Among the grandest structures of the Equine territories of the world, the Grand Palace of Pearis was considered to be among the most beautiful. In fact, it had long been considered the second most beautiful Equine structure in the world. The reemergence of the Crystal Empire had moved it back down to third, but with the destruction of Canterlot Castle, the Pearisians found themselves back in second place again. Though it really didn't matter to the ponies of Pearis where they stood on that list. To them, their palace was truly the most beautiful construction in existence.
Or so the driver of Rarity's carriage said as they came within sight of the fortress, visible at the far end of the thoroughfare. The massive palace's elegant and narrow towers could be seen from most anywhere in the city. With its walls a glistening white and its gold-leaf rooftop tiles magically infused to prevent erosion, Rarity had to admit from her carriage vantage point that it was truly a dazzling sight.
Turning a corner, the carriage came onto a rough cobblestone street lined on either side with an assortment of shops and stalls, all full of colorful ponies. The peddlers cried the wonders of their wares to other ponies on hoof who passed them by on the street. Those ponies were laden down with saddlebags of various designs: some empty, and others bulging at the seams. Several ponies were lounging in benches at an outdoor cafe that Rarity herself had frequented on more than one occasion. And everywhere, ponies were shopping.
Rarity could almost not believe how much shopping the Pearisian ponies did on a daily basis. Of course, since she had arrived here in the city, she had found herself going out to the shops more and more herself. Although that barely even counted. After all, Rarity could scarcely be blamed for wanting to keep an eye out for the latest fashion trends while she did her job, now could she?
The mad hustle and bustle of the ponies as they went about their business drew Rarity's attention, and she found herself tuning the driver out; he had not stopped talking about the apparent wonders of the palace, and had instead begun to elaborate on its Gothic-style architecture, the vast number of hours of labor which had once been put into it, and something about the keystone of a flying buttress.
Of course, Rarity had not begun to ignore the poor fellow - oh no, a lady would never be so rude. In fact, Rarity had sensed upon entering this carriage that this was what her driver needed: to feel more knowledgeable than those around him by sharing that knowledge with his passengers. So she played the role of the curious tourist, asking the occasional question, giving the occasional oooh and aaah to the statistics he rattled off as he pulled the carriage down the street.
Yet while she did so, she stretched out her thoughts, trying in vain to sense more clearly where the future needed her next. Once she was through with this horrid carriage ride, at least.
But it was so hard! If she thought casually about the future, she usually knew what she should do. Whether it was to appear at a certain social event where she would conveniently run into the very important pony she needed to see, or something as simple as getting this carriage driver to talk about his city, she always simply got the feeling what needed to be done, and then did it.
Now, why listening to the driver lecture about keystones and flying buttresses would be important, Rarity really had no idea. Maybe he needed to be in a good mood for meeting somepony later in the day, maybe she needed to hear something he had to say, or maybe it was something else entirely which hadn't yet presented itself. Long Sight could be picky like that.
The problem was, if Rarity tried to determine the specific reason why she had to do something, finding the answer with her Sight was like trying to grab mist from the air: the harder she tried to grab on to it, the more quickly is slipped away from her.
Unfortunately, the Lady Falalauria's journal about Long Sight had only covered her personal experiences, rather than all that could be done with the skill. And the Deerish lady had true Long Sight; unlike Rarity, she hadn't needed to work with somepony else to learn the future. No, for her, all of time was just there.
Rarity on the other hoof depended on Applejack's help to truly see the future, though she still didn't really understand why. And since Applejack was busy managing the home front - whatever that was supposed to mean - it seemed that, for the time being at least, her sense of need was all she could count on to help her. Which, she added wryly, wasn't really so bad. It was so hard to be couth with Applejack around.
Rarity still fondly remembered her brief visit to Shimmerwood Forest all those years ago, where she had first met the Deerish Lady: the blanket of leaves overhead, the tall, thick tree trunks scattered throughout the landscape, and the graceful deer scampering between the trees, lit only by the giant crystals that hung in the air as they changed from silver to gold and then back again with the passing of time. There was even that birth ceremony she had happened to walk in on, where she heard that beautiful and sad song that had so well seemed to define the history of that once proud race. Even simply thinking about it made her blush a bit; she had just been so young and naive back in Falalauria's shadowed woodland home, compared to the sophisticated Lady that Rarity had since become!
Of course, that was where is had all started for her. That was where Rarity had first learned of the power to see the future she and the Lady both shared. For the Lady, it was an ability which came naturally to her mixed heritage of red and white tailed deer. For Rarity, it was gained through her being the living embodiment of the element of generosity.
And yes, the Lady may have called the gift a curse all those years ago, but Rarity had resolved not to see it as such. After all, if her special gift could help others in need and it was within her power to give that help, who was she to deny it to them?
Especially if it gets the ambassador to sign that contract giving Equestria those supplies it needs, she thought, a sly smile spreading on her lips.
She had been here in Prance waiting for her meeting with the Prime Maneister for six weeks now, and finally everything was about to come together. Before she left Equestria, Rarity had worked with Applejack and discovered that these supplies would be needed for the war. Since then, everything she had been doing had been to ensure Equestria got those supplies by the time they were needed.
And here it was, with only one day to go before Rarity would meet the Prime Maneister, and she found herself finally feeling good about her chances. The pieces were in place, the stage was set, and everypony in town was abuzz with rumors that Rarity had been delicately setting in place.
