//------------------------------//
// Chapter Four: The Daughter of Darkness 
// Story: Monarch 
// by Mickey Dubs 
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Chapter Four:


The Daughter of Darkness


—

"I've sent out the order to liquidate the northern garrisons. Accounting for time spent in transit and redistribution, every available soldier will be in Canterlot within the week. By that time, the castle will be impenetrable. Celestia will have every able-bodied soldier at my disposal watching her around the clock.”
“What about the injured ones?”
“Cadance and Zecora are overseeing their care, but progress is slow. Their Medic Corps can patch up wounds and broken ribs well enough, but for those the changelings captured? Those their brothers thought dead? They feel victimized, singled out... scared. Angry. Cadance is doing everything in her power to spread love and camaraderie, but she can't keep answering their questions with silence. They demand justice, but more than that they demand an explanation. As of now, I don’t know what to tell them.”
As she thought it over, neither did Twilight. The attack on Celestia, the battle in the ballroom, Luna’s abduction... There was no concrete explanation for the savagery that had plunged its blade deep into the heart of Equestria and left her stunned. What there was was one immutable fact: the battle was far from over. Be it carried on the buzzing wings of changelings or the unified march of zebra warriors, something was coming to finish what it had started. Looking around the Hall of Heroes and the makeshift hospital erected along the walls, Twilight couldn’t help but feel Canterlot’s collective misery. Should something come, it would meet nothing but an empty castle defended by the dying. An easy target ripe for the slaughter. 
“Brother, I know you’re concerned for my safety, but I feel as though your accompaniment could be put to better use here than with me.”
Shining Armor sighed heavily. “We’ve talked about this, Twilight. You can’t run off without someone protecting you, no matter how much you don’t want it. No matter how guilty you feel. You’re traveling under guard whether you like it or not.” He pulled her closer with a nuzzle on the head. “You’re going to let me protect you somehow.”
Twilight sank against him, utterly spent. Barely midday, and already she felt she’d been awake for a week. The promise of the sleepless journey in store only made her feel worse. But at least under guard there was a chance to recuperate, and even one more set of untrained eyes might find something that would lead to Luna and a cure. Twilight nodded begrudgingly. “I know you will.”
“Leave it to us,” he said, pulling her upright. He nodded to the far door. “You worry about yourself and Luna, and I’ll worry about Celestia.”
Twilight fell into step beside him. “I’m assuming you took the liberty of organizing my guardians without telling me, right?”
"Of course I did,” he said, smirking. “They're prepared and equipped in the foyer as we speak. They await your inspection."
Twilight nodded. “And what about Ironhoof? Is he a problem you can handle?"
"Our best diplomats are preparing to set out for the Zebra capital. If they can keep him docile and his concerns addressed, they should buy you as much time as you need."
They walked together in silence past the stained-glass windows, rays of chromatic light breaking on their shoulders. It was an odd feeling; those windows depicting the great exploits of Canterlot's heroes had never seemed so fleeting as they did now. She'd never taken the time to really appreciate them. Now, as their collective silence grew unbearable, all Twilight wanted was a few seconds alone to commit them to memory. Her stomach twisted at the thought. If she failed, was that just what they would become?
"I want reports as they come in: updates on Celestia's condition, any correspondence with Ironhoof, or anything else you would alert Celestia or Luna about."
He gawked at her curiously. "How?"
"Spike," she said, though more to the carpet than to him. "Please don't tell him where I've gone. I love him more than anything, but he... he’s too young to understand. He’ll beg you, argue with you, maybe even fight you to get to me. But please, don't tell him. If I lose him to despair too..." She brushed her cheek dry and chuckled. "Don't let him give you any sass, either. He can get a little cheeky without me around."
“It’ll be chaos around here when you leave, Twilight. Are you sure Canterlot is the best place to keep him? I doubt Cadance and I will have time to babysit.”
“He can handle himself.” Ponyville came into view through the far window, but within a few steps it was gone. She shook off the sour feeling. There would be time later to long for home. “Give him a task, and he’ll see it done. He’s the best assistant a girl can ask for.”
Her words died away, leaving Canterlot utterly silent. All the life had been stolen away from the once-vivacious castle. Hospitality had been shuffled off in favor of stoic silence, a warm hearth for a sharpened spear. This was a castle no longer, but a fortress. Two thousand years’ peace gone in a heartbeat. Now, only the looming prospect of war rang through the air with every dour hoofstep. Celestia’s promise had been broken. Only time would tell if it would be renewed. They rounded the corner and made their way down the stairs in the entryway, ignorant of the confetti and flower petals ground deep into the carpet. A trio of armor-clad soldiers snapped to attention as she came into view. A wagon laden to its brim sat behind them, its harness jangling impatiently. Twilight gave the three of them a nod, then pondered the carpet again. Shining Armor returned their salute, then gave her a little nudge. Twilight raised her head and tried her hardest to smile. Don’t let them see you cry...
Shining Armor nodded at one tall, grey unicorn stallion at the fore. “Are these your selections, colonel?”
“They are.” He swept off his helmet and stepped forward, and as he snapped to attention Twilight swore the castle trembled. Gilded blue plating clanked on the tile as he took an elegant bow, the rattling of chain links adding a softness to his otherwise horrifically imposing airs. An icy mass of blue-grey hair poured over his shoulders like a glacier melting in the sun. Her eyes fell on the halberd slung over his back, and soon she recognized him as the blood-stained warrior who'd saved her from before. There was no denying that he, decades her senior, possessed an unshakable sense of authority. It’s a good thing he’s on our side, she thought. Had he been an enemy, Canterlot would’ve been sure to fall.
“Milady, I am humbled to make your acquaintance,” the stallion said, still bowing. “I am a colonel in command under your brother. My name is—”
“Vanguard.” Twilight made her way down the stairs and stood before him. Even with his back bowed he was monstrously tall, a veritable wall of muscle encased in steel. Twilight bid him rise with a bow of her own. “I remember you. You saved me during the battle, didn’t you?”
“To say I saved you would be a gross overstatement. If it pleases you I will claim as such, but such is my duty. My life is yours, milady, and your enemies mine. I am honored to be in your service in these grave times.”
“Well spoken." He backed away and returned to the company of his soldiers: the pegasus archer with his harness of bronze, and the tempestuous red-crested stallion she'd battled alongside. They shared a brief flicker of acknowledgment and little smiles, then resumed their stances under Vanguard's glare. Twilight looked both of them over, then turned to Vanguard. “Has Shining Armor informed you of my mission?”
“Yes, milady. We are to serve as your escort, protecting you from harm and aiding you in whatever capacity we can.” He shot a look at the closest soldier, who snapped quickly back to attention. He shook his head disdainfully. “I only regret that our numbers are few.”
“Any more, and we’d lose precious time.” Twilight's eyes softened. “I'm sure you’ve been informed of Princess Celestia’s condition.”
“We have." 
She almost missed the little pained looks crossing their faces. They’ve been well-trained, Twilight thought, watching them. It would do them well to keep their emotions in check. But most of all me. Misery's a weight we can't afford to carry. “Then you understand there's little time to waste.” They nodded in unison. “Very well. I’ll require one of you to travel to the town of Ponyville and gather some things for me. Which of you can do this fastest?”
Vanguard looked to the soldier on his left. “Private?”
“It would be my pleasure, sir.” The archer stepped lightly forward and gave him an elegant bow, but as he rose to meet Vanguard’s vicious glare he wheeled to Twilight and hid his flushed cheeks with another bow. “I mean, yes ma’am! Of course, ma’am! What would you like me to do?”
“There’s a library near the center of town. You’ll find a dragon inside.” His eyes flared with panic, but Twilight shook it away with a wave of her hoof. “Don’t worry, he’s completely harmless! His name is Spike, and he’s my assistant. I need you to bring him here to Canterlot, then rendezvous with us at the ruins of the old zebra embassy. I trust you know where that is?”
He nodded. A little flash, and a parchment appeared at her side. “I’ve also made a list of books I need collected. We’ll need each and every one of these, so make sure you double- and triple-check everything.” The parchment unfurled and rolled to his hooves. He stared at its length, flabbergasted. Twilight blushed and gave him a little shrug. “I hope it won’t be too heavy.”
“Not at all, ma’am." He rolled the parchment up with a hoof, tucked it beneath his armor, and unfurled his wings. “Anything else?”
“Please be discreet. We here in the castle are the only ones who’ve been informed of the state of our princesses. We can’t allow ponies to panic. Keep calm, and make sure you don’t give anyone reason not to do likewise.”
With a curt nod he rocketed into the air, gathering momentum with a few loops before slipping out an open rafter window and out of sight. Twilight watched him depart with an eye on Vanguard. “Can he be trusted with his task?” Vanguard grunted, but said nothing. Her skin prickled. Am I being lied to already? She rallied herself with a little stamp of her hoof, then turned to her brother. “Are you sure you and Cadance will be alright without these three?"
"We'll manage. Much will be lacking without my second-in-command, but you’ll need him more than I will." He and Vanguard shared a brief bow of the head. Only Shining Armor seemed invested in it. "Vanguard's duties will fall to me, and Cadance will help with the slack. When Celestia recovers, she'll be able to chip in and help us fix what that mare did to us."
The ground beneath Twilight’s hooves seemed to shiver at the recollection. That such a foul soul should be given quarter beneath them... Whatever her fate, she wouldn't be missed, not for everything she'd done. But what of those things she knew? The promise of some answers slowly pushed everything else aside. If she’s going to wait in the dungeon, why not put her to some use? 
"What will you do with her?"
"That devil will get whatever she deserves. Celestia and Luna were always responsible for exacting justices against enemies of the crown. But with them gone..." He shook his head slowly, a dismal weight on his brow. “I don't want to become an executioner, Twilight, but I don’t see any other way. She’s too dangerous to let live.”
She could sense his honest reluctance hidden somewhere beneath his anger. A tiny portion of her agreed with him. Curiosity dominated the rest. "I’ll work something out," she said plainly. "Lead the way. I'd like to talk with her."
Vanguard and his subordinate jumped forward in surprise, but Shining Armor was two steps ahead. "I thought as much," he grumbled, pacifying the two soldiers with a nod. They fell into step as he took his station at Twilight’s side. "Don't think for a second you can fix her like you did Discord. He may be a demigod, but this mare... She’s not of this world. She’s something else entirely."
"I've toyed with monsters before. I can hold my own. Just give me a few minutes to glean as much as I can, and then you can do with her as you will." Shining Armor didn't look confident. Twilight shot him a strong little grin, but as the silence grew something lingered she couldn’t quite place. “What is you’re not telling me?”
Rounding the corner, he trod quietly to a drab, wooden door. He applied his magic and swung it open, revealing stairs into the bowels of the castle. They shared a sideways glance. “You’ll see.”


