“I want the entire castle secured! Check every room and hall and, if something seems suspicious, report it right away. Understood?”
“Yes, sir!” the garrison of guards choired back, splitting into their respective squadrons.
On any other day (or night, in this case), Shining would’ve suppressed a smirk as he watched the dozens of ponies wordlessly carry out his command. He loved commanding his troops; though, it wasn’t for the feeling of power. Rather, he thoroughly enjoyed his profession. This night, however, he didn’t, simply because there was none to suppress. The Prince of the Crystal Empire had already been distressed by the infiltration of a shape shifter, one apparently skilled in chaos magic, and now there was the earthquake.
An earthquake was nonsensical on its own—the Crystal Empire’s location had a notorious lack of history of earthquakes—and Shining would’ve been willing to pass it off as an odd episode if not for the coinciding with this Ryan’s appearance. If there was something he’d learned in his years of service to the Royal Guard, it would be to trust in his gut feeling, and now it was telling him that there wasn’t such a thing as coincidence on this scale. Although the event only happened a mere hour ago, experts’ reports were already streaming in that told that the epicenter was none other than the castle itself. Just more fuel to the fires of caution.
Satisfied in his troops’ orders, Shining set a regal stride down the active halls. Turning through the series of interconnected rooms of the castle, he made his way down to a usually empty section—the cell block. Outside the entrance to the confinement area, he met one familiar pink alicorn. “Cadence?” he hailed, “How’s she been?”
Cadence looked his way with a thoughtful frown. “Well, she was bawling her eyes out for a while, but now she’s just gone silent…” She shook her head, “Ugh, I knew she seemed odd. This shouldn’t have happened.”
“Hey,” he said, putting a hoof on her shoulder, “Better we catch her instead of letting her go free to do Celestia-knows-what.” She just sighed, not meeting his gaze. Lip curling into a curious expression, he asked, “Have you tried talking to her? After she quieted down?”
She shook her head. “No. I’m no interrogator.”
Shining lifted up her chin, making eye contact between them. “Is something bothering you?” he asked softly, “I know this is all a big nightmare right now, but—”
“Earlier, I realized something,” she interjected. Her breath came out before she continued, “Remember how she convinced me to let her in? What she said?”
He nodded. “Yeah, she said yours and Twilight’s saying…” His eyes widened.
“That’s right,” she affirmed, “How did she know that phrase? Only Twilight and I know what it means to us and…” She trailed off, not needing to say the implication. She didn’t want to say it.
Shining stood stock-still for a moment as the words sank in. With an intake of hushed breath, he said, “I’m sure she’s fine, Cadence. She can handle herself.”
“But that doesn’t answer my question,” she insisted, “She had to know somehow.”
“I know. But I’m sure she’s fine,” he answered, speaking to himself just as much, “We can send a courier to—”
“Already did,” she interrupted, her eyes gazing to him in half-lidded anxiousness.
With a pause, he replied, “…Alright. Then the most we can do is keep a level head and look forwards. Stay optimistic.” He looked to the door separating the castle from the cells. “I’m going to try talking to her. See if we can get some answers.” Agreeing, Cadence stepped aside, swinging the door open for him. He gave her one last passing glance before stepping through.
Finding the occupied cell was simple enough for Shining—the guards had thrown the prisoner into the first available opening, which happened to be a mere one cell down the line. He came to a halt at the seeing the lying figure rested across the hard floor, still in her bipedal form. Shape shifters came in any possible form, some even as a dragon, but they usually took one that would actually blend in, not this two-legged, upright creature. Observations aside, he spoke first, knowing she wouldn’t: “You’ve caused quite the hassle tonight, and that’s put me into a less-than-stellar mode, so I’m going to skip the pleasantries… Who are you? Ryan?”
Ryan didn’t answer, much less react. Her glazed over eyes kept a lazy stare towards the low ceiling of her barred-in cube of space, only blinking when they commanded it. There was no indication she had even heard him.
“Why were you trying to get past those doors?” Shining questioned, trying again, “Was it just you or were you working for someone else?”
Nothing.
A scowl playing across his face, Shining stamped his hoof to the floor, emitting an echoing thud. “Look at me,” he commanded, his voice hardened. Seeing she, of course, did not, he lowered his own glare directly to her. “You know,” he started again, “That phrase you said to my wife to get in here is a very personal thing between her and my sister. We would appreciate—” He ground out the word through his teeth. “—it if you told us how you—”
“She’s fine,” Ryan’s voice whispered out, piercing the silence greater than any strict command the prince could have uttered. “I swear on my life Twilight’s fine. Now go away.”
Shining stared out at her, his outward expression as unchanged as ever. Then, without a word, he turned and left.
“That was fast,” Cadence commented, seeing him walk back through the doorframe.