The cabinet is bound to have heard the rumors by now, she thought with pride, about the Griffon Dominion's air-fleet mobilizing, and how the Equestrian pegasi are poised to spread their enhanced crop season techniques in exchange for supplies, as they wait for the highest bidder. Ooh, and I'm still purring about that little stroke of genius I had, to mention to those gossipy hens down at The Coop about the Gildedalean ranchers' urgent need of access to new Prancelands for grazing, and how the Great Dragon Migration was now believed to have changed its flight plans from Equestria in a last-minute deal brokered with the Equestrian Princess.
Yes, Rarity thought with a happy mental sigh as her apartment came into sight at the far end of the street, that should get the Prime Maneister jumpy enough to be willing to negotiate! Except...
Rarity suddenly felt uneasy. Not about the Prime Maneister; she felt quite confident about that. No, this was something else. It was as if...
As if every hair of her expertly styled mane was trying to stand up at once. Instinctively, she grabbed her pink, floral hat in one hoof, suddenly feeling as if it were about to blow away despite the lack of a breeze inside her dim carriage cabin.
Rarity began to shift uncomfortably. Not the cushions too! She thought, feeling even more unsettled.
Shifting to the opposite seat of her carriage, she found that it, too, now felt as if it were made of lumpy rocks.
And so, not knowing what else to do, Rarity just stood there in the middle of the cabin as it bumped down the street.
Oh no. Now even the floor feels lumpy! What is happening to me?!
Forcing herself to take several deep, calming breaths, Rarity looked quickly around the cabin as she fidgeted and squirmed in place.
Nothing out of place! she frantically thought.
Her deep breathing growing more intense, Rarity began to see spots in her vision; she wished she had found a way to bring her favorite panic attack couch on this particular outing.
I need air, came the frantic thought. Yes, that must be it!
Pulling the window curtain back, she gasped desperately, as if coming up for air from underwater.
Nothing! No better at all! she thought again, as she eyed over the ponies who went past her carriage suspiciously.
So what is it? What has suddenly put me on edge like this? It's almost like...
With a shock, Rarity realized. The feeling wasn't external. It was coming from the place in her mind she went when she tried to see the future.
Nodding to herself in certainty at this sudden diagnosis, Rarity pulled her head back in and drew the curtain closed behind her with a quick magic jerk, before sitting back down on her cushioned bench. Taking another deep breath, she closed her eyes and reached out with her mind. Reached out to the area where she caught glimpses and flashes of future need, and the part she was to play in it.
And there it was. She didn't know how else to describe it but, she felt it. So strong, and so far off, but almost calling out to her. A want. A desire. A Need.
But what is it? Where is it coming from? What could need something that strongly? she thought with growing concern, feeling that itch intensify.
Not knowing what exactly she was doing, Rarity tried to call out, to reach out with her mind to that feeling in the distance. What are you? What is your Need?
She sat there in the carriage, not moving, barely even daring to breathe, as she waited for...
She realized suddenly that she didn't know what she was waiting for. This had never happened to her. She had never had a panic attack because of a feeling about the future before. And Falalauria had certainly never mentioned anything like this in her book.
And then it came again, the strength of the need almost overwhelming her with its magnitude. It was an overwhelming avalanche of importance and urgency and desperation, but among that mass of emotion and images she discerned two words.
COME HOME
My Celestia! Rarity gasped in shock. This is need of a strength I never imagined! Compared to this need, all of my work and goals to help Equestria might as well not exist!"
"Ma chérie?" the driver called back to Rarity, the carriage lurching to a sudden stop. "Mademoiselle, are you well? I thought I heard you cry out from your cabin. Do you require assistance?"
"No!" Rarity blinked in surprise at how unsteady her voice sounded, and that she had spoken aloud at all, so she cleared her throat and tried again. "No! Non monsieur! Everything is all right back here, thank you for your concern. Please do continue! I... I was just taken aback by what you were saying about cornice molding, it was simply fascinating!"
After a few more moments of hesitation, the driver pulled forward again, onward to Rarity's destination.
As she sat inside the cabin, Rarity's mind reeled. That Need had been just so powerful! She actually found herself wondering for a moment how everypony on the street outside her cabin had avoided reacting like she had to a force that strong.
Realizing the foolishness of that thought, Rarity began to take slow calming breaths again, forcing her racing heart to approach a more normal rhythm. As she did so, she went over and over again in her head what she had just felt. But try as she might, she couldn't seem to make coiffure or coat of it.
She remained fixed in this distraught state until at last the carriage stopped in front of her apartment: a quaint little duplex near the market.
As Rarity stepped down from the cabin and thanked the driver for his fascinating information, she dropped an extra five bits in his proffered satchel, all the while fighting to keep her composure. As he pulled away down the street, she entered her apartment and her calm facade stretched towards a grimace. As she closed the door behind her with a thud, the last of Rarity's composure crumbled.
Hanging up her hat, Rarity trotted across the room and collapsed into her favorite couch: a soft, red velvet affair with a gold silk pattern of falling leaves woven into the seams. She wasn't sure how long exactly she lay there. Perhaps minutes, perhaps hours.
It doesn't matter, does it? she thought gloomily. Nothing I have been doing this whole trip has mattered one whole hoof! I try so hard to help, to save Equestria, to relieve some of Twilight's stress, to get some food and blankets for refugees still living in shacks, and now this.
