Composure

by Varanus

Chapter 7 - Catalyst

Numbers floated before Twilight, blocks of an unintelligible language set upon thick, soot-stained paper. She set the ream aside and picked up one of many other similar stacks on the makeshift desk before her. She blinked, hard, and massaged her temple, attempting to jar her mind back into focus. At her hoof lay a doughnut, ignored beyond an initial polite nibble after the snack was gifted to her by a scientist who had arrived late. He had stumbled into the ruins with two-dozen of Pony Joe’s best balanced on his back, and had proceeded to pass them around as a ‘morale boost’.

‘Thoughtful, though kind of inappropriate considering the circumstances,’ Twilight mused as she poked the now cold pastry, her eyes sliding momentarily over to the conspicuous black tarp marking the spot where Celestia…

Her eyes snapped back to the readings. They were all that had survived the disaster, but were nevertheless more than enough for her, more than she had even expected. Yet, no matter how hard she stared, the numbers just crowded around her in a jumbled mess. Never before had numbers eluded her so – she always had seen the connections, the logic in how each number related to the next, and so to their significance and impact in the world. She could only see snippets here. She knew the equations she needed to apply, all the data was dancing in front of her, but still the question remained: If f(x) = x.(x + n)!, for what value of x does everything explode?

‘Face it. Your head’s just not in the game today,’ Twilight grumbled mentally, absently levitating the abandoned doughnut to her mouth.

Instead of the sweetness she sought, there was only the bitter taste of ash.

She stopped chewing, glanced at the doughnut, and saw it had collected a thick layer of dust and soot on its glaze. Twilight blanched. “Eugh!” she exclaimed, her tongue suddenly recoiling from the pastry in her mouth as she spat the mush out. “Gross, gross, gross, gross…”

“Uh, Miss Sparkle?”

Twilight froze and looked in the direction of the voice to see Dusty Scroll hesitating a few paces away. Twilight chucked in embarrassment. “Y-yes?” she asked, speaking around the awful taste in her mouth.

“We, uh, found some of the gems…” He was frowning slightly. Behind him, she could see several of the other scientists crowded around the twisted remains of the array, fidgeting in anxiety. “It’s a bit strange.”

Twilight straightened up and tossed the ruined doughnut over her shoulder. Quickly swiping the inside of her mouth with her tongue to banish the foul taste, she nodded and smiled. “Alright, let’s take a look.”

She quickly trotted the short distance from her makeshift desk to the array, pushing past the gaggle of ponies to stand at the husk of her failed project. Rubble and glass was piled up around them, swept aside by a hard day of careful excavation. The walkways and metal platforms had all been moved aside, leaving just a twisted spire resting, fallen, in the now dry pool below. Normally it would have been nothing for Twilight alone to have removed in a few minutes, but considering what had happened, they had all been forced to work as lightly and as carefully as possible in uncovering the remains of the array.
Judging by the nervous air of her team, that caution had paid off. “What have you found?” Twilight called down to the few ponies lingering in the empty pool. “Are the crystals still active?”

One of the pegasi, Cloudchaser, looked up at her. “I don’t think so, but it’s nothing I’ve ever seen before.” She stepped aside to reveal what the fuss was about – the remains of the array’s Resonance crystals.

Twilight froze, stomach lurching hard at the sight.

“See what I mean by ‘strange’?” Dusty rubbed his chin with his hoof. “They’re completely discoloured from what I remember. Maybe they were burnt, somehow, in the explosion? But –”

Twilight didn’t register his words, her eyes glued to the sight. Resting at the bottom of the dry pool were chunks of crystal – some were mere fragments, others as big as an apple. One was nearly the size of a pony’s head, though far more angular.

And all of them, without exception, were as dark as obsidian.

“Everyone, out of the pool,” Twilight managed to muster past a frozen jaw. The ponies below hesitated, caught off-guard by her strained tone. “Out of the pool!” she ordered, this time panicked, her horn glowing. Cloudchaser, to her credit, snapped to attention and grabbed her closest teammate, propelling both out of the pool in one wingbeat. The remaining few ponies found themselves caught in Twilight’s telekinetic grip and wrenched bodily out before they themselves could react.

“Twi-!” Dusty began to exclaim, but Twilight vanished in a clap of magic, reappearing down below before the crystals.

“Everypony, keep clear! If this is what I think it is…” Twilight lifted the largest crystal in her magical grip, turning it around until she could see her stricken face in its reflection.

Fear. Solid fear. She could feel it, seeping into her mind even with just the slightest touch of her magic cradling it, quickening her heartbeat, strangling her lungs…

Twilight forced a shaky breath, every inch of her body shuddering, suddenly soaked in a cold sweat. She felt like she had discovered Celestia’s broken body all over again.

The crystal fell from her grip, hitting the ground with a dull clunk, and in her mind’s frenzied eye, she could almost see the shadowy specter wrap around the crystal, fangs gnashing, horn red, eyes mere slits of emerald malaise.

She stepped back, and back, and back, until she felt her rear bump against the end of the pool. A rosy flash of light brought her back among her fellow scientists, and suddenly she was swarmed with an unintelligible gaggle of questions. What was that are you okay are we in danger could there be corruption what were you thinking do you need air what was that?

“Nobody go near any of these crystals,” she croaked, her throat dry. Swallowing, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hoof. Her heartbeat had slowed down to something like normal, and, amazingly enough, she hadn’t shed any tears in the moment that the fear had gripped her. ‘Stupid to pick it up. Stupid! Your emotions are all over the place as it is, you shouldn’t be messing around with… that!’

“If anypony has some barrier spells, now would be a great time to use one.” She turned and began to beckon with a hoof, mind racing. “We need to establish a perimeter and block all access to those crystals until we can move them to a secure location. I’ll speak to Celestia, or Princess Luna, about getting some proper equipment to preserve it, but –”

“What was that!?” Cloudchaser demanded, stomping a hoof out of frustration and not a little fear.

Twilight took a breath. “It’s dark magic,” she confessed, staring once more at her ruined array, but seeing it in a far more sombre light. “Something corrupted the experiment.”

The sun was low and the air was still around Celestia’s tower when a snap-flash of rose magic brought Twilight before its stone doors. She pushed them open and trotted quickly inside, her mind buzzing as she searched for some clue, either to answer the mystery of the black crystal or to spot a plot in motion.

She had left the laboratory in lock-down, of course, putting it in the care of a half a dozen guards and thrice as many sealing spells and wards – not that it helped reassure her. The fact remained that her experiment had been corrupted from a system built on the principle of Harmony into something that produced darkness and fear. As she ran, two possible explanations jumped up and crowded her thoughts – was it sabotage, or a normal part of the process?

Twilight didn’t like the implications of either possibility. If it had been sabotaged, then that meant that somepony had access to her research materials and intimately knew the ins and outs of her research, so much so that they had been able to hide their plot under Twilight’s very nose. They… they were probably part of the team itself! Twilight didn’t want to doubt the ponies that she had brought together herself, but after the invasion of the changelings so many years ago, she couldn’t rule the possibility out.

On the other hoof, if it was a normal part of the phenomenon, then all her work and all her hopes amounted to a machine – no, a process that twisted harmony and generated darkness and fear. Nothing short of a mockery of everything she had worked toward, everything she believed in.

She didn’t know what to do. But, old habits die hard. When in doubt… consult her mentor.

She raced up the winding stairs of the tower, towards the only surety in the midst of this confusion. She needed to tell Celestia about this, immediately. Celestia would know what to do.

So focused she was on the crisis, she failed to notice how silent Celestia’s tower was. Her wits were so frayed, she didn’t even hear the bark of a lone guardsman calling out to her as she barreled past him, arriving at the top of the stairs and galloping for the doors of the chamber.

She skidded to a halt in front of them and raised her hoof, knocking it with staccato panic. She didn’t wait for a reply, pushing them open with words already spilling from her mouth. “Celestia, something’s gone horribly—!”