“She wasn’t feeling talkative… And I’m also not an interrogator…” he replied, setting himself down in a chair, “She did swear to me that Twily’s fine… Though, her honesty streak’s been dubious as of late.”
“Hey,” she answered with a gentle smile, “You were the one that said to stay optimistic, right?”
Seeing his wife’s hint of teasing, he couldn’t help but let a brief laugh fly. “That I did,” he answered, “That I did…”
Any further lighthearted banter was cut off, however, as a guard burst into the room, stumbling through the entryway. Quickly righting himself after a formal bow, he said, “Your highness! …es. The Princesses have arrived to see you both.”
The royal couple shared an alarmed glance. Things were escalating, they realized, possibly more than they could have expected if their fellow rulers were coming all the way out here.
“You said princesses,” Shining pointed out, “Which ones?”
The guard swallowed before answering, “All of them.”
Two sets of eyes widened. “Including Princess Twilight?” he questioned.
The guard nodded. “She arrived about ten minutes after Princess Celestia did along with Princess Luna. They all claimed to have come because of the earthquake and were needing to speak to you two.”
“Bring them in,” Shining ordered, then turning to his wife as the guard scrambled back the way he came. “She’s fine,” he said, failing to suppress his grin.
“Told you,” she teased back.
“Heh, yeah.” His brow furrowed. “Wait, didn’t I tell you first?” He only got an innocent shrug in response which he promptly rolled his eyes at.
The two snapped back to attention as the sound of hoofsteps emanated, growing louder as they approached. Unlike the guard’s only moments ago, there were multiple sets. As the volume reached its climax, in stepped the guard, followed by a tall alicorn possessing a regal, white coat and a rainbow, flowing mane. Behind her was the younger sister, her appearance a near-complete opposite as her dark coat and matching mane displayed; unlike the previous one’s formal vibe, she looked thoroughly dissatisfied with the entire prospect of being here. Finally, the youngest and smallest of the three appeared lavender-coated last in the procession, her eyes flickering about in anxiousness. Of the three, Shining and Cadence perked up the most at seeing her. Though, they both withheld any major greeting, knowing the atmosphere was far too thick for it. Shining dismissed the guard, leaving the royalty to themselves.
“I wish we could’ve met under better circumstances,” Celestia started, breaking the silence. A small mumble of agreement answered her, not one voice sticking out from the rest.
“I assume you’re all here because of the earthquake?” Shining inquired.
“That’s a part of it.”
Cadence cocked her head. “What else brings you all by, then?” she asked, looking at each of them in turn.
“That’s the entrance to the cell block, yes?” Celestia answered again, limply pointing her hoof forwards. At Cadence’s confused nod, she added, “Would there happen to be a bipedal, hairless creature in there?” The sudden surprise that flashed across the couple’s faces told her all she needed. “I knew it couldn’t be a coincidence…” she muttered aloud, drawing a glare from her nightly sister. Twilight averted her gaze, biting her lip.
“You already knew about the shape shifter?” Shining asked, befuddlement evident in his voice.
Said befuddlement spread to the three newcomers at his words. “Shape shifter?” Twilight answered first, using a question, “She can’t shape shift.”
Shining shook his head. “She was a pony for a while, using the form to get in. I saw her transform back right in front of me.” Affirming his account, Cadence nodded in agreement.
As Luna and Twilight shared a look, trying to find an answer in each other’s eyes, Celestia merely opted for the direct approach. “To get in…?” she repeated, “Would you two tell us a full account of what happened tonight? I don’t believe we’re on the same page.”
“Of course,” he answered. Gesturing for Cadence to start her portion, she complied, telling of her encounter and entry with “Silverbolt,” drawing a startled expression out of Twilight. It soon transitioned to Shining as he recounted the confrontation with Ryan, her failure and escorting out, and the freak earthquake shortly thereafter. The listening trio paid close attention, only giving subtle hints of concern or wonder at key moments.
“After I ‘talked’ to her, you three showed up, which is all that’s happened so far,” Shining finished.
A brief silenced loomed as the tales were left to sink in until Celestia asked, “Did either of you check on the gate?”
“Yes, I did,” Shining answered, “It’s just as is, completely inactive.” He paused as he watched a breath of relief come from the goddess. “That’s our side of the story, but I don’t think that’s it in its entirety. You already knew about the shape shifter, so I’m assuming you all already know something else about what’s going on?”
“Yeah,” Twilight answered, “Firstly, she’s not a shape shifter and she can’t perform magic, much less chaos magic. I have a… suspicion on how she accomplished all that.”
“Discord?”
She nodded guiltily. “Though, if he really wanted to get her home, he would’ve unlocked the door. With all that he seemed to do for her, it wouldn’t make sense for him to make such an obvious oversight.” She put on a thinking face. “I’ll have to talk to him later, assuming he really is responsible. Raising her hopes just to let them crumble is just plain cruel.”
