Succession

by Helrael

20 - Change of Plans

The dull thump of a large book being closed and an annoyed sigh drew Twilight’s gaze away from the tome she was reading herself and toward Artemis. As they had been doing every late afternoon for the past three days after their heated argument, the two unicorns were sitting in The Manehattan Central Library’s Ancient Texts wing, a place that had thoroughly disappointed Twilight from day one. The ‘wing’ was nothing more than a fifteen by ten foot archive room hidden deep within the basement of the library. Three of the walls were almost entirely composed of drawers, all unlabeled and all full of dusty books with blank covers. A table took up the center of the room, seated at which were Artemis, Twilight, and her two newly appointed adjudicators, a unicorn stallion going by the name of Glitterhoof, and an earth pony mare, Sweetums.

Spike lay toward the far wall of the room, snoring gently. The young dragon had insisted on joining the two unicorns and helping with the research, but as Twilight had expected, the dull work and dusty atmosphere had sedated him quite thoroughly.

Both adjudicators would likely have been in the same state had they not borrowed a few books from the fiction section of the library, providing them with a small measure of entertainment while keeping an eye on their charge. Twilight and Artemis, meanwhile, sat buried in ancient history books and a few texts on miscellaneous subjects they had thought might help.

“That book is probably older than this library,” Twilight observed worriedly, returning her gaze to her own tome on myths and legends. “You should be more gentle with it.”

“That was the last one,” Artemis sighed, pushing the book away to the corner of their shared table as she had done so many times during their three days of study. The book bumped against a stack of dozen books, and only a gentle nudge of Twilight’s magic kept it from toppling off the edge of the table. “Nothing. There’s not gonna be anything on him here. All the really old texts were in Canterlot. I’d wager everything in this room is post-Nightmare Moon.”

“Maybe...” Twilight mumbled to Artemis, skimming through a section in her own book that had caught her attention. After a moment, however, she hung her head in defeat and sighed. “Nevermind. It sounded like him, but it was just another poem about Nightmare Moon.” She closed the book and dropped it onto the table with a thud. “You’re right; he’s not here.”

“So much for Civil’s help,” Artemis remarked, casting a sidelong glance at the sizeable stack of useless books that had accumulated on either side of the two ponies. “No mention of him whatsoever.”

“There’s been plenty of deities of fear revered or… well, feared through history,” Twilight offered, teleporting the book out of the dusty old room and back to where she had found it in the main library. “But none of them are him. Mostly just Nightmare Moon.”

“And you’re sure the two of them aren’t the same thing?”

Twilight nodded hesitantly. “He said so. In Neighbury.”

“And you believe him? He’s not exactly on our side.”

“I don’t know. I’ve met him a few times now, and... He’s evil and vicious, definitely, but he’s not… deceptive. I don’t think so, at least. He won’t give me any straight answers the few times I’ve talked to him but he doesn’t outright lie. He told me it was beneath him.”

“Well, these books aren’t giving us anything.” Artemis sighed, setting to work on levitating the texts into their appropriate drawers one at a time. “What has he told you? Vague answers are better than none.”

Twilight took hold of the sizeable remainder of books, shelving them all simultaneously.

“His special talent is spreading fear,” she answered, starting out with the most recent information. “We’ve both seen he’s capable of some pretty exotic magic, namely that giant spell inscription and his mind magic. He’s very interested in...” Twilight fell silent, and Artemis raised an eyebrow at her.

“Interested in what?”

Twilight shook her head and grimaced slightly, and Artemis caught her meaning, nodding her understanding. If the two adjudicators had noticed anything amiss, they didn’t show it, content with simply listening. “Anything else?”

A deep rumble resounding throughout the entire library’s basement interrupted the conversation, and the three ponies besides Twilight rose to their hooves in alarm as the entire room shuddered. Even Spike woke up, though his sleepy murmuring went unheard as the doors to the Ancient Texts wing burst open, a trio of guards standing in its opening.

“Council Member Artemis!” The one in the front called out. “Manehattan is under attack!”

“Attack!?” Artemis echoed incredulously, raising an eyebrow again. “What’s going on?”

Another tremor, this time closer, shook the basement, and the lead guard winced. “It’s windigoes. There’s a swarm of ‘em attacking the city.”

“We reckon they’re the ones from Canterlot,” the guard to the left chipped in.

“Windigoes…” Artemis muttered in disbelief, falling back onto her chair.

“We should be alright if we stay down here. They’re only targeting the surface.”

“What do you mean ‘only targeting the surface’!?” Twilight demanded, rising from her seat. “We can’t just let them attack the city! We have to do something!” Her eyes went briefly to Artemis, who looked halfway between backing Twilight up and simply complying with the guards’ commands. “I have to do something!” she corrected herself.

“The situation’s under control‒” the lead guard tried explaining, but a third, more violent tremor interrupted him. The unmistakable sound of a section of the library collapsing reached the seven ponies’ ears.

Twilight looked up at the shuddering ceiling before returning her gaze again to the guard.

“It’s... not under control,” he admitted. “Yet. Look, my job is to keep the five of you safe. There are hundreds of soldiers up there whose job is keeping the city safe.” Another tremor hit the library, and Twilight nearly lost her balance. The guard winced, but gave Twilight a stern look when she opened her mouth to speak. “I know what you’re going to say, so don’t. They’re handling it!”

“I can help!”

“Twilight,” Artemis broke in, giving her injured leg a worried look. “Maybe it’s best you sit this one out. Just this once?”

“The entire Sword of Equestria is up there with the local guard,” the lead guard insisted. “They have experience with windigoes. It’s gonna be alright.”

“The entire Sword isn’t there!” Twilight retorted. “They’re missing one very important member, aren’t they?”

“Look, I don’t know what to tell you,” the guard sighed with exasperation. “Manehattan’s a war zone right now. You’re a civilian. Even if I wanted to, I don’t have the authority to let you out there. Right now, only Council Member Artemis or Scarlet Bolt have that authority, and I doubt Artemis wants you anywhere near...” The guard trailed off as his gaze went to the council member, seeing her thoughtful expression.

Artemis gave a reluctant sigh and rose from her seat to go to the door, motioning for Twilight to follow. “Twilight, can I... have a word with you?”

Noting the many eyes upon her, including those of her two adjudicators, Twilight was more than happy to leave, following after the unicorn into the dark, dank corridors of the library’s basement.

Upon her first visit to the so-called Ancient Texts wing, it had been clear to Twilight that the hallways in the library’s cellar were not intended for public use. It was a fact that only further cemented itself in her mind as she followed Artemis, who wordlessly set off toward the eastern portion of the building, bringing them both deeper into the basement. Cardboard boxes full of unsorted books littered the floor wherever Twilight looked, and sections of low-hanging piping under the ceiling forced her to bow her head as she walked, waiting for Artemis to speak her mind.

“You aren’t a member of the Sword anymore,” she finally said, keeping her gaze fixed on the floor in front of her.

