticipation.
“It doesn’t feel right,” Rainbow muttered, rubbing at hers. “Like it’s… not Twilight. I mean, it is, but it isn’t.”
Applejack cast a worried glance down into the cave. Consarn it, Twi. What’re you doing?
----------
What’re you waiting for? Twilight thought frantically. Magic crackled through the air around them, every drop Twilight could draw, but Cognitus did nothing with it.
Such power, Cognitus thought, as if she wasn’t there at all. The things I could do with this…
Cognitus?
I can take over, he thought with something like wonder. It would be easy. I can see how to do it. I could give myself another chance!
A chill ran through Twilight. Cognitus? Please. What about the spell?
I can find another way around it. Now I can see why I brought you here. I didn’t need an executioner. I needed a vessel.
The chill became terror. Then what? Twilight thought frantically. Will you go and pass yourself off as me? You can’t fool everyone! Just think about what you’re doing!
Cognitus paused. It wasn’t much, but it was something. You won’t be known as Cognitus, she thought, pressing her advantage. You wouldn’t even be given a name. You’ll just be the thing that killed Twilight Sparkle.
Then I will make them know me as Cognitus! the voice roared. The world chose to forget me once. I will not allow it to happen again!
I’ll tell them! Twilight thought in desperation. If you fix this, I’ll tell them everything! My friends, Princess Celestia, anyone who will listen! They’ll know who to thank.
… They would never believe you. They’d think you’d gone mad.
Do you really think that? Twilight replied. Then, she found she really could do something. There was one thing she still had control over.
She bared herself to him. All her memories, all the joy she’d felt since coming to Ponyville and meeting her friends. Her respect and admiration to Princess Celestia, her dreams and aspirations, even the deep-seated love she felt for her friends. All of it, she showed him. Can you look at this, she thought, and tell me that they won’t believe me?
There was a long pause from Cognitus. Friends, he finally thought. It’s been a long time since… I had a friend. Did it really feel like that?
The memories continued on. Convincing Applejack to accept help with the fields, Pinkie’s birthday party, fighting with her friends behind her against the Changelings… until it finally reached the present. Her aching worry for her friends, who might be lost in the caves for all she knew, her concern for Celestia and the rest of Canterlot’s population, who must surely have felt the earthquake just as hard as she had… and the numbing loss of her ability to read.
At that, Cognitus withdrew with an almost palpable horror. It… it never occurred to me just what I was doing, he thought. It had lost all meaning for me. I… I… merciful heavens, what have I done?!
The magic swirled around her, gaining strength and intensity. It grew wild, uncontrollable. It was a type of magic that would destroy them both if unleashed. What have I done? Cognitus wailed again.
Listen to me! Twilight howled. You made a mistake! Don’t make a bigger one now!
The magic surged on unabated. Tell them I didn’t mean to, Cognitus finally whispered. Tell them… just tell them.
I will, Twilight said. I promise.
With a sound like a thunderclap, the magic surged inward, and everything went black.
----------
“Come on!” Shining Sole called, magic sparking around his horn. “We’ve almost got it!”
With a hideous grinding of stone on stone, a huge slab of masonry, lifted by the magic of a dozen unicorns, shifted off the pile of rubble and floated to the side. Sole let it crash to the ground and slumped, sweat streaming down his face. He’d been leading the effort to excavate the Princess’ body for the good part of an hour now. Emboldened by his example, bands of ponies scoured the ruins of Canterlot for survivors.
He looked sadly at the pile of rubble in front of him, barely diminished despite his efforts and those of a hundred other ponies. Nothing could have survived that.
Now that the half-ton slab was out of the way, a group of earth ponies swarmed over the side of the pile, digging through and removing rocks too small for magic to be justified. A mason flitted among them, pointing out which rocks to remove to minimize collapse.
Sole left them to it and gratefully accepted a drink of water from a earth pony filly burdened with a pair of waterskins. He was used to prolonged magical output from working his forge, but this was beginning to prove more than he could handle.