Her voice dried up in her mouth. “Wrong…” she managed to breathe out as the air was stolen from her lungs.

The room was empty, and in disarray. Twilight walked inside in a daze, not quite processing the sight before her.
The bedsheets were pulled half off the bed, and the great duvet torn, bleeding white feathers across the ground and around her hooves. Celestia’s personal bookshelf was knocked over, the precious scrolls and penny paperbacks alike strewn about it. The trail of destruction led Twilight to the elegant doors to the balcony, both of which now were blasted off their hinges, their glass panes all shattered into big, jagged pieces littered across the floor.

Twilight then looked up, and saw the sky painted a bloody red and bruised purple. Equestria far below looked peaceful as it had ever been, but slowly the truth was sinking into Twilight. The world had gone mad.

“Twilight Sparkle?” a voice spoke up.

Twilight whirled about-face and saw a guard lingering at the door, as if unwilling to go any further. “What happened here?” Twilight demanded, rushing up to him, eyes wide and disbelieving.

“Princess Luna would like to speak with you,” he said instead of answering, not quite meeting her eyes.

Twilight blankly stared at him, his words slipping away from her before she could make sense of them. “Where… where is she?” she asked.

“Princess Luna is occupied in her study. She has requested that we direct you to an ancillary meeting room the moment you –”

“Not Luna,” Twilight choked. “Where’s Celestia?” The guard hesitated. A bastion inside Twilight, her last safeguard, cracked. “Where is she?!”

The guard swallowed, his eyes still averted. “Miss Sparkle, at one in the afternoon today, Princess Luna visited these chambers to find Princess Celestia had vanished…”

The guard kept speaking, but Twilight was deaf to his account.

Celestia was gone. The mad world began to spin, gravity breaking free now that sanity was forfeit. Twilight fell onto her hindquarters, her head light and dancing and her blood roaring in her ears and long steel pins digging into her stomach and Celestia was gone.

A realization formed in the forefront of her brain, a steady rock in her stormy confusion. “She… one o'clock?”

The guard hesitated. “Yes, that is when Princess Luna…”

“She knew.” Twilight's eyes grew firm, fury latching onto the rock like a white-hot anchor. “Luna’s in her study?” she asked the guard, whose nod was more of a knee-jerk than a reply.

“Right.” Twilight’s horn flared, blinding bright, and with a thunderclap and a flash of rose lightning, she disappeared.

Eyes and ears clear and unaffected by the explosion of rose light, Twilight stepped out of her spell and into Princess Luna’s study. She looked towards the grand mahogany desk that dominated one of the walls, only to find it empty, and so whirled her head around in search for the princess.

“Ah,” Luna’s voice came, the gasp the evidence of only a dull surprise at the sudden intrusion.

Twilight turned to see Luna standing beside the bay windows of her office, the darkness of her coat offset by the bruised sunset at her back. Her face was masked in the stark shadows, and only her wide eyes could be seen, frozen in a startled, wary look, an old dam suddenly spotting a younger, silky cat wandering into her domain.

Then the moment was gone.

Beside her were two officers of her night guard, who bristled at Twilight’s trespass. However, a shake of Luna's head calmed them. Midnight-blue wings snapped closed, and the princess of the night turned to face her, the phantom in her eyes swallowed whole. “Well met, Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight couldn't restrain her look of frank disbelief. “'Well met'? Really?” she asked, waving her hoof in a vague indication of 'out there'. “Do you even know what's going on?”

Luna was silent, holding Twilight in an inscrutable gaze. Twilight felt her anxiety begin to bubble over, a demand rising to her lips for whatever knowledge the princess possessed, but before it could be voiced, Luna seemingly came to a decision. “Leave us,” she said.

Twilight hesitated, leaning back an inch as the guards stood at attention. However, instead of advancing on her, they stepped back. “Yes, my Lady,” they said in unison, and bowed, sparing Twilight only a cautioning glare before they turned and stepped out of the room through the open bay windows. Twilight caught a glimpse of their dark, webbed wings extending against the red sky as they dived off the balcony, out of view, before she turned her attention back squarely on the princess of the night before her.

“Celestia…” Twilight sounded her words out carefully, restraining herself. “She’s missing.”

“Princess Celestia,” Luna corrected.

Jarred, Twilight gaped at her. “W-what?”

“She is Princess Celestia,” Luna repeated, holding her in a cold glare. “To her subjects.”

As if dunked into a frozen pool, Twilight struggled to claw through the princess' correction. “She—”

“We are surprised at such familiarity from you. Normally, you are flawlessly formal. Regardless, the situation is under control. We are aware of her disappearance.” Luna’s expression didn’t budge an inch from the dull glare she wore. “What of it?”

“'What of it?'” Twilight gaped, gone beyond disbelief and into the borders of incomprehension. For a moment, she felt the world spin again, tearing from its mooring in reality. Part of her wondered, hoped even, on the possibility that Luna simply failed to realize the seriousness of the situation. “Princess, your sister is gone, she's been gone for hours, isn't that—?”

The princess was cold stone, unmoving and unmoved. “Twilight, We allow this audience under the presumption that if you had seen fit to storm into our sanctum unannounced, it would have been to bear fresh knowledge. Have you even a whit of any relevant news at all?”

“No, I – I just found out, nobody told me she—! L—Princess, she's gone! Her room is destroyed, what if she was kidnapped?!” Twilight sputtered. A stray thought took hold. “Did... did you speak to her before she— did she tell you anything, tell you why?”

“No, she did not,” Luna replied, dashing that flicker of hope as she turned away, pacing towards her desk. “We found her chambers in disarray, 'tis true, and have not heard from her since. However...” She paused, and looked over her shoulder. “Such panic is pointless. She left under her own power, that much is certain, so We have chosen to respond with discretion. The situation is under control.”

“Control? So why haven’t you done anything?” Twilight demanded, grinding her hoof into the carpet.

Luna paused at her desk, and glanced over her shoulder at the unicorn with an eyebrow raised, a note of scorn emerging from her impassive air. “Of course We have taken action. Ordering heralds to announce the news in the square, however, is counterproductive.” She raised her chin and sat before her desk, turning her attention to a small stack of scrolls bound with indigo wax.

Twilight's mouth twisted as a grimace tried to overtake her features. “I understand wanting to keep it quiet, but she's been gone for hours. I could have... I could have done something to help. Why didn't you tell me?”

“Surely We need not remind you that this is not the first time Our sister has mysteriously vanished,” Luna said, her voice almost idle as she cracked the wax off one scroll and began to scan it intently. “Indeed, 'tis the second such disappearance in as many days. Forgive me for choosing to focus on priorities,” she said, a sharpness entering her neutral tone.

Twilight blinked, but her disbelief and her panic pushed her forward past the red warning flags her mind was tossing up. “And I’m not a priority?”

Luna’s eyes wandered the scroll, her attention trained solely on the ink on the parchment. “Should you be?” she asked as she scratched the page with a quill.

“I –!” Twilight gaped at Luna, momentarily lost for words. “What?”

“Should you be a priority? Really?” she repeated wearily. The scroll in her magical grip rolled itself and landed hard on the desk, and then the attention of the princess was focused solely on Twilight once more, eyebrow raised in faint derision. “Now, of all times? Our beloved sister has vanished seemingly into thin air, yet We are to drop Our search for her to inform you of the matter specially? Our sister takes priority here, Twilight Sparkle, and the spot after her is claimed by the well-being of Equestrian citizens as a whole.”

“I could have helped you!” Twilight stomped her hooves in desperation, begging to be heard. “Celestia is missing, I should have been out there looking for her, or – or finding a spell to track messages sent by Spike’s fire, that would have lead right to her!”

“Princess Celestia,” Luna corrected her, before looking back at her work. “And that is a dead end. The letters would arrive in her study as they always do.”