Just two months ago, the future told me I needed to take this trip. To leave everypony behind, live off in Pearis by myself, and I don't even have Opal to keep me company anymore! Need. BAH! What about me? What about my needs? Why do I have to do this, fill this need for - let's face it, Rarity - a voice in your head, and now just like that, I must return to Equestria. But why? WHY?!
Considering her plan of action for another moment, Rarity sat up on the sofa, set her jaw, closed her eyes, and nodded to herself.
Why? She sent it out. She sent it to that knot in her mind. She sent it with her loneliness, her determination, her lack of remaining patience, and even a bit of her curiosity. Why do I have to go back to Equestria? What can possibly be so important that it can't wait until my work here is done?
Again, Rarity didn't know if it would do anything. Falalauria mentioned in her journal that Rarity could possibly use her own sense of need to control her ability. But so far, it had never really worked for her.
This won't work, what am I even doing? There is no way-
A sudden need overwhelmed all of Rarity's thoughts, and she was thrown back into the sofa by the force of it.
She was a dot. A dot in a dot in a dot in a dot of infinity. And all around her was activity. She saw bands of light, eddies of dark, cyclones of noise and planets of odors. She felt color. She heard smell. Whoever and whatever she had been was gone. And then, just as quickly as it came...
It was gone.
Rarity was back in her apartment. She was on her floor. She was covered in sweat. Her every muscle burned from being clenched so hard. And she knew.
This changes everything, she thought, getting to her feet and rushing to grab a suitcase. She was no longer uncertain, not in the slightest. Despite her exhaustion mental and physical, her movements were now filled with cool resolve. This need puts everything else I have been doing to shame. And it must be dealt with at once. No more galas, or charity luncheons, or even operas until this need had been met. And so soon! Somehow, resolving this need must start tonight.
She needed to prepare. Tomorrow she was not seeing the Prime Maneister at all. She would reschedule. She now knew that making the Prime Maneister stew would only help things for her, and after making her wait for so long, she felt a particular pleasure in knowing that she could now make him wait instead.
No, instead of meeting the Prime Maneister, Rarity now knew for sure, she would be leaving Prance in the morning.
But she wasn't going alone. She knew. She knew because she had seen it, a single flash of color pulsing from that mass of need that she had been able to understand.
Rainbow Dash was coming for dinner, and she was in a hurry.
•
The moment that Pip laid eyes on The Right Track, he knew it was exactly the kind of place he had been looking for. A three story structure of whitewashed wood, it had a thatched roof in the Old Ponyville style. Its two large gray stoned chimney stacks standing to either side of the building gave the illusion that they somehow held the entire structure up.
Not to say the building did not appear stable. If anything, the structure gave a stronger sense of stability than most of the buildings that surrounded it, made as they were in the more modern style of red brick walls and metal shingled roofs that the Manehatten architects who permeated the growing city so strongly seemed to favor.
A light poured forth from the large front windows as Pip approached, bathing the cobblestone street in a warm and soothing glow that looked particularly inviting after the light chill of the late evening had begun to settle into him.
Pushing open the front door to the tinkling of a small bell, the low hum of quiet conversation and the smells of freshly baked bread enveloped him. Despite the stress and craziness of the day's events, Pip couldn't help smiling.
The inside of the inn was as warm and inviting as the outside had implied. A smattering of round, wooden tables were spread across the floor, with an assortment of matching wooden chairs to surround them. Some were occupied with ponies deep in conversation, none of whom seemed to notice him entering. Although the faint smell of pipe smoke filled the air and obscured everything in the room in a faint haze, Pip had no problem spying the silhouette of Silver Spoon sitting at a table in the far corner with a mug of cider in hoof and another, untouched one at the empty spot opposite her.
With a nod toward her to let her know he had seen her, Pip went over and joined her, taking the offered seat.
For a moment, neither one of them said a thing. The sudden awkwardness of the situation filled the air as thickly as the pipe smoke in the room. Neither of them eyed the other directly; the only sound was that of Pip's cider as he took a long swig.
Very nice, he thought with approval.
Finally, after the silence stretched on for what felt to him as an eternity, he spoke. "So, uh, Silver Spoon... I must say, nice choice of inn! This place seems really cozy."
"Thanks," came her curt reply, not meeting his eye. "This is my regular spot. Not many ponies in here who knew me as a filly. Plus the innkeeper, Berry Punch, has got a pumpkin and black bean soup that is just out of this world."
Pip chuckled. "Normally I would go for something like that, but I just came from dinner with the Apple family, I'm not sure I could survive any more food entering my system."
She chuckled for a moment before cutting off suddenly, looking straight at Pip as she asked defensibly, her silver braid swinging around her face from the force of the twist. "Wait, so that was the urgent business that had you taking off like that earlier today? You just had a dinner reservation with the Apple family?"
Pip started to choke on his mouthful of cider in surprise at the question. After a moment of vigorous gasping, he managed to get out, "Oh, no no no! I had to see Homefront Mana-" Another minute of vigorous coughing interrupted him before he could finish, while Silver Spoon sipped her cider disquietly, pretending not to notice as Pip was leaning over the floor half choking on his drink.
