Celestia had chosen the form of a pegasus pony. Not that she had to give up her magic, exactly. If necessary, she knew she could always swap appearances again once she was away from any prying eyes in Canterlot. For now, though, the easiest and least conspicuous way out of the city was to fly.
Looking behind her, Celestia could just barely make out dots of white and gold darting quickly around the open windows of Canterlot Castle's highest towers. The Royal Guard was certainly—
No, she couldn't think about that. It was terrible for her to be abandoning Canterlot, the throne, and, most of all, Luna like this, but her student had left her little choice. All Celestia could do now was focus on what needed to be done about Twilight.
Celestia ran through the details of her cover again and again for any flaws.
Never married, no children, on a quick sightsee of Equestria before settling down.
She seemed like somepony completely unremarkable, with thankfully few ties to trace back to Canterlot Castle. For all intents and purposes, she was now the pegasus Mirror Image; somepony unattached, with little bloodline to speak of, still yearning for a youthful thrill and at the cusp of the midpoint that was life. Only one of these traits was a fabrication, after all.
She inspected herself as she flew. The same white coat covered her body, complementing a bubblegum pink mane and tail, but her wings had dramatically shrunken and she'd lost a good several feet in height. This measurement seemed even greater with the absence of her horn. Celestia had heard grim tales of amputation from some of the more gristly of the Pre-Equestria war legends, soldiers telling of how one could still feel the tingles of a limb long hacked off. Celestia could still feel her horn and could remove the illusion spell upon it at any time, as well as cast it again for changes in coat or mane colour and wing-concealing purposes, but she still shivered to imagine her reflection without such a familiar part of her. It wasn't helped that the spell's effect was indefinite until manually dispelled. For the sake of blending in, she was purposefully making herself more vulnerable.
The most important part of her disguise was the cutie mark. The bright sun Celestia was so accustomed to seeing would look very dubious upon her now, and so she'd cast two spells to rectify the problem. First, the same simple illusion spell she had cast on her horn, then a second, slightly more complex illusion over top. No one could truly give cutie marks, certainly no more than anyone could take them away, but spells that relied on the principle of smoke and mirrors had their usages beyond the few Canterlot stage shows that she had attended.
It was really quite ingenious. The spell actually functioned rather similarly to any basic levitation spell, holding something aloft in the air. How it differed was that it created a desired image rather than carried an object and then projected this image wherever appropriate. A picture of a golden hoof-held mirror adorned her flank, the mirror’s outer rim studded with various gems the same colours as her natural mane. Also true to her natural mane was that if one looked closely enough, they would just barely make out the slightest bit of unnatural shimmer to the picture. The illusion was well done, but not seamless, and it was part of the reason Celestia had chosen the gaudy, refracting object to be her disguise's cutie mark in the first place. If anypony should notice the glimmer, there was at least a small hope that it could be passed off as having been part of the cutie mark.
After roughly half an hour of continuous flight, Celestia touched down in Ponyville. The lack of attention upon her told her that her disguise was working like a charm. The continuing quiet of the town, rather than the rapt attention and bows she was used to receiving from everypony else upon her visits, would have been a pleasant change of pace had it not been for circumstances. In fact, the more she listened the more she found it was a bit too quiet for what could be considered ordinary in Ponyville. The only significant source of noise seemed to be around a corner on her left.
As she strolled around the bend and past Sugarcube Corner, she noticed ten or so ponies gathered around a nearby bulletin board. A few excited voices drifted to her ears.
“...do you think she might have...?”
“...do you think she did it?”
“...just crazy!”
When Celestia looked past the heads of the small crowd and saw the poster that was upon the bulletin board, she knew what all the fuss was about. The face of her student smiled at her beneath the bolded wanted header. It was a poor stand-in for her actual presence, and Celestia could feel how much emptier the town seemed without her. And without all of her friends.
The quiet had been telling enough that they had left for Canterlot, Applejack's recognizable twang absent from the calls of the market vendors, and Pinkie Pie's antics not leaking out from the nearby Sugarcube Corner. Luna had made it abundantly clear to Celestia last night that she was not going to leave matters alone, and Twilight's friends had clearly felt the same way. Celestia couldn't blame them, of course, but all the same if she could no longer keep them uninvolved, then she would have to instead prepare for the worst-case scenario. And it involved the one thing that Twilight's friends were almost certainly retrieving in Canterlot.
The Elements.
Since Discord's bypassing of her sealing spell, Celestia had not trusted herself to keep the Elements locked away on her own, even with her newly placed enchantments. The logical solution was to split the keys. Luna could open the chamber doors, but the enchantments belonged to Celestia. All she had to do was wait for Luna to activate them, and she could find Twilight within the hour. But that was only half of the problem solved. Even when she found Twilight, dealing with her company was another matter entirely.
“...you being skeptical, Rose?” a taunting voice carried to Celestia's ears. She turned to look at a pink-coated earth pony mare milling around the bulletin board, apparently gossiping with a friend. “Now I've seen everything.”
“I'm not stupid, Lily!” the other mare, pale-coated with a red mane, retorted angrily. “It doesn't make any sense and you know it.”
“Neither does Twilight just running off,” a green and purple mare cut over both of the other two. It was clear now to Celestia that these ponies near the front of the crowd were what had drawn her ear earlier. The purple mare's ears drooped. “And she's all alone.”
Celestia tuned the ponies out. Twilight was smart, but whatever puzzle she thought she was putting together—and Celestia granted she did have the most crucial piece—was beyond even her ability to control once it was assembled. Frankly, she would have been better off travelling by herself than in the company of such a fiend.
Knowledge. To anypony else, the title would be no more significant than the others in the garden. In some way, it wasn't. Like the others, it was simply a matter of detail. Concealing the true pony behind the stone and stamp of name. But the single word was so much more than a title in Knowledge's case. It was a warning. Knowledge couldn't hurt anypony if she was silent, but free from her prison even her true name became dangerous. It was why Celestia had gone out of her way to ensure that it was forgotten. If that side of Knowledge should resurface...
Celestia walked over to a nearby cafe and sat at one of the outdoor tables. She ordered a sweetened green tea and waited. It was only a matter of time before Luna did her part, and Celestia knew she would feel the tracking enchantment's effects the moment it became active.
Your move, Lulu.
As Celestia sipped distractedly at her tea, she mused on her final problem. Twilight was needed for the Elements to work, and she was hardly going to be looking forward to using her element on Knowledge if she had protected her for this long. She would need to be convinced, and the only thing that could do that was the truth, and that damnable name that came with it.
Celestia needed some way to tell Twilight without needlessly endangering her or anypony else, and that number included Knowledge. Because even if Celestia didn't feel personal responsibility for Knowledge, she still didn't wish for the mare to come to actual harm if it could be helped. The dead couldn't answer for their crimes.
And Knowledge had over nine hundred years to answer for.
~\\***\***/***//~
Los Pegasus had the most polarizing reputation of any of Equestria's major cities. It was fitting, given its two-fold division.
Wealthy tourists came to Los Pegasus almost solely for the city's higher reaches in the clouds, where more than half of the city's earnings were made and spent again at casinos, salt bars, and other pick-your-poison places of entertainment. All of this was topped off with a fantastic view of the Applewood sign on the distant hills to the east. You only needed to be rich enough.