Another rumble sounded from somewhere above ground, and the accumulated dust atop the piping overhead fell down around the two unicorns in thin rivulets. The sparse lighting flickered off for a moment, and Twilight nearly tripped over a cardboard box in the middle of the corridor.

“Maybe not,” Twilight said, shoving the box up against a wall with her magic. “But they need me now.”

“Equestria needs you more.” Artemis stopped and looked back at her. “I need you. You’re not with the Sword; you’re with me.”

“So I should do what you say?” Twilight observed drily, to which Artemis immediately shook her head.

“No! Why won’t you believe me when I say I see you as an equal!?” Her gaze fell to her hooves. “You’re probably far above me, actually... You’re far above us all, Twilight. You can’t die.”

“I won’t.”

“How can you be so sure!?” Artemis demanded of her, turning to face the lavender unicorn. “Why do you keep doing this!? You barely got out of Canterlot alive, but now you’re ready for more!?”

“It’s my responsibility‒”

“Why!? You aren’t on the Sword anymore, Twi! You aren’t a guard, you aren’t a soldier..! You’re my partner now! We don’t have to deal with all this!”

“This isn’t just some random raid,” Twilight argued, standing her ground against the agitated Artemis. “They aren’t gonna go away on their own! I’ve seen the windigoes in Canterlot; the local guard ‒ even with the Sword ‒ won’t be enough.”

“Can’t you stay out of harm’s way at least once?” Artemis plead with her. “Can you be sure that alicorn’s mind magic isn’t putting you up to this? He seems awfully fond of almost getting you killed.”

“Key word being ‘almost’,” Twilight pointed out. “I’ll survive.”

“If you keep assuming that, you’re gonna wind up dead,” Artemis observed worriedly. “You might have to use your… that power. Are you prepared to do that?”

Twilight hesitated, and she found herself unable meet Artemis’ gaze. “I know what their weak points are. I can probably destroy any of them with a single spell.”

“I bet you can, but you’ll have to cast that spell a lot of times.” The light flickered again, and a deep boom sounded from somewhere above the two ponies. “That’s not the sound of just a hundred windigoes, Twilight. Unless they’re all focusing on taking down this library, there has to be thousands up there.”

“You’re saying I should let a thousand windigoes destroy Manehattan? I might not be able to take care of them all, but… but I can save a lot of lives.” Her eyes found Artemis’ again. “The two of us could save even more.”

Artemis shook her head. “I can’t do that, Twi. I’m the head of arcane and mundane sciences in Equestria. I have too many responsibilities to risk getting myself killed like this. If you had any sense, you’d see the same goes for you.”

Twilight averted her gaze for only a brief moment as she gave a heavy sigh before locking eyes with the unicorn again. “Maybe I have a few more responsibilities than you, then.”

Artemis’ gaze fell, taking on a decidedly more pained expression. “Maybe you do…” She was quiet for a while before giving a sad smile. “I still wish you’d remember to take care of yourself once in a while too.”

“But you’re letting me go?”

The violet unicorn gave a hesitant nod. “Make sure the Element of Generosity and the other council members are alright.” Another tremor hit the corridor, and a stack of boxes toppled to the floor, spilling books all over the floor. “And try to keep this library from coming down on top of me.” She grimaced at her own words. “At least, that’s what I told you if anypony asks.” She sighed and waved Twilight off. “Go do whatever it is you have to do. Just… don’t die. Please.”

“I won’t,” Twilight promised her, giving her a nod of thanks. “Thank you.”

“Good lu‒” Twilight teleported in the middle of Artemis’ next sentence, and the sound of her voice was replaced by the wind screaming at her face as she reappeared on the street outside the library.

Manehattan had been cold ever since she had first arrived in the city four months ago. It had been colder still when she had awoken from her coma three weeks ago. But now the city was freezing. The frigid wind stung her all the way down to her lungs as she breathed, and she shut her eyes tightly out of fear that their moisture would freeze within seconds of exposure to the wicked elements besetting Equestria’s capital.

She formed a force field about herself to stave off the brunt of the murderous winds threatening to lift her off her hooves, but by the time she found it safe to open her eyes, her shield was covered in a layer of snow. It was gone with a pulse of her magic, allowing Twilight just enough time to see a rampant herd of windigoes stampeding through the street outside the library, galloping on the wind as they swept straight past Twilight and covered the entire street ‒ as well her force field ‒ in a thick layer of ice.

With the ice now surrounding her and protecting her from the blizzard outside, Twilight lowered her force field cautiously, gazing at the strange sight of all the ice surrounding her. Curiosity quickly turned to fear when the ice began encroaching on her, growing needle-sharp points all over that lunged out at her and came dangerously close to impaling her before she teleported away.

She reappeared within the reception of a large hotel a few blocks down the street, drawing several gasps from the huge crowd gathered there. Almost a hundred ponies seemed to have amassed in the large lobby, but from Twilight’s impression, they were anything but safe inside the building. The entire main entrance of the hotel was covered in the same, several feet thick coating of ice that had enveloped the street, and a dozen unicorns, both civilian and guards, were frantically trying to hold it back from spreading into the lobby. It was a losing battle from the looks of it, but with a few quick spells, Twilight drove the ice back and stopped its advance with a force field spanning the entire front of the lobby.

“Twilight Sparkle!” one of the unicorn guards called out, spotting her in the crowd of frightened ponies. “What are you doing here?” he asked urgently, galloping over to her.

“I’m here to help,” Twilight answered, letting her gaze roam the lobby, taking in the surroundings. “Isn’t there some basement you can take these ponies to?”

“It’s already full,” the guard explained.

“I work in the building behind this one,” a nearby earth pony stallion offered. “It has several basement floors.”

“But we’re trapped here,” the guard added. “We’d really appreciate any help you could offer.”

Twilight nodded. “Of course.”

The unicorn nodded his thanks and motioned for her to follow as he hurried through the crowd of ponies and the reception to get to the back of the hotel.

“So… what happened to your leg?” the guard asked once they had left the lobby, noticing Twilight’s limping and her slower pace.

“Long story,” she brushed him off, trying to catch up to the guard. Once they had passed through the kitchen and a large storage room, he stopped at a set of double doors covered in frost.

“The place that guy was talking about should be straight through the alley and across the street from here,” he explained. “We just need to get the civilians across.”

“Just,” Twilight echoed, grimacing.

“Aye,” the guard chuckled. He turned his back to the doors and kicked them open, breaking apart the ice that had been coating both sides of them. The winds outside threatened to slam the doors shut immediately, but Twilight managed to hold the doors open with her magic. She could see an alley leading straight ahead from the door she stood at, but the blizzard made it impossible to see the street the guard had mentioned.

“I’ll bridge the gap!” Twilight told the guard, shouting to be heard over the wind. “Get everyone through as fast as you can!”

