//------------------------------// // Crossing the Line // Story: Trinity // by Freescript the Bard //------------------------------// “This is a bad idea,” Cloudlight warily remarked to Twilight above the thundering clamor in the room beyond. Since their altercation only moments before, the pair had ascended the stairway up to the top, where the noise and light continued. The stallion tried to flee only once before he was caught again in Twilight’s magic, an experience he decided was not worth repeating. “Where the hay are you guys!?” he reprimanded Blaze and Rowan. “Waiting on the first floor,” Rowan replied calmly. Cloudlight blinked in confusion. “So you aren’t coming to help me?” “As psychotic as this mare is, Cloudlight, she does have a point: you do have some responsibility for... whatever it is that’s happening up there,” Blaze offered in Rowan’s defense. “Besides, better one of us perish than all three, right?” With a roll of his eyes, the pegasus sent a vibe of annoyance at the unicorn and earth pony. “Or both of you are too frightened.” There was an instant of silence in the link. “We’ll think of something,” Blaze said. “Just go along with her for now, and we will be there presently.” Twilight glanced back at the stallion, who to her had suddenly fallen to complete silence despite constantly groaning about going back into the room. “Are you coming, or are you going to try to fly away again?” “Both,” Cloudlight said with a sly smile. “Well hurry up with either,” she snapped, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, it’s like talking to a foal.” Cloudlight frowned, approaching the door with the unicorn. “That’s hurtful.” “You don’t do much to redeem yourself,” Twilight pointed out. Carefully, she took the rusted handles of the door in her telekinesis. Biting her lip, Twilight began to have second thoughts about entering the room. Beyond the oak of the door, the thundering noise continued, and the eerie purple light filtered through the seams in the wood. “Well go on,” Cloudlight ugred. “You’re the one with the deathwish.” “Says the one who caused an unstable magical phenomenon out of idiotic curiosity,” Twilight retorted, glaring at the stallion. “I should be making you open it.” “Yeah, well, I have respect for the value of my life, something you seem to lack in its entirety,” the pegasus grumbled back, though he made a cautious step away to betray his fear of her. “What are you waiting for, madmare? Open the door.” With a resorting sigh, Twilight nodded and steeled herself. Taking in an anxious breath, she hesitated a moment more. Then, taking the handles of the large door in her magical grasp, the tense unicorn exhaled. Here goes nothing... In the same manner somepony might remove a bandage, she threw the doors open. A blast of noise and light struck her. The sudden movement startled Cloudlight, who immediately hid behind the threshold. Looking over, he noted Twilight had done the same instead of entering the room. So much for a deathwish, Cloudlight chuckled to himself. Twilight took another breath in and out, trying to settle her nerves. “Hey,” she barked over the noise at Cloudlight. “Take a peek in and tell me what you see.” “Aha! Yeah, right,” Cloudlight scoffed. “Like that’s about to happen.” “You’re the only one who witnessed the event at its point of inception. In order to determine the escalation of the event and if it’s safe to observe closely, I need you to make an accurate comparison of the initial magnitude of the phenomenon to its present magnitude,” ordered Twilight with a commanding glare. “Plus, you caused it, so it’s your responsibility.” Cloudlight groaned. “Fine.” The pegasus hesitated, taking a few breaths. “Here goes...nothing...” As quick as he could, Cloudlight peeked around the threshold, gave everything a quick once-over, then ducked back behind the wall. There was a very panicked look in his eyes, and Twilight could almost swear she heard him whimpering. “Well?” the mare prompted. “What’s it like?” “Still bucking big and still bucking scary!” Cloudlight yelled back in exasperation. “What do you want from me, an essay!?” That would be nice, Twilight admitted to herself. “I mean how much worse has it gotten?” Giving her a flat stare, Cloudlight blinked at the unicorn. “I just told you! It’s just as terrifying as the first time!” Twilight stared back at the pegasus for a bit, analyzing what he just told her with what she knew already. Slowly, she began to piece together a situational analysis of the event, building a conclusion on the safety of the phenomenon environment. “Okay,” she stated calmly, emerging from her place of hiding to stride casually into the room. Cloudlight was dumbfounded. Is she insane!? When she didn’t exit the room after a few moments, Cloudlight nodded to himself. Well, the crazy mare just killed herself. May you find peace from your addled mind, Lady Sparkle. That’s my cue to meet up with Blaze and Rowan to get out of this damned pla-- “Are you coming or not?” “AAH!” Cloudlight jumped as the unicorn suddenly appeared from beyond the threshold, perfectly alive and looking at him quizzically. “How