Twilight bit the inside of her cheek. “Fine. I know plenty of detection spells – some of them are ones I wrote myself. Give me a piece of chalk, one of her feathers and a bowl of ink and I'll find her.”

Luna snorted lightly, dismissing the idea. “Do you not realize who scribed the first spells of scrying? It was We two sisters, together, before Equestia, so that we could ever be with one another. To assume we taught the unicorns all we knew is foolishness indeed – We sisters can only be seen when we allow it. Chalk and ink will not find what Our invocations of Sun and Moon and bond of blood cannot.”

“I could have looked for clues in the library, at least!” Once upon a time, after all, a younger Twilight's favorite pastime was to curl up behind a thick book and read about Equestria's history, with the passages and chapters about Celestia increasingly dog-eared and bookmarked as years went on. “I can think of at least half a dozen places Celestia might have gone—”

“Such as the Shrine of Whitetail?” Luna raised the scroll she was reading, waving it meaningfully. Two more scrolls rose from the pile and magically unrolled themselves beside it in the air, and Twilight could just about make out the words of some sort of report written in them. “Or the falls of Neighagra, where many accounts note she took sabbatical last century? Perhaps the ruined monasteries in the Foal Mountains to the east? Her past haunts have been scoured by Our scouts, Twilight. 'Tis hardly work that begs for your presence.”

“I could have done something, at least!” Twilight protested, nearly a chant now. The cogs of the unicorn's mind ground against an iron thorn wedged in their teeth. She tried to make sense of it, what possible reason Luna could have for this, but the gears just gnashed on that barb – this doesn’t make sense this doesn’t make sense! “I could have helped.”

“Celestia is not the only Princess of Equestria!” Luna snapped, sudden and harsh as a fork of lightning.

Taken aback, Twilight couldn't respond before Luna's anger vanished as quick as it came, though her dark expression left an after-image burned in Twilight's mind all the same. She could only stare at Luna as the princess' attention squared back onto the reports.

“There happen to be certain resources available to Us for such situations,” Luna said, her voice, cold once more, breaking the silence. “Your involvement is unnecessary.”

'Unnecessary?' Twilight's mind froze completely, struck numb by the dismissal of her friend, somepony who she thought valued her abilities, who understood how vital it was to help Celestia – not the Princess, but Celestia, Luna's sister, Twilight's...

It didn't make sense.

In a flash, Twilight understood. It didn't make sense, but not because there was some big flaw in her thinking that she just wasn't seeing. With that, the gears of her brain began whirling backwards, spitting the iron shard out. 'There's something else going on, there must be,' she realized, and gritted her teeth.

“Have you found Celestia?” she demanded.

Luna's eyes flickered towards her, a flash of frustration quickly chilled with icy authority. “Princess Celestia has yet to be located, as you well—”

“Then your 'certain Princess resources' weren't enough,” Twilight said, cutting her off. “It wasn't enough. Celestia is gone, and you don't know where she is, so you don't get to say what is and is not necessary when it comes to finding her. You said that Celestia takes priority, she's, she's the most important concern, so you should be pulling out all the stops to find her, even if your personal opinion is that it'll do no good.”

“Our personal—?” Now it was Luna's turn to stare in shock, though it was only for a moment before she shifted into a stern glare. “Still thy tongue, Twilight Sparkle, lest you try Our patience. Regardless of our mutual affection, We are still your princess—”

“So act like it!” Twilight demanded. “Right now nothing you're doing makes sense! There is no reason why you shouldn't have told me about Celestia the second you found her gone! And even now, I'm here, I want to help, and you're telling me that I can't? That I shouldn't? Luna, why?”

As if it were paper set alight by fire in her own furious eyes, Luna's calm visage burnt away into blackened outrage. “Why! Why would We exclude an impetuous, volatile foal such as thee?! Why, Twilight Sparkle 'tis made clear by this very confrontation!”

Luna rose, terrible as a thunderstorm, the stars in her mane growing harsh and the shadows at her hooves looming over Twilight, pushing against the light of the setting sun. Twilight felt herself lean back, some primal fear urging her to flee – but her hooves, be it through determination or paralyzed fear, refused to budge an inch.

“Why involve you?” Luna shot, waving her hoof in dismissal. “So that you could explosively invade Our study? So that you could demand Our attention, Our obedience? You expect Us to involve you after this wanton display!? Be grateful for Our lenience at this intrusion, that We do not lock you into your chambers until you have cooled your temper! We are sorely tempted.”

Luna glared at her, head back, eyes narrow, contempt and disbelief etched into the beginnings of a sneer that sent Twilight's mind tumbling back, to years earlier, to the last time a dark Princess had glared down at her. By all rights, Twilight should have been intimidated into silence, but...

“You're kidding. You're kidding, right?” the terrible Nightmare before her scoffed... right as Twilight lowered her horn.

“Yes,” Twilight said, pushing through the fear. She had weathered far worse for Celestia's sake, and worse still from Luna alone. “Yes, I expect you to involve me because Celestia is top priority. You know I could have helped – name one pony in Canterlot that's more qualified than me to handle a potential crisis like this, one unicorn that could cast a specialized detection spell and find her, or knows her history and habits well enough to even start a search in the first place!”

“Your skills are great, and rightly lauded. I know of only one who could trump you in those tasks.” Luna leaned forward, her voice icy. “You are standing in her sanctum.”

Twilight reeled, almost physically thrown off-balance from Luna's words. For the princess to hold her status, her godhood over Twilight, especially at a time like this... it was startling, frightening. Luna may as well have scraped frozen daggers across Twilight's back where wings weren't.

Twilight mentally dug her hooves in regardless. “That's no reason not to tell me. You're busy with bureaucracy, I could have devoted my time to helping you find an immediate solution, scouting on the field directly. If you wanted subtlety, you could have sent someone to fetch me... or a letter, even!”

Luna's eyes flickered away for an instant. “We have had no time nor messengers nor missives to spare,” she said, and picked up the entire stack of scrolls from her desk to brandish them in Twilight's direction. “Even now, you delay us – these represent a mere hour of Our search for Celestia. The castle is stripped to the bone that all available guards might scour the land for her. Meanwhile, Our own guard are split between aiding the search and maintaining the charade so that nopony else discovers her absence. The fewer that know, the fewer the odds somepony will cause another panic. We shall maintain harmony regardless of your personal feelings on the matter.”

“This is harmony?” Twilight snarled.

Luna's eyes grew hardened once more, flashing sharp and cold as steel. “No, 'tis not. That is why We passed you by.”

“Luna—”

“Enough.”

Luna's voice cut the unicorn's protest, crushing it under a cold authority that brooked no argument. Twilight felt her jaw shut nearly of its own accord. Luna glowered, lip curling, before she tore her glare away.

“Had you more care for Harmony, O Element of Magic, We would have begged for your aid.” The princess' voice was flat, forced out of her mouth from between clenched teeth. “But what choice have you given Us? You hear the news and come bearing light and fury into my personal sanctuary, just as I expected you would, given your behavior of late. You make demands of Us, Princess of the Moon, just as We knew you would. This...” She ground her jaws, and looked back at Twilight once more, her eyes flashing with anger.

“This, We do not forgive, Twilight Sparkle. This we merely tolerate, because it is preferable to you absconding with Our sister to a public hospital of all places, like last time, when you betrayed her state for all the world to see. Do you even realize what you did? How sorely you wounded the throne's reputation, how cacophonous the pandemonium you created cried, how widely spread the seeds of fear you have sown?”

“I...” Twilight faltered, shame at the memory gnawing at her anger. “I was only trying to help Celestia. She was hurt, badly, and—!”

“You took matters into your hooves, Twilight Sparkle! You took Our sister away from Us, as if you were the only one who cared for her.”

Twilight stomped a hoof. “That's not fair! You were there too, you saw Celestia, when she –” Her voice choked, gripped by the memory looming over her.