Far below the clouds, however, the underbelly of Los Pegasus was very scattershot in its arrangement. The more modest, and that was being charitable, buildings were erected in the patches of sun that weren't blocked out by the cloud cover overhead. Nevertheless, these same bright spots served to expose just how impoverished the lower city was, as if the sunlight was draining the buildings' colour for usage on the structures up above. It was here that Twilight and Knowledge found themselves wandering.
They were lucky to have found the railroad corner at the Whitetail Woods’ northwest edge. After an hour of waiting, Twilight had teleported the two of them onto the train’s caboose as it went south towards the city. It had cut their travel time in half, but now out in the open during midday, Twilight was beginning to have second thoughts on the decision.
“What are you lookin' at?”
Knowledge gave an “eep!”, while Twilight hurried both herself and her friend away from the rough-worn earth pony they had both glanced at in passing.
“I guess that means 'Welcome to Los Pegasus',” Twilight grumbled once the earth pony was out of earshot.
“Los Pegasus?” Knowledge whispered. “But I thought...”
“It's a pegasus city, yes.” Twilight looked straight up. There was a ferry balloon returning from a trip up to the city now. “At least for the most part.”
It was the biggest drawback to Twilight and Knowledge travelling to Los Pegasus, not that they'd had many other options. While Celestia would hardly be expecting the two to travel to a pegasus city of all places, it also meant that they would be among the city's minority. From what little Twilight had read about Los Pegasus, that minority was mostly composed of criminals who struggled to steal their living in the impoverished lower city. Twilight imagined she at least partially fit that bill by now, but her wry musings soured into a slowly rising panic.
I'm a criminal.
Worse still, she wasn't just some no-name common burglar or shoplifter. She was a former student of one of Equestria's residing ruler's, and was now wanted by the Royal Guard itself. To anypony else, that spelled out a hefty reward for her capture.
Twilight began to hyperventilate, and she tried futilely to keep an eye on every last pony they passed. What if she saw somepony she recognized? What if somepony recognized her? Against Knowledge's protests, she picked up her pace to the ferry balloon's landing platform.
“Hello!” Twilight exclaimed, startling the pony on toll duty. She took a long breath, and tried again. “Uh, sorry. My friend and I just need to get up to the city.”
“Hello, miss,” The stallion kindly offered after recovering from his scare. He was a slightly pudgy, light-orange earth pony with a black mane. He wore a blue vest with a clipboard tucked under one foreleg and a pen behind one ear. “The ferry is coming down as we speak. Departure will be within minutes.”
“Twilight!” Knowledge, having caught up to Twilight, tried to sound indignant, but it came out as more of a plead. “Don't do that again! “I... I can't be alone here. I...” She frowned and scuffed a hoof in the dirt.
Twilight put one leg around Knowledge's neck in apology, and her friend gave a weak smile back. She turned to the stallion, who had folded back some sheets on his clipboard to examine something. “May we board, sir?”
The stallion looked up at her, then behind him. There was a quiet whump from the ferry balloon's landing, and now the door on the wicker basket's side had opened to allow for passengers.
“Just you two? Do you have somepony in your party capable of performing the cloud-walking spell?” the stallion asked.
Twilight nodded and pointed to herself, expecting the query. Non-pegasus tourists going to any cloud city were expected to have some alternative method of getting around the clouds safely. This usually amounted to having a pegasus chauffeur a group around on a solid platform of some kind, but occasionally cloud-walking spells were used. Usually this only happened in groups with several unicorns, given the amount of energy the spell required. For Twilight though, it was a cinch.
“Very good. Then you may board.”
Twilight and Knowledge stepped into the basket and were soon joined by three other ponies, a group of unicorns who were almost certainly travelling together. Twilight's theory was confirmed as the three ponies began to direct their horns towards each other’s hooves, Twilight proceeding to do the same for herself and Knowledge. Knowledge became fidgety, and Twilight soon smirked as she realised her companion, trying her absolute hardest to conceal her own grin, was ticklish.
Twilight looked over and spotted a light green pegasus mare speaking quietly with the boarding stallion and two other similarly blue-vested pegasi. One made a gesture to the basket, then up at the city above. All four ponies soon nodded, and the mare stepped back into the basket. From the scarf and the aviator goggles slipped over her face, Twilight figured this must have been the balloon pilot.
“Okay, everypony,” the pilot addressed them in a thick Los Pegasus accent, “We'll be taking off now. It just seems we have a bit of an incident at the platform up high,” she gestured to the pegasi behind her, “and the boys are going to speed on ahead up top to make sure everything is ay-okay. Provided it's cleared up, we will be on schedule. Alright?” Everypony but Twilight nodded. Something wasn't right. She peeked over the pilot's shoulder, and back down the platform walkway. The boarding stallion was double-checking something beneath the sheets of his clipboard again.
Are they...
“Here we go!” Before Twilight could protest, the pilot set the balloon on course with a tug of the hanging engine cord, the two blue-vested pegasi launching ahead of the group. In a matter of seconds, the balloon was above the highest building in the lower city and was lazily drifting at a slight eastern angle for the clouds. Twilight looked below and figured she had lost her chance to teleport herself and Knowledge safely down to the ground again. She settled into her place, counting the minutes in her head until they reached the city. She took a second glance down to the sparse buildings of the lower city. Down there, the swift pegasi could run them down in an instant.
You're being paranoid, Twilight.
Twilight heard a squeak of terror and flinched, dreadfully wondering if she had been recognized. Daring to look up, she saw Knowledge hugging the closest pony to her, a shift in the basket from a brief gale startling her. The pink and orange-maned unicorn in her grasp pushed her off in irritation. Before Knowledge could trip, Twilight caught her in her own hug.
“Not enjoying the view?” Knowledge looked at her sourly before Twilight added, “Neither am I.” The two sat down and faced the inside of the basket, parallel to the doorway. The unicorn passengers busied themselves with the view below, while the pilot continued to mind their ascent. The pair’s far wall seating gave them at least a few feet of privacy, Twilight keeping her voice low.
“Knowledge?” Something had been nagging at Twilight for their entire trek through the forest, and she wanted to get it off of her chest before she and Knowledge settled too deeply into hiding. Not that she aimed to spend the rest of her life as a fugitive.
“Yes?” Knowledge was rubbing her two front hooves together, and puffed a breath into them. It was getting chillier as the balloon ascended.
“I know you said you didn't want to remember—”
“You're right, I did.”
Twilight flinched, but time was short. She had to keep pressing. “But I don't think that it matters. Like it or not, I think you're going to have to deal with your memories sometime soon.” Twilight was touching many nerves, she knew, but it was better for Knowledge to be angry at her now than later. Twilight didn't hold delusions for a third chance to hide if their cover was blown in the city proper.
Knowledge turned to face Twilight directly. “Define soon.”
“Maybe very soon. Do you even remember what your cutie mark means?”
Knowledge's eyes flicked briefly to the sundial on her side, then back up to Twilight. “No, but... what does that matter?” But Knowledge sounded like she already knew the answer she was going to get. Twilight hated to oblige.
“Well, think about it. Cutie marks signify everypony's destiny. They tell you who you are, who you're meant to be. And every time you look at it you just know it's right. That doesn't exactly sound like something you're allowed to forget.”
Knowledge stared, and Twilight could tell that she was unwillingly putting the pieces together. “You think whatever,” she gestured to her cutie mark, “this means, is what all of what's going on means.”