did--!? How are you--!? You’re not--!” “It’s perfectly safe,” Twilight chirped with a smile. “Come on. I need a second opinion.” “But but but--...” stammered the pegasus as the lavender pony reentered the room. After a few blinks in confusion, the pegasus sighed and followed after her. This can’t end well. Just like the last time he had been in this room, there was the crater that once held the stone orb and, above it, the frighteningly malignant and thunderous sight of the purple light, the shadows dancing along the corona. Twilight sat a good distance away, peering at the anomaly with a studious look. With a wary pace, Cloudlight fell in behind her. “So, Ms. Crazy-Know-it-All, what in Tartarus is it?” “I have no idea,” the unicorn answered, chewing on her lip thoughtfully. “It’s not giving off any kind of harmful magic that I can tell, so it’s not a trap of any description, so that rules out my theory about it being a protective measure for the Ele--whatever was kept here.” “Something was kept here?” Cloudlight asked. Twilight looked back at him and hesitated. The less he knows, the better. I’m still not sure if he’s just a looter attracted by the castle’s history. “If the large stone pedestal and the general location of the room is any indication, yes,” she lied. “Anyway, it’s still a mystery.” The unicorn tilted her head at Cloudlight. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about magic, would you? A second educated opinion would be much appreciated.” “Um...” That’s a good question, actually... he thought. Cloudlight couldn’t remember if he had any education, much less in magic. He quickly sifted through his bank of knowledge, trying to collect his overall understanding of magic or anything related. When he found nothing more than ‘unicorns use it to do stuff’ and ‘glowy energy,’ he shrugged. “I don’t really--” the pegasus began, but then paused as he had a thought. “Actually, I think I might know a thing or two.” As Twilight gave him a skeptical look, Cloudlight reached out into the mental link to Rowan and Blaze. “Blaze, I’m gonna need some help with something,” he relayed quickly. “How much do you know about magic?” “I’m not wholly sure,” the ashen unicorn responded. “What for?” “Standby. I’m going to pass on a few observations of mine. I need your best input.” Cloudlight wasn’t entirely sure if his idea was going to work, but it was worth a shot. “Oh really?” said Twilight doubtfully. She didn’t mark the somewhat-lackwit stallion as a pony of magical knowledge, especially given that he was a pegasus. “Just as a test, what’s the basic formula for magical energy needed to translocate an object?” Cloudlight was silent for a few moments. “One-half the distance traveled times the square of the object’s aural mass.” Twilight blinked in surprise. Auras are a bit of an older concept, although... “Well, I guess you can be of use after all. So what’s your initial hypothesis on this anomaly.” Turning to face the thundering purple light, there was an even greater pause as he stared at it. He grimaced a few times for some unseen reason, but eventually nodded. “Maybe...judging by the...uh...consistency of the after-effect’s volatility, its...um...mana-pressure is mostly balanced.” “Very educated conclusion, but...” Twilight bit her lip as she analyzed the stallion’s words. “Mana hasn’t been used a reference unit in over fifteen hundred years. I mean, I can always convert to thaums in my head, but whoever taught you what you know is far outdated.” Maybe that’s why he’s using the mana system instead of the modern adaptation.” “Or is older than he looks,” frowned Cloudlight. “Why are you using ancient units again, Blaze?” “I don’t have a sodding clue what a ‘thaum’ is,” Blaze barked back. “We’ll worry about my overdue magic knowledge later, when time and circumstances permit.” “A lot about us doesn’t make sense,” stated Rowan. “Anything else?” Twilight prompted, starting to drift into her own thoughts as Cloudlight’s input became less helpful. “No, I...” Cloudlight looked at the terrifying anomaly again. Somehow, it looked...different this time. The pegasus blinked, shook his head, and looked again. No, there was something definitely changed about it. It’s like... he thought, squinting at the center of the light. ...like some kind of...piece...a part of something bigger... Suddenly, he began to see more even pieces in his mind’s eye: the shattered fragments of the stone orb, the pedestal in the room, the castle as a whole, and finally, his own hoof. They floated around in his head as concepts; ideas of the objects that represented their significance. Gradually--though no more than a second had passed--the pieces slid neatly into their places of a complete whole, a string of concepts of things that had a cause and effect. In that moment, Cloudlight saw the entire finished puzzle in his head. It felt so obvious to him now... He had worked out the solution. What if the huge light and noise aren’t an after-effect? He asked himself. What if...the purpose of the spell is exactly that? To make a lot of noise and noticeable sights? In a eureka moment, Cloudlight’s