Twilight stared out into the distance through Celestia's balcony window, contemplating the clouds all red and purple from the tired sun's light, frozen as it was atop its perch on the horizon. Her mind felt pleasantly empty, but her limbs and stomach quivered, her body a tightly wound spring. She shivered against the shiny metallic blanket a nurse had draped over her, and leaned further against the foot of Celestia's bed.

On it, rested Celestia, the sound of her sure, heavy breathing somewhat comforting. Twilight found herself trying to breathe along with her, matching her despite the huge difference in size.

It was calming. It helped her focus on something other than thinking.

Over by the door, she heard snippets of hurried debate and orders between Luna, one of the guards and a nurse. Doctors would be arriving soon, which was –

The mattress she was leaning against shifted, and Twilight whipped her head over to see Celestia struggling to rise.

“Um,” was all she could manage, scrambling to her hooves.

Celestia didn't notice, her burnt wings flaring out as she struggled to pull herself upright. One of her hooves struggled for purchase atop the bed, only to give way and slip off, bringing Celestia down with it.

“Princess!” Twilight yelped. Her horn lit, but not fast enough. Celestia crumpled on the ground, a burned and weak white bulk. Twilight rushed to her side, her magic aiding the princess as she continued to try to pull herself up.

“I don't... don't...” Weary wings twitching, Celestia struggled on instinct against Twilight's magic.

“Princess, princess, it's me,” Twilight said as soothingly as she could, hovering in anxiety beside her. “It's just me, Twilight.”

Managing to rise to a seated position, Celestia blinked, bleary and pained, before seeing Twilight before her. “Twilight?” she asked, her voice slurred and confused.

The smaller pony wilted slightly, remembering the last moments in that burning laboratory, remembering Celestia lower her horn, ready to charge. “Y-yes,” she replied with a careful nod. “It's Twilight.”

Celestia remained still, eyes dull as she tried to process Twilight's words. “I... I have to...” She began to struggle again, trying to rise from her seated position, face twisting in monumental concentration. Her strength only held for a moment before she slumped back down, trembling in either exhaustion or frustration.

Twilight tried to speak, but could barely summon a squeak, paralyzed between wanting to help her princess, and wanting her to return to rest. Some of that trepidation must have played across her face, because Celestia moved forward and pressed her cheek against Twilight's in a clumsy nuzzle. “I'm alright, I'm alright...” she murmured. Twilight couldn't speak, her throat strangled by guilt and relief. Her eyes blurred, wet, and she leaned into the nuzzle, reaching around with her hoof to hug her tattered princess.

Twilight broke the embrace first, and quickly wiped her eyes. Pulling back, she saw Celestia had now turned her attention to the balcony's bay windows. Confused, she looked over at Luna, and was surprised to find her not at the door, but halfway across the room, frozen mid-step. Twilight couldn't place the unsure expression on the Night Princess' face, but it dissolved quickly when their eyes met. Luna stood a little straighter, nodded in Celestia's direction, and then turned and walked back towards her consultants by the door.

Beside her, Celestia drew a heavy breath.

“Princess?” Twilight asked softly.

Celestia continued to stare out the window for a moment, before Twilight's voice registered. “I need to...” she mumbled, trying to rise, but only managing a shrug.

“You want to get up?” Twilight asked.

Celestia blinked hard again, and focused her dull eyes on Twilight. “Mmm, yes. The balcony, there's...” Her face scrunched up, overtaken by pained concentration.

Twilight hesitated for a moment, before flaring her horn. Her magical aura cradled Celestia as the princess struggled to rise once more, this time managing to get her legs underneath herself. Face screwed up in pained exertion, Celestia rose, and began to take a shaky step towards the windows.

Twilight's eyes flicked back over to Luna, who was watching the scene out of the corner of her eye, frowning slightly, wings tense at her side. However, she did nothing to intervene, so Twilight turned back to Celestia and walked along side her, her horn glowing softly as she helped her princess remain steady. The strain wasn't much – Twilight could tell that Celestia was quickly finding her balance, as if she was merely groggy from a late night's work and not so badly hurt.

“You should be resting, Princess...” Twilight said, adopting as soothing a tone as she could muster.

Celestia only murmured in response, responding to the sound of Twilight's voice rather than her suggestion. After another few steps, she paused before the glass doors of her balcony, taking a long moment to process their presence, before simply pushing the ajar door of the set open with a hoof.

“Sister?” Luna's voice called. Twilight glanced back to see Luna pacing towards them, but Celestia seemed to not register the call, and slipped outside to the balcony, her clumsy pace quickened.

Twilight hesitated, again, then flinched as a star-filled glow flooded over her vision when Luna rushed right past her. Rooted in her place, Twilight looked through the glass and she saw the younger confront the elder – worry was painted across Luna's frown and twitching wings, while Celestia remained utterly blank. Twilight stepped out into the cool evening air and took a few wary paces towards the sisters, loath to interrupt or interfere.

“Just need air...” Twilight heard Celestia mumble, the princess' eyes focusing off to the side, to the horizon.

“Sister, I know what time it is,” Luna said, wary. “I can feel it too. It's sunset, but you're hurt.”

“I'm fine,” sighed Celestia, her exasperation undercut by her slurred voice.

“Sister, the medics have not even arrived yet. Wait for their appraisal first, I beg.”

“It's far past time for the sun to set, Luna,” Celestia said, frustration bubbling into her tone. “My ponies are relying on me. I'm fine, the medics will tell you. I'm fine.”

“You are not fine, anypony can see that. It's not safe. Please wait a little while longer.”

“The medics will take hours,” Celestia moaned, turning her head side to side. “They always do. Let me end this day so my ponies won't have to wait to sleep until they tell you that I am fine.”

“You want the day to end?” Luna ground her hoof into the stone of the balcony. “Fine. Sister, allow me to set the sun in your stead.”

Celestia tensed instantly. “No.”

“Just for tonight, I am able, believe me.”

Closing her eyes, Celestia's expression grew sour. “No.”

“Celestia, you need rest –” Luna began, placing a hoof on her sister's shoulder to comfort her.

“No.” Celestia shrugged off Luna's hoof and stepped away from her, wobbling as she focused a pained and angered glare onto her sister. “No, I do not. I do not need rest, and I will not have my sun taken from me.”

Luna recoiled, aghast. “Sister!”

“I still draw breath,” the elder alicorn snarled, swaying on her hooves. “So I am still the – the sun's envoy. I must-!” Celestia threw her head back, her horn ablaze, bright as the sun – for an instant, at least. It spluttered out quickly and she groaned, bowing her head.

“Princess, you're hurt!” Twilight rushed towards her, only to be rebuffed by a swipe of her soot-stained wing. The tip of her primary feathers clipped her on her shoulder, and as weak as the blow was it still sent Twilight stumbling to the side, barely avoiding toppling over. She hit the wall of the castle before she managed to recover, and stared back at Celestia in shock.
Celestia stared back, frozen. “I'm...”

“Sister, stop this nonsense,” Luna interjected, her voice low, hitching on a smothered sob.

Celestia's nostrils flared, and she turned on her sister, wings stretched menacingly at her side. “How dare you! I am Celestia! I still draw breath! One thousand years you were gone! I did my duty alone! I did both our duties! Sun and moon, for a thousand years, on my own.”

“That is not fair, Celestia,” Luna said in reproach, her voice shaky and her face stricken with disbelief and hurt.

“It is perfectly fair!” Celestia lurched forward, forcing Luna backwards to avoid a collision. “Do you think I'm some feeble nag? That this is the worst wound I've suffered in a thousand years? Did you think every last one of those years was peaceful? That the Nightmare was the last blight on the land?”

Luna's jaw opened and shut wordlessly, shocked into silence and quickly shrinking backwards away from her sister as Celestia continued to pace towards her, hooves unsteady but nevertheless sending tremors through the balcony's marble floor.