“Well, not all of it, but if there's any chance that your special talent had something to do with the whole... you know, then it might be worth remembering. It could help us. Both of us.”
Knowledge huffed, and turned away. She mumbled bitterly to the bottom of the basket. “Sure, I'll bet it'll just fix everything.”
“I never said th—”
“You didn't have to.”
“Don't you get it, Knowledge?” Twilight cried, forgetting discretion in her annoyance, though Knowledge ignored her anyways. The pilot's next glance at the both of them lingered longer than the ones before. When Twilight offered her own in return, the pegasus looked away, and pretended to take another glance back up at the city. It was only about thirty feet away now.
She had to calm down. Knowledge needed to know she wasn't just some bargaining chip, something to be used. “I understand why you're angry,” Twilight ignored Knowledge's deepening frown, “I really do, but we've already talked about this. We can't just let Celestia... I need to know what's going on, Knowledge, I admit it. I need to. Figuring out who you are is our only lead, and no matter what you say, I know you're wondering too. That's never going to just go away.”
Knowledge adopted her straight, dark concentration from two mornings ago. This lasted until she winced and brought a hoof to her face like she was trying to force away a headache. “Say we try. We just try. What then? After I know who I was—what I was—what then? Even if it could help us, tell us what Celestia did, how would we prove any of it? Everypony would call us crazy!”
“Then we prove we aren't.”
Knowledge's dark, haunted eyes, nearly overpowering her indignation, told Twilight the mare knew exactly what she was talking about. Knowledge's voice was a hiss, as if she were ignoring an injury. “I'm never going back there, do you hear me? Never.”
“Knowledge, it's all we have right now. We don't even know if—”
“Exactly! You don't know!” She shook her head. “Hay, your spell won't even work on them! It won't—”
“Wait, what? What are you talking about?”
“Your cockatrice-remedy spell! It won't have... it should...” As quickly as it had appeared, Knowledge's bitterness disappeared, and she imitated the confused unicorn next to her. She held a hoof over her mouth, her eyes wide. “Twilight, what am I talking about?”
Twilight could tell that the question wasn't self-depreciation on Knowledge's part. She was genuinely hoping for an answer. “I... I don't know,” Twilight whispered, but the thought occurred to her that what had just happened to Knowledge was eerily familiar to what had happened back in the library. Twilight had somehow hit the trigger for more of the mare's memories again, the talk about cockatrice and remedy spells spilling out of Knowledge's mouth in a rant without her even taking a second to realise that she had no real frame of reference, at least not one she remembered.
And what if it kept happening? Knowledge would remember everything, but hate every moment of it. Twilight watched Knowledge turn away in dejection, the earth pony realising her guide couldn't offer any of the context she was missing. Twilight thought they really needed to hit on something big soon, if only for the sake of Knowledge's sanity.
Twilight, what am I talking about?
Twilight never wanted to hear Knowledge ask her that again. The poor mare undoubtedly thought she was losing her mind.
What if she is?
Twilight frowned. It couldn't be that simple. Those screams she had heard back in the garden upon Knowledge's first awakening; those were the screams of an anguished mind. This... this was something different, and even darker. It came and went with a set pattern, flowing along with Knowledge's memories in a stream. It was as if something was actively forcing her to remember.
Twilight spared Knowledge's sundial cutie mark a second glance. There couldn’t have been an object better suited to the earth pony; something precise and intelligent in function, but wholly outmoded in the modern age and always needing a guide to function correctly.
Wait. A guide. A... sun.
“Celestia,” Twilight whispered.
“What?” Knowledge didn't look at Twilight, but instead stood up, and swung her head in blurs to every side of the balloon. Risking a peek over the basket's edge, she looked up to the clouds and down again towards the distant ground, as if expecting to see the princess flying straight towards them on her huge wings. When her dread was suitably disappointed, she turned back to Twilight, who had been staring at the earth pony, waiting for the chance to properly address her. Twilight’s voice was grave as Knowledge sat back down.
“You and Celestia had to have known each other, Knowledge. It's the only thing that makes sense. But I don't think you just knew her in passing.” Twilight hesitated, readying her spell to cover Knowledge's mouth if need be. “I think you were her student.”
Twilight expected a swift denial, a scream of offense from Knowledge as the mare called her crazy. Knowledge instead shrank further into herself, and whispered the same nonsense she had said earlier under her breath. “Cockatrice-remedy... won't work... can't go back...” With her mind once again shattered, Knowledge was clearly in no state to offer any assertions on the point of Celestia. Her only remaining mental defense was to focus on something easier to think about. The thought of losing her mind was apparently preferable to the thought of being associated with the princess.
Twilight milled on what was spilling out from Knowledge's mouth again. Before the earth pony had said such a thing about magic, let-alone advanced magic, Twilight would have thought her theory about Knowledge and Celestia was completely high concept. Now, the more she thought about it, the more it would explain. Not just Knowledge's fear of the princess and her captivity within the Canterlot Sculpture Garden, but just how the mare knew some of the things she apparently did.
For one thing, it would explain how the mare knew so much about the Old Canterlot Castle's interior. Twilight granted she didn't know how castle procedures had worked nearly one thousand years ago, but if it was anything like nowadays, then only two types of ponies would be allowed to walk the halls that Knowledge apparently had access to in the dream she had described. Knowledge hardly seemed the militant type, so her being a royal guard was out of the question. That left her as, at the very least, a royal servant.
But a student? Perhaps. After all, this wasn't the first time Knowledge had talked about powerful magic. Back when they were still hiding in the library's basement, Knowledge did make some mention about Twilight's magical ability and had related, if very vaguely, to past witnessing of strong spells. Still, there was one thing nagging at Twilight, making her think that maybe she had jumped a bit too far with her theory.
She's not a unicorn.
The thought was without malice, entirely observational. Twilight was far smarter and kinder than to hold ill will towards other types of ponies just for being different. What was Hearth's Warming celebrated for, after all? It was just that the idea of Celestia having a student of magic that couldn't actively manipulate the force was baffling. Then again, everypony and everything did still have magic, be it passive or active, and this was long before the founding of Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns.
I just don't know.
Twilight shook her head and turned back to Knowledge. The earth pony was still mumbling to herself, but apparently she had moved on from her brooding on Twilight's magic. It didn't matter, whatever she was saying was no more comprehensible to Twilight than the stuff before. Twilight caught a few mentions of the word 'friend' and realised she must be digging up more memories of Old Canterlot now. She was just about to ask Knowledge to speak up, when she heard a door creak open.
The balloon clearing the cloud cover overhead had passed Twilight's notice, and now the fluffy white landing platform sat just a step down from the edge of the basket. They were here: Los Pegasus. She whispered as gently to Knowledge as she could. “Knowledge, we can go now.”
Knowledge's nonsense streak continued. “You don't understand. And the princess would never understand. They...”
“Knowledge.” Twilight called a little louder, and poked the other pony gently with a hoof. When she still didn't get an answer, she turned away to take a second look around her, and it was all that was necessary for her eyes to suddenly widen in horror.
The balloon pilot was standing outside the open gate to the basket, staring apprehensively at the both of them. Appearing in Twilight and Knowledge's path to the exit were the two stallions who had flown on ahead of the balloon. They frowned as sternly as they could at the two mares with their wings flared out, blocking any escape. But Twilight's attention was less on them, and more on the two golden vistas behind them, one beautiful, the other terrifying.