sky-blue eyes became wide with revelation. “It’s an alarm!” “Say what now?” Twilight asked. “Say what now?” Blaze and Rowan asked, hearing his exclamation through the link. “The whole purpose of the thing is to alert ponies to a threat to the important objects you talked about, like, say, if somepony accidentally knocked the big stone thing over. This noise and light is visible all across the castle, so somepony would be sure to investigate and make sure the objects are safe. Why it’s so creepy is beyond me, but it definitely caught our attention, huh?” “Wow. That’s quite impressive, Cloudlight,” Rowan commented. “Thanks,” Cloudlight responded. Then something occurred to him. “Hey, where are you guys? I thought you were coming to get me.” Blaze hummed in amusement. “You’re as brilliant as you are gullible.” “Yes, yes...” Twilight nodded, taking in Cloudlight’s words. “That...makes sense. If it was some kind of trap, it would run the risk of damaging the artifacts because of the unreliability of autonomous thaumic focusing systems.” “Unless the magic trap was adjusted to focus on biological arcanum, rather than this ‘thaum’ unit she--” “Blaze, you can stop now,” Cloudlight urged. “You’re giving me a headache.” For a few moments, Twilight and Cloudlight stared at the anomaly. Despite their newfound knowledge, the noise and light continued to rage on unabated. “Now the only question is how do we stop it?” Twilight wondered out loud with a frown “You’re kidding, right?” Cloudlight asked, a little disbelieving. “I thought you were a magical expert.” “I am, yes, but to find out how to terminate the spell’s process, I’d need to know how the spell is built,” Twilight stated. “If we had the scroll or book the spell was written in, it would be no problem at all. Perhaps if I could perform a thorough examination of the spell’s ongoing matrix, I could find the termination system and--” “Stand away!” The unicorn and pegasus, wrapped in their thoughts, barely had two seconds to react to the sudden bark of command. When they did process the order, the two ponies dodged to opposite sides, scarcely escaping a speeding projectile, wreathed in a head-sized orb of orange-and-white flames, that flew between them toward the magical alarm’s epicenter. Upon making impact with the thundering singularity, the fireball detonated, consuming a small area of the room in billowing fire and bathing Cloudlight and Twilight in heat. When the explosion subsided, nothing remained but a patch of scorched cobblestone. The alarm spell was nowhere to be seen or heard. “Well...” Blaze purred with the barest hint of a triumphant smile on his face and a trail of gray smoke guiltily rising off the tip of his horn. “Obstructing the manaflow of the spell with another form of energy, say, an explosion, exhausts the matrix’s aura, thus cancelling the effect,” the deminuative unicorn said dryly, turning his ruby eyes toward Twilight. “What can your ‘thaum’ do, hmm?” “Blaze,” Rowan’s boisterous mind scolded. “There is no need to be impolite.” Twilight simply stared, wide-eyed, at the newly-arrived unicorn. The unicorn scholar had never seen magic used in such a way. It was mind-boggling for her. Igniting something flammable with magic is one thing, Twilight thought, but creating fire from nothing to use as a projectile should be impossible! To date, only dragons have been able to control fire, but never on that sort of level! Just as Twilight was about to recover and launch a series of questions at the stallion, she caught a glimpse of something else. What is...? Cloudlight, on the other hoof, was less than awestruck at the ashen unicorn’s spectacle. “What in Tartarus was that!?” the pegasus growled, flaring his massive wings in anger. The great white appendages made him look several times larger. In the room, a small breeze picked up, stirring the dust from the floor. “You nearly killed us, you lunatic!” “But I didn’t,” Blaze pointed out calmly across the mental link, unfazed by Cloudlight’s threatening stance despite his smaller body. “Besides, I gave you a warning, did I not?” “You call that a warning!? You barely gave us any time at all!” retorted the fuming pegasu, this time across the link as well. “Rowan, back me up here!” “That’s why I’m down here,” the massive green pony said. “I would not have any part of this interruptive idea of his.” “See? You’re the only one who thinks that was a good idea.” Cloudlight gave a victorious smirk. Blaze shook his head. “A majority does not mean you are correct,” he retaliated. “If three of four ponies said turtles could fly, would that make them any less of fools?” “Hey, who are you calling a--?” “Who are you?” At the sound of the vocal question, the two arguing stallions turned to look at Twilight. The lavender mare was glancing between them, paying special attention to their flanks, now that Cloudlight’s was no longer hidden by his wings and Blaze was now generally present. “Why...what is that symbol on your cutie marks?” Her purple eyes met theirs, heavy with surprise. “Why do you both have the mark of the Trinity?” All three stallions were stunned. “The what?”