Finally getting some air, Pip continued as he sat back up. "Sorry about that. I had to see HM Applejack rather urgently regarding a developing situation back at base, and today happened to be her day off. I was on my way into town today regardless, so I went ahead and delivered the report to her myself. And anypony who goes up towards the Apple Farm would have to consider themselves lucky to have gotten away from there as quickly as I did, if you know what I mean."
Before the words were out of his mouth all the way, Pip regretted them. Silver Spoon wouldn't know what he would mean: if she was trying to avoid anypony she had bullied as a kid, then she would most certainly have not had dinner at Sweet Apple Acres. And if she did know about the Apples' generosity, the fact that she hadn't been over there would just be another barb reminding her of her unsavory behavior as a child.
Surprisingly however, rather than curl up and get defensive again, Silver Spoon laughed.
Not knowing what to make of it, Pip just sat in silence while she chuckled, wondering if he should be concerned or confused.
Finally, much like his choking, she eventually stopped laughing. Seeing the look on his face, however, seemed to renew her mirth to a new level, and she doubled over laughing all the harder.
Eventually, Pip could take it no more, and he asked, "Okay, what is so funny? Or are you having some kind of a nervous breakdown?"
After a few more seconds of fading laughter, Silver Spoon answered. "Oh no, sorry about that Pipsqueak, I actually do know what you are talking about. I had dinner over with the Apple family a couple years back when I was returning a silver pot they had received as a wedding gift. It needed a good buffing and a dent taken out of it; it seems that little kid of theirs Zap Apple had knocked it over when he was flying all over the place as a baby. They shoved so much food in me while I was there, I thought I was going to burst at the seams!
"No, I was just laughing at the look on your face," she continued. "You are trying so hard to be a gentlecolt - which is very sweet, by the way - but you get embarrassed so easily! I think we need to put another round in you to loosen you up."
Pip didn't know what to say to that, so he just sat there in silence a few more minutes while Silver Spoon ordered them both some more cider.
As the barmaid, Ruby Punch, came over with a tray of cider perfectly balanced in her teeth, Silver Spoon said in what could almost be considered a whisper, "Thanks for coming, by the way. I was half wondering if you would really show up at all."
Pip grinned back at her, and he was pleased to find it wasn't as hard to do as he had thought it would be.
Over the next few rounds, things did in fact get easier. The tension was broken, and the two began to actually talk.
Silver spoke of her father's declining health over the years: how she had been forced to leave Canterlot University half way through a degree in history in order to come home and help him out in the antiques store. How it was discovered that it was exposure to chemicals used in cleaning the silver that had led to his poor health. And how her father had been forced to retire, still owing money on the business, leaving Silver Spoon to take over.
"After that, I began to realize how foolish I had been, thinking I was better than everypony else around me." She continued. "I mean, I was given everything in my youth. And then, just like that, Diamond Tiara gets married and moves away, and I am stuck in a town full of ponies who dislike me, a town I never planned to live in any more doing a job I never planned to have anything to do with while I took care of my ailing father. That was a healthy dose of perspective, let me tell you Pipsqueak.
"And somehow, the worst part of it is, it was easy to fix the issue with the silver fumes. All I had to do was polish the silver in the alley out back in the fresh air. That's it! My father would still be alive if he had just gone out back to clean the silver!"
Gently, not trying to rock the boat any more, Pip said, "I'm sorry Silver. That sounds pretty rough. And please, call me Pip."
Before much longer, Pip found himself talking about his early days in the royal guard: how disappointed he had been with the Church's strong grip on guarding the Three, and how he had learned that the only way he could even get near where they were being kept was to either try for entry into the inner circles of the church, taking on actual responsibility in it, or to instead become at least a mid-ranking military officer to have high enough clearance to gain access to them regardless.
"So what stopped you taking the church route then?" Silver Spoon interjected mid-story before finishing off her third mug. "If your parents were really active in the church like you say, and as I recall," she added with a lightly teasing tone, "you had some kind of a weird Princess Luna fan club you were running at the time, what stopped you?"
"Okay first off," Pip retorted defensively, "that club was mostly just me and a couple other kids from my class until those Goth kids joined and turned it into a Nightmare Moon cult, at which point it did get weird and I quit. And second, the church is in it for the wrong reasons. They want followers and donations and rituals. I don't think any of them even consider the Three as real, living ponies anymore.
"One of the final straws for me in the church was when they tried to ban Nightmare Night, claiming it was offensive to the church. I never went to another church meeting after they said that. And I don't know how they did it, and I am sure it was the church behind it, but somehow, they managed to get me blacklisted with the military, because I haven't been promoted a single rank since I came back here to the capital. I mean, I'm currently the right-hoof pony of General Dash herself, but every other pony in my position is at least a Captain."
The conversation and drinking continued, and over the course of the next few hours their little table had grown cluttered with empty mugs. Pip could feel the cider going to his head and tongue, and before he even realized it had happened, Pip mentioned seeing the Three a few hours ago and his random trance. He even mentioned 'take the apple, leave the tea', and how he still had no idea what the princess wanted him to do.
"I mean, seriously Silver, I dedicated myself to Luna growing up, but I gave up on her. But then this happens? She has plans for me? Like, wassup with that? How can I... how c'n I, ya know, how do I deal with something like that? Destiny and prophecy and whatever else it was Applejack said?"
The reply from Silver Spoon sounded much less muddled than his was, and he began to suspect he had drunk more than he should have, and certainly much more than she had.