One of the unicorns beside him suddenly frowned. “Anyone else feel that?” she said, glancing around. A couple of the stallions glanced at her in confusion, but Sole felt it too. Magic, and lots of it, coming from somewhere underground.
“Don’t worry about it,” Sole said. “Probably just resonance from the crystals.”
The mare didn’t seem quite convinced, but she turned her attention back to the pile. Sole glanced up at the sun, realizing with some shock that only about an hour had passed since the earthquake. So little time, he thought. It feels like it’s been much longer.
Just like that, something changed in his head. Sole blinked, and looked around, noticing that everypony around him was experiencing something similar. The ponies on the mound stopped, blinking at each other in confusion. “What just happened?” one said.
“Get me something to read,” Sole said, a sudden certainty blossoming within him. “A sign, a brochure, anything!”
The filly with the waterskins frowned, but scampered off anyway. When a grown-up said something in that kind of voice, it was best to do exactly what they said.
Sole searched the square for a surviving sign, something with words printed on it. Following his example, others were doing the same, save those on the mound, who were digging with a renewed fervor. Finally, Sole’s eyes alighted on a store’s sign partially buried in shattered masonry. Best pies in town! the exposed corner proclaimed.
I can read, Sole thought. Just then, the filly appeared again, a dusty novel clutched in her mouth. Sole smiled warmly at her and seized the book in magic, opening it to a random page.
Just a name, the passage read. Would a rose by any other name smell as sweet?
Would it indeed, Sole thought happily.
“I can read again!” one of the other unicorns shouted, scanning the text on the buried sign again. “I don’t know how it happened, but… I can read!”
One of the earth ponies on the mound suddenly cried out, dropping a rock. “She’s alive!” he yelled. “The Princess is alive!”
Ponies swarmed over the mound, digging frantically, but before they arrived, Sole saw what the other earth pony had seen: a few rocks, enveloped in a golden aura. He smiled upon seeing those. This truly was a day of miracles.
----------
Twilight’s awareness returned slowly. Yet even as the blackness retreated from her sight, one phrase kept going through her head. I’m not dead.
For a moment, she hadn’t been sure if Cognitus would do what he was supposed to. Those last moments had been so confused. He’d lashed out with her magic, severing the spell tying him to the book, and then directing a surge of power back into her. It was then that she’d blacked out.
There was only one way to be sure. She forced herself to her hooves and scrambled to where Cognitus’ book lay on the floor, untouched by time as a result of the wards. Without using magic, she opened it to a random page and scanned the passage.
A wide smile spread across her face as the words registered. Cognitus, you wonderful, wonderful pony, you did it!
That still didn’t eliminate the issue on how she was to get out of there, though. She was just about to start searching when she felt something. Or rather, didn’t feel something. The magical interference from the omnipresent crystals had vanished.
Twilight channeled magic through her horn, lighting up the area, and smiled. The crystals surrounding the area were lying in shattered heaps, broken by precise whips of power. Yet another gift from that pony.
She wove the spell for teleportation, but then stopped. She looked around the forgotten library, at all the lost knowledge contained within. The library was almost legendary for those few scholars who knew about it. Lost, nearly forgotten to history, conceivably preserved in the mines beneath Canterlot. It was a figure of romance and mystery, sought after but always just out of reach. Over twenty thousand irreplaceable works, lost to time.
And here it was, an irretrievable ruin. The mystery was gone. Nothing remained, save ancient pages rapidly crumbling to dust. Gone, just like one of the finest minds of his era.
Twilight turned away, taking a deep breath and completing the weave. Save what you can, she told herself. It's all you can do.
Violet light flashed through the cavern, and it was again plunged into silent darkness.
----------
One week later…
The sound of a quill scratching on parchment filled the study. It was lit by only a couple candles, burned low by the passage of hours. The moon was well into the sky, and yet the quill scratched on.