The high towers, both clouded and otherwise, that made up the upper city of Los Pegasus were undoubtedly striking, the afternoon sun free to spread its colour across the wide ranges of white. Twilight's vantage point from the landing platform made the street look like a river of gold. Treading its way up this river was a golden wave, its many dark eyes giving Twilight equal attention.
For as wide as the departure platform was, it wasn't so wide to not be sliced in two by the row of royal guards at its rough middle, slowly getting closer, hooffalls muted by the clouds. Understandably, most were pegasi, with only a few unicorns off at either end of the line, cloud-walking spells no doubt cast upon their hooves.
There was no time to even panic. Completely boxed in, Twilight saw only one option left for the two of them, and she grabbed Knowledge's shaking hoof and lit up her horn. She knew that several disadvantages were working against her and that the spell would tax her far more than usual, but there simply wasn't anything for it. The eyes of the blue-vested stallions widened, and the leftmost one tried to charge forward and tackle Twilight, but he was too late.
Having never been to Los Pegasus before, Twilight had no idea of the city's layout like she did of Ponyville, Canterlot, and their surrounding wilds. Accounting both this and how she lacked a clear line of sight on a destination, Twilight supposed she could forgive herself for teleporting right over the edge of a cloud. The rush of air from her fall lasted for far less time than she expected, however.
Her mind delirious from the taxing spell, the slight burning smell of a stressful teleportation floating through the high air, Twilight only barely acknowledged a death grip upon one of her hooves. Looking up from the ground far below, Twilight saw Knowledge lying flat upon the edge of a cloud. The earth pony was tugging Twilight's hoof with all her might, and when Twilight found she was too shaky to properly orient another teleportation, she instead wrapped her front limbs in her magic and began to pull herself upwards. She eventually collapsed on the cloud next to Knowledge, but when she took a look around from on her belly, she saw that they could not afford themselves much rest.
She and Knowledge were some twenty feet or so on the opposite side of the living barricade of ponies leading to the boarding platform. A few of the armoured ponies in the line had taken off to investigate around the balloon’s basket. Others were checking nearby buildings and gaining vantage points from rooftops. Thankfully, none had happened to look in the two mares’ direction yet, but this would not last with them beginning to draw nervous whispers from the crowd of ponies in the bustling street. They needed to take advantage of the disoriented royal guards fast, and she began to tug Knowledge along with her towards the central street.
Twilight knew they would not blend in perfectly among the wealthy citizens, especially with all of the stares at her near-death experience, but she knew it could at least afford them some cover until they could duck out of sight completely. If there was one thing Twilight could assess quickly about Los Pegasus, it was that its crowds and clouds made it ill-suited for multiple teleports. The next best thing was to stick to the original plan of remaining inconspicuous. It was all for nought though, as the far left pony in the guard line happened to turn his head and, before Twilight could stop herself, she made eye contact.
For a moment, fugitive and royal guard exchanged a sad look with each other. But when Twilight saw the guard mouth her name to his comrades, she turned and began to shove her way through the crowd. Twilight ignored every indignant cry from the ponies around her, hearing only Knowledge's terrified encouragements for her to go faster, and those two awful words cutting over the entirety of the city street.
“Seize her!”
For a moment, Twilight wished she had fallen.
~\\***\***/***//~
While it was only early afternoon, and the outside still had plenty of sunlight to offer, the front hall of Canterlot Castle was shaded and gloomy. Curtains were drawn across every visible window, but be it because of a preference of Princess Luna's, or, far more likely, due to the other recent occurrence at the castle, Rarity was hesitant to step forward and ask why. The princess, caught up in Canterlot's quiet panic, was pacing at the midsection of the front staircase, and still had yet to say a word.
Before, Rarity would have thought that the head of the situation had been reached when Twilight Sparkle was discovered to be a criminal. But then she and the others had departed from the train, and none of the city's usual hustle and bustle had greeted them. The only thing that could rival the quiet of Canterlot Castle was Canterlot itself. Nevertheless, it still didn't take long for the group to catch a few of the panicked whispers among the city folk. Despite Princess Luna's and the Royal Guard's best efforts to dismiss the event as a ridiculous rumour, there was only one word occupying the Canterlot streets: Princess Celestia was gone.
It was an absolute mess. Rarity scanned her friends, then took another glance at Princess Luna's pained face. What could she say to her? How exactly could anypony maintain complete tact when both Twilight and Princess Celestia were missing? Certainly not like Applejack, that was for sure.
“Princess, we…” When Luna didn’t seem to acknowledge her, Applejack grumbled in annoyance. “Why does this keep happenin’?”
“I tried to tell you it was a mistake to run in here early, Applejack. Just look at her!” Rarity did not turn her eyes away from Princess Luna, but she leaned ever so slightly to the cowpony on her left.
“Ah ain't sittin' on my hooves anymore, Rarity,” Applejack whispered fiercely. “Twilight is out there, and the princess here gave us her word ta' help. What more is there to it?”
“Uh, duh? Princess Celestia is gone! Y'know, her sister!” Rainbow Dash was hovering over the rest of the group, pointing at Luna. Unlike the others, she didn't bother to keep her voice down, and she received nasty glares from the guards on either side of the main door. She landed to face Applejack directly. “How'd you be feeling right now if it was your sister?”
Applejack whirled on her. “T'aint the same thing! Celestia—”
“Tread lightly, Applejack. You as well, Rainbow Dash.” However Applejack had planned to continue or Rainbow Dash had intended to retort, both immediately went silent. Princess Luna's words were soft, but that only served to make the quiet hall all the more eerie. It was almost possible to hear the two admonished ponies' necks creak as they slowly faced the princess again. Pinkie Pie had zipped away from her, and was now back beside Fluttershy, fighting with the pegasus for who was hiding behind whom. Luna sighed at the group, hating having to reprimand invited friends, and at such an awful time.
Rarity recovered first, and tried to salvage what was left of the situation. “Princess, we are far ahead of the time you had scheduled for us,” she practiced her own scolding stare on Applejack before continuing, “and we're sorry we barged in on you unannounced when you are dealing with what's happened with Princess Celestia. If you'll accept our apologies, we'll just be on our—”
“Please, don't.” Princess Luna turned to face Rarity, and then began down the rest of the stairs towards the group. “My sister's foalishness is not your doing. And it is actually somewhat fortuitous that your friend Applejack is so hasty, in this case.”
Rainbow Dash stifled a giggle, and Applejack leered at her. “Well ya' did tell me ta' keep up.” Rainbow immediately clamped up, looking crestfallen.
Princess Luna hoof-waved the pair's antics away. “It matters not how it happened. If not for your own hurry, we—I would have called for your audience ahead of time, regardless. With my sister's recent flight, time is now, more than ever, of the essence.”
“Right! So hit me!” Rainbow Dash wasted no time in hopping back into the air and assuming a stance of bravado. Pinkie stopped her game of ring-around-the-Fluttershy to give a salute alongside the blue pegasus. With Fluttershy's front hooves still in Pinkie's grasp, she was, against her will, giving the same salute. Its potential patriotism was undermined by her pitiful whimper. Rarity face-hoofed while Applejack titled her stetson ashamedly over her face.
The briefest of smiles crossed Luna's face before she turned and began to trot away up the staircase.