For all its countless years of sun-lit grandeur, never once had the sun's warmth graced these walls. The slippery staircase down which they tread resembled the throat of a granite leviathan, breathing cool and deep, coating the walls with dew. Flames flickered in the cornices overhead and granted some reprieve from the unnatural chill. Little crystals glimmered in the cracks of the walls, fearlessly casting their soft light into the crushing blackness. Shining Armor paced calmly at the fore, a brilliant star shedding its light before him. It bobbed and danced playfully overhead, but as he turned another corner it fizzled and died away. The walls expanded, the air grew colder, and the silence became more pronounced. It rang, as though hollow. Soon, the walls disappeared entirely. They had passed through the throat of the mountain as Shining Armor had claimed they would, and as Twilight's eyes grew accustomed to the dark a horrific fascination gripped her. He had warned her of the dungeon’s maw, had made light of what to expect.
He had never mentioned this.
Deep in the bowels of the mountain, untouched by sun or season, the belly of Canterlot grew out into a vast cavern stretching far further than she dared imagine. Here there were stalactites as tall as buildings, salivating for millennia, preparing for the cavern’s morsels. She could make out the tip of the mountain up above, but below it a hole to the center of the world loomed out in the mountain’s heart, leading seemingly into Tartarus itself. Shining Armor drifted a lantern to his side, and as he made his way to the closest stairway the realization of what they were about to do filled her with dread. Twilight began her descent, shuddering at the circumstances. Their aggressor had taken a bite out of Equestria, and the mountain had vengefully swallowed her whole. There couldn’t be a more fitting cell.
At the base of the seventh staircase they stopped to catch their breath. From this level, there was still no evidence the gaping pit had any bottom. Shining Armor gave them a few moments, then pushed onwards for the far end of the ring. They kept up the pace until a grand, shadowy form could be seen standing besides a corridor’s entryway. Shining Armor took a quick trot forward to meet it, and as his lantern drew close it illuminated the cloven-hooved form of a minotaur, his skin and eyes a pure ghostly white. The battle axe in his hand dwarfed even Vanguard, its chipped edges glimmering in the crystals’ glow. As she passed, Twilight gave him a respectful little nod. To her surprise he bowed his head in response, watching her blindly as she tread further into the dark. Twilight shuddered. He won't be the only mystery I'll have to ask Celestia about
Two guards emerged from the shadows as they reached the end of the corridor. Under the dancing flames in the torches above, it was difficult to ascertain which of the two was trembling more. They relaxed as Shining Armor took his place beside them, but not without a sense of unease. Something, somewhere behind the rippling wall of magic before her, was making them uneasy. Twilight seated herself down before the shadows of a lonely cell, listening for a sign. Water dripped from the ceiling in a steady beat, ticking time away. There wasn’t a moment to waste.
“I know you’re in there,” Twilight said calmly. “Please, come out so I can speak with you.” She strained her ears, but no reply came. “I only mean to talk with you,” Twilight said, this time a little stronger. “If you'd just let me have a word with you, you might be able to commute your sentence.” She let her words linger and barely made out the sound of shifting hooves, but still no mare. She turned to Shining Armor who, with a nod, slammed his hoof into the ground, its impact threatening to bring the mountain down upon them. 
“By order of Princess Twilight Sparkle, I command you make yourself known! Come into the light and obey! Your princess demands it.”
His order rang through the cavern and petered away, but still no movement. The torches danced on the walls, and as Twilight listened a chill crept through her that even they couldn't dispel. Something was stirring in the dark. The red-crested pegasus at her side could feel it too; he bristled and backed away, joining the other two guards as they braced against the wall. Twilight leaned forward, straining her eyes and ears for anything. Surely something would come.
The darkness obliged.
A single hoof broke through the shadows, but as she stared at it she could feel every part of her gripping her tight, every muscle holding its brothers to keep them from running away in terror. Nothing in all her years had ever looked so familiar, and yet so horrifying, and as her prisoner came into the light Twilight found reason to fear even more. This was no standard changeling drone, nor some twisted pony tainted by dark magic. She was none of those things. Both of those things. 
As her prisoner smiled, Twilight saw her for what she truly was: a corpse.
From the tip of her decaying horn to the ends of hooves seemingly gnawed free of flesh, those patches of midnight-purple skin that hadn’t appeared to have melted off were twinged in the sickly green aura of necrosis, a contagion that appeared even now to be eating her raw. In some places, it had succeeded in consuming her straight to the bone. In others, merely her muscles were exposed. A patchy, haphazard tangle of turquoise mane obscured only slightly the scoured surface of her chest, the beating of her twisted heart thumping horribly against a swath of skin as thin as paper. One of the guards retched violently behind Twilight, and as the corpse-mare turned a rotting cheek to revel in his illness Twilight felt compelled to join him. Only a few cords of muscle and rotting flesh lay between her and what appeared to be the mare's teeth, each of them filed to points. She turned and faced Twilight fully, her teeth grating together violently. “You beckoned?”
No matter how she tried, there would be no returning her eye contact. Twilight focused instead on the tattered remnants of her prisoner's nose, trying her hardest not to scream. “I never beckoned. I only asked to speak with you, and I wish to do so politely. My name is Princess Twilight Spa—"
"Oh, I'm well aware of who you are."
How it was that her voice was so crisp despite her decomposition troubled Twilight in more profane ways than one. "Then you're probably aware of just what kind of trouble you're in.”
“Funny. I was going to say the very same thing.”
“Silence!” Vanguard's jolted forward, his halberd unsheathed, but he met Twilight’s hoof instead. She shook her head, and without another word he retreated. The glimmer of magic surrounding his halberd fizzled away. Twilight watched him until he had calmed himself fully, then turned to her prisoner. “Being my guest, I would ask for your forgiveness for his outburst... but I’ve seen how you treat your hosts.”
“I’d have thought a bottle to the head would've made remembering your obligations as a hostess a bit difficult.”
For some profane reason, Twilight couldn’t help but smile. “I had a feeling that was you. Only a coward locks their enemies in a closet rather than deal with them face-to-face.”
“What say you, then, of those that can’t even move to save their fellow princesses? Are those guards of yours aware that you had a chance to save Celestia, and failed? Do they know you were too scared to even try?” A collective pall lowered over the room as the guards looked at Twilight, then down to their hooves. Twilight’s lips curled into a snarl. Her prisoner stretched her grin to match. “This isn’t a game you desire to play, Twilight, for I am a master of both lies and truths. It’s in my nature.”
“Prove it, then. Tell me the truth, and I might be inclined to be lenient with you. Do you deny your involvement in the attempted murder of Princess Celestia?”
“I do not,” the mare said happily.
“And do you deny your attempt to kidnap Princess Luna?”
What was left of the mare’s eyebrow cocked. “Very poor choice of words, princess, for I succeeded in that as well.” A burgeoning smile ripped her lip, sending a trickle of blood down her chin. “Tut tut, Twilight. It doesn’t do you well to lie.”
The mare lapped up the blood, sending shivers down Twilight’s spine. It took a little prod from her brother to bring herself around again. “As a princess, it falls to me to decide your fate. My Captain of the Guard believes you should be sentenced here for the rest of your natural life."
"He means to have me executed, to deliver his justice as I delivered the Usurper’s. Another lie, princess. Two for two.”
The mare’s thoughts were more collected than her body was. "Very well,” Twilight said quietly, nodding to Shining Armor. The wind left his sails, and with a returned nod he ceded his hold on Luna’s justice to her. Twilight returned to her prisoner, her back weighed just a little bit heavier. Even free from her bondage, Luna’s chains would never be shaken free. “I will decide your fate, as Luna or Celestia would. You are guilty, by your own admission, of crimes against Equestria, crimes which will earn you a life sentence in this cell. Be that as it may, I would like to believe you're capable of remorse for your actions. If you tell us what you've done with Princess Luna, I might find reason to allow you some liberties to make your stay in Canterlot less miserable. You won't be released, but you will, perhaps, be allowed some time outside. Would this be fair?"
The steady drip-drip-drip of the ceiling was all Twilight heard. The prisoner never made a sound, nor looked as though she cared. “I’m only going to give you this opportunity once,” Twilight said calmly, but it barely seemed to matter. Her lips were pursed, and no airy promises would open them again. Twilight's heart sunk as she dusted herself off and turned to the corridor beyond. They were flying blind. "I'm sorry it has to be this way. I only wanted to help you."
She turned to leave, but stopped dead at her prisoner’s icy giggle. “My, my," the mare crooned. "How well she taught you. You truly are her personal student, aren’t you? So courteous, just like she was.”
“Is. You failed to finish your work.”
“I beg to differ. My work has only just begun.”
“How do you hope to continue, trapped as you are?”
“Oh, I have others that do my work for me. So many millions of dutiful little slaves coursing through your dear princess’s bloodstream, bound for that twisted heart of hers.”
“You know nothing about Celestia, especially her heart.”
“Do I not?” The smell of decay leaked through the barrier as she slunk closer. Not even one of Shining Armor’s forcefields could hide such foulness away for long. “Celestia must've been so proud of you when you helped bring that feeble sister of hers under her hoof. She must love you for everything you’ve done on her behalf. For being an Element of Harmony. For being a princess. I was there, you know, feeding off your love for each other. I saw it your eyes. Heard it in your screams. Everything I needed to know was right there. Each of you has a portion of the other's heart, whether you know it or not." She licked her lips and tasted the tip of a fang. "So tell me: when I skewered Celestia like a pig, could you feel my blade tickle you too?"
“You bitch!”
The pegasus soldier at Twilight’s side lunged, roaring at the barrier, but with a flash of light and a crackle of electricity he jettisoned away and slammed against the far wall. Shining Armor helped the soldier to his hooves to the sound of cackling from inside the cell. Twilight stared her quarry down, teeth bared. “Don’t you ever say her name again! Do you hear me?”
The prisoner’s chuckle only grew deeper in her throat. “If only this Twilight could've been there to save her princesses! Where would we be now?” She turned to an invisible audience, her rotting hooves outspread. “Hark, all ye miserable little worms: your princess has revealed herself at last! See her resolve! Revel in her power! Bow before her! Bow! Bow! Bow!”
Joyous screams and merriment filled the dank, dripping halls of the corridor. Empty laughs for an empty room. Twilight watched her sadly. To think this husk of a creature was once like her, and now so lost. She turned to her brother, to Vanguard, and to the others holding back against the wall. No one appeared to regard her with even the slightest shred of sympathy. Turning to her prisoner, Twilight was again at a loss for how to feel. Her brother seemed to have already made up his mind. “This is pointless, Twilight,” he muttered, shooting the prisoner a glance. “She’s too far gone. You’re not going to get anything out of her.”
Twilight nodded, but still something pressed her to advance. There were still questions needing an answer. "What do you expect will happen now that you’ve been captured?”
“I assume Celestia will die, that Luna will break, and that my work shall not have been in vain. As it is, all this is guaranteed! Should I be worried about anything else?”
“Your infiltrators have been defeated, Celestia lives, and you’ve been captured. Every legion of the Royal Guard is coming to bolster our defenses, and I'm personally going out to bring Luna home. Whomever you're fighting for has abandoned you, and if you don't cooperate I can't guarantee your safety. Whatever plan you had has failed. If I were you, I'd be worried about ever leaving this cell."
“Then I’m glad you haven’t the honor of being me.”
“Being belligerent won’t get you anywhere.”
“But it will keep you here,” the mare said, examining her hoof. “Such a predicament you’re in: to beg me for a hint towards saving only one princess, or to venture blindly forth to the death of both. Either way, I find it amusing. How will you proceed, little Twilight? Carefully? Brashly? Why should I help you, when it brings me such joy to see you floundering?” She shot Twilight a sickening smirk. “You should’ve seen Celestia flopping about in her own blood. How oddly appropriate that you, like her, should be a fish out of water."
Twilight held back the advancing pegasus guard with an outstretched hoof. He gave a little growl, then limped back to his place. Twilight shot him a look, then did the same with her prisoner. “Antagonizing us will get you nowhere. If that’s your plan, then you’re wasting your time.”
“My time? By your own decree, I now possess all the time in the world. It is you who choose to linger here.”