Finally, Twilight put down the parchment and fitted the cap back onto her ink bottle, blowing gently on what she had written to dry it. That done, a violet aura surrounded the page, and it floated through the air to land on a pile of several dozen others, all covered in Twilight’s precise scrawl.
Twilight leaned back, muscles protesting after spending so long in one spot. But she smiled in satisfaction nonetheless. Finally, it was done.
She felt a sudden presence behind her, and turned to face her mentor. “Good evening, Princess.”
Celestia glanced at a wall clock. “Technically, it’s morning.”
Twilight nodded at the bandages that still wrapped her mentor’s legs and chest. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better than a few days ago,” Celestia replied. “I was lucky. If the ponies that dug me out are to be believed, if I’d reacted a hair later I would have been crushed.”
“Holding that much weight above you with magic is still impressive,” Twilight replied. Her cheeks coloured. “I mean, not as impressive as raising the sun, but…”
“I get your point, Twilight,” Celestia said.
“How are Sarissa and Brightsteel?”
“As argumentative as ever. The two were completely unhurt by the collapse, it turns out, but in fact injured themselves while trying to dig me out.” The Princess smiled. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they were still arguing over whose fault it was from their hospital beds.”
Silence reigned in the study before Celestia indicated the pile of paper with a nod. “You’ve been hard at work, I see.”
“I’ve been… recounting what happened,” Twilight explained. “As best as I can. Shining Sole especially was hard to track down.”
“I held his award ceremony today. That pony’s actions both directly and indirectly saved nearly three hundred lives. The entire time, he kept insisting he wasn’t a hero.”
“He told me that, too,” Twilight replied, making a note on one of the pages.
“You will have to take full credit, you know,” Celestia said. “All this about Cognitus… they’ll never believe you. Say it was a residual spell that was accidentally triggered, or something to that effect.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “I still can’t believe that after all this time…”
“Let it go,” Twilight replied. “There’s no way you could have known.” Her expression hardened. “And don’t try to distract me. I’m telling the truth, and I’m not changing it.”
Celestia grimaced. “It was worth a try. In any case, you know I can’t allow you to publish that.”
“I know,” Twilight replied, tapping the stack of pages on the table to straighten them out.
“You’re going to do it anyway,” Celestia said. It wasn’t a question, merely a statement.
Twilight looked up, meeting Celestia’s eyes. “I have to,” she said. “I made a promise.”
Celestia hesitated before speaking. “Officially, I have no knowledge of this,” she said. “This will have been published without my permission, and I will condemn it as unlawful. Naturally, it will be extremely popular as a result. For your sake, I hope you publish under a pseudonym.”
“I’ve got that covered,” Twilight replied, the corner of her mouth quirking upwards. “And unofficially?”
The Princess smiled. “I’m proud of you, Twilight. I always will be.”
Twilight frowned. “That wasn’t another test, was it?”
“I’ll leave that for you to decide,” Celestia replied, a hint of laughter in her voice.
She turned to go. “Princess,” Twilight said.
Celestia turned. “Yes?”
Twilight proffered the book she’d stolen from the Depository what seemed like years ago. “You never asked to have this back.”
Celestia nodded. “You’re right,” she said. “I didn’t.” A moment later, she was gone in a flash of light.
Twilight stared at the spot she’d occupied for a moment, and finally shook her head. No matter how well she may think she knew the Princess, she’d never fully understand her.
She turned back to the pile of papers. To the side was a note from one of Canterlot’s major publishers, agreeing to unconditionally put whatever she gave them into print. It had required calling in every favour Twilight was owed, but then again, they seemed uncharacteristically generous after having their literacy restored.
Don’t worry, Twilight thought. I’ll tell your story. I won’t let you be forgotten again.
Just before unleashing the magic, Cognitus had said one last thing to her. I think, he had said, that in a different time, in different circumstances… we might have been friends.
We might have, she thought, blowing out the candles. We might have indeed.