“Come.”
~\\***\***/***//~
Luna did not visit the Great Hall very often. Nopony did. It was a room reserved for only the most important visits and occasions, and while those could sometimes be in the spirit of festivity, the other memories the hall offered were rather more taxing to the spirit. Luna thought she caught a whisper from Pinkie Pie about what was such a big deal about a “silly statue”. Though Pinkie grew uneasy when her friends whispered reminders about Discord to her.
At that name, Luna looked at each of the stained glass windows, and in her silent grief, resisted her compulsion to obliterate the ones that showed the draconequus. It was childish of her, but Luna had been trying to defer at least some of the blame for all of what was currently happening onto Discord. While she doubted that even Discord would have been able to predict the chain of events that had followed his return to the Canterlot Sculpture Garden, it seemed suitably ridiculous for his chaotic tastes, and it felt better to be angry at him than Celestia.
But Luna knew she couldn't continue to lie to herself. The draconequus had lifted neither a paw nor a claw in these recent events. There was certainly a plan in motion, but it was too direct to be anything but something of her sister's design. Each simple step lead to the next:
Twilight had taken something. Celestia wanted it back. That something was...
A pony? The prospect of such a prisoner was certainly as grim as it was strange, but that was only the start of Luna's confusion. She thought again of her suspicions about the rest of the garden. If they were correct... but then what did Knowledge matter to Celestia over all of the others? Luna did not dismiss the possibility that Twilight had freed Knowledge from stone. It would explain the statements made by the guards earlier. But that just brought her back to the same question as before.
Why didn't my spell work? And why would Twilight's?
This was no good. She was going in circles, and needed a focal point.
Knowledge. Her sister had always been rather on the nose with her bestowed titles.
Luna realised she had been staring at the sealed door at the end of the Great Hall for the past minute or so. She turned around, and the clearly alarmed group of ponies breathed a note of relief in unison. “Forgive me,” Luna offered them. “I was miles away.”
“Um... Princess?” Fluttershy asked.
“Yes, Fluttershy, isn't it?” Luna turned to the pegasus, who withered slightly as her courage began to dry up.
“Yes, Princess. Why are we, um...”
Luna frowned. “Thou art—you are wondering why you are here in this chamber.”
Fluttershy nearly squeaked as Luna completed her line of thought for her. She nodded meekly. “This is where the Elements of Harmony are kept. But, why are we here? How can the Elements help with Twilight, and, um... Princess Celestia?”
“The Elements of Harmony were not named casually, Fluttershy. They are bound to their bearers, as much as the bearers are bound to each other in friendship. If you wish to find Twilight Sparkle, then her element would be your best map to start from. Twilight found her element, and it can find her right back.” Luna turned to frown at the sealed door again. “It is just a matter of whether or not I can attune the enchantments my sister placed on the Elements correctly.”
“Beg pardon, Princess,” Applejack cut in. “But what about that there door in the way? Celestia said las' time we were here that nopony but her could get through.”
No sooner had Applejack finished did everypony remember Discord's initial bypass of the door's sealing spell. Rainbow Dash opened her mouth, but Luna's foresight once again made itself known.
“Discord is a draconequus, Rainbow Dash. It would not be a stretch to say that same rules do not apply.” Rainbow nodded, placated. “That being said, Discord would probably run into difficulty trying to replicate his theft, were he still free.”
“Why?” Pinkie Pie was apparently beginning to feel left out of the discussion, and felt the need to chime in, even if it was with only one word.
“We have my sister to thank for that.” Princess Luna turned away from the confused faces of the group to walk closer towards the sealed door. “As you know, when Discord was defeated, your elements were returned to this hall...”
“And Princess Celestia placed her enchantments and sealed the Elements again, of course,” Rarity finished, her tone giving away that she thought they were just retreading old territory.
Luna gave a patient hum as she leaned her head down and inserted her horn into a small hole in the door's centre. “You are only half correct, Rarity. My sister did place the enchantments,” her horn glowed blue for a brief moment before she slid it back out of the lock, “but she entrusted me to be the one to seal the door again.”
Said door began to hum with life as the sun pattern upon it was spilt in two down the middle with a bright blue glow. Six circular and equally spaced dots, three on each side, resonated with the same energy, and the door pulled apart. Inside the chamber was a short pedestal adorned with a similar sun insignia. Sitting conspicuously on top was a small, gaudy case.
“I don't understand.” Rarity shook her head, too confused by Luna's admission to be enamoured by the protective case's elegance.
“Nor do I,” Luna admitted. It was one of the few remaining things that was giving her pause. If the garden was what she imagined it to be, and if Celestia had a hoof in it, why then would Celestia allow her any access to the Elements of Harmony, let alone give her sole access? The apparent show of trust would be heartwarming to Luna if it did not fly in the face of her sister's current behaviour.
But still, Celestia cared too deeply, for whatever reason, about the stolen statue for there to be nothing to Luna's suspicions. And there was still the matter of the enchantments upon the Elements themselves to consider. Certainly there were some to prevent further tampering by Discord, but that was not the only bit of magic Luna felt upon the Elements as she removed them from their casing and hoofed them over to their appropriate bearers. Any tracking enchantment Celestia had cast would not bend to Luna's will easily.
Luna removed the last element with trepidation. While anypony could feel the power that any of the five necklaces resonated, the crown in the princess's grasp positively hummed. She held it aloft in front of her face, staring at the amethyst starburst on top like it could be intimidated into revealing its secrets. Luna's horn brightened as she pulled at each individual thread of magic wound around the crown, and eventually she felt just the faintest presence of her sister. At that, she began to repeat Twilight Sparkle's name to herself as she concentrated harder and harder on the located enchantment. Her eyes squinted, Luna having to fight to wrest some measure of temporary control over the magic Celestia had placed. The crown itself was an even greater hindrance. The Element of Magic was fiercely uncooperative without its wielder nearby, fighting Luna's foreign magic like a petulant child.
Twilight Sparkle. I need to find Twilight Sparkle.
Luna saw a spark, smelled a whiff of smoke, and heard a collective gasp. She ignored her burning horn, the strain of forcing through both her sister's and the crown's magics threatening to split her skull, and looked to where she had heard the sound. All of Twilight Sparkle's friends had gathered around one of the tall hall windows, and were looking expectantly towards the western horizon, ignoring the sunny glare in their eyes. Luna noted how Rainbow Dash seemed to be pawing around the window’s edges, looking futilely for some way to open it.
“What is it?” Luna asked them. She had her hopes, but wished to hear it from the five's own mouths if the enchantment had worked or not.
Five heads turned to her in one synchronous motion, and their eyes all held the same desperate recognition. Fluttershy spoke first.
“Twilight. I saw her. I felt her. I really did.”
Luna allowed herself a smile, but it fell away as the chorus line of friends now voiced a joint distress. Pinkie Pie spoke this time.
“Hey!” she cried miserably. “Where did she go? Twilight!” Pinkie called as if Twilight could hear her far past the mountainside.
Luna was no stranger to the function of tracking spells. They were quite a useful means of ensuring one never lost a particularly important or sentimental item. Tracking spells on living beings, however, always had stronger pulls. The enchanted individual could feel the emotions—the joys, sorrows, and distresses—of the other, an invisible tether feeding into and connecting the two souls. And unless the spell was cancelled or cut off by some means, the pull never lessened, the rope always losing slack to make the feelings stronger. The five little ponies were looking about themselves in discomfort, longing for Twilight's brief presence to return to their beating hearts.