The guard nodded and ran off to the lobby while Twilight stepped forwards, forming a force field that spanned the doorway but bulged outwards like a soap bubble when she approached it, slowly forming a shielded corridor as she progressed down the alley. She winced as a violent shower of hail rained down on her force field, slowing her down as she had to concentrate on maintaining the growing field. When she heard the ponies of the lobby following after her a minute later, she cancelled the shield she had left across the front of the hotel, allowing her to take quicker strides through the alley and out onto the street as she stretched out the corridor.

The street beyond the alley was covered only in a knee deep layer of snow and scattered hailstones which was easily pushed aside by her magic, and the air was for some reason a lot clearer out in the open, granting Twilight the visibility she needed. She saw the frozen entrance of her destination, and to her right, she was surprised to see the outline of Cristallum half a dozen blocks away. It faded from sight within seconds of her spotting it as the storm got worse, and Twilight pressed on, eager to get the ponies to safety so she could focus on finding Rarity.

Movement in the snow to her right caught her attention again, and Twilight paled when she saw the icy bipedal monsters she had seen in Canterlot trudging toward her and the ponies she was ferrying, numbering at least two dozen.

Her force field surged forward and connected to the main entrance of the building on the far side of the street, and she stepped to the side, motioning for those behind her to hurry up. “Keep going!” she shouted. “As fast as you can!” She backed out of the protective corridor, forming a protective bubble of her own as she did so, and turned to face the constructs. They seemed to sense her intention, for they all set into a charge at once, only for a burst of chain lightning from the unicorn’s horn to tear them apart. And as the bodies of ice exploded, Twilight could swear she saw a windigo erupt from each body, spiralling upward out of Twilight’s reach to join the gigantic herd that had conquered Manehattan’s sky.

Only now did she really look at the sky, she realized. It was as if she was back in Canterlot, with the night sky above aglow with countless windigoes. As they had done in the ruins of the old capital, the spirits were in a formation similar to the spiraling cloud patterns of hurricanes, with the eye in the middle of the storm letting in the light of the full moon.

As she watched, a group of several hundred of the spirits detached itself from the main force and swooped downwards, galloping around and ‒ as she looked more closely ‒ through a single floor of a skyscraper. The windows all shattered from the sheer cold, and within moments, the steel support beams of the structure turned too brittle to carry the skyscraper’s weight. With a loud groan and then a screech of metal, the skyscraper collapsed in on itself and toppled over in the opposite direction of Twilight.

Why are they doing this!?

Twilight recovered from the strange, terrifying sight, blasted apart another dozen of the icy constructs that had appeared out of the blizzard’s veil, then hobbled back to the fugitives within her force field, grabbing hold of a guard as she entered into the corridor once more.

“Can you tell me where I can find…” Twilight struggled to recall the name. “Le Couturiers... de… d’Albâtre? It’s a fashion boutique.”

The stallion raised an eyebrow, but smiled. “You’re lucky I live in that neighborhood, or I’d have no idea what you’re talking about.” He pointed down the street in the opposite direction of Cristallum. “Down that way, left at the second corner and four blocks down. Thanks for your help here, Twilight. Stay safe out there.”

Twilight nodded her thanks. “You too.” She motioned for the guard to get going, and once he and the last ponies had reached their new shelter, Twilight dispelled the large force field, once more forming a personal bubble around herself to protect against the blizzard.

The flurries around her cleared somewhat for just a moment, and a series of drawn out howls drew Twilight’s attention upwards, where another bunch of windigoes were dashing over the rooftops of the buildings right next to her, once again bringing with them a thick sheet of ice. The windigoes continued down the street toward Cristallum which had once again become visible to the unicorn. As they had with the skyscraper only moments before, Twilight could just barely see the ethereal herd sweep straight through a section of the palace, causing an entire tower to collapse.

Twilight forced herself to turn away from the sight and teleported down the street to the corner the guard had pointed out before leaving. She stopped there only long enough to make sure the path was clear before teleporting four blocks ahead. The intersection here had obviously been visited by the same windigoes that had galloped past the library, for the entire area, including Rarity’s fashion boutique, was covered in ice.

Worry started clawing at her heart as she approached the buried shop, but a part of her was sure her friend was still alright. With that in mind, she took a careful look at her surroundings to make sure no windigoes were nearby before melting a path through the ice and into the shop. From what she could see atop the ice, the windigoes’ magic had already shattered the boutique’s windows and overtaken most of the now freezing store.

Teleporting inside, Twilight confirmed that there were indeed no signs of life to be seen anywhere. On the bright side, she found no bodies either, meaning Rarity and Fleur de Lis must have sought shelter somewhere else. Taking another cursory look at the interior of the shop, Twilight noticed that most of the mannequins, all trapped within various, abstract sculptures of ice, had been stripped of their attire. In fact, the entire fashion boutique was remarkably empty of clothes.

She can’t have gotten far with all those dresses, Twilight observed, and her gaze soon settled on the back room, its double doors shut tight and almost completely free of any frost.

“Rarity?” Twilight called out, hobbling towards the doors and opening them with her magic. Beyond them, she found Rarity’s workshop, completely unrecognizable now as nearly every piece of clothing had been heaped into the center of the room in one great pile. Rarity lay within the center of said pile, using the many clothing articles to keep warm while using her magic to keep the frost from reaching the dresses. A symbiotic relationship of sorts, Twilight supposed.

“Twilight!” Rarity cried out when she spotted the other unicorn entering. “Thank goodness! What in Equestria is going on out there?”

“I don’t know much myself,” Twilight answered her as Rarity climbed out of her makeshift fort. “Something about the windigoes in Canterlot coming here.” She took another look at the pile of clothes. “Where’s Fleur?”

“Out shopping,” Rarity replied worriedly, sneaking a glance outside the shop as she approached Twilight. “I do hope she’s safe.”

“Ponies seem to be doing fine if they’re underground,” Twilight reassured her. “I’m sure she found shelter somewhere. Speaking of which, Artemis sent me to retrieve you… after I told her to. We’re going to the central library.”

Rarity gave her pile of clothes a longing look. “Is it safer there?”

“Artemis is there,” Twilight answered, motioning with her head for Rarity to follow as she limped toward the hole she had melted in the ice.

“What about you?”

“I’ll have to check on the council members too. And I bet they’re a lot worse off than you.”

“Is it that bad out there?”

Twilight didn’t answer, grabbing hold instead of Rarity and herself and teleporting out of the shop, establishing a force field instantly to shield them from the blizzard. “Hang on,” she said, closing her eyes and focusing. “I’m gonna jump us straight to the library.”

When she opened her eyes again, she and Rarity stood upon the iced-over street outside the library. Or rather, what remained of the library, the majority of which had collapsed in on itself due to the monumental quantities of ice accumulating all over its walls and roof. To the unicorns’ left lay the remnants of the skyscraper Twilight had seen collapse, having toppled onto the street they now stood upon, missing the library by only a few yards.

“Are you quite certain it’s safer here?” Rarity remarked, though she almost had to shout to be heard over the blizzard.

“Maybe not,” Twilight admitted, grimacing at the sight. Movement atop the fallen skyscraper caught her attention, and she saw another pack of the ice constructs headed their way. “But it’s the best we’ve got!” she said, teleporting the two into the basement of the ruined building. They appeared within the corridor she and Artemis had last spoken in, which had not gone unaffected by the blizzard topside. Both the far ends of it were blocked off by collapsed ceilings, and the water pouring from a broken pipe overhead had covered the floor in ice.

Twilight went left, toward the room she and Artemis had spent the past three days studying in, and threw open the door to find the head of magic and science along with her entourage of a dozen palace guards, Spike, and the two adjudicators.

“Twilight! And Rarity! You made it!” the unicorn exclaimed, rising from her seat at the table with a smile. “Are you alright?”

“Cold,” Twilight replied with shuddering sigh, only now realizing how the blizzard had chilled her. The basement was a pleasant exchange, however, its warmth no doubt provided by Artemis’ magic.

“You look more than cold to me,” Spike offered from the back of the room.

“‘Freezing’ may be a more appropriate word for it,” Rarity agreed, her teeth clattering as she bowed her head politely at Artemis and entered the chamber fully.

“But we’re alright,” Twilight finished, then frowned with worry. “The library seems to be in a pretty bad shape. I think we’ll have to move someplace else.”

Artemis nodded, gazing apprehensively at the ceiling. “I get the feeling they know we’re down here. I just can’t figure out if they’re after you or me.”

“They might be targeting the council,” Twilight offered. “They tore down a tower in Cristallum while I was out there.”

Artemis sighed and shook her head, reseating herself and rubbing a temple with her hoof. “I suppose you were right. We can’t just wait this out, can we?” The unicorn hesitated a moment before looking Twilight in the eye. “You’ll have to stop them.”

“Hold on,” Rarity interjected, stepping between the two. “Council Member Artemis, you cannot send Twilight out to fight all that alone!”

“No need for titles, Rarity,” Artemis replied, giving her a smile despite the interjection. Overhead, another part of the library fell apart, and the howl of the blizzard’s winds grew more noticeable. “I think you underestimate Twilight.”

“I know she had her leg savaged by a… a vampire in Canterlot! I know she has limits!” Rarity looked to Spike for confirmation, and the dragon gave an awkward shrug.

“I don’t know…”

“Those limits go beyond what either of us can comprehend,” Artemis returned calmly. “And she has responsibilities too. Not to me‒”

“But everyone,” Twilight finished, drawing Rarity’s attention away from Artemis.

The fashionista opened her mouth to speak, but the beginnings of her next sentence was drowned out by a rumbling above. The ceiling shifted violently, giving Twilight just enough warning to establish a large force field about everyone present in the small archive room, followed seconds later by one of the guards’ force fields forming just before the ceiling came crashing down.

Twilight didn’t have to keep the debris at bay for long before a monumental gust of wind swept away the large chunks of rock as if they were made of paper, exposing the ponies fully to the brunt of the storm.

“Whoever it is they’re looking for,” Artemis shouted, her voice nearly drowned out by the frenzied blizzard directly above them, “they found her!”

Twilight teleported the group of ponies and Spike out of what remained of the basement and onto the street just outside, allowing them all a short glimpse of a massive herd of windigoes having joined together to create an enormous whirlwind centered directly atop the decimated library. A glimpse was all they got, however, before the whirlwind recentered itself right on top of them.

Twilight withdrew the energy of her force field, leaving only the one guard’s remaining as she focused on her offensive magic. A bright beam of magenta shot through the force field and up into the cone of windigoes. The spirits struck by the specialized spell howled in pain as their ethereal bodies reddened and fell apart, leading, Twilight was sure, to their permanent destruction. She moved the beam along the sides of the cone the windigoes had formed, striking and destroying most of them and forcing the rest to disperse.

“That’s... a pretty handy spell,” Artemis observed, watching in awe as the remaining windigoes retreated back up into the sky.

Twilight could only give an exhausted sigh in response, falling back on her haunches before the freezing ice she sat on forced her onto her hooves again. “We need to get to cover,” she muttered, shaking her head slowly.

“Are you alright?” Rarity asked of her, her worry showing yet again as she and Spike rushed to the other unicorn’s side.

“It’s not an easy spell...”

“Hostiles!” One of the guards shouted out in warning, pointing a hoof at the fallen skyscraper down the street. Standing atop it were the ice constructs Twilight had seen before entering the library, their numbers bolstered to at least fifty. Half of them were quickly taken down by the ten unicorns amongst the squad of guards, however, leaving Twilight with at least some repose to regain her strength. Another volley from the unicorns took out half of the remaining force of attackers, and a final spell from Artemis finished them all off.

The fragments of the last ice construct had barely touched the ground before they were swept toward the ponies by a powerful gust of wind. The temperatures dropped again as the wind kept growing stronger and stronger, and Twilight noted Artemis’ horn growing a little brighter as she tried to heat up the inside of the force field.

“Don’t think I can keep this one going much longer,” one of the guards muttered, and Twilight noticed the forcefield flickering faintly before replacing it with her own.

“Can we get off the street now?” Rarity commented, shuddering despite Artemis’ efforts as the force of the wind assaulting them kept increasing.

The white unicorn’s question went unanswered as the source of the beyond hurricane level winds finally revealed itself. A horde of windigoes, much larger than the one Twilight had just defeated, erupted from behind the fallen skyscraper, rushing toward the fifteen ponies and reaching them within just a second. They refrained from attacking the ponies outright, galloping in a tight circle around them instead.

“Twilight?” Artemis remarked nervously, inching closer to her just as Rarity and Spike had done a moment ago. All around them, the ice was creeping up the sides of Twilight’s force field, and the magical shots fired by the unicorn guards and Spike’s occasional gouts of fire seemed completely insignificant in the face of the hundreds of windigoes whirling about them.

“There’s too many!” Twilight told the violet unicorn, yet fired up her horn all the same, hoping that a minor blast of the spell would scare away the windigoes it didn’t kill. A wide spread of magenta energy burst from her horn and through the protective force field, striking at least a dozen of the spirits and killing them.

Despite her hopes, however, the windigoes all but ignored the negligible blow to their numbers, and the ice kept thickening around them while the winds were starting to make it hard for Twilight to maintain the shield.

“I can’t do much more without cancelling the force field,” Twilight explained to Artemis, her breathing quickly growing labored as her recent spells started catching up to her. “And even that won’t do much good.”

“Maybe we should retreat?” Spike offered, but both Twilight and Artemis shook their heads.

“They’re obviously not letting us go,” Artemis said, stepping toward the center of the ponies’ formation. “But maybe we can discourage them.” She closed her eyes before an indigo blaze took hold of her horn, and the same light soon spread to the surface of the icy bowl that threatened to encase the fifteen ponies. The horn pulsed, and indigo flames burst forth from thin air, blowing apart the ice and driving back the nearest windigoes as the force field became surrounded by fire. The unicorn guards, realizing Artemis’ intentions, soon joined their own magic to her efforts, widening the circle of flames and causing it to burn in a multitude of colors. A moment later, Rarity joined in as well.

But although the fires did serve to drive the windigoes back, they didn’t retreat, lingering instead at the edge of the flames. “Now what?” Rarity demanded, but once again, her question went unanswered as a huge chunk of ice came sailing out of the air from somewhere behind the fallen skyscraper, scoring a direct hit on the force field. The shield flickered, causing the temperature to take another drop, but with a grunt of effort, Twilight kept it active.

“Something big’s coming at us!” one of the pegasi warned the rest, somehow able to see past the obscuring flames and windigoes to whatever new arrival had just challenged the ponies. “And it’s got friends!”

Another chariot-sized chunk of ice hit them, causing the force field to almost give out. “Twilight!” Artemis plead of the unicorn, and Twilight was all too well aware of what she was asking for.

She shook her head. “I can’t!”

“You have to!”

“I don’t know how!”

An ice construct appeared through the haze of windigoes, leaping recklessly through the fire and striking the force field before being blasted to pieces by the guards.

“Find out!” Artemis demanded, shooting a bolt of lightning at another approaching ice construct. “Unless you have any more magic tricks up your sleeves!”

“I see it too!” the second pegasus declared, and this time, Twilight was able to make out the silhouette of something much larger than the ice constructs clambering across the skyscraper. It seemed to be made entirely of ice, but unlike its bipedal cousins, the larger construct sported eight asymmetrical arachnid legs, all ending in wickedly sharp points that dug into the ground. As the ponies watched, the larger construct lifted a huge pincer, and a third clump of ice formed directly within its grasp. With a mighty heave of its arm, the ice was thrown at the ponies, but this time, it was blown to fragments by Artemis midair.

“Twilight!” she shouted again, turning her gaze on the lavender unicorn. “I know it hurts, but is the alternative really any better?” A pair of the bipedal constructs attempted to make their way through the fire, and the blaze strengthened momentarily under Artemis’s direction, melting the two creatures instantly. “If you don’t do it, Manehattan’s gone! You die, I die, the council dies, Rarity dies!”

Twilight flinched at the words. “N-no!”

No. No!

“You will not hurt my frie‒”

“No!” she repeated, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head to drive away the thoughts.

Artemis, however, quickly caught on. “They’ll kill Rarity, Twilight!”

The angry thing inside of her was breaking loose of the bonds she had imposed upon it, and Twilight was powerless to stop it. Perhaps it was for the best, a small part of her thought, but everything else remembered the diamond dogs, Fluttershy…

“Just like he did!”

“Stop it!” Twilight half screamed, half snarled, and her horn lit up brightly. She pointed it only momentarily at Artemis before directing it at the cloud of windigoes and the eight-legged construct.

“Artemis, what are you doing!?” Rarity demanded, trying to put a comforting hoof on Twilight’s shoulder, only to have it shrugged off instantly.

“Are you going to let it happen!?” Artemis pressed, ignoring Rarity’s protests. “Are you going to let her die again!?”

Twilight took a step forward, gritting her teeth as she stepped down on her bad leg. Flaring her nostrils and taking a deep breath, however, she continued. The red haze she both feared and welcomed at this point had crept into her peripheral vision, serving somehow to highlight the spider-like ice construct, its right pincer pointed straight at her.

Twilight failed to realize what the position of the construct’s arm meant before her force field buckled under the impact of another lump of ice. The magenta shield finally shattered, and Artemis’s taunting words, everything around her, was suddenly drowned out by the roar of the blizzard. Everything, that was, except Rarity’s scream as she was swept off her hooves by the force of the blizzard.

Without directly thinking it, Twilight’s magic whipped through the crowd of windigoes and struck the giant ice construct, splitting it in half. The attack did nothing to slow the wind tearing past her, however, and only a quickly cast spell on her hooves kept her from being carried off. Without missing a beat, the magical whip that had halved the giant arachnid split in four. Two of the whips swept across the ground and took out the majority of lesser ice constructs and a few unlucky windigoes, and the other pair went skywards, flailing about wherever there were more spirits and cutting straight through them. The lower coils retracted when they had swept the ground clean of enemies, and Twilight focused instead on the air, supplementing her whips every now and then with a burst of chain lightning, ignoring her waning magical reserves completely.

She didn’t see the chunk of ice before it was too late, and could only brace herself as it struck the ground right in front of her before careening into her. The force of the blow was staggering, and through the stars in her vision, she only vaguely registered her hooves snapping free of the ground they’d been magically glued to. The free falling sensation of being carried away by the blizzard at breakneck speeds quickly brought her out of her stupor, however, and she caught a glimpse both of the eight-legged construct, which had somehow reformed, and of Artemis’ indigo force field further down the street, Rarity and Spike being among its occupants.

Her line of sight was quickly broken as Twilight was hurled off the street by the blizzard, carried further and further into the air at a speed that would have had Rainbow Dash hard pressed to keep up. A barrage of sharpened hailstones going the other way struck her head on, and Twilight became even more disoriented as she was forced to shield her eyes with her good hoof, her horn sputtering uselessly in an attempt to ward of the projectiles. The wind that had thrown the hail at her took hold of her as well, and her entire world lurched as she was suddenly carried in the opposite direction. She narrowly missed the top of a skyscraper before the violent roar of the blizzard lessened suddenly, turning her tumultuous ascent into an equally out-of-control descent.

It seemed familiar, Twilight noted, dwelling on the thought briefly despite the situation. The way the snowflakes and hailstones seemed to stop in midair all around her as she hurtled downwards at the same speed they did, the wind screaming at her ears, the ground lunging up towards her to crush her body.

Drawing upon the very last of her reserves, Twilight quickly wove a protective bubble about herself and managed to put together a complex gravity spell just before striking the frozen ground, the impact of her force field sending shards of ice flying everywhere and leaving a deep depression in the icy mantle covering the street. The gravity spell negated the shift in momentum that would have otherwise left her a stain on the inside of her force field, and Twilight cut off both spells as her reserves emptied, landing heavily on her hooves before collapsing in pain from stepping on her bad leg.

A series of clacks against the ice told her that something was approaching, but between clutching her bleeding limb and trying to shield her eyes against the blizzard, Twilight failed to realize what it was before a pincer of solid ice closed about her midsection. She was hoisted out of the crater, and through the freezing tears and red mist clouding her vision, she caught a glimpse of Artemis’ force field before she was brought face to face with the arachnid ice construct. The creature resembled a scorpion most of all, save for the lacking characteristic tail, but the murderous intent she could read in its cold, blue eyes told her it had plenty of other ways to destroy her.

The pincer about her ribs tightened, and Twilight gasped with pain, struggling feebly to free herself of the construct’s vicegrip. An indigo burst of lightning tore clean through the arm holding Twilight, but just as quickly as the ice shattered, the windigoes surrounding the arachnid reformed the limb, leaving the unicorn no better off. The giant construct opened its other pincer, and the windigoes obliged by conjuring up a massive chunk of ice which was promptly thrown in Artemis’ direction.

“Do it, Twi!” she heard the violet unicorn shout at her, struggling to be heard over both the blizzard and Twilight’s choking noises. “Do it or die!”

The grip about her tightened, and she felt her ribs bend almost to the point of snapping, squeezing the remaining air out of her lungs. Deciding that she had little choice but to do as Artemis wanted, Twilight shut her eyes tightly in concentration, searching herself for the monstrosity she knew lay within.

It was eager to show itself, she found. Much too eager for her liking. It burst forth from the darkest corner of her mind as soon as she called its name, unleashing the torrent of memories, both her own and those of strangers, that she had kept locked away. And while she struggled to resuppress them, the Hunger tossed her to the side callously, seizing control of her every faculty.

An earsplitting crack rang through the air as the strange, abominable magic began to leak out of her own being, and the pincer that was crushing Twilight stopped squeezing, loosening a little, even. Twilight opened her eyes, and through the ice that made up the scorpionesque construct, she saw the life energy within, saw the six windigoes that animated the large construct, all of them racing about within the ice, panicking at the mere taste of the unnatural magic in the air.

The magenta tendrils, deceptively airy and silent in appearance, sprouted from her horn and lunged outwards much quicker than they had before, quickly finding their targets within the ice construct and latching on to their life force. Many more tendrils sprang forth from her, seeking out and ensnaring the surrounding windigoes with frightening efficiency. The tendrils burrowed through what little body the windigoes had, and the pain began in earnest. The giant scorpion released Twilight of its hold and stumbled backwards, only for its legs to crumble to dust and collapse. Before long, the invisible fingers of her magical grip, infinitely sharp and much colder than the blizzard could ever be, wrapped themselves around more than a dozen cores of more than a dozen windigoes’ innermost beings.

A loud rushing noise, akin to that of a great beast sucking in a lungful of air, erupted from each of the tendrils, and they started pulling. Twilight, still hanging in the air where the icy construct had released her, drew in a sharp breath as both her and the windigoes’ worlds filled with pain, and she grit her teeth so hard she tasted blood. The first of the souls was swallowed by her magic, greatly replenishing the emptied reserves. A second, and her magic was back to its high, but manageable level. A third, and her horn was crackling with energy begging to be released.

She would need more to save Manehattan.

Manehattan needed more.

She needed more.

Her gaze, divided across a dozen different perspectives, swept across the area, and within moments, another life force caught her eye. It shone like a little star, its brightness leaving the windigoes’ nothing but shadows in comparison. It was a richer, fuller essence than any windigo could hope to possess, much like the vampire’s had been, and so she was drawn to it instantly. A new tendril emerged from her horn, gliding through the air swiftly towards its target, passing through the force field separating the two with ease…

Wait.

Focusing through her own eyes and looking past the brilliant shine of life, Twilight saw Artemis’s indigo shield.

Wait!

The Hunger failed to heed the alarm bells going off in Twilight’s mind, and the tendril fastened itself to its target, immediately bombarding her with her prey’s feelings of panic and fear.

Rarity.

Stop! she screamed at herself, rushing to the forefront of her mind to seize control, to end the spell. The Hunger proved adamant, however, and her efforts to cease the spell were met with as much success as they had been in Canterlot. As soon as those fingers closed about Rarity’s essence, she knew she would not be able to let go.

A fourth soul was broken down into energy for her to exploit, and her body quivered, shuddering both from pleasure and horror. The spell’s progress through the depths of Rarity’s being proved to be slower going than with the windigoes, extending the agony of both prey and predator, but hopefully providing Twilight with enough time to think of a solution.

Reluctantly, she shifted her focus away from her friend and toward the windigoes inside and around the scorpion construct, forgotten by the Hunger in the excitement of devouring Rarity. She tugged at the bonds connecting her to the spirits’ souls, and found that the spell did not resist her control.

As long as I help it, at least, Twilight observed grimly, tightening the excruciating grip on the windigoes. What kind of a spell is this? I’m the one casting it; why is it controlling me!?

The cores of the windigoes were finally released from their respective hosts, and both the spirits and the large ice construct melted away to nothing before the magenta tendrils retracted, nearly overloading her senses as the dozen souls all joined her at once. As she had hoped, the Hunger was far from as prepared for the sudden shock of shameful euphoria as she was, and she immediately seized the opportunity its momentary distraction provided her.

Shifting her focus back to Rarity, she found the invisible grasp only seconds from clamping down on her essence. She grasped the tendril with her mind, found its weakest point, and with a massive effort of will, just as the first finger drove itself into Rarity, she severed the connection.

Twilight’s whole world lurched at the interruption, and she was thrown backwards as the tendril snapped back at her like a rubber band, leaving her sprawled against the base of a streetlamp, rubbing her head sorely. Within her mind, the Hunger screamed with dismay at the meal it had been denied, but with the spell ended, its influence had waned. With a small grunt, Twilight forced it, and the new arrivals, into the back of her mind where they belonged.

As the pain brought on by the spell eventually faded, Twilight noticed a lingering burning sensation in her horn. Looking up, she found it wreathed in a bright magenta blaze, begging for release. She rolled back onto her hooves and stood, pointing the horn toward the center of the windigoes’ formation in the sky. Reshaping and scaling up her windigo destruction spell, Twilight unleashed the massive surplus of magic in the form of a compact, pulsating sphere of energy. It streaked across the sky with blinding speed, hammering into the very center of the gigantic herd of windigoes far above before exploding in a shower of magenta sparkles, raining death upon any windigo within Manehattan. A thousand cries of the spirits’ anguish or anger rang out across the entire city, and the negligible fraction of windigoes that had survived the initial blast dispersed almost immediately, some, but not all, managing to escape the capital of Equestria without vaporizing.

Manehattan had been freed of the windigoes’ siege.

“You did it!” Artemis cheered triumphantly before Twilight could even manage to fall back on her haunches, and she was nearly bowled over by the violet unicorn, giving her a tight hug before backing off. “I knew you could!”

“Well, I’m not doing it again,” Twilight spat, her disgust aimed at herself more than anyone else. Artemis’ face fell, but she couldn’t care less at the moment. Her gaze went past the head of science and settled instead on Rarity, still standing where she had stood when the spell had first seized her. The fashionista was shivering slightly, the only indication that she was still alive, and Twilight doubted that she was doing so from the numbing cold alone.

“Sh-she’s fine,” Artemis assured her, following her gaze.

“She’s anything but,” Twilight breathed, giving a sigh before teleporting to Rarity’s side.

The white unicorn jumped at flash of light and, as she seemed to recompose herself, gave Twilight a nervous smile. “W-well! You… you certainly t-took care of that, didn’t you, Twilight?” She looked briefly at the night sky, now free of invaders, and her smile seemed a bit more genuine for a moment. “Ah… well done!” A hoof went to her mane as she lowered her gaze again, fidgeting with the hairdo ruined by the blizzard. “I certainly didn’t know you had... that... in you…” she murmured, and Twilight winced internally.

“Rarity… are you alright?”

“Of course, darling!” the unicorn assured with a wave of the hoof, giving a barely convincing titter of amusement at the question. “I mean, of course, I shall have to draw myself a long, warm bath when I get home, but I’m just fine otherwise!”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“What exactly happened?” Spike asked worriedly, joining the two unicorns.

“Nothing!” Rarity told the dragon reassuringly. She smiled warmly at them both and put a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. A badly shaking hoof. “I’ve been living here for four months, Twilight. I can handle myself. You really should worry more about yourself.” Somehow, the concerned gaze the white unicorn gave her helped Twilight realize that she was bleeding from several tiny wounds all over her face and right foreleg where she had been struck by the hail.

“It’s nothing.”

Rarity shook her head and gave a sigh. “It’s not‒… Just promise me you’ll take better care of yourself.”

“You too,” Twilight returned with a smile, and the two gave each other a tight hug. It had been a long time since she’d hugged any of her friends, Twilight reflected. Neither did it last for very long before Rarity broke it, giving her another smile.

“I should get back to the shop,” she explained. “Need to do some damage control and make sure Fleur is alright. Get some rest, darling; you look exhausted.”

Twilight nodded her head, realizing the truth of the words quickly. “See you soon.”

“We haven’t been seeing nearly enough of each other lately,” Rarity agreed, turning halfway back toward her shop. “Come by the boutique anytime, darling… After Fleur and I get rid of all the ice, of course.”

Twilight gave a halfhearted smile as Rarity went on her way, the light blue of her magic sifting through her disheveled mane in an effort to restore its curls.

“Think I’ll go with her,” Spike told Twilight, giving her a pat on the shoulders and a smile. “Just in case. I’ll see you later.”

Twilight nodded her head understandingly, and almost as soon as the dragon had left, Artemis trotted up to her side, nodding her head at Rarity and Spike.

“We can give them a guard escort if you like,” she offered. “Even with the windigoes gone, with the town as dark as it is…”

Twilight nodded. “It’d be for the best.” She closed her eyes and gave a deep sigh as Artemis gave the guards their orders, sitting down and trying to ignore the freezing ice. She heard the guards leave, but Artemis, of course, stayed. She was silent for a long while, seemingly enjoying the sudden quiet of the city, before she spoke.

“So… Rarity got‒”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Right. Sorry.” Another silence formed between the two, and once again it was broken by Artemis, giving a disheartened sigh. “What a mess…” She stomped a hoof lightly against the thick coating of ice covering both the streets and the base of every building within sight. “It’ll cost us a fortune to fix all these damages. To say nothing of replacing all the solites we’ve lost.” She gave another sigh, and Twilight opened her eyes to see Artemis looking at her. “We should probably head home too,” she said. “I need to call together an emergency council session, and you could probably do with a nice, warm bed right about now.” She gave Twilight a crooked smile. “You definitely deserve a rest after today.”

Hurt.

Her father chortled at the suggestion. A single tear of mirth escaped the corner of his eyes before freezing. “Oh no! I don’t get hurt! Never! That’s why they lock me in stone! That’s the closest they can ever come to getting rid of moi!”

Hurt, she insisted, and she could feel her father rolling his eyes internally.

“A setback,” he admitted. “Ironic, really. The bonds are finally broken, and now ‒” he gave a yawn “‒ I just feel too tired to do anything about it.”

Hurt.

Her father blew a raspberry. “Oh just go, will you? Think of me when you’re making popsicles.”

Reluctantly, she drew away from her father, catching a breeze out of the desolate statuary. She threw one last gaze back at the draconequus statue, gazing worriedly at the large hole where his chest should be. Just before looking away, she swore she saw a faint glimmer of light within…

A heavy thump against the window of Twilight’s new quarters in Cristallum interrupted what had just become an interesting dream. She didn’t know for how long she had been sleeping, only that it hadn’t been long enough, and so it was with a dissatisfied groan that she opened her eyes. Lifting her head, she found her pillow had somehow been ripped while she had slept, but a loud clatter of glass just outside her bedroom told her she had more important matters to attend to. A pony was standing on her balcony, leaning against the ornate, wrought iron balustrade. The pony was mumbling something to herself, and a hint of movement around her back revealed she was a pegasus. With no lights of the city to illuminate her, however, Twilight was unable to identify the mare any further.

Raising an eyebrow at the strange visitor, Twilight carefully crawled out of bed, approaching the doors to the balcony as silently as she could. Slowly, hoping it would go unnoticed by the pegasus, she lit her horn, increasing the light gradually to fully reveal her visitor. The scarlet mane, the steel galea for a cutie mark and the pink coat marred by dozens of scars were all dead giveaways, and Twilight’s raised eyebrow was joined by the other as her eyes widened in surprise.

The doors to the balcony opened in response to her magic, and Twilight went outside to greet the pegasus, wrapping herself in a powerful heating spell. “Scarlet?”

The pegasus blinked slowly, and without turning her head, her eyes found Twilight’s. She gave a deep sigh and hung her head. “Figures I landed on your balcony…”

Twilight frowned with confusion. “Excuse me?”

Scarlet Bolt waved a hoof dismissively, and Twilight fell silent. The pegasus didn’t immediately explain herself, however, so the two ponies ended up standing beside each other in silence for a long moment.

“Y’know,” Scarlet Bolt finally offered, sweeping a hoof out to gesture at Manehattan. She wobbled slightly as she did so, and only now did Twilight notice an empty bottle in the pegasus’ hoof. “Y’think you do Equestria a favor… You think that maybe… maybe you’re doing pretty well... all things considered... that the council actually works…” Scarlet Bolt gave a tired sigh and slumped down a little further on the balustrade.

“And then a million windigoes come knocking at your door. And you start to realize how stupid you were. Equestria ain’t getting better. It’ll take a team effort to get it out of the mud, and I feel like I’m the only one trying. Bloody thugs all over Equestria, bloody muggers and thieves, bloody Flim and Flam extorting every last bit outta us, bloody council!” she shouted toward the end, her voice having grown more and more agitated as she ranted. She threw the empty bottle as far as she could, and somewhere in the darkness, they both heard a pane of glass shattering.

“Bloody glass house,” she spat bitterly. “What’s it say about us that the seat of Equestria’s power is made of glass, huh?”

Twilight wasn’t sure what to say. Having the head of Equestria’s military being on the verge of passing out drunk on her balcony was still too strange for her to fully process. She didn’t know what the seasoned fighter, now robbed of much of her judgment, would be capable of either, should she accidentally upset her.

She didn’t answer the pegasus, and looked out instead at what little of Cristallum was visible in the moonlight, leaning against the balustrade as Scarlet Bolt did. The half of the palace that Artemis’ tower was built upon had by some miracle sustained a remarkably small amount of damage to its structure. The other half, however, was covered in ice, and the tower that had collapsed had caused massive damage to everything below it, taking out several floors and leaving countless rooms exposed to the elements. It wasn’t a reassuring sight, and Twilight knew it was the same all over Manehattan.

“Rain Dancer’s dead,” Scarlet Bolt muttered after a while.

Twilight turned her head in surprise. “What?”

The pegasus nodded her head. “What’s worse, the council decided not to replace her!”

This too, caught Twilight by surprise. “How come?”

“Whaddya think?” the pegasus grumbled. “Bramley’s in charge of the weather now. More power. More pay. And from now on, when push comes to shove, we pegasi’ve only got two votes against the others.”

“Against?” Twilight echoed worriedly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Scarlet Bolt eyed the unicorn. “Y’think we’re all friends on the council? You’ve seen our meetings. Power corrupts,” she muttered darkly. “The ponies on the council work for their own gain and glory, not Equestria.”

“What about you?”

Scarlet Bolt’s expression soured, and her gaze fell. “I thought I was serving Equestria… I thought I could save Equestria… back when we’d just lost her. Later on, I thought I could at least keep the rest of the council from tearing the country apart...” She hesitated, opened her mouth, then closed it again. Her lips trembled in indecision for a long while before she continued. “But maybe I don’t know how to do any of that,” she admitted. “Maybe I shouldn’t have drafted you. I had my reasons, but they may not have been… entirely…” Scarlet Bolt shook her head and groaned. “I’m sobering up. I need another drink.”

The pink pegasus got her forehooves off the balustrade and turned away from Twilight. Her wings unfurled, but she remained standing where she was for a few seconds longer. “I’m not asking you to trust me, Twilight,” she said. “Just to not trust anyone on the council. That’s what I came to say. I guess.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t have involved me in the first place, then,” Twilight offered.

Scarlet Bolt’s gaze hardened, and she gave a sigh of resignation. “Goodnight, Twilight.” Her wings flared. “Oh, and thanks for saving Manehattan. Perhaps you can do it a little faster next time.” Twilight opened her mouth to retort, but when the pegasus launched herself off the balcony, she shut it again. Instead, she watched the pegasus gliding swiftly, but somewhat unsteadily, into the night, pondering her disconcerting words.

“Twilight?”

The unicorn’s gaze went from the receding figure of Scarlet Bolt and toward the back of her bedroom, where Artemis had just emerged.

“I thought I heard someone talking,” Artemis observed as Twilight exited the balcony, taking a curious look around the dark room. “What happened to your pillow?”

“Uh, nothing. Scarlet Bolt came by.”

Artemis gave a short half nod in understanding, though her gaze, directed at the pillow, grew only more confused. “Huh. Uh, okay… I, uh, suppose she told you about Rain Dancer?”

“What exactly happened to her?”

“She was out for a, uh… flight? Whatever pegasi call their strolls. That’s when the windigoes hit. We’re assuming she tried to get back to her tower‒”

“The one that was destroyed.”

Artemis nodded again. “Looks like the windigoes singled her and her guard escort out. They were all frozen solid.”

Twilight sighed and looked back at where the pegasus’ tower had been. “Why did she brave this kind of weather? She could have sought shelter before reaching Cristallum.”

Artemis shrugged, looking the same way as Twilight. “She’s not a novice flier. She’s seen a lot of storms working in the weather business. Might’ve overestimated herself.”

“Scarlet said that… that you weren’t replacing her.”

Artemis scratched the back of her head and gave an uneasy grimace. “No doubt Scarlet vented some of her concerns with you.”

“I thought your jobs on the council were hard,” Twilight pressed. “Don’t you need all the help you can get?”

“We do. And we still get it,” Artemis defended herself. “We haven’t removed the weather division, Twilight. We are replacing Rain Dancer; the new one just won’t get a position on the council.”

“Why not?”

“Weather management isn’t…” Artemis struggled to find the right words. “It’s not an important job. I mean, it is, but it doesn’t warrant a say in council matters. Bramley speaks for the divisions of agriculture and weather management now, and they happen to have the same voice. It’s redundant to have both on the council, really. It’s easier this way. The more ponies you are about a decision, the harder it is to make.”

“It seems…” Twilight wasn’t sure what to say. “Wrong.”

“It wasn’t an easy decision. Not a nice one, either,” Artemis admitted freely. “But things’ll work out better this way. Trust me.”

Twilight nodded her head dimly, her gaze dropping so her eyes wouldn’t meet Artemis. “So what now?” she asked. “About finding out who that alicorn is?”

Artemis frowned and gave an exasperated sigh. “Let’s just… give up on that for now. The contents of that library are unsalvageable. Not that they were of any use. I’ll make sure Civil Tenet has her people looking into the matter in other libraries around Equestria, but I’m starting to think it’s a waste of time, to be honest.”

Twilight nodded her agreement. “So it’s off to Cloudsdale, then?”

Artemis pursed her lips and hesitated for a while, her gaze dropping to the floor. “Well, technically, I made my deal with Rain Dancer, not her department. So I think we’d be best off with a change of plans. As soon as you’re ready, you can leave for Appleloosa.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow in confusion. “You’re sending me away?”

“I wish you could stay here and do your experiments outside the city. It’d be a lot easier, and I’d like to be around for it, but as much as I want you here, Equestria needs you elsewhere.”

“Appleloosa?”

“I figured the surrounding desert would give you all the space you need. It serves a political purpose as well. It’d help things if Equestria saw a bit more of you. Especially the farming areas of the country. If they see you working on a sun, we might hold onto their loyalty a little longer.”

“Good point.” Twilight nodded her head. “Alright. I’ll go.”

“When do you think you’ll be ready? I mean ‒” she looked out at the desolation the windigoes had left “‒ Manehattan might need a little sunshine too.”

Twilight gave the frozen city outside a frown. “I don’t know. I need to forget what happened here. Maybe I should leave as soon as possible.”

“Is this about draining Rarity?”

Twilight shuddered involuntarily, and gave Artemis a sharp look.

The unicorn nodded her head quickly in understanding and took a step backwards. “If you need somepony to talk to about it, you know where to find me.” Artemis looped a hoof around Twilight tentatively, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “I’m here for you, alright?”

Twilight didn’t answer, and instead of meeting the other unicorn’s gaze, she turned her gaze toward the city once more. Artemis retracted her hoof from Twilight, who stood there silently until she heard Artemis take the elevator down. Exhaling deeply, she fell back on to her haunches before sinking down to lie on her belly as she buried her face in her hooves, shuddering as her body was wracked with choked sobs.