“I’m not done with you yet.” Twilight could hear Shining Armor’s hoof tap impatiently. It was a shared anxiousness. “Before I leave, I'd like to know why you thought it necessary to try and kill Celestia.”
"You assume that slaying your princess was the plan."
"What was it then?"
The prisoner's lips pursed. "You will not make a friend of me, girl. You will not buy my voice, just as you will not buy back time."
"I'm not trying to buy myself anything."
"Oh? You don’t wish to purchase the whereabouts of your Luna for the promise of freedom? To buy, ever so ironically, all that time your once-immortal princess now lacks? To prove to these fools that, deep down, you’re truly worthy of that crown on your head? You're a better liar than I if you can blind yourself so thoroughly."
In every impatient tap of their hooves, Twilight could feel the prisoner’s words ring out their truths. With every second their confidence in her faded, Celestia's breaths slowed, and time rolled away drop by drop from the saturated walls. On all accounts, she was right. "Why are you doing this," Twilight whispered. "What drove you to do something so horrible to someone who didn't deserve it?"
For the first time, the prisoner looked at her with something other than disdain. A part of her seemed confused, as if Twilight was speaking a foreign language. "When you come to understand, you'll have wished you'd never asked."
"But she didn't do anything," the red-crested pegasus exclaimed. "Princess Celestia has only ever been kind to those who deserve it. You're just pissed because you lost!"
"And yet your princess bleeds, while I stand unscathed! Mark my words: Celestia will die, be it by my hoof or your precious little Twilight’s. In the face of this truth, I couldn't be more joyous."
The pegasus guard balked. "You're disgusting..."
"No more so than the charlatans to whom you’ve pledged your allegiance. I doubt Celestia would've ever stooped so low as condemning a pony to die, and yet your baby princess seems more than happy to cast everything aside for vengeance. She need only bring down this wall, do to me as I did to Celestia, and prove my point."
Twilight shook her head slowly. "I know better than to indulge you."
"And yet, here you are."
Twilight breathed a little sigh, looked at Shining Armor, and shared a grimace. He was right; there would be nothing gained by trying to change her. Twilight rose and stood her ground. "You have one last chance to provide me with information about Luna's whereabouts. Tell me what I need to know, or stay here alone in the dark. Your choice."
The prisoner spat a bloody gob at her, then grew silent. Twilight looked to Shining Armor. "I want guards here around the clock to make sure she doesn't escape. Do whatever you need to keep her quiet. I don't want her lies spreading." He nodded, resolute. Twilight turned to her prisoner. "I tried to help you, but you seem set on being belligerent. I hope you take some time to think about what you've done while I'm gone. When I return with Luna, I hope to see her justice done with my own eyes." Twilight gave her one last polite bow, then nodded to her escorts. "We've wasted enough time. Let's go."
She turned and walked quietly back down the corridor, focused on the glowing crystals bathing the walls in their ethereal glow. Even as they lay buried in the rock, surely they must've been glowing. Surely there was some promise in all this mess. Twilight looked back, saw the guards readying themselves, listened to the silence coming from the cell, and took a deep breath. Where can we possibly begin?
"And what of your friends?"
Everything grew quiet. The guards looked between themselves in confusion, but as they turned to Shining Armor they found reason to fear. He stared only at Twilight, she at him, their eyes holding the other's, seeing nothing. Blood crashed in her ears. Her hooves went numb. She couldn't even feel herself pace slowly to the foot of the mare's cell. The grinning corpse sat poised like a cat over her prey, sitting tall and unshakably proud. Twilight ground her hooves into the rock below, but not even the mountain could keep her from shaking. "What have you done with them?"
"I took my time with your friend Rarity, personally." The prisoner examined a rotting limb as if judging a hooficure, sending Twilight's heart plummeting. It couldn't have been a coincidence, the way she'd done it. She'd studied. She'd watched her prey, learned from her. Experimented with her. "She begged for me to play with her. Bargained, even. She wanted me to play with her so badly, she couldn't be dissuaded. And what better timing! Rainbow Dash had just given out." She executed another nonchalant glance at her hoof. "It's a shame Rainbow couldn't last longer. She'd had such beautiful plumage."
Twilight forced her tears down and gritted her teeth. “I will only ask you once. What have you done wi—”
“Fluttershy was utterly pitiful,” the corpse-mare continued idly. “It took a few of my strongest infiltrators to peel her from herself, but even then she wouldn’t stop shaking. How fragile she was, like a flower. A delicate little flower. Still, such a set of lungs on her! She cried and screamed, begging for an angel. She pleaded with me to stop. She was so polite, she was. She thanked me when I’d finished with her. Thanked me! Still, even then she—”
"Where have you taken them?!” 
Like thunder the walls rumbled with the sound of Twilight's voice, shaking the corridor and its occupants to their cores. The mountain halls echoed her screams, filling every nook and cranny in Canterlot with her howl of rage. With tear-sodden fury. With death. "What have you done with my friends? Answer me, now!"
Her howls petered away to the sound of chuckling. "They're someplace safe, I assure you. What they have to fear is far less than what you'll have to brave to find them. At least they'll have Luna to keep them company, at least for as long as it takes to break her too. In any case, the clock is tick-tick-ticking away. Again, the choice presents itself: wait for me to comply, or guarantee their death. Your choice."
“No! No more choices! You tell me where they are right now, or I’ll—”
“You’ll what? Cast me down to Tartarus? Inflict your wrath upon me? Have you seen my glory, girl? Does it look like pain fazes me? No, I fear no such things. I fear not you nor your lackeys. Not darkness or pain. Not the blade, the whip, or the chain. I fear nothing, not when I know my Lord of Shadows comes.”
A collective shiver ran them through as the mare’s words slithered quietly back into the shadows of her cell. The guards along the walls fell on their haunches. Vanguard’s brow furrowed. Twilight could only stare numbly into her prisoner’s eyes. There was only one so fitting of a title. Only one so justified in revenge. Only one. “We... We defeated him...”
From the darkness the corpse chuckled, slithering forward with a horrible bloody grin. “Did you honestly think, in all your self-aggrandizing pomp, for all your supposed marvels, that you could ever claim victory over the only true king of these lands? You: a placeholder for defeated liars? No, little girl. My lord is, and has always been, the one true monarch of this kingdom, and in service to a profligate you have defied him. The Shadow comes to reclaim his daughter with all the heat of hell-fire to bring him hence. He comes for me, and unto him I shall deliver his prize: a castle smote upon the rock, the flickering vestiges of your dying star, and you, bent in supplication to the god you've angered. He will make you watch as everyone you've ever met, everyone you've ever loved, and every last memory that brought you comfort turns to ash in your hooves. You will watch as Equestria burns in the fire of your fallen sun, and only when you have cried your last tear and whimpered your last miseries will he grant you the honor of begging him for death. But he will not listen. He will not acquiesce. He will leave you in the ashes of what was, alone with the memory of what could have been. And in that moment, you will be as you made him: broken, empty, and alone. And only in that moment will he ask that I—his hoof, his will, his beloved Penumbra—stoop so low as to grant you your final wish. Only then will I let you join your friends in the fires of his hell.”
She hissed her final word and joined the world's utter silence, wrapping herself in the shadows like a blanket against the cold. And it was, for as a deathly chill ran through the dungeon she was the sole pony not shaking. Twilight watched as her guards stared silently at the ground, their minds churning equally as fast as her own. The red-crested pegasus at her side mumbled quietly in the dark, staring at his hooves for assurance that this was just a dream. But neither this nor the path ahead were certain. Doubt clouded everything. Nothing was guaranteed: not Luna’s rescue nor Celestia’s well-being, not the prisoner’s lies or the horrible promise of her truths. Not even a place to start looking for a way forward. Twilight turned back to the cell and the glittering yellow eyes watching her therein. But we do have a place to start...
Turning to her brother, Twilight gave a little nod. "Fetch your finest muzzle. I'm taking her with me."
Never had two stallions wheeled faster than he and Vanguard. The confusion in their eyes morphed quickly into disbelief, and then to outrage. Her resolution argued otherwise, much to Shining Armor's confusion. "Are you nuts, Twilight?! You're letting her loose?"
"Quite the opposite. She’s to be our guide. If she ever wants to see the light of day again, she’ll have to earn it by helping us."
“Did you not listen to a word she said?”
“I heard everything I needed to hear. If her master wants to find her, then Canterlot is the last place she can be. Taking her with me is how I’m going to keep Celestia safe.”
“But what about you? If he knows the whereabouts of this... this monster... then you’re bringing yourself right to him!”
“But not to Celestia,” Twilight muttered. “He can’t find her like this, or else everything is lost. Far better he go on the hunt to find a worthless princess than a priceless one.”
Shining Armor fell silent, looking at Twilight like Cadance had: utterly heartbroken. "I hate to refuse you of anything," Vanguard offered, stepping between them, "but I cannot agree to this. Death is not so much a possibility as it is a guarantee if you bring her with us. She deserves no mercy. Let me rid you of her, milady. Let me eliminate the problem before she becomes one.”
"Then you may as well kill Celestia and my friends yourself. Throw Luna in the mix, while you’re at it! She's right, can't you see? Every second she sits here in silence is one more second we waste fumbling for an answer that she may have! We have to take her. It's dangerous, but it's our only hope."
"I must protest, milady. I cannot allow so flagrant a risk to your security impede my ability to protect you. It is my job to be—”
"Your job isn't to agree with me. Your job is to obey my orders, and if you can’t do something that simple then I'll find someone who can. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"
Luna's frigid mantle drew over her shoulders, cooling her rage into a icy-hot blade. Vanguard's grim frown hovered on his lips, but he never got any further. He gave a nigh-imperceptible snort. "Perfectly, Your Grace. Your will be done."
“Establish a camp at the old embassy. I want her under lock and key, incapable of doing anything: no magic, no shapeshifting, and definitely no talking. We’ll meet you there as soon as we can.” Twilight turned to his subordinate. “You and I are going to the Crystal Empire to scour their library. Surely we can find something that will get us on the right path. Gather your things, and meet me in the foyer in ten minutes. Any later, and I’m leaving without you.”
The pegasus gave a quick nod, then zoomed out of the corridor. Vanguard, still seething, gathered the remaining guards and trudged to the livery in the castle above. After a minute, all that remained was herself, Shining Armor, and the glittering eyes of her new guide peering out from the darkness of her cell. Her decomposing body was mercifully hidden from view, but there in her eyes Twilight could see hatred flaming to life. “He’s right, you know,” Shining Armor whispered. “She’s going to be the death of you.”
“I’m well aware,” Twilight snapped. “I don’t need to be reminded.”
He drew close and pulled her chin up, his eyes like their father's. "Twilight, please listen to me. No matter what happens, no matter what paths you take or decisions you make, please remember who you are. She's going to make you question that at every turn. Don't let her get the better of you."
"I think she already has."
"We both know you're a tougher nut to crack than that!" His smile parched her welling tears and made the cavern walls a little brighter. "You're ready for this," he whispered, pulling her into a hug. "I know you're ready. I just hope you know it too."
From within his arms the walls of her fragile world seemed to pull away. The dripping of the cavern remained closeby, its unerring beat upon the stone floor a constant reminder that beyond this abyssal vault lay a world impatiently ticking itself away. If only she could beg for more time. If only something would come to light the path.
Art thou prepared, Twilight?
From beyond her brother's shoulder, her prisoner's bloodshot yellow eyes glinted under the torchlights. Twilight blinked, and for a moment they turned ocean-blue. For a moment they were Luna's eyes, impatient and immovable, just as she'd been before the summit. Before the world fell apart. Beyond the shadows, Luna stood defiantly in her prisoner’s chains, bleeding and bruised, awaiting an answer long overdue. Then, with a blink, Luna was gone. Ocean-blue flashed yellow, then turned swiftly into the green-and-scarlet eyes of the once-dead nightmare. Twilight turned to the comfort of her brother's neckline and cried into his armor as quietly as she could. With Luna as his captive, there would be no reason to wait for permission. There would be no resistance or coordination, no Elements or bulwarks to stem the coming fire. There would be only King Sombra, the Lord of Shadows, his eyes turned on Twilight and Canterlot.
And with Celestia as the prize, there would be no mercy.