“Indeed,” Luna piped in, speaking for the first time since arriving. With a none-too-subtle sneer, she added, “Wouldn’t you agree that is downright cruel, sister?”
“Yes,” Celestia replied coolly, staring right back at her, “I couldn’t agree more.”
Shining and Cadence looked on curiously before sharing a mutual glance that read “Something’s going on.”
Twilight rushed to fill the growing awkward silence, saying, “What about that earthquake? Do you two know what caused it?”
Surprisingly, it was Luna who answered, looking away from her sister. “If it is Discord who helped Ryan, as you suggested, then we may already have our answer.” The lavender mare nodded back simply. “Now,” Luna continued, “Would you bringing your brother and sister-in-law up-to-date on recent events? I believe you are the most qualified to do so as you were present much of the time.”
“Actually,” Cadence interjected, “Could Twilight, Shining, and I have a moment to ourselves?”
“Of course,” Luna quickly answered, “I believe that would be for the best.”
“Thank you.” She gestured for the two to follow her, transitioning into the dusty office connected to the cell block. She closed the door behind her, leaving behind the sun and moon.
“Cadence, what is—” Twilight asked before being pulled into a warm and altogether too tight embrace. “Cadence?” she squeaked out as her breathing became restrained.
With a laugh, the pink-coated alicorn stepped back, letting Twilight gasp for air. “Sorry,” she said, “We were just worried about you for a bit is all. Right, Shining?” He nodded.
“What? Worried?” Twilight replied on the exhale, “Why?”
“Just when Ryan said yours and Cadence’s phrase, we didn’t know how she knew about it,” Shining explained.
Twilight blinked. “Oh. Uh, well, I’m fine… Heh…” She awkwardly ran her hoof through her mane. The two others just chuckled. “So, you two want to know what’s going on?”
“Yes, please,” Cadence answered, putting on her mask of seriousness for the situation once again, “But could you start with Celestia and Luna, if you know? There’s something going on between them.”
Twilight looked down for a moment. “Yeah… You’ll know why soon enough, but… simply put, they’re fighting.” The two remained silent so she could continue, but they each did so with an intrigued gleam in their demeanor. “Luna and I arrived shortly after Celestia,” Twilight said, “When the two saw each other, they were okay at first, but it just went and deteriorated quickly. They didn’t argue, but the tension and snide remarks to each other were there.”
“Oh, I’m sorry you had to see that, Twilight,” Cadence lamented, but Twilight just waved her off.
“It’s fine. Everypony argues, even with their sibling. Shining and I sure know that,” she added as a weak smile danced upon her lips.
Her brother, however, raised an eyebrow. The sister he knew wouldn’t have taken seeing her mentor angry so easily, especially not this dismissively. She’s really growing up, he thought with the effect making himself feel old.
“Now then,” Twilight said, dropping into a neutral expression once again, “This may take a bit to explain, but here’s what’s going on…”
The royal sisters stood apart, neither one of them acknowledging the other goddess in the room. Each’s eyes meandered about the room aimlessly, occasionally settling on random details of the room ranging from the simple, reinforced door leading to the cell block to the sprawling cobwebs that portrayed an embroidery across the ceiling. One such detail happened to be the single chair in the room, left unoccupied by Shining’s departure.
Luna found herself staring at the seat, thinking about how little she’d gotten to relax that day and taking an unnoticed step toward it. Celestia, however, did take notice. “Go on,” she said disinterestedly, “The seat’s open.”
Snapping back to attention at the words, Luna scowled. “No, you take it,” she countered, “I imagine you’ve had a rough day.”
Celestia turned to regard her. “No, I insist,” she deadpanned, “It is simply the polite thing to do.”
“Exactly,” the lunar alicorn protested, “That is why I am offering it to you.”
The elder of the two sisters paused. “I’m not going to sit down, Luna.”
“Neither am I, Celestia,” she replied, simply put.
They both stared at each other, firing an arsenal of glaring daggers at each other. Neither of them would make the move lest they admit defeat.
Finally, Celestia spoke, “You know, Luna, this only proves my point.”
Luna narrowed her gaze. She knew exactly what her sister was referring to. Gone was the humbled face from earlier, replaced by the confident leader of their kingdom once again. “It does no such thing,” she shot back.
“On the contrary, it does,” she said simply, “If she was willing to open that gate, knowing full well the consequences it would have on the innocent ponies here—”
“Save it,” Luna interrupted, “What she did was react to the corner you pushed her into. Do you know what happens when you corner an animal? It strikes out, knowing full well it may cost it its life.”
Celestia responded, “She could have talked to me. I would have listened.”
“Talk to you?!” Luna nearly yelled, “This coming from the pony who said, and I quote, ‘There is nothing more to discuss.’” Her indignant hoof stamped the floor.