Her voice sounding harsh, Silver replied quickly, "Look Pip, I appreciate you joining me out here tonight, but I am not gonna sit here and listen to any more of this. The Three show up in the middle of a war room? You are put in a trance and told you will be 'forever changed' by Princess Luna's ghost? You have prophetic words spoken through your mouth by the Three, despite you choosing years earlier that the church was full of corrupt liars and quitting? Yeah Pip, I don't really know what to make of that. It seems very strange. It also seems like you have got some nerve telling me such a crazy, bald-faced lie of a story like that to try and impress me, especially after I thought we were starting to build a little trust between us. I guess you really must think me a fool. I'm going home. Good night."
Uncertain exactly what had just happened, Pip watched the spinning image of Silver Spoon trot out of the bar. He sat, confused, in his chair, conflicted over what to do.
I should apologize I suppose... He thought hazily. I can barely believe this all happened myself. I mean, I was in a trance for half of it, I can't even count on my own mind to be sure it really happened that way. Did I really say apple and tea? Did I really wake up looking at glowing apparitions of Shining Armor, Cadence, and at Luna herself? No. No, Applejack said there was truth in those words, a profound truth. Those are the words I said. I believe it. And so will Silver. I'll go talk to her.
But before he could stand up, Pip found the seat opposite himself had become occupied by a strange figure in a black cloak, one who he didn't recall seeing come over or sitting down. Pip began to suspect he really had drunk too much, because no matter how much he tried, he could not get the face of the figure into focus. And his eyes kept sliding off of any part of the figure he tried to look at directly. So instead, feeling dizzy, Pip resolved to look at the table, and the astonishing number of cider mugs that seemed to cover it.
Without thinking, Pip asked the figure, "Would you mind puttin' your hood up? You're makin' me dizzy..."
Pip wasn't quite sure, but he thought he caught a momentary glimpse of a smile, and rows of sharp teeth that definitely did not belonging on a pony.
Chuckling at Pip's discomfort, the figure threw the hood up.
Pip sat there a moment, feeling a bit better. He wasn't quite sure why he felt so nervous though: a friendly-looking pony had just come over to join him. Though why it was keeping its hood up despite the warmth in the inn, Pip wasn't so sure.
Pip would have asked about the hood in his current state, but something about the figure made him suddenly feel very cold, and he found himself thinking he could use a nice thick cloak himself.
Before he could quite decide what to do, the hooded figure looked directly at Pip, its face obscured by the shadows despite the strong lights in the room, and it spoke, its voice rough and firm, yet light and musical at the same time. It was disconcerting, as if more than one voice spoke from the mouth in front of him at the same time.
"I found your story most illuminating, young Lieutenant. However, you will abstain from speaking any further on the subject for the rest of the evening. I'm afraid you won't remember anything that happened from when that tasty-looking young pony left in a huff a few minutes ago until you wake up tomorrow morning with a surprisingly strong headache, and I would hate for anypony to ask you about what you spoke of this evening and risk triggering any latent memories of me being here tonight. That would be most... unpleasant."
Pip found that as this mysterious figure spoke his thinking was getting sharper and sharper. By the time it finished speaking, he felt completely clear-headed, and every ounce of his clear head was screaming at him to gallop away as fast as he could, yet his legs did not react. It was as though the cold that was engulfing him had actually frozen him in place.
The hooded figure smiled; it was barely visible in the depths of the hood, but what he could see of it looked to him like a predator that was deciding whether or not to play with its dinner before it sat down to eat.
It spoke again. "Now then Lieutenant, I have some questions I will be asking you, and you will try your very hardest to answer me with as much truth and accuracy as you are capable of. Again, any attempt on your part not to do so would be most... unpleasant."
And so Pip sat in his booth, unable to move, freely answering every question this cloaked figure asked him, and no matter how much he tried, he could do nothing but tell it the truth.
Pip wanted to shout, to scream, to get somepony else in the inn to look over at him or the barmaid to ask him if he wanted another drink, but he didn't scream, and nopony came over. All Pip could do was wonder how he had failed to notice that the cider he had been drinking had been making him drunk so quickly, when the amount he had consumed should have been enough for him to handle, especially after that large dinner he had consumed.
Until finally, after what seemed an eternity, the hooded figure was done interrogating him. Again, Pip had the uneasy feeling that he was about to be devoured where he sat. Instead, it stood up, and it spoke to Pip again.
"So, my good Lieutenant, you have done well tonight. Unfortunately, I now have to go and deal with your silver haired friend. It is lucky for her that she did not believe you. However, I can't have you trying to leave to warn her that I am coming. And neither can I have you remember any of this meeting in the morning. So when I leave, you will return to your prior state of happy bliss, finish your drink, and go upstairs to sleep it off. It is far too cold out tonight anyways, so don't try to follow me. If you do, it would be most... unpleasant."
With that, the hooded figure rose from its seat, and almost seemed to flow out of the room. As the door swung shut, the ice in Pip's veins melted, and with it, his thoughts again grew fuzzy, despite his every effort to fight against it.
Suddenly wondering why Silver Spoon had left him all alone like that, Pip happily finished his mug of cider, and then stumbled off to order a room for the night from the innkeeper.
It is far too cold out tonight anyways...
•
Twilight's heart was pounding in her chest as the halls of Discord's mind dissolved around her, leaving her own rooms in their place.