“Do you think I am too weak, unfit to carry on?” Celestia demanded, her voice a slurred roar. “Or do you just think I'm an idiot, that I would pawn my sacred charge to–!?”

“Celestia!” Twilight cried, horrified, and cantered forward. She hooked her foreleg around Celestia's, tugging her away from Luna. Despite this, Celestia still dragged her forward, the princess' wings battering her as they lifted them both off the ground. Unable to keep her grip, Twilight slipped off and landed hard on her rump.

Celestia landed on the other side of the balcony, her horn glowing. Her face twisted in pain, but rather than wink out, her magic flared twice as bright. Opening her eyes, she looked upwards, pinning both Luna and Twilight in place with her glare. “I am Celestia,” she cried, her body becoming engulfed by the furious white light of her horn before the two petrified mares. “I still draw breath. I still—!”

There was a terrible crack, and everything Twilight knew became a blur.

Celestia screamed in utter agony, and the white light of her horn became blood red, pulsing in frantic, dying flares.

The light in the sky vanished abruptly, every red and purple and orange painted across the canvass of clouds swallowed up into darkness. The only light left in the world was the bursts of magic from Celestia's horn as she thrashed and screamed.
Luna rushed forward, but turned away from her sister, staring wide-eyed and fearful into the blackness that was once the horizon. She tore herself away, facing the darkness.

Twilight ran, galloping to Celestia's side, the screams obliterating all thought. She collapsed beside Celestia, drawing her head into her arms. The princess moaned and sobbed, pain twisting her features, her blood and tears staining Twilight's coat as she twisted in her grip.

Luna's horn flared to life – and Celestia's light died.

She went limp against Twilight's body.

Horror and desperation surged through Twilight, taking life as a rose flow of magic engulfed her and her princess.

Another snap, and Twilight's senses were assaulted with bright harsh light, with gasps of ponies and clatter of wheels and machines, of the stench of disinfectant. She looked up, her heart slamming against her ribs, and saw a unicorn in front of her, one with a red cross for a cutie mark.

Thought finally returned to her.

“Please...” she whispered hoarsely, leaning her shuddering body into Celestia's. “She needs a doctor.”

Twilight shuddered, every fiber of her being trying to shrug off the trauma of the memory. “Luna, it was a disaster. I just... I just reacted, okay?”

“As if that forgives a thing.” Luna's lip curled. “You panicked, as you are so fond of doing, and took Our sister away from Us. You humiliated Celestia, stirred up a crisis where there was none, and left Us to try to placate a kingdom running about as if they had lost their heads. Do you realise who took the blame for what you did? We did. Every pony believed me to be a Nightmare once more, because you, somepony We trusted, panicked.”

Twilight gaped. “They – what?”

Luna narrowed her eyes. “Why are We not surprised? Shall We paint the scene for you? Our sister, beloved Celestia, burnt and weakened. A flare of light and magic, visible across Canterlot, and a scream. Then, darkness falls across the land, the moon rises, and Our sister is gone. What would Equestria see, if they were then to look upon Us?”

Twilight's eyes widened. “I – I didn't know.”

The princess of the night's glower only deepened. “Does your ignorance change how the nobility turned on the crown that night? Does it erase the chains that bound Us to the castle, forced to calm this storm rather than search for our dear sister? You stole that duty from Us!”

“Luna, I was scared,” Twilight insisted, gritting her teeth, shaking her head incredulously. “All my work was in flames, I thought I had killed Celestia in that laboratory, and then, just when I thought she was going to be okay, she... I was scared, and confused, I didn't know what was happening, all I knew was I needed to help her. Are you punishing me for that?”

The princess drew herself up. “Nay, not punishment. 'Tis prudence. We can no longer trust your judgment where my sister is involved.”

“For heavens' sake, Luna, yes you can!” Twilight snarled. “Even if there's nothing else, you can trust in me to do whatever it takes to save Celestia!”

“Desperation is no virtue,” said Luna as she turned her head away. “Not when you abandon composure.”

“I know.” Twilight let out a shaky sigh, but her nerves remained as steel. “That's what created the mess you fell into, and I'm sorry everypony thought you were to blame, but I'm not going to apologize for trying to help Celestia when she was in so much pain, and I'm not going to act like I'm supposed to be guilty for something you never told me about – especially not when you're being so unbelievably selfish right now.”

Luna snapped her glare back at Twilight, incredulous. “Selfish? We are not the one who is impeding Celestia's rescue with her demands.”

Twilight matched her expression. “You're demanding that the most talented unicorn in Equestria back off from trying to help because she accidentally hurt your feelings.”

“You believe We would risk my sister's safety to spite you?” Luna lifted her snout up to the air. “She has hidden herself. She waited until you were absent and hid away. Is that not telling?”

Twilight stared at her in shock for a moment, her words tumbling down her mind before letting them slide away. “You can't even keep your excuses straight,” she growled, turning away.

Luna bristled behind her. “How dare you speak to your princess like—”

“No!” Twilight yelled, spinning to face the princess again and stomping a hoof. “No. You don't get to pull the crown over this, not now, not to me. Celestia is missing, she could be hurt, and it's like you care more about getting back at me than finding her.”

“You overestimate your importance, Twilight Sparkle. We don't need you to save Our sister.”

Twilight threw her hooves up, shaking with frustration. When they hit the ground, she spun on them and marched towards the door. “Fine, believe that if you want. I'm leaving.”

“At long last,” Luna called. “Consider yourself fortunate. Others would not be treated as lightly as you for speaking to your princess as you have. As it stands–”

“Do what you like, I don't care.” Twilight paused, tossing a glare back over her shoulder. “I don't need your approval – stay with your reports, or whatever. I'll find Celestia on my own.”

The princess froze, then bristled at the words. “You shan’t. You are unreliable, uncooperative, and unnecessary,” she hissed. “Our sister ill needs aid from the likes of you.”

“Why don't we let Celestia be the judge of that, instead of you deciding things for her in her absence,” Twilight shot back. “If you were the one who was missing, I would be the first pony Celestia would call for. She trusts me, and if she's hiding or something, then there's a good chance she'd let herself be found.”

Luna's wings twitched. “She trusts you? She would let you find her? How arrogant can you be?”

Twilight tensed, grinding her hooves deep into the carpet, anchoring herself firmly in place as she jutted her head out. “I'm not arrogant at all! It's the truth! Name one, even one pony in all of Equestria, that Celestia actually trusts well enough to let herself be found!”

Luna exploded, and dove at Twilight, her eyes bright with fury, her wings spreading like the storm clouds unraveling across the sky, her mane bursting into an abyssal banner behind her. “How dare you sweep me aside!?” she screamed, towering over Twilight in her wrath, her voice reverberating through every bone in the unicorn's body. “Celestia is my sister! When the sun falls, the moon rises to her aid, she must! It is my love, my responsibility! She is my sister! What makes you think you can take that from me? What gives you the right to be the one there for her?”

Twilight's ears wilted, her eyes wide, but even as she instinctively backed away, hiding, shying from the wrath of the night... she remembered.

Her body locked in place, her heart beating fit to burst, her spine becoming a rod of steel steady and unwavering... she remembered.

She was there in the hospital lobby, resting on couch cushions with Celestia, resting now, shoulder pressed to shoulder.

Then, they're in the familiar study, scrawling in unison on a blackboard, hard at work chasing down secrets,

Then, she burns her tongue on a mouthful of tea, mortified and beyond amused by Celestia's sly comments,

Then, Celestia is rising from her hospital bed, and Twilight feels every wince and jolt of pain that flashes bare across the princess' face,

Then, they are sitting in the warm circle of light beside the fireplace in Twilight's library, cosy in the long shadows, and a smile is tugging at Twilight's mouth as she says, “I've been thinking...”