“It is as I feared.” Luna gazed forlornly at each of the five worn necklaces, then back down to the crown still in her grasp. “My sister's enchantments resist my efforts. The Element of Magic rejects me. Together they are making tracking Twilight Sparkle... difficult.” She looked at each of the five ponies in turn. She floated the crown over to them, and Rarity hesitantly took hold of it in her pale blue magic. Luna remembered the gathering at the windows. “Though I imagine you have at least some direction by now, correct?”
“The west,” Applejack and Rainbow Dash said together.
Luna nodded. “Then that cuts your search in half.” She looked to the descending afternoon sun, then back again. “We have run out of time. Take Twilight Sparkle's element. I... I know it is hardly ideal, but you must see if you can get the tracking enchantment to activate again, however briefly. It is your only hope to narrow your search down further.” She looked pointedly at Rarity, who suddenly looked very unsure of herself. “Rarity, whatever protection the enchantment had has been weakened from strain that much I know. Besides, as a fellow bearer, the Element of Magic might see you as a more worthy confidant. It may prove to be, as you say, generous?”
With a demure giggle, Rarity placed the crown into her saddlebags. “I will try, Princess. We will try. Though I must ask, whatever will you be doing?”
“My place is here, Rarity, now more than ever with my sister's absence.” Luna briefly wondered if this was how her sister felt running Equestria without her. It was indeed much the same thing as before; an uninvited guest driving a wedge between the two of them. “But I will be in touch. You have only to lay your heads to rest, and I will see you. As does Twilight Sparkle.” She saw the hopeful glimmers that appeared in her little ponies' eyes, and felt their morale could stand to be indulged. “If I see her, I will let you know.”
“Thank you, Princess.” Applejack took her hat off, and bowed her head. “That means Equestria to us.”
“You are most welcome. Go now,” Luna insisted with a flick of her head to the chamber doors. “The night watches you all, and brings you to a swift dawn.”
The five departed, galloping out the chamber doors with a call for Rainbow Dash to slow down being thrown along the outer halls. Luna hoped that whatever camaraderie the friends shared would be enough to convince the Element of Magic to allow Rarity access to the tracking enchantment. Luna's magic was not strong enough to fully rework the tracking enchantment to her own bidding. Were it, she would use it to track Celestia down herself whilst the friends saw to Twilight.
Luna hadn't said so, but she too had felt pulls from the element. She had held on just long enough to achieve a tenuous connection before being repelled; for a few moments, she had felt Twilight and Celestia's shared fear of a dozen white lies, a single black spot of guilt sticking it all together. It had been just long enough for Luna to send another oft-used, but rarely exploited, spell through the link to her sister.
I'm sorry, Tia.
~\\***\***/***//~
Where did she go? Where did she—there! Knowledge leapt in-between two ponies sitting on a cloudy bench, ignoring their annoyed voices to listen for Twilight's. She had nearly been separated from the unicorn by the main street's crowd, and she was glad the fountain area in the circular intersection had been clear enough to cut through.
Twilight had stopped and was looking between the northern and eastern exits of the intersection for guards. As Knowledge closed the gap between them, she turned. The unicorn's worried eyes calmed slightly upon meeting Knowledge's before they drifted away and widened. Knowledge turned around, but knew what she would see.
Standing atop the fountain statue of Celestia was a white-coated pegasus guard. Like some oddball albino bird perched on its master's head, his neck gave a jerky swivel as he turned his attention to Twilight. Seeing Twilight's returned stare as his invitation, the guard abandoned his sentry, cawing out his single command as he flew for her and Knowledge. “Halt!”
A winged shadow appeared briefly over Knowledge, before the nauseating sensation of teleportation enveloped her again. When it had ebbed away, she looked back towards the crowded main street to spot the guard twisting his head this way and that inside a circle of very confused bystanders. He froze suddenly and turned, his dark, vulturous eyes finding Knowledge's.
Knowledge felt a tug around her neck as Twilight wrapped it in her magic, and started down the less crowded eastern street. “C'mon!” Twilight yelled at her, the unicorn's eyes doing their best to apologize for her roughness. Twilight maintained the leash between them, Knowledge too afraid of them losing sight of each other again to protest.
“There! There!” the bird guard called to a hunting troupe of two unicorn guards, pointing a directing hoof down at Twilight and Knowledge before charging ahead in his own pursuit. Knowledge braced herself, and, on cue, she disappeared further down the road with Twilight again. As Twilight caught her breath, Knowledge turned to watch for the guards again.
“I-I can't keep this up,” Twilight panted, and pressed a hoof to her forehead. “It hurts too much. I... I don't... I...” Twilight steadied herself, and looked at Knowledge for a long moment. Before Knowledge could question her stare, Twilight walked around the western street corner, dragging Knowledge along with her.
There was a columned bridge leading across a small weather-factory causeway, and Twilight did not hesitate to leap into the liquid rainbows, messing the colours together into an unappealing mustard-yellow. Knowledge looked across the length of the bridge. A white pegasus filly was hanging playfully by her front limbs off the railing of the bridge, and she looked down at the splash of Twilight's dive into the rainbow river. She turned to stare at Knowledge. It lasted only a moment before Knowledge was unwittingly following Twilight headfirst into the causeway by the magical tether on her neck. She broke the surface, spitting, snorting, and wiping the spiciness from her mouth, nose, and eyes. After catching her breath, she paddled clumsily over to Twilight against the ivory wall.
Beneath the narrow bridge, the two ponies hugged close to each other, and held as still as they could to keep the flow of the river of rainbow steady around them. They flinched as the pegasus filly from earlier peeked over the bridge's edge to stare upside-down at the two of them. She opened her little mouth, but Twilight pressed a hoof to her own, while Knowledge mouthed as frantically as possible.
Hide and seek. Hide and seek.
The little filly tilted her head, but nodded all the same. She continued to hang upside-down and stare at the two of them however, and neither Twilight nor Knowledge risked speaking up to tell her off. There was silence for a minute or so, only broken by the double march of metal steps on the bridge above. The two mares held their breath.
One of the guards offhoofedly told the filly to watch her step around the bridge's edge, and the filly sat up to speak in affirmation. She said nothing of Twilight and Knowledge. Apparently, she thought the guards were the appointed seekers, and was worried about ruining the “game”. But when another loud splash suddenly came from below her, she dived onto her belly to look under the bridge again. Her sky-blue eyes widened to match Knowledge's, as the two of them stared at Twilight's suddenly limp form.
“Twilight!” Knowledge couldn't help herself as she screamed, and she only dimly noticed the filly ducking away again and calling for somepony. “Twilight, what is it?” When there was no answer, Knowledge roughly shook her. “Twilight, wake up! Twilight!” Twilight looked as completely at peace as she had only a short two nights ago. Knowledge's shaking left her unsteady, and she felt the deadweight unicorn push her shoulder off kilter from her position against the ivory wall. Her face was promptly splashed into the rainbows again.
Knowledge lost her grip on Twilight and began to flail helplessly as the current pulled her steadily towards the river's drop-off only a short twenty feet away. Twilight floated face-up and content alongside her, her tether severed from her unconsciousness. Her limbs were spread angel-like, as if inadvertently prepared for their funeral dive off the river’s edge. After her second dip into the spicy colours, Knowledge had run out of breath to spare, and her struggles began to weaken, the river churned up into a sickly black ink around her.
As she neared darkness's grasp, Knowledge felt the sensation of air beneath her. She tried hard not to open her eyes and see their end speeding towards them, but could not help herself. It took her a few seconds of staring to realise that the ground and rainbow falls were instead moving further away, and a few more to realise the sensation of hooves hooked beneath her front legs. She held her stomach just long enough to be touched down in the middle of the columned bridge, and retched spicy black ink into the white clouds under her.
When she heard a soft chuff behind her, Knowledge turned to stare frightfully at two pegasus guards, one of them the squawker from before. His dark eyes regarded her for a short moment, before he turned and nodded to his partner. After a nod back, the second guard walked to the opposite wall of the bridge, where two unicorns were keeping watch over Twilight. The soaked mare was still lifeless, slumped upright against the boundary. Detaching two pairs of shackles from a clip on his armor, the pegasus guard began to lock them around each of Twilight's legs. Meanwhile, one of the unicorn's began fastening an odd blue ring with a keyhole around Twilight's horn.
“She almost drowned!” The filly from earlier bounced excitedly at the scene's sidelines. Already Knowledge could see that there were small crowds at either end of the short bridge being held back by even more guards. “The nice lady tried to save her! I saw, I saw!” The second unicorn guard turned and tried to ask the filly if she could see her parents in the crowd.
The bird-guard trotted up to Knowledge. “Are you alright, miss? She didn't hurt you, did she?”
It took Knowledge a few seconds to register what the guard was implying. He thought she'd been a hostage. She couldn't really blame him, what with red lines from the tether still present around her neck. “N-No. I'm fine.” In truth, she could hardly stand, let alone imagine herself walking very far, completely bogged down and stained with rainbows, but she didn't care about any of that for the moment. She hid her miserable face behind her soaked mane.
Failed. We've failed.
No, they couldn't fail! She could still help Twilight! She could—
“We'll be taking her away now, Miss...?”
Knowledge ignored the bid for her name. She couldn't answer it truthfully, anyways. “Could I...” Knowledge hesitated, and considered telling the guard to forget it, but mentally shook her head. She couldn't just abandon her new friend. What exactly could she do without her? “Could I come with you?” At the guard's head tilt, Knowledge clarified. “I know her.”
The bird-guard hesitated, before turning back to his comrades. After finding they could not wake Twilight, they were busying themselves trying to sort out the weight of both her and her new shackles, and load her onto the largest stallion's back. After a few exchanges, the guard turned back to Knowledge. “Very well. We require you for questioning anyways.” He grew thoughtful for a moment. “If you do know her, perhaps you can persuade her to be more cooperative when she wakes up.”
“I... I just want to help her,” Knowledge sighed miserably.
The guard nodded to her, and then to his group behind him. As they passed over on the east side of the bridge and parted through the crowd, a familiar little voice on the left spoke up near Knowledge's knees.
“Is the nice lady's friend okay?” called the filly. She was clutched in a raincloud grey mare's front legs, craning her neck up to the burly stallion carrying Twilight on his back. When the guard ignored her, and the filly saw that Twilight wasn't waking up, she turned to Knowledge, expectant, but rapidly growing fearful.
Knowledge looked at Twilight's face. Her awkward drape over the guard's armoured back looked impossible to sleep through. Blood had rushed to her head and reddened her cheeks, as if in embarrassment from the gathered crowd.
“She'll be fine,” Knowledge's mumbled hollowly, staring at Twilight. Black ink dripped from the unicorn's face like tears.
~\\***\***/***//~
“Stop,” Celestia pleaded, nearly in tears. Her younger doppelganger's smile as she spoke made it worse. “Please, stop.”
In pointless experimentation, Celestia brought one hoof up to try and stifle her younger, albeit larger, clone's words. The only effect was the almost comical image of the doppelganger chewing on a white pegasus pony's hoof. The younger Celestia continued to speak, oblivious, and the older Celestia brought both her hooves back to cover her ears. But she was too late to block the voice out, and she heard that awful name, the light tone making it sound disgustingly delicate. As innocent as could be.
She is not innocent.
Both Celestia and her younger clone were sitting in noon court. The latter was on the throne to the left, in the direction of the sunrise, and speaking towards a high-ranking female guard. The former sat despairing and sidelined on Luna's broken throne, small enough to fit into it for the time being. The high-noon sun streamed through the large window behind them, but only the fake Celestia and her guard cast a shadow. The sun shone straight through the real Celestia to create the shadow of a chipped tooth on the flat slate, as if she was just as immaterial as everything else.
“Are you alright, Your Majesty?” the guard asked, and at first Celestia thought she was being addressed. She remembered her predicament, and opened her mouth to sigh, but her clone beat her to it.
“I will not lie, Checkered Flag,” the clone addressed the black and white mare, “I am worried about...”
There was more, but Celestia refused to hear it, and blocked her own ears again. It mattered not, as she read Knowledge's real name again on her doppelganger's lips. With every new word said, Celestia's futile wish to wake up grew.
Celestia remembered sitting at the cafe table, her tea consumed, when the tracking enchantment had reached her. It gave her a brief warmth in her chest, and she'd smiled with quiet delight before it darkened and grew cold inside of her. At first, she thought it was merely the full effects of her enchantment taking root. She had certainly begun to feel the stinging fear and despair from Twilight Sparkle, but then it grew too cold to be normal or tolerable.
Celestia's rising panic gave her no time to act on it, as before it could rise, her body went dead. Her head hit the table hard, turning her empty dishes bottoms-up. Before her eyes had been forced shut, she'd felt a needle-like jolt of regret. It was not from Twilight Sparkle. Somepony else had made a brief connection with her. Manipulated that connection to cast a powerful sleep spell on her more vulnerable pegasus pony body.
Luna.
In the past, Luna had used sleep spells to calm the restless at night, and even though she had yet to get back into the full-stride of her work, she would still use such magics to help those in the castle and Canterlot sleep soundly. Celestia had never needed to accept the help. While she was no stranger to such spells, her restless nights were the ones in the past; when Luna was not near, and could offer no aid. Besides, the one Luna had cast upon her now was not like the others; an easy, subtle slide into blissful slumber, so minute and gradual that it could easily be mistaken for simple exhaustion. This one had seized Celestia, and was now intent to drown her. In a form not her own, Celestia unwillingly watched her darkest, abyssal memories be pulled back into the forefront of her mind. And there was no way to escape herself as those memories were stolen by another.
Trapped. I'm trapped.
She couldn't even use her magic. Luna had not been merciful with her spell, and Celestia was stuck in her Mirror Image disguise, unable to cast it off. Would that she could fly away from this madness on her shrunken wings, but she spied a light blue glow over each of the chamber windows and doors. Luna meant to keep her here until the truth had been said.
“Luna!” Celestia looked to the high ceiling and called in dismay. “You don't know what you're doing, Luna! Stop this! Stop this, now!”
There was no answer. Luna was clearly paying mind only to the younger Celestia, and the older reluctantly followed her lead. How far had the conversation been going on for, anyways?
“...has made not one friend, and sent not one report to me in months.” Celestia remembered this discussion with Checkered Flag well. She'd appointed the trusted guardspony as an overseer for her magical students at the time. “All this time spent in the castle, away from her remaining family, is poisoning her. And I'm responsible for allowing it in the first place.
“We thought... I thought I could keep helping her. But I can feel her drifting further away from everypony else every day.” The younger Celestia shook her head. “And that is why I am going to ask her to step down.”
“W-What? But, Your Highness...” Checkered Flag had always been rather frank, even with the princess, but her shock had her slipping into formal speech. “I mean, we're all a little preoccupied right now, aren't we? Surely she only needs a little guidance?”
The younger Celestia's eyes now looked anxious as she looked away from Checkered Flag, levitating her translucent crown off of her head to slowly turn it this way and that way as if she were a fidgety young foal. “Yes, but I am not the one suited to offer it, at least not anymore. It is like you say, Checkered Flag. We are all occupied as we prepare to depart from this place.” She nodded her head to a window on her left side, and Checkered Flag turned to look. Beyond the glow of Luna's force-field, the vaguest outlines of structures were visible on a distant mountainside.
Yes. New Canterlot was under construction. Forgetting Luna's scrutiny for a moment, Celestia recalled how every day for everypony in Old Canterlot, as it had been newly and cynically christened, was an effort. This nine-hundred year old day she was reliving was less than a decade removed from the move to the new Canterlot, and everypony was struggling to maintain either the building effort with hammer and nail, or the push to keep the growing Everfree Forest at bay with axe and saw. Her warding enchantments had only been able to go so far, and through the back window Celestia could spy a few weeping willows edging their roots further up the castle perimeter.
“So, her loyalty is cause for punishment?” Checkered Flag offered dryly.
The younger Celestia replaced her crown, and levelled Checkered Flag with a stern stare. “I am not punishing anypony. This is the right thing, Checkered Flag. Somepony who has experienced such... trauma should not be worrying about studies at the moment.”
“And what of the future?”
“That is up to...”
It was then that the far door to the chamber creaked open a bit, drawing everypony’s attention. Checkered Flag marched angrily over to the door, and made ready to berate whoever had been eavesdropping on the other side. When the door was flung all of the way open, however, her expression changed to one of surprise and then to sadness. It held no candle to the sorrow of the newly revealed visitor.
The mare had apparently been wiping away her tears with her foreleg before moving to use her frosting-white tail instead. The damp patches looked like watered spots of grass in the teal of her coat. The underneaths of her dark rose eyes were equally fertilized as fresh tears spilled from them. Those same eyes beheld the doppelganger in a look of absolute hurt and betrayal. The open display of pain was a bit too much for Celestia, as even she couldn't help but feel pity as she looked upon the mare whom she had once loved, but had grown to hate so much.
“Lodestone,” Celestia winced as her clone implored pityingly, “I didn't know you were—”
The mare known as Lodestone promptly turned and cantered in the opposite direction down the hallway.
The younger Celestia sighed, and turned away from the door. Her gaze fell over Luna's throne, and inadvertently made eye-contact with the elder. Celestia thought the same words now as she did then.
When had things become so complicated?
The younger princess stood up to go after her misunderstanding student, stopping only to give a brief nod and a word to meet again later to Checkered Flag. With a burst of golden light, she disappeared. A faint, but disturbingly familiar wail of despair came from somewhere further outside the hall. Celestia felt the urge to follow, but without her magic all she could do was walk into the spot her clone had been only moments ago. Even Checkered Flag had left the hall to see to her other duties.
But Celestia knew she wasn't alone.
“Lodestone.” Celestia flinched. “Lovely name. Familiar name, Tia?” Celestia didn't know which way to turn, the voice of her younger sister echoing accusingly from all around her.
“Luna, please...”
“No, sister. Enough is enough.” Luna's voice reappeared directly behind Celestia, and when she spun around, Luna was sitting in the throne on the left. Her eyes shone as she gave a sad little smile. “These past couple of days, you have hurt me, Tia. More than you know. I truly thought we were past such things as these secrets.” She looked to the ceiling to take a quick breath. “But I am not innocent either. I can tell I have hurt you in return, bringing you to this place.” Her hoof ran slowly over a patch of tear dots left on the throne's handle. “And I don't want to hurt you or be hurt by you anymore.” She awkwardly patted a hoof to the intact throne next to her, and her smile grew just the slightest bit in invitation. “Sit with me. Talk with me, just like you wanted to.”
Celestia shook her head, and took a step back, her movements weighed down heavily with fear.
Luna's smile faltered. “Celestia... I'm not angry, I swear it.”
When neither pony moved, Luna's disappointed sorrow turned briefly to wondering. She nodded her head to the sealed door behind Celestia. “You knew her. Who is this, Lodestone?”
Celestia said nothing.
“She is the one with Twilight Sparkle, isn't she? Why does she protect her? What is Lodestone to her? To you?”
“To Twilight, she is only a danger. To myself, she was... she is...” Celestia's eyes hardened. She spat her words. “She is nothing to me.”
Luna did not answer, only giving a shake of her head. The meaning was obvious: I don't believe you. “Was it you?”
“Was what me?” Celestia tried feigning.
“Celestia, please. Honesty.”
Celestia sat on the floor, as exhausted as if she hadn't slept in years. Why like this? “No... No, Knowledge... she was never like the others.”
“Others?” Luna's voice was low with horror. “Are... Are all of them...”
Celestia turned away in shame. With one word, she damned herself. “Yes.”
The deed was done, but Celestia only felt the weight upon her grow heavier. How could she feel any other way? This was the exact opposite of how she had wanted to tell Luna, or anypony else the truth. She turned back to face her sister's green eyes.
Monster. Monster. Monster, the eyes screamed over and over again before Luna found her voice again. Despite her previous insistence, she whispered in barely contained disgust. “What in Equestria have you done?”
No, it couldn't happen like this! She hadn't wanted Luna to learn about Knowledge this way, but here was their regained future together, about to be damned on half of a truth! “Luna, it is not what you think.” Her sister's eyes narrowed. It was just as Celestia had feared. She had anticipated this reaction a thousand times before in her mind, and now it was happening before her. Everything was out of her control, but she had to keep trying to get through to Luna anyways. “She... Knowledge was—”
“You keep calling her that.” Luna's voice became disdainful, as if Celestia were hurling insults.
“And so should you. It is better her real name be forgotten, Luna.”
Luna sighed wearily. “So, if you cannot hide what she is, you will instead hide who she is? When will these lies end, sister?” Luna's revulsion and contempt left her for a moment, too tired to maintain the front. Celestia nearly smiled in sympathy. All they both wanted was for this madness to be over.
“They already have, Luna,” Celestia tried to sound sincere, but Luna's unconvinced look remained.
“And what of when you find Lodestone?” Luna continued, paying no mind to Celestia's distress at the name. “What of when you find Twilight Sparkle? Do you mean to imprison the both of them just like—”
“Knowledge was never imprisoned.”
“What?”
This was it. Luna needed to believe her. “It is like I said, Luna. Knowledge was never like the others. Even I could not affect the spell cast over her. All I could do was keep watch over her in the garden.”
“What are you saying, Tia?”
“I'm saying that she's been waiting. Biding her time for another to come along. If Knowledge has her way, then she will never leave Twilight Sparkle.”
“Waiting? You mean to say...”
Celestia nodded, and stepped just a bit closer to the dais. “Luna, she did that to herself.”