The solar alicorn’s blank faced betrayed a small scowl. “Fine. I admit I may have cut her off. But that does not change the fact that she attempted what she did. After our talk, Luna, I was actually rethinking everything. I actually toyed with the idea of opening the gate with extreme precaution like you suggested.”
“But what?” Luna prompted, driving back her own hard stare.
Celestia’s brow furrowed as she repeated back, “But what?”
“Yes,” she elaborated, “But what? What’s stopping you from doing that now?”
“Oh…” Through a lack of foresight, she hadn’t realized how expected it was that that question would have been asked; she didn’t have an answer, and it was obvious to both parties.
Luna took the opportunity first. “Would it be because you feel she’s below you? You said it yourself; this all proves your point. Just what is your point?”
“That is not true,” she hissed back, “I am not prejudiced.”
“I didn’t accuse you of being prejudiced,” she commented, casually holding out her hoof to inspect it. She twisted it to different viewing angles, ignoring the other’s scowl.
“It was clearly implied,” she defended, “And my point was that she can’t be trusted. Just look what she tried to do in a mere number of hours since I first talked to her.”
“Which you provoked,” Luna retorted, making eye contact again, “We’ve already been through this. Yes, she completely disregarded the safety of our subjects, but why would she care? They aren’t her subjects. They’re—we’re—literally aliens to her.”
Her vision drifting to the shut cell door, Celestia remarked, “I would expect any being with a sense of morality to realize what their actions would cost others, especially when entire peoples would be affected.”
“Not all of us can be as farsighted as you, Celestia.”
With that, the power slumped from the solar alicorn’s shoulders. Darning a distant gaze, she looked miles away to her sister, who was faced away from her, a neutral line drawn across her features. Helplessly raising her hoof a minor span toward her sister, she began, “Luna—”
“I know it’s a lot to take in, but…” Twilight said as she reentered the room, trailing off as she saw the deadlock between the two sisters. Following behind, Shining and Cadence took a similar course of action. “Um… Everything fine?” she asked, knowing full well everything was not okay, but asking out of politeness.
“Yes, I’m fine, thank you for asking,” Luna replied, actually sounding honest in her words, “I take it that they’ve been brought up to speed?”
“Yeah,” she confirmed, nodding slowly. The room’s atmosphere grew quiet with the faint, fading echo of the single word. Twilight looked back to her brother and sister-in-law, flicking her ear towards the sisters. Reluctantly tearing her focus away from the two, Cadence shot a concerned look back, scrunching her muzzle to the side; Shining only coughed, earning him a raised-eyebrow expression from both mares. He grinned goofily, awkwardly taking a step back. “Well,” Twilight said, hushed despite everyone being able to hear nonetheless, “Ryan’s in there?”
“Yeah,” he said, “One of the first cells down.”
Cell… Twilight thought, none-too-pleased with the idea. “Thanks. If none of you mind, I’m going to talk to her,” she replied, lightly knocking her hoof against the closed door a few times.
“You need help with that?” Shining offered.
“Huh?” she reacted confusedly, “Uh, no thanks. I’ll be fine. …Thanks, though.” He simply nodded. Twilight took a brief gander about the room, looking for dissent but found none. With a nod, she magicked open the door, stepping through, and promptly setting it shut behind her, the whole process making no unnecessary sound.
As Twilight’s hooves made hooffalls down the hall, her eyes searched incessantly through the cells at her sides. Whether it be cell block, dungeon, or jailhouse, the young alicorn had never actually been inside of such an institution. As if finding a fascination in the darkened space, her curious mind nabbed at every detail it could—the sturdy bars, simple and effective at keeping one locked away; the minimalist layout, only the bare essentials decorating the cubicle rooms; the distinct lack of occupants.
She didn’t like it. Not at all.
As her mind poured continuous details into her awareness, the bitter distaste she had only grew in proportion. What a terrible place to be, she could only think, which just reminded her of her purpose in being there. Poor Ryan… She doesn’t deserve to be in this hole. Sure, she tried to get the gate open, but…
Her thoughts were cut off as her entire attention was forced to the human, herself, just a cell down like Shining said. Twilight nearly gasped at the sight before her; the woman was sprawled across the floor, silent and unmoving save for the slow rise and fall of her breathing. She’d seen Ryan like this before, back after her outburst at Celestia’s departure, but now it there was no remaining liveliness in her. She lay on the floor, the fiery determination that commonly graced her eyes having burned itself into ashes.
The sight, however, did not dampen Twilight’s spirit. Rather, it elevated. Twilight Sparkle was the first, last, and only Princess of Friendship, and she would be damned to Tartarus if she couldn’t help the one who needed it the most. With a steeled, unbreakable confidence forged inside of her, she spoke out through the silence.
“Ryan?”