Then, they are surrounded by notes and diagrams, trading and correcting each other's revelations,

Then, they are floating in scented water, a bashful sliver of paradise,

Then, she is falling asleep in her arms,

Then it all shattered, and –

She saw...

Celestia, perched high above Equestria on the ledge of that tiny bridge, her eyes locked with Twilight as she began to fall.

She smelled...

Spice. Celestia's scent, sandalwood lingering on her lavender coat, drawing her back into memory,

She heard...

Roaring, the ocean of flames and the crashing of machinery all around her as she desperately searched for her princess.

She felt...

Heat. The savage claws of fire as she held her in her arms. The soothing embrace of water as she held her in her arms.

She tasted...

Blood.

Blood on her lips, as she pleaded desperately, as she wept uncontrollably, and all she wanted, more than anything, was for Celestia to hear her, to know the truth.

Luna's question rang out. “What right do you have to be there for her?”

The answer was obvious, more terrible than the storm before her. Unable to hide, Twilight blurted it out in a rush of realization.

“I have as much right as anypony who has loved another.”

Twilight's heart thundered against her ribs, and her jaw shifted loosely as she felt her way around the words, fascinated and terrified by them in equal measure.

“I'm in love with her,” she said, repeating her admission. She looked up at Luna, who stood stunned, rooted in place. “I have as much right as anyone who is in love to see this through, to whatever end I find. I know it might not seem like much of a reason, but I love her, and... I...”

She remembered the goddess floating in the pool, inviting and open.

She remembered the mare lying in the bed, begging her to stay for just one night, and held her, and needed her.

Slowly and carefully, Twilight finished her admission. “And she needs me. I know that for certain. So I'm going to find her, and be there for her. Because I love her.”

She didn't wait for Luna's reaction. The rose light of her horn overtook her and, with a snap-crack, she was back in her bedroom, looking through the window out at the bleeding sunset.

“I love her...” Twilight stared as the last sliver of the sun slipped below the horizon, and turned her head away. “I don't have to justify that. ”

Twilight raced up the winding steps leading to the only place she could think of that could hold a clue – the Tower Library, the favored haunt of her long-gone student days. Pushing through the doors, she squinted into the darkness inside – the sun had set and the lanterns above the stacks had yet to be lit, so that the only illumination in the great chamber was the lingering lavender of the night sky as it awaited the moon.

Twilight's ears pricked up as she heard a dull thud down one of the bookcases, the unmistakable sound of a book being dropped. Lighting her horn, she cast her eyes in the direction of the noise. “Hello? Is someone there?”

There was a startled yelp and another crash, a special sort of crash Twilight instantly recognised. She galloped forward, and was rewarded with the sight of her trusty assistant sprawled on the ground, massaging his head with a claw. “Twilight?” the dragon asked, blinking in surprise.

“Spike, thank goodness I found you!” Twilight smiled, relieved, but her good humor faded as she spotted an old tome lying half open on the ground.

Spike followed her eyes to the book, and with an embarrassed gasp, snatched it up and theatrically dusted it off. “Heh, uh, sorry...”

Twilight bit her tongue, holding back the reflexive reprimand about dropping books in the library, and instead looked the dragon over with a concerned eye. “Don't worry about it. I heard about what happened this morning. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you.”

Spike shrugged, downcast. “I dunno if there was anything you could've done, Twilight. I was asleep when something knocked me off the bed. By the time I got untangled from the blanket, the Princess was gone...”

Twilight nodded in sympathy. “It must have been scary. I'm glad I found you, but what are you doing here? Why didn't you stay at the castle?”

“Oh, well, I was, but, I couldn't just sit around.” He shrugged. “It was only about a minute after the Princess was gone that Princess Luna flew inside. She was really scared and acting weird – I wanted to go get you, but she said that'd be a bad idea, then called a bunch of the guards to her study. It was either wait around for you or Luna to come back, or come here and try to dig something up myself, so...”

“Good initiative.” Twilight smiled.

“Thanks, not that I've found much.” He glanced at his claws, wringing in nervousness. “Why didn't the Princess want you to help?”

Twilight sighed. There was no doubt which princess Spike was referring to. “I don't really know, Spike. It's complicated.” She rubbed her chin with her hoof. “When Celestia vanished, you said you got woken up, and then she was gone? Do you remember anything else?”

“It all happened really fast,” Spike said, shaking his head. “Sorry, I, I just didn't see anything.”

“No, Spike, you did fine. Don't you worry.” Twilight leaned down, nuzzling him reassuringly. “Now that my number-one assistant is here, there's no problem we can't solve!”

“You think so?”

Twilight nodded in honest confidence. “I do. Now, let's hit those books, shall we?”

Spike grinned wide, giving her an excited salute. “Yes ma'am! Where do we start?”

“Good question... Get me a copy of 'Lux Aeturnum: Carmina et Historias de Solaris Regina'. There's a first edition one somewhere here, that'll be the one with the most hints. I'll go find an atlas or something and see you in the map room.”

“I'm on it!” Spike pounded a claw into his fist, fired up, and ran, disappearing into the stacks. A moment later, he reappeared and ran in the opposite direction, shooting Twilight a sheepish smile. “History is that way...” he clarified as he vanished into the books once more.

Twilight glanced to the side, and caught a glimpse of the sky through the massive window at the heart of the chamber. Though the sun was set, the sky was still painted a hazy orange melting into blue. Part of Twilight urged her to check the sky, to see if the moon had risen, but instead, she turned her back on it. Keeping an ear out for any possible avalanches of books, Twilight dove inwards, deep into the shelves, knowing their layout like the back of her hoof.

Within moments she was in the depths of the library, a secluded oval nook dominated by a massive brass globe. With a jolt of magic she lit the lanterns hanging from the low ceiling, illuminating the room and setting the polished globe alight, its embossed surface glittering in the lamplight. Twilight paused, struck still for a moment in part by admiration of its craftsmanship, and a pang of melancholy and worry. A memory rose to mind, of her first visit to the maproom, her wonder at the globe and then Celestia's secret grin as she admitted that, as pretty as it was, the globe was centuries out of date and valuable only as decoration.

Shaking her head out of the thought, she began to scan the walls, lined with pigeonholes and adorned with massive ancient maps of Equestria and the lands beyond.

'That's strange... most of the maps I need are missing...' Cursing the disorder of the room, she stepped back and gave the shelves a second look.

She grimaced, spotting dozens of empty pigeonholes where the maps she needed should have rested. 'Either the library staff's standards have plummeted since I've been gone, or...'

“Pray tell, are these what you are searching for?” a voice behind her asked. Twilight stiffened, and glanced over her shoulder.

Behind the brass globe, half a dozen scrolls floating in her azure magic, stood Princess Luna, regarding Twilight with a calm, cautious expression. “Maps of Equestria and her environs, yes? Our cartographers and scouts found these invaluable today.”

“Those are categorized as technical, geographic resources declared free and open for public use under the Education and Development Reformation Act signed by the crown two centuries ago,” Twilight blurted out.

Luna blinked, and her eyes lit with a flash of hurt before she turned her head away. “There is little need for that,” she sighed, floating the maps towards Twilight.

Twilight stared at them, stunned, before plucking them out of air. “Thank you,” she murmured, her eyes lingering a moment longer on the night princess, who still avoided her gaze. Turning to a lectern, she unfurled the scrolls and began scanning each one in turn.

Awkwardness hung thick in the air, cloying the room between them, the soft ruffling of parchment becoming a deafening roar in the silence.

“Our cartographers have already searched those scrolls,” Luna said, her voice drifting over.

Twilight gave the sparsely populated pigeonholes on the wall an annoyed look. “Yes, I realize.”

Dark feathers ruffled on the corner of her sight. “We personally oversaw it, after scouring Our mind and this library for where Our sister might have retreated to.”

Twilight pursed her lips and clamped down on her tongue, and kept studying the maps.