Her heart continued to pound as she added the last of her firewood to the coals in the fireplace, building up the flames that Discord said was the only remaining link his mind seemed to have with the outside world.
Her heart rate only began to slow down when the flames formed into the shape of Discord's head, and he proudly noted how hot he now was.
Twilight was so relieved, she almost did laugh at that.
Instead, she called one of her hoofmaids in, and explained very carefully that the flame in this fireplace must never go out, no matter how hot the room got. She also told the maid not to worry if the fireplace spoke, images appeared in the flames, or anything else unusual seemed to happen around it. However, if the fireplace asked for anything, it was to be given it right away. And if the fireplace started called for Twilight, she should be notified at once, no matter what she was doing at the time.
As the confused looking maid left to get more wood and to tell the other maids the princess's unusual orders, Twilight went over to her desk and pulled out a scroll and quill. The events of the day had thrown Twilight for a loop, but she had organized her way out of crisis before. Pulling out a checklist she had made on her way back from the War Room, Twilight checked it over.
Speak to Cadence, Shining Armor, and Luna for the first time in 11 years Check
Send letters to [strike]the other elements[/strike] my old friends. Check
Contact Discord about reaching Fluttershy and locating Pinkie PieCheck
She quickly added:
Make sure the fireplace is fully stocked and inform the maids Check
Warn Spike of possible danger [ ]
Nodding to herself in satisfaction, Twilight rolled up the scroll and put it back in a drawer. Then, she sat down, and began a new scroll.
In case this does not directly reach the
intended recipient, please deliver to
Spike the Dragon, formerly of Ponyville,
located in the Fringe Dragon Academy.
URGENT
Dear Spike,
I know no one is permitted to send you a letter anymore, for your training is your number one priority, but I simply could not sit here and allow you to go without forewarning of the day's events. If anyone reading this is not Spike the Apprentice Dragon of the Fringe Monastery, please send this to him immediately, by order of the Equestrian Princess. The rest of this message will be encrypted for security's sake. Thank you.
Diane gave the trunk a hard buck. The nest at the top of the tree held six eggs. The dark purple spots on the light purple shells gave them an unusual cast in the dim, evening light. The eggs fell, and broke on the ground, their yokes soaking into the dry dirt below. If only the six eggs had had a stronger nest holding them in place, the shells would not be sparkling like gems on the ground in a rainbow of hues.
Be careful Spike,
Twilight
It took Twilight four drafts to get the letter just right. It wasn't easy, either. The code had to be precise, and it was difficult to convey a lot of information through it. The first paragraph had made mention of the second paragraph being a code, which meant that the main point of the letter was actually in the first paragraph. That first paragraph was made to look as little like a code as possible, and everything said in it was written in case somedragon besides Spike did in fact read it. It had been carefully reworded to try and sound natural, but Spike would pick up on the code right away.
What that first paragraph had been reworded with was numbers. In order, the numbers one, two, four, one, two, four, one two four had been put into the conversational way the first paragraph had been written. And three times no less. No one is, permitted to send, for your training, number one priority, you to go, forewarning, anyone, send this to him, and encrypted for security: the combination of ones, twos, and fours were each representative of a different secret message.
The code was actually pretty clever, Twilight thought with a little pride. It was impossible to break, since only someone who knew the combination of ones, twos, and fours could tell what was being said. Plus, those three numbers worked so easily as words that nocreature would ever think that it even was a code. In this case of this one, the code 124124124 was actually the first code that Twilight and Spike had come up with. It was an easy one to remember as well, since written out, it make the 3 number 3's seem quite obviously missing. And so that code was only to be used if the Three had awakened. It was as close as Twilight could think to get to telling Spike what had happened.
The second paragraph was intentionally written to look like a code to further hide the fact the first paragraph was the real code, although it did still serve a useful purpose. When Spike had been born, his shell had been light purple with dark purple spots. However, because of his coloration, most everypony had assumed his egg was purple with green spots, a rumor that Spike had himself once enjoyed perpetuating.
By stating the actual color of Spike's egg, it was supposed to be a coded way of saying that the message really was from Twilight. Everything else about the second paragraph was so vague it shouldn't mean anything to anydragon but Spike anyways. All it really said was that Twilight was going to try and get back together with their old friends by mentioning each of them in a vaguely cryptic way. Six eggs, which indicated her and her old five friends, Diane - Pinkie Pie, bucks the tree - Applejack and Fluttershy, dim evening light - Twilight, gems on the ground - Rarity, and a rainbow of hues - Rainbow Dash. Spike would catch all that. Twilight was okay, and so were the others. Twilight felt that was something that Spike would be glad to hear.
So it served its purpose. As long as Spike got this letter, he would know at least some of what was going on. The fact that it said urgent at the top in all capital letters would also let him know that it was something big.
Of course, it certainly didn't say everything that Twilight would have liked to say. It didn't say that there was war in Equestria for the first time since the Fall of Discord. Nor did it say that Twilight wasn't on speaking terms with Fluttershy anymore, or that Twilight didn't even know where Fluttershy was these days. It also failed to mention about Pinkie Pie going missing and Discord being trapped by some kind of powerful magic. And it certainly didn't say anything about the mysterious danger that was purportedly coming.
No, Twilight had never told him any of that. She wouldn't risk ruining some portion of Spike's training by worrying him too much about things back home. He had committed himself to joining this group of monkish dragons living in the Fringe, and he was going to learn how to gain his wings.
