About halfway through the night, the thunderstorm stopped, as suddenly as it had come. Within an hour, the clouds had broken up, their fury spent, allowing the stars to shine again. Shining Armour glanced nervously up at the sky as he drove in another tent peg, half-expecting it to cloud back over, or for lightning to strike from the clear sky. He wouldn’t have been surprised; over the last couple hours, lightning had struck around them furiously, igniting fires in the grass that were almost immediately extinguished by the pounding rain.
Shining shook his head and drove another tent peg into the soggy ground, looking for anything to distract him from his thoughts. And from the headache that was starting up behind his eyes.
“You look like you’re waiting to be executed,” Fairweather said dryly from behind him. “Relax. The storm’s over.”
It’s not the storm I’m worried about, Shining almost said. Instead, he just grunted, pounding in another peg. It went in almost too easily; despite them only having been there for a few minutes, the ground was already churned into a muddy mess.
Fairweather sighed. “I’m sure she’s fine.”
Shining didn’t look up. “Is there any chance at all that Blaze is wrong?”
“If she said he went to Ponyville, then he went to Ponyville. Blaze… she’s a few things, but wrong isn’t usually one of them.” Fairweather fidgeted. “You know, there might be a better reason for going there. It’s a small country town, out of the way, easy to disappear in. He may just be lying low.”
Shining chuckled, slinging his bedroll into the tent. He’d already lined the floor with spruce and cedar boughs, but the damp would probably sneak in anyway. “I really wish I could believe that,” he replied. “But you know as well as I do how big a target the Elements are. They might be the only real threat to this thing! And here we are, setting up camp a league from Ponyville, for no other reason than because someone doesn’t want to cause a panic!” He realized that his voice had risen to a shout and hastily shut his mouth.
“And what was your plan?” Fairweather asked, his voice icy cold. “Charge in, all by your lonesome, and ram a lance down his throat? Endanger yourself, the mission, and everyone around you? That’s not the Captain of the Guard thinking, it’s a milk-drinking colt that read one too many fairy tales!”
Shining looked away, chastised. He tried to think of something to say to salvage his pride, but nothing came to mind.
“Listen,” Fairweather continued, more softly. “I know you’re used to trusting your instincts. But sometimes, you need to take a wee bit more care.”
“So we sit here and do nothing,” Shining replied, scowling. If there was one thing he hated, it was waiting for something to happen.
“We bide our time,” Fairweather shot back. “Luna’s searching the dreamscape every chance she gets. If an’ when she finds a trace of it, we’ll know roughly where it is. Then we can come in quickly and precisely.”
“I still think I should at least warn Twilight,” Shining said. “She deserves to know. She might even be able to help us!”
“Maybe,” Fairweather agreed. “But if we telegraph our presence, we lose our only chance.”
“And we might lose our chance if we sit here doing nothing!” Shining snapped back.
Fairweather sighed. “Ah know this is difficult for ye. It goes against every one o’ your instincts. But Ah’ve been in situations like this before.” He put a hoof on Shining’s shoulder. “Ah’m no’ asking you to agree with me. But Ah am asking you to trust me.”
Shining shook his head. “What if she’s wrong?” he asked quietly. “If she doesn’t even know what we’re chasing—”
“We’ll manage,” Fairweather cut in. “Migh’ end up being a wee bit messier than we thought, but we’ll manage.”
“I hope so,” Shining said.
Fairweather held up a hoof. “You hear that? Wingbeats.”
Shining cocked his head. “I don’t hear anything,” he replied.
“Shh…” Fairweather closed his eyes, rotating his ears. A frown crossed his scarred face. “I don’t hear it any more,” he admitted, opening his eyes. “Must have been my imagination.”
A cold gust of wind blew through the camp, and both shivered. “We should grab some shut-eye,” Fairweather remarked. “Remember what I told you, lad.” With that, he sauntered off toward his tent at the far corner of a camp, whistling jauntily through the gap in his teeth as if nothing had happened.