The silence stretched out and broke under Luna's sigh. “Thou shalt not find what We could not,” she said with soft insistence.

Twilight scowled into the map. “And why exactly is that? Maybe you've had a whole team of ponies scouring for hints in the library, but I'm willing to bet I've spent more time talking to her about history in one day than any of them have in their lives. Combined!” She redoubled her stare, but to her frustration no insights burst from the ink in reward for her defiance. She grumbled, “I mean, probably...”

“The same could be said of you and I, could it not?” Luna murmured in response. Her wings tensed, pulled close against her body like coiled springs. “She and I have only ever had one another.”

“But that's not true.” The words tumbled out of Twilight's mouth, causing her to cringe, aghast at the frank reality now demanding to be addressed.

Stone-faced, Luna stared, betraying no response.

Twilight almost stopped, but between the daunting silence and the princess' searching eyes, she found the truth continued to slip from her tongue. “Putting everything else aside, you were gone, for a long time. Maybe you've always had her there, but for her...”

Luna's eyes shut, and Twilight paused, biting her lip. “You weren't always there...”

“And she was alone,” Luna finished for her, turning away a moment too late – Twilight caught a glimpse of her stone expression crumbling, before being obscured by the starry veil of her mane. “Perchance you do find her? What, pray, would you do then?”

“What? Oh...” Twilight blinked, caught off-balance by the swift return to the crisis at hoof. “Well, I'll make sure she's okay. I'll bring her back, if that's what she wants. Or I won't. Whatever she wants, I'll do that.”

“Because you are in love with her.” An eye peeked out from over the princess' shoulder, careful and observant.

“Because I'm her friend,” Twilight corrected.

Luna's eyes closed, seemingly satisfied. “You are, aren't you?”

Twilight turned to fully face the princess, confusion echoing through her mind. “What do you mean by that?”

Luna did not reply immediately, instead looking towards the brass globe, as if searching it for the right words. “I was uncertain about your intentions towards her,” she said. “There have been many who have tried to manipulate her, even when professing to love her. I saw pain within her, Twilight. Pain that has been building, and I grew uncertain. That is why I did not involve you.”

Twilight bit her lip, and for a ghost of a moment tasted blood that was not her own. The shame she had drowned in surged up once more, but only as an echo, and she found her frustrations and malaise with Luna begin to drain away. After all, hadn't she been paralyzed by her own feelings, for that same fear?

“I – I guess I understand.” Twilight managed a nod. “But I don't know if that was very fair.”

Luna released a deep sigh, and her horn began to glow softly. Under her gaze, the brass globe began to turn, the massive wrought orb creaking as its long-unattended joints resumed its forgotten simulacrum of orbit. “Forgive me, Twilight. Forgive its necessity. Caution was needed, but all of this was meant to be resolved by now. I intended to find Celestia before confronting you on this matter.”

Her magic faded, and the globe creaked to a halt, with brass Equestria resting between them. “Alas, she is nowhere to be found.”

Twilight stepped closer to her. “We'll find her,” she said.

Luna's head dropped, slow and weary, seemingly as if she were giving into a suffocating weight pressing down on her crown. “In truth, finding her is only part of my concern. My greatest fear is the condition we might find her in.”

“Her injuries are stable,” Twilight began, before she felt her heart sink, her voice growing low. “But that's not what you're talking about, is it?”

Luna shook her head. “Something terrible lurks within her. Pain. Sadness. I know not its true cause but I fear what it has done to her. I fear she is lost in a nightmare.”

“W-what?” Twilight sputtered, but there was no mistaking Luna's words, and her tone held no illusions.

There could only be one thing the princess of the night, of all ponies, could mean by Celestia being in a nightmare.

“She and I, we have been so distant ever since my return. No.... that is not true. We are close, closer than we have ever been, and yet we are still divided by a veil. Such a scant distance, and yet, so far I cannot see her as clearly as I once did. So, while she dreamed, I thought to visit her. ” Luna paused, swallowing as a shadow passed over her expression. She stole a glance at Twilight, meeting her eyes briefly, before going on. “I confronted her about what she feels for – well, about many things. About how she can be dishonest with herself, about the mask that yet divides us so, that she presses tight to her face and believes me not to notice.”

“What happened?”

“I pushed her, and the mask broke, and her mind...” Luna took a sharp breath, her voice laden with guilt. “She is haunted by a terrible ghost, one born of the deepest pain, and it tore through her psyche. We were both trapped within her mind as it all collapsed. I did my best to stabilize her mind, but could no more hold the sheer cascade of emotion than a fish can hold back a waterfall. By the time I recovered, she had vanished from her own dream.”

“How is that even possible?”

“Tis a waking nightmare, Twilight Sparkle!” Luna scowled in frustration, but it quickly faded back into her tired worry. “And I fear she is yet lost within it. I woke from the dream as soon as I was able and raced to be by her side, to aid her, but found her chambers as you did. Gone without a trace.”

Twilight felt her stomach begin to knot itself, twisting in worry. “So, you think she's having a nightmare? A breakdown? We –”
Her words dried up as her mind rushed back to her ruined laboratory, where the shards of crystal fear and darkness lay. Her hoof shot to her mouth as the horrible realization dawned. “Oh no... Luna, I think...”

“What is it? You know something of this?” Luna turned to face her, alarmed by her sudden shift.

Twilight nodded, eyes darting as she sought connections. “I-I think so. Luna, in the laboratory – it was the reason why I rushed here in the first place, I needed to report it to Celestia – in the wreckage, we found dark crystals, evidence of dark magical forces. I don't know why or how they were there, but Celestia was right in the center of that disaster. There must be a connection.”

Luna fixed her with a wary look. “Are you absolutely sure it was dark magic?”

“Positive, I tested it personally. It felt like concentrated regret and loss.” Twilight shuddered. “Pure negativity. I'd recognize that feeling anywhere.”

“You recognized it?” Luna gasped in horror. “How?”

Twilight was dumbstruck. “Luna, I – I've known for years how to use dark magic.”

The princess drew herself up, brandishing her authority with flaring wings. “Does my sister know of this?”

Now it was Twilight's turn to stare incredulously. “Luna, she was the one who showed me the rudiments of dark magic – when the Crystal Empire returned, remember? She wanted me to know what I'd be up against...” She trailed off in the face of the princess' frozen form.

“No. Untrue.” Luna stomped her hoof, flatly denying what she heard. “You are... you are mistaken. The darkness cannot touch my sister, she is light incarnate –”

“Luna, she's the one who showed me what it could do. It's not like she found it pleasant, and she used her light magic to burn away the effects afterward, but –”

“No, Twilight, you simply do not understand,” Luna insisted, a thread of desperation weaving into her words. “Dark magic is twisted, it requires more than mere bad thoughts – resentment, anger, sorrow, only deep emotional instability and pain can spark the dark flames and grant that terrible magic.”

Twilight's brow furrowed at this new knowledge, knowing Luna was speaking from harsh experience.

'I cast it just fine... though I guess it'd be a stretch to call me a paragon of stability.'

“Luna, you just described to me how Celestia is trapped in a nightmare,” she said instead, taking care to hold a neutral tone. “How could that be, if she doesn't have the feelings that you're saying make dark magic possible?”

“She does not have –!” The thread of refusal snapped taught, and Luna froze, suspended between her own words and the truth Twilight claimed. Denial danced in her eyes, but as they met the unicorn's, something within them crumbled. A flash of mourning passed over her face before her eyes shut in quiet acceptance. “I... I had no sense of such darkness in her. None at all...! But if what you say is true, if she showed it to you years ago, then...”

Twilight then saw what Luna had realised. “Then... she's always had those feelings?”

“Not before.” Luna shook her head, her wings curling around herself. “I believed this pain to be recent. If tis not, then I...”
Her eyes snapped towards Twilight's. “Heed me now. The dream we shared was a nightmare. The ruins of our ancient home crumbled, torn apart by a monster that bore my sister's face until it was crushed by the rubble of its own destruction. A great torrent of water crashed down on us, and Celestia was swept away by the waterfall. I could not save her – her mind pushed me away.”

“The castle in the Everfree forest? I see...” Twilight mulled over this new information, letting her horn glow. Her quill on the lectern floated in the air and scrawled 'Castle' on a leaf of blank parchment. Twilight paused, and scribbled 'Waterfalls?' beside it, linking the two with a line. “What did the waterfall mean? Was there a waterfall in your old castle?”

“Nay, there was not. I caution you against judging nightmares by their immediate appearances. I remind you that she was overwhelmed by emotions – the waterfall was that, manifest.”

Twilight nodded, scribbling down further notes, but her line of thought was interrupted as Luna walked past her.
“I shall make the scouting reports available to you,” Luna announced, stepping quickly towards the door. “I trust you to handle the matter from here.”

Twilight's jaw flapped open and shut a few times before she found words again. “You're leaving? But Princess, if we work together –!”

The princess paused at the doorframe, her body edging into the shadows of the unlit library. “I have pursued every avenue available to me, and despite all my power I have found nothing. I know why, now. I should have seen right away.” Her head bowed, and, as she swallowed a lump in her throat, she offered Twilight a wan smile. “It must be you. Bring her back to me.”
Before Twilight could speak another word, before she could ask if her friend had returned, Luna was gone, a ghost fading into the darkness of the library with a single stride.

Alone, Twilight's eyes slid from the dark doorway to the parchment in the lamplight, holding the clues Luna had revealed to her. 'Castle' and 'Waterfalls', images from a dream – unreliable at best, but Luna clearly felt something in them was important. Twilight didn't want to doubt the princess of the night’s convictions, but she couldn't deny that a dream could mean anything.

A hurried patter of clawed feet on stone caught her attention, and she turned back to the door to see Spike scurry inside, arms laden with a huge book twice his size. “Got it!” he wheezed, lifting the biography over his head, proffering it to her. “It was at the back of the very top shelves and the ladder's wheels got a little caught so I needed kind of shimmy along the shelves a little, but...”

His sheepish grin petered out alongside his trailing words, and he glanced over his shoulder back at the door. “So, was that Princess Luna? Did, uh, did I miss something?”

Where to begin? “A bit,” Twilight said with a soft chuckle, lifting the heavy book from his arms with her magic.

Spike fiddled with his thumbs. “Isn't she going to help?”

“She's done everything she can, Spike. Now it's up to us.”

Spike gave an enthusiastic salute, either missing or ignoring the worry in her voice. “Then the best pony is on the job, am I right?”

Twilight hesitated. 'It must be you.'

A flicker of doubt wormed its way into her, but she squashed down on it mercilessly. 'There's no time for second guesses! Celestia needs you. Luna is relying on you. You have Spike, you have clues, and you have books.'

Her horn glowed, basking the room in a rosy balm. Maps burst off the lecterns and unfurled in the air, the heavy 'Lux Aeturnum' opened itself before Twilight, its pages rapidly turning under an intangible breeze, and Twilight returned Spike's grin with a determined smile of her own. “You're right. We can do this. Let's get to work!”

The moon was waiting, high and bright in the sky, when Twilight returned to the castle, a sleeping Spike on her back, a saddlebag filled with notes and maps at her side, and a heart burdened with frustration and worry.

Despite hours of work, searching for castles and hideaways and sanctuaries throughout Celestia's past, they had found nothing. The fact of the matter was that every avenue they searched, Luna had already pursued, especially focusing on the castle she had lived in a thousand years ago. Twilight compared her suspicions with the reports written in Luna's own hoof, and couldn't deny their thoroughness. Everywhere Twilight could think to look, Luna's scouts had already combed – they had searched sanctuaries and battlefields and landmarks of joy and sorrow and pain and healing alike, and Celestia was nowhere to be found.

Determination and despair battled in Twilight's mind as she walked through the quiet corridors. Part of her mind was putting together a detailed plan to survey the Everfree Forest with her friends and Luna's scouts, perhaps find some secret passage or sanctuary Celestia kept hidden. Another part of her feared for the dark magic found in her experiment, and the nightmare Luna had related – could Celestia become consumed by the pain she had been hiding for so long? The thought drifted through Twilight's mind and she knew if it did occur, she would only blame herself for not reaching her mentor in time.

But the truth was Twilight's mind and heart were elsewhere, pulling her back to the morning in the spa they had shared together. Of Celestia smiling with her, confiding in her... that precious glimpse of her honest friendship sustained her. It was childish, but Twilight wished they could go back to that morning and just bask in it once more, where no nightmares or darkness could reach them. 'At the very least, I could have been there for her when the nightmare struck...'

Twilight stepped through a doorway and out into the night sky, and found herself on the bridge leading to Celestia's private tower. It seemed like months, years since she had arrived on this bridge by chariot, lending Celestia a hoof as they made their way back to her apartments.

Twilight didn't know what to make of it at the time. After the ordeal of the explosion, her mind had been so scattered, her heart so strained, all she had known for sure was that Celestia was hurting and that she needed Twilight there. That was when things truly changed – something rekindled, or maybe some wall had crumbled, but whatever the cause, Twilight hadn't been ready for it.

“I'm ready now, but what good is it if I can't find you?” Twilight stared into the night, searching for an answer, for a reassurance that there was hope. “How can I be there for you like this when you're so far away, and I'm left behind chasing castles and waterfalls?”

She stared out into the dark horizon, at the shadows of the landscape below and the soft velvet black of the clouds above and the moonlight cascading down between them, glittering in the rivers snaking through the land.

Twilight stared at the glimmering light, and saw crystals – studded in Celestia's regalia, and floating in the water of her grand experiment, and hidden in cavernous depths unknown.

And suddenly she knew where Celestia was.

A flash of understanding, and a crushing hope. The clues clicked in place and Twilight was running, jostling Spike on her back as she accelerated into a frenzied gallop, shoving the heavy tower door open with barely a thought. Her hooves ate the winding steps and she was deaf to Spike's panicked yelp and numb to his claws digging into her coat for purchase.

She burst past the solitary guard stationed at the princess' doorway, and screeched to a halt within her bedroom. Safe at last, Spike flopped off her back, in a daze. “Twilight, what?”

“Spike, I know where Celestia is!” Twilight grinned, giddy and desperate. “There's only one possibility! Only one!”

Spike said something, alert now, but Twilight didn't hear him – her mind was spinning, double-checking her realization. “I've been so stupid! We've been looking all over Equestria for clues, but it's no wonder we couldn't find the castle! We shouldn’t even have been looking for them! It was so obvious! We didn't even need the dream – Celestia already told me everything I need!”

Before Spike could form a coherent question, Twilight was running. She rushed to the balcony, back out into the open air, and listened.

The night was quiet. The only sound was the whisper of the night wind... and the distant roar spilling from the mountain below.

'Could it be that simple?' Twilight couldn't restrain the terrible hope filling her body. 'This whole time? We searched and searched, but this whole time she's been... alone...'

Her vision was blurring, and she realized she was crying. “I'm sorry. I thought you flew away.”

Spike hovered over to her, giving her a concerned eye. “Twilight, what's going on?”

She turned to him, and spared him one last smile. “I'm going to go find Celestia.” Then she turned back to the balcony, and ran.

Time slowed, and she pushed herself forward. Her hooves hit the stone as her resolve hardened, she broke into a gallop as her doubts broke away. Spike and the guard behind her called out in alarm, but she had already hit the stone again in her second stride, already rearing her front legs up, already jumping over the marble balustrade.

She was flying, wind whipping past her face, stinging her eyes and drying her tears, the castle falling away behind her.

She was falling, down, down towards the darkness of the night, towards the roar of the unknown, and...

Towards Celestia.

Composure, Chapter 7, end.