Twilight and her friends had of course been sad to see Spike go, but they didn't stop him. Ever since Twilight herself had gained wings, the fact that Spike didn't have wings of his own had just galled at him more and more. Until finally Rarity had sensed that the Fringe held the answers he needed.
And so Spike left. Luckily Zecora had been willing to make the journey with him, claiming it was high time she returned to her native land of Zebrica to, as she put it, right a wrong put off for too long. And since the Fringe was only a little further south than Zebrica, it made sense for them to travel together.
Before Celestia had been attacked and the Three had been formed, Twilight had learned Celestia's spell allowing Spike to send and receive messages. And for a while, it worked, and they used that spell to keep in regular contact while Spike and Zecora made their long journey south. They even kept up regular contact for the first couple years of Spike's training. Until finally, they had been forced to stop, as "a necessary part of the young dragon's journey to finding inner peace".
And here it was, over four years without so much as a birthday card sent between the two of them, and Twilight was about to interrupt Spike's studies.
But it has to be done. He needs to know this. If anything, this might help him find that inner peace he is supposed to be looking for... Right?
Forcing a stiff upper lip, Twilight poured some hot wax over the fold in the letter before sealing it with her own personal crest, made in the shape of her cutie mark.
Celestia had said to Twilight that dragon fire could act as a means for a dragon to store its treasures while still being a great distance from its hoard. She had said that dragons could also use that ability to retrieve any item from that hoard and return it to their present location, though this was much more rarely done, and most dragons did not realize the ability could work both ways.
Therefore, Celestia said, the trick to using a dragon's fire yourself was to create a mental image of the item you wanted to send being in that dragon's specific hoard, but also that he urgently needed to retrieve it. This triggered the dragon's instincts to call the item from his hoard, and just like that, the letter was sent.
Not an easy spell, but it was nothing Twilight couldn't handle. The trouble was, soon after she had received that final letter, Twilight had found she could no longer create an image of Spike's hoard in her mind. She wasn't sure exactly what to make of that, but it did mean that she really couldn't send him a message that way anymore. And so Twilight instead was going to try and teleport the scroll to where she knew Spike to be, at the monastery in the Fringe.
Unfortunately, standard teleportation magic was affected by distance. The further you had to teleport an object, the more strength in magic and concentration it took to move it. And even then, the greater the distance, the less accuracy you would have in aiming the spell. And this was a considerable distance to send an object, even for Twilight.
Since that meant Twilight was effectively sending the scroll to where anydragon within a hundred miles of the Academy could be the one to pick it up, she had taken the precautions of the address, the encryption, a strong fire repellant spell, and the wax seal with own her personal crest.
Closing her eyes and drawing in the magic that was as ever present to Twilight as the air in the room, Twilight visualized Spike. She visualized his rooms, as he had once described them to her in a letter. She saw the massive dimly lit stone cavern at the monastery, big enough to allow dragons of every creed, color, and size access to their rooms at once. She saw one of the dozens of little square cubby holes carved from the north rock wall of the cavern, which is where all the lower-tier apprentices slept. She saw the open side of his room blocked with a paper partition, and his simple furnishings: a wooden desk and chair for work and storage, and on the floor a fireproof wool pallet and a straw mat for meditating. She even saw the room's lone ornament hanging on the wall, which was a single picture from home of Twilight and her friends with Spike.
She saw all of this, as clearly as she had imagined it in Spike's early letters.
And then, she visualized Spike. She couldn't really guess what he might look like these days, whether he had wings or not. Whether he had grown or was still the little guy she had always remembered. So she visualized him as he had been back in Ponyville all of those years ago. The last time she saw him, he'd had a binder pack slung over his back, Zecora by his side, and a sad, hopeful smile on his face as they disappeared around the curve in the road heading south from town.
And then she made a change to her vision. She visualized the letter she had written to Spike appearing in his claws. She visualized the letter vanishing from the desk in front of her.
And then she poured the magic into that image in her mind. More and more and more magic she used in the spell, until she began to feel her horn actually growing hot from the amount of magic she pulled through it. Until at last the scroll vanished in a flash of violet light.
It was done. Now all she could do was hope that he got her message.
•
Apple Bloom left Pumpkin Cake alone with her family after she was sure the girl would be all right. As much as they welcomed her to stay around, it still seemed like a private family moment as far as Apple Bloom was concerned. Plus, now that she knew Pumpkin Cake was safe, she felt she had bigger concerns to deal with.
Like what is happening back with that experiment of Pumpkin Cake's. She thought as the doors to the hospital swung shut behind her, leaving its comforting warmth behind as she stepped out into the later parts of the cool night air. I may not be the crystal guru that girl is, but surely there is something I can do to help, even if it is nearly morning by now.
Despite the fact she didn't walk this route very often, she found that the path from the hospital back to her workshop was surprisingly second nature to her, even lit as it was by only the light of the full moon. She barely had to think about where she was going as she wandered along the neat rows of houses built into the curve of the mountain.
They were the homes of military families working in the command bunker, and due to their unusual proximity to several primary military targets, a clever solution had been devised to keep them from getting bombed. The architect of the solution had been a Manehattan pony who Apple Bloom had come to admire by the name of Honest Bit. He had designed the individual homes to be built into the mountain itself, and camouflaged to look from the air like a natural part of the mountain, and therefore nothing worth attacking.