Shining turned toward his own tent, dreading the prospect of sleeping on the soaked ground. Everyone in the camp would be achey and irritable come morning. Just another perk of field work. At least he’d had the foresight to place his tent underneath a sizeable oak tree. The ground would be slightly drier there.
As he passed under the branches, a dark shape suddenly swung down, fastening a foreleg over his mouth. Shining’s yelp of alarm escaped weakly through his nose, and he glared up at his captor, running through a list of offensive spells…
Shining blinked, letting the magic die away. “Blaze?” he mumbled against the foreleg.
The pegasus responded by putting a hoof to her mouth in a shushing gesture. After releasing him, she leapt down from the branch with catlike grace, landing with barely a rustle. She sank low, catching his eye again, and gestured with her head to somewhere away from the camp.
“What’s going on?” Shining whispered, following her through the grasses. “What are you doing out?”
“I found something,” Blaze replied, slinking through a patch of goldenrod. The pungent pollen made Shining’s eyes water, making him glad he didn’t suffer from allergies. “You need to see this.”
“No, I mean why are you out of the camp in the first place?”
Blaze snorted. “You can go ahead and spend the night with a bunch of overmuscled, uneducated stallions if you want. I’d prefer something a little more isolated.”
“What the hay is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Now be quiet. Someone might hear us.”
“Why do we have to sneak out?” Shining asked, immediately before walking through a spider web. He stopped, biting off a curse, and raised a hoof to wipe the sticky threads from his face.
“I don’t trust Luna, Dad will want to tell her, and I don’t know anyone else,” Blaze said, carefully bending a sapling out of the way.
“You don’t really know me either,” Shining remarked.
“I know your face, your station, and your reputation,” Blaze shot back. “And while I don’t necessarily agree with everything you’ve done, you seem a little more open-minded than Fairweather. Besides, even if Dad doesn’t tell someone, I have a feeling he’ll just humour me no matter what I say. He did that when I was a kid; don’t see why he’d change his habits now.”
Shining blinked. “Fairweather? Humour you? You sure we’re talking about the same pony?”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Blaze replied. “That was one of the reasons I ran away.”
“You ran away,” Shining said flatly.
“I had my reasons, and no, I don’t want to talk about it. Now be quiet. We’re almost there.”
They finally came to a stop before a small hillock crested by a sizeable boulder. Lichen spiderwebbed across the rock’s surface, and a small cedar tree grew from a cleft at the top.
“So what did you find here?” Shining asked, yanking a burr out of his mane.
“I told you I’d lost the trail back there, but had a pretty good idea where it was going,” Blaze stated. “Well, I found it again.”
Shining’s heart soared. “Does it lead away from Ponyville?”
“No, it definitely leads toward Ponyville,” Blaze replied, pointing to some shallow depressions in the dirt. Shining’s spirits fell and shattered on the cold, muddy ground.
“He’s moving slowly,” Blaze continued, “And he’s wandering a bit, but he hasn’t deviated much. But I found something way more interesting over here.”
She lead Shining to a small grouping of tall, leafy, purple-flowered plants. They looked normal, except… “Has something been chewing on these?” Shining asked. “It looks like something’s been taking bites out of it.”
“That’s because our stallion did,” Blaze replied. “This is alfalfa. Not the tastiest plant out there, but it’s sweeter than plain old grass. Not bad when you fry it with some butter, either.” She reached out, snapped off an untouched sprig, and popped it in her mouth.
“So he got hungry,” Shining said dryly. “Sorry, but I’m not sure how that–”
“Look at the pattern,” Blaze cut in. “It’s random. If you were munching on something like this, you’d keep it to one plant, right? You wouldn’t spread it around. This looks more like the pattern a deer or goat might leave. And look over here.” She pointed to an area where patches of grass were torn up. “Again, standard grazing behaviour. This stallion we’re chasing… with the meandering trail, and this, I’m starting to think he’s not fully sapient.”
Shining shook his head. “Blaze, that doesn’t make any sense. We… equines have been cognitive for almost a million years.”
“That’s exactly what I’m thinking!” Blaze shot back. “But this behaviour doesn’t fit. It’s just… wrong.” She shivered. “This all feels wrong.”
Shining sighed. “Maybe it is, and maybe it isn’t. We have no way of knowing until we find him.”
“And what happens when we do find him?” Blaze shot back. “I’m not stupid, you know! You say you want to bring him back to Canterlot, but I can guess what Luna’s thinking. She’s out for blood, for pony’s sake!”
“She wouldn’t…” Shining started halfheartedly, and trailed off. Did he really know what Luna would and wouldn’t do? She was unpredictable, still trapped in a way of thinking hundreds of years old.
Bring him back to me. Use whatever means you deem necessary.
Shining thought furiously. That was exactly what Celestia had said. She never said to bring him back alive.
“We should get back to the camp,” Shining said abruptly. “We can sort all this out in the morning.”
“You go ahead,” Blaze retorted. “I like it just fine over here. Besides, I might take another look at this trail. See if I can find out anything more.”
“What if I ordered you to go back?”
Blaze smirked. “I’m not part of the Guard. Technically, I’m a civilian consultant, so you don’t have any real authority over me.”
Shining gritted his teeth. She was right. He could make strongly worded recommendations, but Blaze had no reason to follow them. She’s the best there is, he told himself. You can put up with a bit of insubordination for that.
“Shining?” He turned around, meeting Blaze’s suddenly intense eyes. “This stays between you and me. I don’t know what to make of it myself, and I don’t want to know what the others will. If you even hint at what I found…”
There was something in those eyes that said disobeying her would be a very poor choice. Shining blinked. “I won’t,” he found himself saying.
Blaze smiled. “Good. Now get back to the camp before someone misses you.”
Ignoring the sudden urge to smack her, Shining turned tail and left, his thoughts a tangled whirl.
Before he knew it, he found himself at the entrance to Fairweather’s tent. He paused for a moment, unsure as to why he’d even come that way.
“You migh’ as well come in,” Fairweather said from inside. “It’s damned spooky, havin’ you stand there.”
Shining jumped, and hesitantly poked his head in. Fairweather gestured toward a camp stool, laying his files and a lump of soapstone on a table.
Both were silent until Shining had sat down. Fairweather picked up the soapstone carving again and started worrying away at it with a fretsaw. “So what’d Blaze tell you out there?” he asked.
Shining tensed and relaxed again within a moment. It didn’t surprise him in the slightest that Fairweather knew what had happened. “She has some… strange ideas,” he admitted.
Fairweather sighed, sawing off a small piece of stone. His hooves were already covered with fine dust. “She’s been suspicious of a few things ever since she first found the trail.”
“I think she has more than just suspicions,” Shining replied. “It’s just… hard to believe.”
“Belief’s a funny thing,” Fairweather said, examining the stone critically. “Can be easy to find, or hard, depending on ‘ow unfamiliar it is.”
“She was worried that you’d humour her,” Shining said.
Fairweather looked up from the carving. “Ah expect she asked you not to repeat anything she said.”
Shining swallowed. “If she told you what she thought, would you believe her? Or just…”
“When a little filly gives you a drawing, you humour her,” Fairweather said. “When a grown-up mare has a serious theory, you believe her.” He shook his head. “Ah won’t ask you t’ betray her trust. Even if our target isn’t what it seems, it makes no difference.”
Shining grunted. “She seems to think differently.”
Fairweather let out a heavy sigh. “Blaze is… she has her mother’s spirit. But she had a habit of jumping headfirst down a hole without even checking to see what’s in it. I’m not saying she’s wrong, but… we need to look at all sides here.”
Shining was silent for a moment. “She mentioned that she ran away,” he finally said.
“A mistake on my part,” Fairweather replied. “I just didn’t want to lose her. So I tried to keep her safe. But I was really just tying her down. And Blaze… she’s not the kind of pony to be tied down.” He shrugged. “So she ran. Went and made a name for herself. I didn’t see her for six years. When she came back, she’d…” Fairweather blinked, clearing his throat. “She’d gone and grown up.”
Shining went over and patted his friend on the shoulder. Fairweather pushed him off, and took a deep, shaky breath. “No sense worrying about it,” he said gruffly. “I cannae change it, can I? Now keep your ‘ead where it needs to be. We ‘ave a job to do, remember?”
Shining shook his head. “I’m still wondering if we’re going about this the right way.”
Fairweather sighed. “It does nae matter what it’s capable of. We need to find it, and stop it from repeating what happened in Canterlot.”
“Aren’t you curious at all?” Shining asked. “I mean, we should know what we’re going after, right?”
“Not another word,” Fairweather snapped. “Ah know what you’re thinking. And it won’t work. Ah already tried asking Luna ‘bout what she knew.”
Shining slumped. That had been his exact idea. “And?”
“She told me it’s a soul-eating demon from the depths of Tartarus. What in blazes do you think ‘appened? She didn’t say a word. Rattled off some nonsense about it not being important, and sent me on my way.” He waved a hoof. “But if you want to try, go ahead. May as well.”
“Why would she not tell us?” Shining asked.
“Maybe she doesn’t want to frighten us,” Fairweather replied. “Keep us ignorant, and use us as a distraction. Or maybe it’s some dark secret she donnae want released.”
Or she knows just as much as we do, Shining thought. “I’m going to see what she has to say,” he said.
“Good luck,” Fairweather said. “Ye’ll need it.”
----------
Dreams flitted through Luna’s awareness like thousands of pinpricks of light. Each contained their own little world, a tight bundle of emotions, images and sensations. Every so often, Luna would dip into one of them, spreading peace through a nightmare, or reassurance through a dream wrought with anxiety.
It was familiar, soothing work. Over the years, Luna had turned her unique awareness into something more akin to meditation, putting her mind at rest even as she eased the dreams of others.
Now, her mind was all purpose. Dreams were the mind’s way of ordering and categorizing everything a pony had experienced that day. Tonight, her awareness was focused exclusively on Ponyville. If someone had seen their target, she would know.
Without warning, the wards around her tent suddenly went off, and her trance vanished like a pricked bubble. Luna blinked a couple times to refocus her eyes and directed a cold glare at the pony pushing his way into the tent. “I wasn’t aware we were ready to break camp, Shining Armour.”
“We’re not,” Shining said. “I wanted to ask you something. About what we’re going after.”
Luna fought the urge to sigh. I thought you might ask about this. “May I ask what aroused your curiosity?”
“A little while ago—” Shining cut himself off. “I just feel like I deserve to know what it is we’re chasing. What he’s capable of, what kind of being he is… just something. I don’t like being left in the dark, and any of the ponies I brought along will tell you the same thing.” He hesitated. “Besides, I feel like I should know what’s in Ponyville with Twilight.”
Luna thought for a moment, wording out a safe response. “All you need to know is that our quarry is sufficiently dangerous to require the utmost caution.”
Shining shook his head. “With all due respect, that was good enough for me yesterday. It’s not good enough now. You might be a Princess, but I’m still Captain of the Guard, and I need to know exactly what it is that I’m supposed to protect you from.”
Luna almost snorted. Protect her? In all likelihood, it would be the other way around.
Shining waited a moment for an answer. When Luna didn’t give one, he asked, “Is this related to what you and Celestia were working on?”
Fighting to keep her face neutral, Luna allowed herself a slow blink. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be more clear. My sister and I have many duties, and–”
“None of that,” Shining snapped. “I’ve heard the rumours, and I saw the look you were giving Princess Celestia in your rooms. Whatever you were working on, she put it into action too early, didn’t she? And what we’re chasing is the aftermath.”
Luna let out a deep, rolling chuckle. “And I was starting to wonder when you’d show some backbone. Very well. I’ll humour you.” She paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. “Are you familiar with the many-worlds school of thought?”
“I think Twilight might have mentioned it once or twice. It sounds familiar.”
“One interpretation is that there are an infinite number of worlds, each representing a different set of probabilities. In that school of thought, nothing is impossible. Only incredibly improbable.”
“Hold up,” Shining said, chuckling nervously. “I think I know where this is going. Are you trying to tell me that this thing is from another universe?”
“Part of our studies was to attempt to create a window to another realm of possibility. It was intended to be a joint effort, and not to be attempted for quite some time. But it would seem that my sister became overzealous. As for the rest… well, I’m sure you know.”
Shining reflexively reached up to touch his bandage. “But what is it?”
“We don’t know,” Luna said. “We have no idea what it is, what drives it or what it is capable of. We only know that it does not belong here, and should be removed immediately.”
Shining shook his head in bewilderment. “And when we find him? Princess Celestia ordered us to bring him back. How in Tartarus are we supposed to—”
Luna gave him a cool stare. “That thing nearly killed my sister,” she said. “What makes you think I have any intention of bringing it back alive?”
Shining blinked in surprise, unable to summon any words. Luna turned away from him. “That said, Celestia spoke to me before I left. Due to the delicate nature of the situation, I have been asked to exercise some restraint. Rest assured, I will not, as you seem inclined to believe, destroy it on sight.” However satisfying that may be. “Restraining it will be difficult, but not impossible.”
Shining obviously saw her face darken. “But you don’t like that,” he replied.
I suppose it doesn’t take a court Inquisitor, Luna thought wryly. “No,” she said. “I do not. I personally believe it was a mistake to even let it come here, and that it should be eradicated as soon as possible. I think Celestia’s wish to study it further is idiocy, and endangers herself and the entire land.”
She looked back at Shining. “You are wondering why I’m telling you all this, aren’t you? Especially after I sent Fairweather away without so much as a hint.”
Shining nodded jerkily. “A little bit.”
“We… share a common concern,” Luna said hesitantly. “You are worried about a sister, and I… am worried about a friend. Twilight was the first one to show me any compassion when I last visited Ponyville, and…” She cut herself off and swallowed. “Fairweather’s inactivity is not helping. I understand that we must approach the situation carefully, but there must be some way to at least assess matters.”
Shining hesitated, looking like he might want to say something. “I should get back to my tent,” he finally said. “Try to get some sleep.” It was obviously not what he’d previously been about to say.
Luna turned her face away to hide her smile. It seemed that her words had taken root. She gave a wordless nod to send Shining on his way.
I will not allow you to continue your mistake, dear sister, she thought fiercely. There is simply too much to lose. And if it required going behind the back of everyone else, then so be it.
----------
Twilight wasn’t quite sure what woke her up first: a sunbeam focused precisely on her closed eyes, or the incessant pounding on the door. She groaned, rolling over and pressing a pillow over her ears. The thunderstorm had kept her up well into the night, and an early-morning visitor was not something she was ready to contend with.
Blessedly, the pounding on the door stopped. Twilight sighed, relaxing and preparing to drift off again… and a stone pocked off her bedroom window.
Teeth grinding together, Twilight waited through three more stones, before flinging the covers off and throwing the window open. Her angry shout of “What?” died in her throat as she saw Applejack standing at ground level, a pile of small pebbles beside her.
“Twilight,” Applejack said, sighing in relief and dropping the pebble in her hoof. “Thank Celestia. Ah was startin’ to think you weren’t there.”
Twilight frowned, still trying to clear the cobwebs from inside her skull. “Why are you here this early? Is something wrong?”
“Yes. No. Ah… just come with me. There’s something you need to see.”
Twilight’s eyes widened. “The lightning storm last night! You have several sandpits near your property, right? Did you find a couple fulgurites?”
“Fulga-what? You know, never mind. Just come on.”
Her curiosity stoked to an inferno, Twilight hurriedly tugged a brush through her mane and splashed cold water over her face. Spike stumbled out from her room in the meantime, rubbing en eye. “Uh…” he said, watching her rush around the library. “Did I miss something?”
“Applejack needs me,” Twilight explained, bolting down an apple. “Mind the library while I’m gone.”
With that, she was out the door. “Okay,” Spike said belatedly to an empty library.
“So,” Twilight said breathlessly outside. “What’d you find? Or did something happen?”
“You’ll find out when we get there,” Applejack replied, glancing around uneasily. Twilight had no idea why. The streets were nearly empty, on account of the early hour. “And, uh, keep quiet about it until we’re on the farm.”
Staying silent on the long walk to the farm was probably one of the hardest things Twilight had ever done. Whatever Applejack had found, it was something big, and her refusal to say anything only made things worse.
They finally stopped beside a row of stables near one of the orchards. The stables were usually home to several cows, who were currently grazing in some of the neighbouring fields. “Twilight,” Applejack finally said, stopping beside one of the stables. “Do you trust me?”
Twilight blinked. “Of course I do,” she replied. “What kind of question is that?”
“No,” Applejack snapped, fixing Twilight with an uncomfortably direct stare. “Ah need to know you trust me.”
The implication was there. Applejack was talking about the kind of implicit trust reserved for the closest of friends. It was the trust that no matter what, meant one would be standing with the other. Twilight swallowed, suddenly uneasy. “I trust you, Applejack,” she said.
The earth pony heaved a sigh, seemingly relieved. “Here we go, then,” she said, flinging open the door.
Inside the stable, a pony lay on a bed of straw. It raised its head as the door open, fixing Twilight with a liquid gaze.
Twilight didn’t look for any longer. She flung her weight against the door and slammed it shut, breathing heavily. “Oh my gosh,” she said quietly. “You’ve kidnapped somepony. I thought you found a fulgurite, and you kidnapped somepony.”
“Twilight, this ain’t what it looks like.”
“Really?” Twilight snapped. “You have a pony locked in your stables. I think I have a pretty good idea what it looks like!”
“Calm down and listen to me,” Applejack said.
“I am calm!” Twilight shrieked, pacing rapidly. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and slowly released it. “I’m calm,” she repeated in a more even tone. Her eyes flashed open, and she fixed Applejack with a glare. “Now you’d better explain what I just saw.”
“It’s hard to explain,” Applejack said sheepishly. “He… he looks like a pony, but he’s not one. Doesn’t act like one, I mean.”
“Start from the beginning,” Twilight said evenly. “Where did you find him?”
“Last night, during the thunderstorm,” Applejack replied. “He was just walking along the path, like he was lost. Ah thought he was lost at first, but then… he wasn’t acting right. And then I started noticing he didn’t look right.”
“Applejack, this is a thinking, feeling pony,” Twilight groaned. “It doesn’t matter how they act! You can’t just lock one up because he’s acting a little weird!”
“He has no cutie marks,” Applejack burst out.
Twilight paused. “That’s impossible,” she finally said. “You always get your cutie mark before you’re fully grown. There’s no way around it.”
“Take a look,” Applejack said. “Flanks are as blank as Applebloom’s.”
Against her better judgement, Twilight opened the door again. The stallion still hadn’t moved, content to munch away on a basket full of hay. Sure enough, his flanks didn’t bear a mark. And, now that she was looking, Twilight was cataloguing several other noticeable differences. His head was longer than most ponies’ she’d seen, the colouration of his coat was more drab and less uniform, the shape of the legs was almost completely different…
She took a step in, prompting the stallion to raise his head again and fix her with that same liquid stare. “Hi there,” she said awkwardly. “What’s your name?”
The stallion said nothing. He just continued chewing, staring at her.
“Can you understand me?” Twilight asked. No response. Not a flicker of recognition in those deep, soulful eyes.
Growing impatient, Twilight lit her horn and reached out with magic, performing a simple spell intended to assess a pony’s physical state. But when the tendrils of magic reached the pony, they… recoiled. There was really no other word for it. The spell immediately fell apart, unraveling into nothing.
Twilight jerked backwards, panting, sweat suddenly beading on her forehead. In the instant before the magic had failed, she’d felt something horrible. The pony was a complete magical void, a total antithesis to the force that ran through everything in Equestria, whether it was alive or not. “What in the world did you find?” she asked, shivering despite the heat. The sweat on her forehead felt like it was about to freeze.
“I was hoping you could tell me,” Applejack replied, oblivious to her friend’s condition.
Twilight swallowed, suddenly feeling like she was going to be sick. “I don’t know. I just… I don’t know.” Before she even know what was happening, she lurched toward the far side of the stall and retched.