Never had the dawn come so quickly. Sand gritted beneath Twilight’s eyelids as the sun’s first rays broke through the overhanging windows and painted her workplace in russet light. She opened her eyes, rubbed the grit from them, and looked about to find the aisles empty. Still, her water glass had been refilled, and her books’ gathered dust swept away. She lifted up a nearby water goblet and drained it dry. Ice cold. The Crystal Library’s caretakers had but just made their rounds. Twilight sat up tall in her seat and grumbled. Back to work. 
She turned to rouse her compatriot only to find his place empty. A smaller pile of scrolls lingered in disarray at his makeshift bedside, the wax of forgotten candles coating the ground in a solid puddle near where his nose would have been. As it had been the night before, his workstation was a cluttered mess, more madness than method. That part had irked her most. Nothing so easily remedied as being disorganized should ever come between them and any clue of Luna's whereabouts. 
Twilight turned back to her desk, loathing herself for wanting to cry. The prior day had been spent with her heart in shards on the floor, and this night—this wasted, worthless night—had done nothing to seal the cracks. Now, on the dawn of a new day, the world outside was unlike the world she’d known before. Still, though, it was a new day. The sun still rose, the moon still set, and nothing had come on the coattails of disaster to steal hope away. Her prisoner’s promises had gone unfulfilled, and there was nothing to indicate that might change. Twilight returned to her work with the first inklings of a smile. The world wasn’t over just yet.
A sharp clatter of porcelain broke the silence. Twilight turned to find her bodyguard, his red-crested helm askew, pacing carefully forward, a silver tray balanced on his back. Despite the spring in his step, he looked far less rested than Twilight could've hoped. Luckily, if this new aroma was any testament, his offerings would be more than enough to reinvigorate the search. Sidling up to her desk, he tilted his wings and let slip his cargo, sighing with relief when his teapot kept upright. Folding his wings to his side, he gave her an elegant bow. “Tea, Your Highness?”
Twilight nodded her thanks and drew the teapot close, portioning out a healthy dose into the teacups provided. “There’s biscuits too,” he added, gesturing with his eyes. “I didn't know what kinds you liked, so grabbed the closest ones. I hope you like chocolate.”
“I do, very much. Thank you.”
Quietly she turned to the tray and its arrangement of pastries encircling ramekins filled with succulent jams and jellies. The aroma from the teapot at her side was too much to bear, but with some amount of restraint she pulled a few biscuits from their arrangement and carefully slathered them in jam. Her guard looked on patiently, rubbing his weary eyes with an armored forehoof. There would be no hiding his exhaustion, no matter how he tried to hide it. 
“How did you sleep, ma’am?”
Twilight pushed her biscuit around with a hoof and said nothing. She hadn’t even heard; the tea smelled too much like Luna’s, a brew forgotten in the storm of shouting and accusations, left to grow cold on the observatory floor. The biscuits reminded her too much of Applejack’s baking, brought back memories of stopping by on a bright summer day for no other purpose than a slice of apple pie and the opportunity to watch Apple Bloom frolick in the sun. Looking at them now, she couldn’t bring herself to eat. The tea was bitter, the biscuits stale... the company foreign. Twilight pushed her food aside and turned back to her scrolls. “We need to get back to work.”
“Aren't you going to eat?” His eyes were full of concern, his tone of voice far too familiar. Far more than Twilight liked. “You really should eat, ma’am. You’ll need your strength if you—”
“I said I’m not hungry.”
“Please eat, milady. It would be wise to keep yourself—”
“It would be wise not to argue with your princess,” Twilight snapped, rounding on him viciously. “Or have you forgotten that so soon?”
The light in his eyes doused in an instant. He retreated hastily, looking to his hooves in silence. He started to speak, but caught his words with a sigh. Twilight watched him, turned to her biscuit, and felt utterly hollow. He had made such an effort, and she’d been nothing but callous. She would never have spoken to Rarity that way, or Applejack, or any other friend. Looking at him as he hung his head, the only thing she could feel was shame. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”
“You had every right, ma’am,” he said quietly. “I am yours to command, not the reverse. I forgot my place, and I forgot yours. Please, forgive me.”
Neither rose their head for a while, but soon, when the veil lifted, Twilight gave him a soft little nudge. “Thank you for taking care of me. I’ve... I’ve been a bit distracted, haven’t I? A bit distant?”
He held his tongue, considered the options, then shrugged his shoulders plaintively. “It has been an interesting day, hasn’t it?”
“Yeah, it really has.”
He chuckled half-heartedly, then raised his eyes. Looking at one another, it was plain to see there was no ill will. He nodded towards her biscuits, and just the reminder made her stomach gurgle uproariously. He looked at her with an embarrassed little smile, then pushed a few more biscuits in her direction. She took them with a nod. “Thank you for breakfast. I needed it more than you know.” 
“You’re more than welcome, milady.”
Her stomach rumbled again, and soon it was obvious she wouldn’t be able to contain her hunger any longer. With a little smile Twilight temporarily relinquished her manners, wolfing down her breakfast with wonderful abandon. With every bite of her biscuits and their succulent jams, she could feel herself letting go of all those hatreds and insecurities that had plagued her from the night before. Those spaces in the pit of her stomach filled with long-forgotten food, their horrors drenched in sugar and sweetness until they plagued her no longer. It was almost sacrilegious, this feeling, especially in light of their plight. But despite her reservations, Twilight was overjoyed. Her bodyguard, however, looked absolutely dismal. She swallowed a massive bite of biscuit, looking at him sadly. “Aren't you going to eat?”
For a second, he seemed not to understand. “I... I can’t, ma’am.”
“Why not?”
“It would be improper of me to eat anything until your appetite has been satisfied. I’ll wait until you’ve finished.”
Twilight turned to the plate to find that little remained. Immediately she felt her insides curdle. Was this how she’d repay his generosity? “That’s ridiculous! Who came up with that rule?”
He never found the time to explain. Something in his silence screamed Vanguard, the stoic colonel from the previous day. It hadn’t been the first time they had butted heads. Twilight pushed the tray closer to him. “I want to make sure you’ve eaten your fill. Celestia knows I can’t finish all this. Please, eat.” She dropped her voice, her tone playfully severe. “Don’t make me order you!”
He looked up, confused, then shot fleeting glances down the aisles. “Are... are you sure, Your Highness?”
“Of course! Just don’t get the table dirty.”
Nervously he looked over his shoulder again. Then, with an eye on her, he stole a biscuit from the tray. A few more awkward seconds, then another biscuit. Twilight pushed the tray a little closer, and with a sigh of relief he swept up a healthy fraction and gobbled it down hungrily. Twilight poured him a cup of tea, a smile plastered wide on her face. What did a guard as imposing as he have to fear from a little mare like herself? He couldn’t have been much older than her, if he was even that. Still, he treated her with such reverence. Did the crown really account for all the difference?
“If you wouldn’t mind, I’d prefer not to be called ‘Your Highness’,” Twilight said quietly, helping herself another biscuit. “I’m not exactly used to it yet. Please, just call me Twilight.”
Something in the air between them grew horribly cold. His ears perked up, his eyes flying between the aisles before dropping low to his hooves. “Ma’am, I’m sorry to refuse you, but I... I just...” He sighed. “Colonel Vanguard has made it clear that we are to address you with the utmost formality. To do anything less would be an insult to you and the crown. I am to address you as I would Princess Celestia or Princess Luna: with absolute reverence.”
Twilight cocked an eyebrow. “Did he say anything about what would come if you disobey that order?”
“I would be reprimanded severely.”
“I see.” Twilight threw another pastry in his direction. “I won’t tell him if you won’t.”
Slowly he raised his eyes from the ground. “Are... are you sure, Your Highness?” Twilight shot him a smile, earning an honest one from him in return. “Of course, Your High... I mean, Twilight.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “As you wish.”
With him finally relaxed, Twilight leaned back in her chair and savored her meal. In the wake of the attack, to even think of food had felt like a disservice to the peril of the matter. Night had come, and still that guilt lingered. Still, the sun’s assurance helped alleviate the guilt. If Celestia was strong enough to raise the sun in her state, then not all was doomed in the walls of Canterlot. A reprieve from the heartache would do a world of good, and if chocolate couldn’t mend those cracks then nothing could. Twilight swallowed her biscuit and swept in for another. Any slower, and he’d have polished off the rest.
When all the delicacies had been consumed, her bodyguard leaned back with a satisfied groan, swept up his tea, and lumbered back to his station. Plopping himself upon his padded seat, he drained his cup and glanced idly over his forgotten documents. Twilight watched her cup, saw the tea leaves swimming in their soup, thought of the observatory, and felt her thirst dwindle away. She couldn’t bring herself to finish it. Twilight turned back to her books. If Luna was to be found, she wouldn’t be found by hoping for it. 
By the time her eyes finally gave out, a few more hours had passed them by. Her inspected books had been split between those she’d thought useful and those which would serve no purpose. Much to her displeasure, the former pile was far smaller than the latter. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, returning her attention to the next book in her queue: a thick, ugly text bound in something sickeningly similar to leather. The image of a talon had been branded on its surface, and as she opened the text she found a figure of a griffon rearing proudly on the front page, its wings outspread, a banner held in one paw and a sword in the other. Beneath it, the book’s title: A History of the Griffon Kingdom and its Rulers. A sprawling set of family trees dominated the following pages, with portraits of the last few centuries’ Griffon monarchs and their respective progeny written in fine-point hoof-written scrawl. She closed the book shut, then drifted it to the smaller of the two piles. A little history couldn’t hurt, Twilight thought. If nothing else, it’ll make some good light reading on the trail.
The trail. In light of the day’s events, she’d almost forgotten about the path ahead, the journey she’d promised to make, and the notion of being alone in the wild. This library and her own, Canterlot’s many archives and the warm comfort of her home... These were familiar environments, and she knew how to handle them. She knew what to expect. Ahead, though, was the frontier. The untamed wilds. The Frozen North. Beyond the mountain ranges peeking their heads outside the window, there was nothing. No records, as far as she knew. No civilizations besides the one who’d trespassed into Canterlot and planted its flag in Celestia’s heart. Twilight bit her lip, pulling closer another book to distract her from the thought of being hunted. It was far too much to linger on, and if the corpse-mare’s promise was true? They wouldn’t last a fortnight.
Twilight looked to the book of Griffon history for a moment, then turned away. What would the history books say of her, should she fail? Would there even be a recollection? Or would it be burned in the fires of Sombra’s return, carried on the wings of the changelings now ushering his devastation onwards? To even think he’d truly returned filled her with dread, but to consider his alliance with yet another foe? It made her legs weak just thinking about it. But she had watched him fall once before. She had been there and watched his shadows die in the light of the Crystal Heart. What was there to say it couldn’t happen again? What was there to say it wouldn’t? A part of her knew already. Luna hadn’t even been gone a day. Who knew how long it would take to find her again? Who knew what condition she would be in?
“Ma’am, are you alright?”
Twilight shook herself back to reality to find her bodyguard looking at her hoof worriedly. She followed his eyes, found the biscuit crumbled to pieces beneath her hoof, and quickly cleaned herself of jam. “It’s nothing,” she muttered, wiping her station clean. “Nothing...”
“You were thinking about her, weren’t you?”
Looking at him, never had Twilight seen any soldier so furious. “I was too,” he said. “I don’t understand what could've happened to make someone so... so...” He shuddered. “Captain Shining Armor was right. She really is something else.”
Those horrible yellow eyes pushed out the memory of Luna. Twilight turned to him, shrugging. “She really is.”
“How does something like... like that... happen to a pony?”
It had been a question Twilight had never stopped asking herself, not for a moment. This waking nightmare, this so-called Penumbra... She was more rotten on the inside than on what remained of her outside. The cunning of the twisted encased in the carapace of the deceitful, fueled by madness and hate. Less deserving of a name than she was Twilight’s mercy, but still, even with all these slights against her, she lived. She basked in the sunlight, enjoyed the fresh air... She lived, while Celestia bled. And I’m too weak to do anything about it...
“I wish I knew,” Twilight said quietly. “Changelings can assume the shape of a pony, live out their lives as another without anyone knowing. But to become a pony? To blend the two together is... is impossible. No magic I know of can do something like that.” Twilight hid her eyes. No natural magic, anyway...
His eyes screamed murder. “You should’ve let Colonel Vanguard finish her when you had the chance."
“No. I need her alive and well.”
“Well?” His eyes drained of any reverence for her, flashing with malice as though she were the mare herself. “She stole our princess from us! She stuck a knife in Princess Celestia and laughed about it! She pretty much admitted she’s going to murder you too, if not the rest of us! How could you possibly want to treat her well, after everything she’s done?”
His bared teeth flashed viciously, but with a quick shake of his mane his anger spirited itself away. He sat down hard, cursing under his breath. “Forgive me. It was inappropriate of me to yell. I just... I can’t... I’ll never forgive her for what she did. No sane pony can. Death isn’t good enough for her. She deserves so much worse.”
“She has information we need, and being her enemy will only guarantee her silence. We must treat her as a guest if we're to find out anything. Once we find Luna and a way to cure Celestia, she’ll be of no use to us anymore.” They shared a little glance, a mutual understanding that seemed to calm him down some. “We’ll deal with her then.”
He nodded his agreement, though a part of him, just below the surface, boiled violently. “I’ll try my best to be civil, but a pony like that isn’t a pony worth helping. Whatever she has to say isn’t something you should trust. You saw how she behaved in there. She betrayed us once, and she’ll do it again.”
“Everyone deserves a second chance, even our enemies.”
“Did you give King Sombra a second chance?” 
Twilight froze, breathless. He saw her hesitation, her inability to even move, and dropped his head solemnly. “I would never question your motives, ma’am, nor would I impose on things you might want forgotten. I heard tales of what he’d done, how he enslaved the Crystal Empire for his own benefit. He was a threat to the world, not just Equestria. He had to be destroyed if we were to live in peace.” He returned to his scrolls with one last respectful bow. “Not everyone deserves to be saved.”
In the spaces between breaths Twilight could finally appreciate how silent the library truly was. The thoughts inside her head screamed and fought against each other, vying for the chance to be the course she’d follow. Every fiber of her being agreed with him: the corpse-mare had given no mercy, and thus had earned none. She had lied and murdered her way to Celestia, forgoing everything to fulfill an empty promise to a mad king more substantial in her twisted mind than in the world she’d condemned. But through her were the lives of Luna and Celestia. Her blade had split them asunder, and it was to that same blade that their lives were bound. To let her live was to invite their doom, and to kill her was to seal it. Twilight turned to her books and idly floated the next one down, hating herself for feeling so sour. For all her love of libraries, there was nothing here to suggest anything useful would be found within these walls. This whole venture has been a waste of time.
Turning her eyes downward, Twilight caught her breath. Or not...
Before her, blazing brightly in the sun, lay a thick text lavishly adorned in bold colors and swirling borderlines. In the center of the cover, an ornate triangle had been stamped in silver ink. An arrangement of stars following the airy sweep of a comet whirled in the triangle’s heart. Something about it was far too familiar, but the more she thought on it the more her mind turned up blank. She ignored the symbol and turned to the rest. I'll remember eventually. 
At the triangle’s corners lay three symbols: at the top, a small fire belching heat; in the left corner, a little glimmering horn; and in the right corner, a wind-swept eye. Scratches and what appeared to be burn marks gave the cover the appearance of something well-loved. Or well-despised, Twilight thought, opening the book to its middle. When was the last time anyone tried setting fire to one of their books lovingly? The thought made her chuckle. Celestia would have my horn if she ever saw me doing something like that!
Looking about the pages, Twilight found not boring mountains of text, but drawings, pictures, and diagrams with little colts and fillies in mind. The artist's love affair with their color palette was a horribly kept secret; the pages ran rampant with colors in vibrant hues, still bright even after the years had faded them. Every picture followed a similar vein: the image of a filly or colt standing beside a middle-aged unicorn in one pane, and that same pair standing beside a beautifully drawn magical spell in the other. Below each picture, the incantation for a spell was printed in large letters beside an explanation of that spell’s effects and requirements. Turning the page, Twilight found herself looking at a filly standing beside a roaring fire, a smile painted on her thin, inky lips. Turning back to the first page, she found clear, blocky text firmly stamped for easy reading:


The Wonderful World of Magic: The Gifted Unicorn’s Workbook


By: Willow Wand


With a Special Introduction by: 


Lord Star-Swirl the Bearded, 


High Magister of Equestria and Chief Advisor to Her Radiance Princess Celestia.


Had it been possible, the sun outside grew a little brighter. Twilight pulled her nose from the book and swept aside the pages until the picture of the filly and her fire lay stretched out upon the table. There, just as she hoped, sat the aging unicorn smiling down at his student. He wore no bells or caps streaming with stars, nor flowing cape with its feathered adornments. There was only an emphasis on the beginnings of what would very soon become the beard of lore. There, standing patiently beside an aspiring student, stood a legend. It should’ve been so obvious before! That was no mere magician! That was Star-Swirl himself!
Minutely drawn, his eyes were just as heavy-lidded as she’d expected from the world-weathered soul of her fantasies. There was a stern security there, a security a father might have for their child. Like Luna and Celestia had for her. Twilight could almost feel herself in the little filly’s horseshoes, could feel his honest expectation for her success cloud the air. She imagined her spell succeeding, and felt his pride sweep her up. She imagined her spell failing, and felt as that expectation turned swiftly to understanding, not disappointment or frustration as a lesser mentor might have done. She could feel him wanting her not only to succeed, but to surpass, and as she returned to the world around her Twilight could feel his eyes remain, urging her confidently onwards. Twilight stroked the picture and beamed. Just the encouragement I need.
“Where did you find this?” 
Twilight drifted the textbook towards her bodyguard. He took a look at it, then plucked it from her grasp. ‘It looks like it belongs in the Little Foals section,” he muttered, flipping to the book’s title page. He leaned a little closer, staring at the pages in disbelief. “Wait... I know this name...”
“Star-Swirl the Bearded?”
He nodded furiously. “There’s a wing of the castle named after him, right? I remember having to patrol that hallway once! Worst damn place to be at night, let me tell you...” He caught himself with a little cough. “Sorry, Twilight. I forgot myself just then...”
“You didn’t forget to call me Twilight, though,” she said, beaming at him. A smile slowly crept into his lips, which only made Twilight smile wider. We’re making progress! Twilight nodded back to the book, sitting up as proudly as she could. “Star-Swirl the Bearded was the greatest, most revered authority on magic the world ever knew! He’s responsible for more things than we can count. He uncovered new branches of magic, refined Magical Theory into an actual discipline... He even postulated that everypony—Pegasi, Unicorns, and Earth ponies alike—had different, complementary forms of magic. Everything we know about the Elements of Harmony came from him! I’ve read every book I can find on his life and times. If anyone’s worthy of a wing in the Canterlot Library, it's him!"
“Then what’s he doing writing children’s books?”
“It doesn’t look like he wrote anything but the introduction.” Twilight drifted the textbook gingerly atop her pile. She could feel him cringe looking at just how heavy it was. “I know it might seem like dead weight, but basic magic is often the most useful. Who knows when I’ll need a refresher on how to start a fire?”
He pulled another book from his queue. “I wouldn’t worry too much about that. If anyone knows how to start a fire, it’s Rosy.”
“Rosy? Who’s Rosy?”
He turned to her, confused, only to find her more baffled than himself. “Compass Rose? The archer? You sent him to get your dragon, remember?”
Twilight gave him a calm smile, thanking the forces that were that he couldn’t hear her screaming at herself. Their names! How could she have never asked for their names? Already she could feel herself being scolded by Rarity from afar for abandoning common decency. She could feel Luna and Celestia breathing down her neck, disappointment snorting like steam from their nostrils. It’s not like it would’ve been so hard, Twilight thought. They’re giving up everything to help you. You owe them at least that much.
“So, this Rosy..." She turned to find him straining to open what appeared to be a diary firmly sealed with a large silver clasp. Whatever mechanism had locked it tight had appeared to have malfunctioned, leaving him unable to open it no matter how hard he strained. He gave up with a little huff, chucking the book back on the pile with a frown. “Don’t tell him I called him that,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eye. “He hates being called that.”
“So what should I call him?”
“Just Compass Rose." He caught the look in Twilight’s eyes and understood immediately that she wanted more. “He’s a scout, ma'am. It’s his job to provide reconnaissance in the field. Mainly he just does aerial patrol work, but he’s a real wizard when it comes to camping, navigation, and wilderness survival. He was an obvious choice for this mission.” His eyes dropped back to his scroll. “It took a little convincing the colonel to allow him to go, but eventually he came around.”
“What was the problem?”
“Rosy’s a good soldier, but he’s... he’s not exactly hardened, if you can understand that. Sometimes he doesn’t catch on as quickly as Colonel Vanguard needs him to, and he’s a little frail.” He dropped his head, a sad little flicker in his eye. “Vanguard’s never really liked him, and it’s a shame. He’s only ever been kind to me.”
Twilight watched him hang his head with a sad smile. She, too, knew how heavy the weight of subordinance could be. “This Vanguard sounds like he expects a lot out of his soldiers.”
“A lot would be an understatement. Perfection isn’t good enough most times, and he’s not one who likes to remind ponies of their duties. He passes out orders like they’re candies, doesn’t take no for an answer, and if you argue with him? Let’s just say if a lower-ranking officer challenges his authority in the morning, you’d be hearing about the poor bastard’s court-martial by lunchtime.”
Twilight balked at that. “If he’s so horrible, why’d you sign on to be his subordinate?”
Despite everything Twilight expected, his face lit up with pride. “To say you’re serving under Colonel Vanguard is worth more than any rank! He’s the hardest, most demanding officer in the Royal Guard, so to be one of the few who survive his training is to be one of the most well-disciplined and highly-regarded soldiers Canterlot has to offer. Your brother is remarkable, ma’am, and it's a pleasure to know him. But Vanguard? He’s a legend!”
To hear the fervor in his voice as he lauded his commander sounded all too familiar, reminded her of how she felt for Celestia and Luna. How the twisted Penumbra sounded preaching about her Lord of Shadows. Twilight shook herself free of the thought, though it skulked somewhere in the background. It could be dangerous, to think too hard on it.
“So what about you,” Twilight said, giving him a little urging nod. “You’ve talked about your friend and your captain, but I haven’t heard anything about you. What’s your story?”
“I...” He stopped, at a loss for words. “I don’t really know where to start, ma’am.”
“You could start with your name, perhaps?” A little laugh escaped her lips. “I mean, it seems a little wrong to know the name of Celestia’s attacker before the name of the stallion who helped me bring her to justice.”
“But I’m not a...” He caught his tongue, his eyes furtively glancing to her hooves. “I’m... I'm not that special, ma’am. You speak as though I’m her savior, and I’m not. I’m just an ordinary grunt.”
“Do you call what you did yesterday ordinary? I saw how you handled yourself, how you fought with Vanguard. You were fearless! You jumped in and fought for me without a second thought! Scary as it was, I’m impressed at what you did!” Twilight bowed her head. “And grateful. Very grateful. Without your help, I probably wouldn’t be here talking to you.”
She watched his eyes glaze over, watched him hold his head on the floor, and heard nothing. Quietly his mind drifted away, his face lined in pain. “I wish I could say I did the same for Princess Celestia.”
“You did more than you know,” Twilight said, patting him on his armored shoulder. He remained in his place, soaking in her praise with a distant, wan smile. A part of him still lingered on Celestia like Twilight did. She was as much of a reminder of the stark truth of their mission as the fresh nicks on his armor, carved-out ridges that hadn’t dulled with the passage of time. Twilight could feel the scratches left by the tough fibers of the brush that had scoured his plating free of blood. Twilight pulled her hoof back. He had done more than he knew, indeed. More than anyone should ever have to do.
Twilight gave him a reassuring smile, and soon the fog lifted from his eyes. He nodded his understanding, returned her smile, and pulled his scroll closer. Twilight looked to the grand lobby below them and the sunlight streaming higher through the windows, pulling the next article down from the pile. Still the day ticked on relentlessly, but with his help, at least the coming of the dawn would remain a certainty.
Before she knew, the sunlight that had once but kissed the base of her desk had entreated upon its surface and sat glimmering through her water glass. The last hour’s progress had been only marginally more profitable. The book on Griffon history was now the base of a growing pile of tightly-tucked scrolls, ribbon-bound manuscripts, and other oddities buried somewhere in the towering aisles the now-snoozing soldier behind her had scoured. His pile, too, had grown substantially; a few additional spellbooks had been added atop Star-Swirl’s workbook, along with a host of scrolls bound in red ribbons, a bestiary cataloging Equestria’s diverse fauna, and a variety of loose-leaf parchments upon which various schematics had been drawn. By his nose sat the curious little book with its broken latch, retaining its solidarity despite his efforts. Even baking in the sunlight, it looked as though a single touch might freeze Twilight solid.
Twilight turned back to her pile and drifted down the next in line: a weathered little book bound in blue, an emerald bee stamped proudly on its surface. It had to have been centuries old, and yet it looked far younger. The owner must’ve really loved this, Twilight thought, brushing the surface with a smile. She opened the cover and read the book's title: An Amateur’s Guide to Apiculture and a Catalog of the Species’ Many Forms. A partly smeared inscription hovered in the bottom corner, its faded letters delicately penned by a true master of the art; every opportunity to accentuate the letters inscribed had been taken, and elegantly so. Squinting, Twilight looked a little closer and deciphered the text:


I’d give you my luck, but we both know you don’t need it. Congratulations on your appointment to the position of Vice-Archivist! May this book forever collect dust on your bookshelf! You’re a master of your craft now, and I couldn’t be more proud of you. Perhaps, one day, you’ll need a reminder about how not to get stung by those pesky little devils. Hopefully, though, you need no reminder that you’re the best friend I could ever have asked for. I look forward to seeing summer come with you beside me. Until then, all my love.


-Your dearest Penny


Hoof-written notes lined every margin alongside little sketches of bees and their related parts. One wonderfully detailed diagram of a hive had been noted with comments and disagreements, dashed-out words and their replacements emboldened with strict underlines. Whoever had this book last had truly been a master scholar; no scribbled space had been wasted on idle nonsense, and no comment or claim went unsupported. Twilight took another look through, but it was obvious there would be no answers as to Luna’s whereabouts. Still, the notion that this book was history tickled her heart. It can come too, she thought, placing it tenderly atop the stack. If I can't learn beekeeping, I’ll at least learn a thing or two about how to properly annotate my textbooks. 
Twilight turned back to her pile, rejoicing that only a few last books remained for her perusal. She pulled down the topmost one but stopped, looking instead to the largest one lingering untouched at the bottom. Heavy parchment edged in gold caught her eye, silently screaming to be opened. Sliding it out, Twilight sat in awe of its size. Not a lick of free space remained on her desk to even open it. She slid it to the floor, swept aside her chair, and gingerly unbuckled the binding straps until she was able to open it fully. Drawing close, she read the title page with bated breath:


By Order of 


His Royal Highness Prince Palladium the Mountain-Tamer:


Furoros’ Bane and Lord Sovereign of the Gilded Lands,


And


By Commission of the Council of Seven 


in the Five-Hundredth and Fifty-First Year of the First Age.



THE GILDED LANDS:


Her Territories, Holdings, and Provinces



Hither N. Yon


His Majesty’s Royal Cartographer



In Commemoration of 


Her Grace Princess Platinum's Cuteceñera


 Below the final line, a portrait of a plum-skinned filly dolled in her frilliest of white dresses sat proudly in what could only have been her father's throne. Above cheeks dotted with freckles, a far-seeing glaze shrouded over her eyes, piercing the confines of the page and onwards through time. Was this the face of the would-be first princess of Equestria?
Turning the page, Twilight blew aside a thin layer of dust to reveal a hoofpainted map of the world, its landscape marked by drawings, symbols, and golden threads marking territories, states, and nations. Familiar though it was, there was no Canterlot, no Ponyville, and no Equestria. Instead, each would-be modern city sat within separate delineated boundaries, each of them identified by their own unique names and their own hoof-drawn holdfasts. A large swath of land painted in purple boasted The Gilded Lands in golden ink, its fragmented provinces hugging the north-eastern coast of what would be Equestria. To the far south, the artist had portioned a few territories under an unadorned Earth Pony banner. To the northwest, a large tract of mountain range had been allocated to the Pegasi. In one corner of the page, the artist had delicately painted an ornate assembly of pegasi casting their respective winds to the far corners of the map. In the other, golden leaf had been stamped in swirling adornment around a fading legend in crimson ink. Twilight drew back, stunned. This was more than a book. This was a priceless artifact!
"What in the world?"
Twilight turned to find her groggy bodyguard peering over her shoulder. Twilight brushed her hoof over the page one more time, letting the sensation of history trickle through her hooves and make her heart soar. “This? This is no ordinary map! This is Equestria before it was Equestria! This is us!” She placed her hoof directly on the minute figure of the Crystal Empire's palace, the figurehead of the tiny empire which, even then, sat proudly on the plains north of Canterlot's mountain. "The Crystal Empire hasn't changed much, but look anywhere else and you don't see any familiar names! There's no Manehattan, no Baltimare, no Cloudsdale or Fillydelphia or Las Pegasus!" Her eyes fell on the forests in the mountain’s shadow, searching in vain for any evidence of the thatched-roof houses of home. Only the untamed Everfree remained where it should have been. Twilight sighed. “Looks like the cartographer missed a spot. That, or Ponyville hadn’t been established yet.”
“You’d think he wouldn't have missed something like this,” the soldier said, pointing to the northern edge of the map. Beyond the mountain ranges and the Pegasi lands, the words Northern Wastes had been written without adornment or emotion. Territory lines transformed from bold, assured stamps to dotted lines, then ended without explanation. Roads and thoroughfares became mere trails and footpaths. Then, there was nothing. No paint, no lines, and no names. Twilight’s heart sank. No clues.
Her bodyguard snorted. “What good is a map if it doesn’t help you get to where you need to go?”
Twilight’s eyes fell to the pages. This book, this atlas... It was far too thick for just one map! There had to have been more inside! Twilight skimmed the pages in a blur, her eyes lighting up with each new image. Finally, she found the piece she’d hoped would present itself: the Northern Wastes. It would take a skilled navigator to sift through the runes and symbols laid out on the stark-white landscape. But luckily, we have one! "This is perfect,” Twilight exclaimed, wheeling on her bodyguard. "Where did you find this? There has to be more like it!"
He pondered for a moment, hitting on the answer with a start. "If I recall, I pulled this from the basement after you'd fallen asleep. Back row of the archives, by some weird statue."
"Think you can get there again?"
"Yes, ma'am!"
Twilight nodded, then turned to the piles behind them. With a little nod the purple aura of her magic cradled their respective books and ordered them neatly in their saddlebags. He hefted the atlas atop his back and locked it into place as Twilight's magic returned everything to its rightful place. As she turned to follow him to the archives, she took a few moments to bask in the sunlight. 
With the prospect of another few hours in the recesses of the library, it was a much needed moment indeed.



It was no small wonder why the Crystal Empire Library had been first on her list of resources. Wherever she looked, there was information buried snugly beneath dusty blankets, begging to be rediscovered. Every sunlit shelf in the library above had been crucial, and every book now bouncing in her saddlebags was one step closer to Luna and the north. But if the library halls above them had been only slightly productive, then these musty corridors were a veritable treasure trove.
Beneath the wavering candles’ glow, every faded word Twilight read exuded history. The ancient texts’ bindings creaked and cracked with voices of their own, hoarse with disuse but tainted each with their own unique accents and dialects. One fine depiction of an ancient battle had been illustrated on a parchment scroll so wide she’d had to take an effort not to tread on it while reading it. Transactions and shipments from forgotten vendors on ramshackle streets had been inked in a little black manuscript, the lives and livelihoods of merchants and their families recorded forevermore in a book no different from any other. One epic poem, quickly discarded in disgust, had been inscribed on the very skin of the serpentine foe the poem had vilified. Each of them was special in their own way, but none could claim more importance than the text she now read. 
It was adorned in purple and gold just like its brother, but no maps awaited her here. No pictures or illustrations for an eager foal to enjoy. This companion work was a life’s labor indeed, a complete history of a forgotten kingdom. Twilight had read the title page nearly dozens of times, for there was something wonderfully strong in its simplicity. A History of the Gilded Lands. A paragon of recordkeeping, if there ever was one: a compendium of every beneficent king and brutal tyrant; of every skirmish, battle, war, and cataclysm; of every economic boon and cultural endeavour. The birth of Ponykind, and every moment from then to the fall of the once-great civilization. It was an entire era of Pony history in her hooves’ grasp, but it was no Luna. It was no step forward as they needed. It was merely a piece to an undiscovered puzzle, one which led closer to finding some answers. Twilight slipped it into her saddlebags and grimaced. There wasn’t room for much more before it was time to leave.
She looked to her bodyguard to find him zooming past in a blur, scrolls and papers fluttering in his wake. He flapped and flitted his way between the aisles, scouring the shelves for any sign of a possible prize only to return empty-hooved and more disappointed than the time before. He yanked texts and books from their shelves and discarded them just as vigorously, at every moment both excited and dissatisfied. Another solid hour’s work left him utterly spent, dragging his wings on the floor with a frown. “Nothing,” he grumbled, plopping himself down with a metal clank. “I’ve looked everywhere, but I can’t find anything we haven’t inspected already.”
“No more atlases?”
He shook his head. “None that could come with us. If they’re not disintegrated, they’re burnt, and if they’re not burnt they’re waterlogged, slashed, missing crucial pages, or filled with incomprehensible scribbling. Nothing like that atlas we found. I doubt we’ll find anything more detailed than that.”
Twilight nodded her agreement. It was a truly remarkable find indeed, if for nothing else than the fact it had been dedicated to Princess Platinum herself. If it couldn’t get them to the Northern Wastes, it could at least get them started. “You’ve done well,” Twilight said, shooting him a comforting smile. “You must be baking under all that armor. Please, take a load off. You’ve earned a break.”
“This?” He tapped his breastplate, rubbing off the sweat with a proud smile. “I’d prefer to leave it on, ma’am, if you don’t mind. You never know when you might need to be on the defensive.”
“I doubt we’ll be attacked here,” Twilight said, “but do as you will. I can handle things from here.”
There was a little spring in his step as he shook off his duties and plopped himself against a nearby statue. Twilight smiled as he took his break, but tried her hardest to keep her eyes on him and not on the unicorn towering above them. Weird had been an understatement; the statue he’d used as his landmark was downright bone-chilling. A featureless face carved from pristine white marble stared blindly at an emerald orb held motionlessly in the unicorn mare’s outstretched hooves. Stony as she was, her hindquarters had melted like wax into the plinth on which she sat, indistinguishable to the point where the two seemed carved from the same bland stone. Every moment was an eternity just waiting for her to animate and drop her crystalline cargo upon Twilight’s waiting head. Just thinking about it had been too much of a distraction, for as Twilight brought herself back to her work she found foreign lines of text. Twilight grimaced. Lost my place...
“I wonder who she was,” the soldier said, glancing skyward. He’d reclined himself against the statue’s podium, kicking at dust bunnies impatiently. “Only important ponies get statues made of them. I wonder why this pony got one.”
“Couldn’t tell you,” Twilight replied, her eyes glued to her scroll. “It’s probably just decoration, unless there’s a plaque with a dedication.”
“None that I can see.”
“Then I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” Twilight turned back to her manuscript, cursing under her breath. Lost my place again...
“Do you have any statues? Being a princess, you’ve got to have a statue, right?”
Twilight turned to him to find him leaning forward, eagerly awaiting her answer. Thinking it over, she couldn’t recall. She also couldn’t recall those last lines she’d been reading. “Not that I can think of. If you’re going to take a break, I’d appreciate it if you do it quietly. I’m starting to lose my focus.”
“Of course.” He leaned back, his helmet clinking against the marble with a tinny tink tink. “It’s nearly mid-day, ma’am. When are we expected to meet up with Colonel Vanguard?”
Twilight closed her eyes. Is it really going to be this difficult? “I never gave him a time. We’ll get there when we find something worth leaving here for. Until then, I need some quiet.”
“So he’s just waiting out there with... with Penumbra?”
Twilight turned to him, surprised. There hadn’t been any aggression on his lips in speaking the would-be assassin’s name. He seemed wary, but docile. Was he actually taking her plea for understanding to heart? “I have the utmost confidence in the colonel,” Twilight said, “and I know he can handle her. If your friend Rosy follows through, and if he can read that map, then we’ll have a whole heap of information to get us started.” 
He leaned back with a sigh, tapping his helmet against the podium impatiently. Tink tink tink. “Will we have the room to carry everything? We’ve got enough books to carry as it is, and depending on—”
“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but right now I’d ask you to keep your thoughts to yourself. If you’re going to rest, then please do so quietly. The last thing I need right now is more distractions.”
He clacked his hoof to his helmet in a quick salute, but she could see his ears droop a little. “Of course, ma’am,” he whispered, returning to his seat. “Let me know when you need me.”
“I will.”
She heard him sigh, then return to tapping his helmet. Tink tink tink. Twilight watched him from the corner of her eye, cursing herself for being so brusque. He was only trying to be nice, to take an interest. To be a friend. Celestia knows I could use a friend right now, she thought, struggling to keep her attention on her scroll. She could feel him squirming nearby, idly tapping his helm against the plinth. Tink tink tink. Twilight pushed her scroll away and drew another close, looking over the first lines. Nothing came that might help light the path. Helpful though this trip had been, there was a distinct lack of information about the Frozen North. Was it by design? Had all of Ponykind recognized the importance of forgetting such an arid place and she, in her ignorance, wasn’t catching on?
Tink tink tink. 
Twilight ground her hoof into her forehead. Think, think, think! Where else could I possibly look?
Tink tink tink. 
I’ve checked the Archives, the Library, the main Lobby... I’ve looked everywhere, and so has he! Was there somewhere we missed? Somewhere we forgot to check?
Tink tink tink.
I didn’t see anything in the history book. The one on the Griffons wouldn’t have anything. The beginner’s spellbook? No, why would it have anything?
Tink tink TUNK.
Twilight’s mind’s train came to a screeching halt. She turned to her bodyguard to find him lazing against the statue, his eyes closed, twiddling his hoof blithely. Even in the absence of sunlight, he seemed utterly warm, happy in his semi-sleep. He didn’t even seem aware of just what he was doing as he clicked his helmet against the statue’s base. Tunk tunk tunk. Twilight slid from her chair and drew close, straining to hear every sound she could. He opened his eyes and jolted at her proximity. TUNK!
“Did you hear that?” Twilight slid as close as she could to the plinth, her ear flat against its cold dusty surface. Inches away from her, her bodyguard appeared to be utterly dumbfounded. 
“I didn’t hear anything, ma’am! What’s wrong? Is someone coming?”
“No, listen...”
With a hoof she tapped on one corner of the podium, her eyes closed. Tink tink. She drew her hoof closer. Tink tink. Another few inches closer. Tink tink. She bit her lip, praying for something to come. Anything to confirm she hadn’t been dreaming. Tink tink tink. She put her hoof right beside her eyes. Please, let there be something...
Tunk tunk.
“Here!” Twilight looked up at him, her eyes alight with excitement. “It’s right here!”
“What is, ma’am?”
“The way forward!”
He flicked his eyes between her and the statue’s plinth, utterly baffled. “I don’t understand. Is there something I’m missing?”
Twilight looked to him, then back to the statue. There was something missing, indeed. A way through, and if her suspicions were correct? There was even more to be discovered, things worth hiding away from the world behind a marble sentinel. All it would take was some brute force to find them. But you’re smarter than that, she thought. Why use brute force when you’ve got magic?
“Stand back.”
Without a word he scrambled to his hooves and took his place behind her, bracing for whatever might come. Twilight closed her eyes, conjuring up her magic from every corner of her body. A whirling orb of light sprouted from her horn, condensing and swirling into a luminous little point that quaked and shook at its reins. Faster it whirled, vibrating violently, but Twilight held her focus. It would need to be quick, the transition between spells, but if she could handle this ball of pure explosive energy then a simple shield spell would be easy enough. Once the light had condensed as tight as she could make it, Twilight pointed her horn at the base of the statue. She sent out a little apology to Cadance, opened her eyes, and let her magic go.
A ball of fiery light burst from her horntip and sailed screaming to the base of the podium, joined quickly by a little pop as a shield spell burst to life, sealing the statue in its confines. The blast shattered marble and stone in a fiery ball so violent that Twilight’s bodyguard jumped feet in the air, yelping loudly. Twilight shot him a smirk, standing confidently beside her handiwork and its self-contained devastation. And here my prisoner thought I was incompetent...
When the dust had settled, Twilight muttered the proper counterspell and dissolved her protective bubble. Crisp, cold air rushed through her mane, and as she cleared the rubble she found herself staring into a pitch-black hole in the statue’s heart. A little star sprang from her horn, spreading its clear white light overhead. Peering in, she found a rough stone staircase spiraling further into the earth. She gave her bodyguard a little wink, then stepped through the hole and into the dark.
No slick steps or grand caverns, nor any reason for fear. As it hadn’t been in the belly of Canterlot, this tunnel filled her with fascination, not dread. Despite everything, there was something in the air that made her eager, filled her head with theories as to the tunnel’s purpose. When she finally came to the end, all those theories drained away. No smuggler’s den filled with treasure. No danger. Merely a heavy wooden door, its handle blasted apart, ringed in scorch marks. Twilight pressed her weight against the door until she was able to will it open. Then, with a nudge, she drew her bodyguard close and stepped inside.
Her little star flitted to the ceiling, casting its light over what appeared to be a study room. Books and documents draped in cobwebs sat in piles along the walls. A toppled globe, half-burned, sat at the room’s heart, unmoved for what looked like centuries. Random parchments inked with unrecognizable scribbling littered the floor, while a set of books sat carefully on what remained of a wooden table. Twilight looked about, finding nothing to catch her eye save the glint of silver from atop the nearby workstation. It was a lure in the dark, and before she knew Twilight felt herself seated at the ancient desk, looking about in wonder.
There was something about the books scattered on the table that demanded her reverence. She could feel them almost watching her, waiting for her to touch them as though she might be the one to finally uncover their secrets. Twilight drew them close, laying them out in an orderly line. The first, bound in brown, had been stamped with a symbol very much alike the one on Star-Swirl’s spellbook for young foals, but there was no warmth in it. This symbol was cold, rough-hewn and alien, alluding to nothing. Twilight opened it carefully to find herself reading gibberish. Every character was nothing more than scribbled runes penned hastily into a sprawling mass seemingly without syntax. Still, though, someone had taken the time to record it. It had to have had some function, but unless there was some key to decode it, it was useless. For now, at least.
The second book was just like the first: gibberish. Naught for two. Twilight swept it aside, but not before a fleeting image caught her eye. Opening up the inside cover, she found the same comet-and-star mark from before. But it alone had some meaning; every page from cover to cover was marked in an indecipherable language. The latter pages seemed to be filled with drawings, sketches, and hastily scratched out images, but Twilight couldn’t be sure. She was only certain of the fact that these books were special, unintelligible though they were.
Twilight wrapped the two up in her magic and slid them into her saddlebags. If she pushed it, there would be room for the final book: a thick manuscript, well-worn on the edges, a hoof-and-heart mark inked in gold on its cover. Flipping through the first few pages, Twilight breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, actual intelligible words! But this, as opposed to the others, was no mere book. Every page’s corner was marked with a date, the text below it delineated with times and occurrences of events and their outcomes. Reading through, an elegantly penned Gilded Lands stood out amongst the text. Twilight broke out into a smile. In her hooves was a journal, a day-to-day account of Platinum’s kingdom. A perfect addition, Twilight mused, slipping the book into her saddlebags. The last piece of the collection. 
“What is this place,” the guard said, astonished, glancing over the tower of books on the wall. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“A study,” Twilight replied, looking over at the various trinkets and documents littering the table. “Someone used this chamber as their workplace.”
“Someone was working inside a statue? A little odd, don’t you think?”
“Odd doesn’t even begin to cover it. I can see why it might have been preferred, though. No distractions. No ponies getting in your way. It’s relaxing, in a way.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he said, kicking a book in her direction. Its pages were lined in scribbling, more ink than paper, filled to every margin with rough illustrations and utter nonsense. A small faded flower had been stamped on its cover. “We’ve seen nothing but these scribbles, Twilight, both here and upstairs. I get the feeling they put that statue there for a reason. Someone must’ve snapped. How else do you explain it?”
Twilight looked to the scribbles and shrugged. “I see it as someone’s train of thought. Sometimes, to flush something out, it helps to write it down. Anything helps, even if it's gibberish. Seeing something on a page helps distance thoughts from the world around you, frees them from anything that might trouble you.” Twilight felt herself beam as she looked at the pages. “I’ve learned to place a lot of stock in journals in the course of my life. I can only assume this means the world to whomever this belonged to.”
“And do you have any idea who that might be?”
“I bet, given time, I can find out.” 
Gingerly she floated the book to her saddlebags, slipping it in the cracks with a satisfied smile. A perfect fit, which could only mean one thing: it was finally time to leave. Twilight looked to the scorched walls and memorized every crack, every cobweb in the corners and the half-burned candles nearby. She looked to the tunnel from whence they came and the last shreds of light from above. A part of her yearned to leave this place, to begin the search and dive into the little universes clanking about on her flanks. But this was home, and no matter how eager she was to find Luna her body seemed resolute to stay. It took her a few more minutes to gather the courage to pull herself away, but with a strong little breath she turned to her bodyguard, checked the buckles on her bags, and gave him a quiet nod. “There's nothing more we can do here. It’s time to go.”
Quietly she unfurled her wings, spreading them wide over the two of them. He drew close to her without reservation, their priceless atlas slung over his back, keeping an eye on her as she conjured forth her magic. A ball of flickering purple light sprang to the middle of the room, ripping the air and whirling the room into a gale. Twilight stepped forward to meet it, but as she drew close she felt him recede behind her. She turned to him to find him stock-still, watching her quietly. “What’s wrong,” she asked, concern in her eyes.
He stared, terrified. Then, with a little gulp, he raised his head up proudly and gave her a smile. “You asked me before, but I never really gave you an answer. It’s Summer. My... my name is Summer.”
Twilight looked over the disheveled state of his helmet’s crest, saw the scratches dotting his armor... Saw him, in all his dirtiness, in all his fear and uncertainty, but not as a bodyguard. Not as a soldier. Twilight saw him look back at her, and found hope. ”I’m glad you’re with me,” she said, bowing her head. She felt his helmet’s crest brush her hair as he did the same, and there, locked together with mutual respect, Twilight knew the path ahead. She turned to her spell, drew him close, shared a nod, and stepped with him into her ball of light. The world slipped away, pulling them onwards for parts and fates unknown, bringing her closer to a new world full of danger. But that notion didn’t frighten her as she’d expected. There was nothing to fear, no promises the twisted Penumbra could make to make her feel any less hopeful for success. They would succeed. They would find Luna and bring her home. They would find a way to rid the virulent curse running rampant in that heart of hearts. No Lord of Shadows could take that away from her. No daughter of darkness could make her feel otherwise. She knew in her heart everything would turn out for the best. Twilight closed her eyes and let the world sail past, her bodyguard close-by, side-by-side with all the hope in the world.
Side-by-side with a friend.