Although Apple Bloom wasn't so sure about the ego of a pony who would name a design after himself. Not that it mattered; she doubted the name of Ho-bit Hole would stick for very long.
Before long however, she passed the last of the unusual homes and found herself at last approaching her workshop, although it certainly didn't look anything like it had when she left it earlier in the evening. The mountainside entrance was now surrounded by a wood partition, which was surrounded by important-looking ponies in uniforms wielding clipboards and nightsticks. All of whom just happened to be standing around casually talking to each other right outside the partition. The occasional pony passed by the unusual site, but with a quick wave of a hoof or a nightstick by one of the guards, the loitering was kept to a minimum. Most ponies knew not to interfere when the military got involved in something.
Apple Bloom couldn't help wondering what the passing ponies must think was happening in there. The green light of the wayward force field was still lighting up the entrance to her workshop like a beacon right behind them, casting long, green shadows off into the night.
She would have chuckled at the absurdity of the situation if the field wasn't also preventing anypony from reaching the ventilation system which provided air to everypony in the Command Bunker.
Eyeing Apple Bloom, the most casual of the casually standing around uniformed ponies approached: a petite pink and purple mare with violet eyes who Apple Bloom had dealt with on a few prior occasions. In a carefully controlled, customer service voice the security mare asked, "So Miss Bloom, what can I do for you on this fine evening?"
Eyeing her back, Apple Bloom answered. "You know why I'm here Sparkler, so stop playing games. This is my mess, and I want to do what I can to help clean it up."
Sparkler raised an eyebrow at the abrupt tone Apple Bloom had used, but didn't say anything about it.
Instead, she took an extra minute eyeing over her clipboard before saying, "And why would I do that, Miss Bloom? This is magic we are dealing with. Unicorn business. Not to mention the potential benefits of learning how to recreate a self-sustaining force field like this. So if anything, this is military unicorn business."
Apple Bloom could scarcely believe her ears. Unicorn business?
Suppressing the urge to scream, Apple Bloom took a few deep, slow breaths. This is another reason Pumpkin Cake's work is so important, she thought. It eliminates unicorns' supposed monopoly on magic. And it certainly should knock them down a couple of pegs.
Forcing her voice to remain calm, she replied. "And what about the ponies in that bunker, Sparkler? Doesn't it seem like, oh I don't know, the very Earth Pony who invented the system that provides all those important ponies in that bunker with fresh air should maybe be involved in getting that system working again? For that matter, isn't the princess in this bunker? Doesn't she like to breathe?
Sparkler's head snapped up at that, no longer simply half listening while looking over her clipboard. She replied with venom, "Look, I don't know how you learned the classified location of the princess's residence, and I don't want to know. But the fact is that this location has been put on high level lockdown. Straight from the top. We are bringing in pegasi to reuse the old wing powered pumping station until this situation has been resolved. And as for what the Earth Pony who made this system should do to help, maybe she should go and consider the meaning of the phrase contingency plan. I mean seriously, Miss Bloom, Equestria is being bombed on a daily basis. Did the possibility of engine failure simply not occur to you, or are your hooves so deep in the dirt it simply never occurred to you that something you built could fail?"
Apple Bloom was stunned, and she began to answer, but was cut off as Sparkler continued her tirade. "And furthermore, the princess can teleport, create force fields of her own, and fly. I would be shocked if she was in any danger of breathing trouble. Even if we don't manage to get fresh air down there within the hour, she will be able to get herself out of any immediate danger.
"And besides all of that, as I understand it this is your apprentice's invention, so if anypony is going to help us fix this situation, it is a unicorn like her, not that we would even let her near this place now given her odd reaction to this thing she built. So go home Apple Bloom, and let the professionals handle this."
With that, Sparkler turned around and trotted back to her post, before returning to her conversation with the purple and blue mare she had been standing next to.
Stunned at being turned away, Apple Bloom stood there for a moment, finding herself uncertain what to do. Finally, a plan began to form in her mind, and as Apple Bloom turned and began to gallop back towards the hospital, she found herself smiling.
It was time to have a little chat with her apprentice. She would show that pony what an Earth Pony, and a founder of the Crusaders, could do.
•
A dirt path stretches through the forest. The leaves blow on a gentle breeze.
I start to trot along the road.
I don't know where I am.
But wait, I see you up ahead!
You stand among the trees, the moon silhouetting your face from behind.
You call to me. "Pip," I hear you call... "Come to me, Pip!"
I gallop with all my strength. The faster I go, the farther away you get.
I must catch up to you!
"Pip," you call again. "Why did you leave me, Pip?"
"Why did you forget?"
"Help me Pip."
"I did not forget you!" I cry.
But you cannot hear me call.
You are asleep. You are helping your sister to die.
"I won't forget you, Luna."
"I will SAVE YOU!"
"LUNA!"
Pip sat up in an unfamiliar bed, drenched in sweat.
A figure in black robes spoke to me last night, then used some kind of spell on me. Silver Spoon is in danger. The figure made me forget...
A figure in robes spoke. A spell was used. Silver Spoon in danger. I forget...
A robed spoon forgot to spell.
Pip blinked in confusion.
What was I just thinking?... No matter. It must not have been important.
Laying back down, Pip closed his eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep.