Somewhere on the outskirts of Vanhoover
April 31, 10:55 PM
For the rest of his life, Sky swore he would never complain again, just as long as he didn’t have to do that again.
He fell out of the portal exit into a crumpled heap, feeling as nauseous as a windigo that was allergic to the cold. A moment later, Nighthawk dropped to the floor beside him, his eyes rolling around like marbles in a jar. Yeah, that about sums it up.
Discord stepped out of the portal, standing upright and strolling ahead of the pegasi. He turned back after a few paces, leaned down to where they lay prone on the floor, and bared a toothy smile. “Well, here we are,” he chuckled. “Enjoy the ride?”
Beside him, Sky heard Nighthawk groan in answer. He struggled to get his own legs under him as he rose to his hooves. He felt as wobbly as one of Pinkie’s jolly gelatin towers, but he finally managed to steady himself. “Discord…let me be perfectly honest: that was the hooves-down the worst trip I’ve ever taken. What the hay was that?”
“That, my dear boy,” Discord said, “is merely my mode of transportation. The chaos vortex, if you will.”
A sound like a gag came from Nighthawk. “Vortex is right,” he moaned.
Discord snorted in amusement. “If you travel with the god of chaos, you had best be prepared for everything that comes with it.”
Sky’s mind was a mess of nausea, vertigo, and a host of other maladies as a result of the passage through Discord’s corridor of mayhem. It had been a tunnel of absolute madness, where nothing made sense: and not just in what you could see and feel. Everything about it had messed with his head. It was confusing, disorienting…if this was Discord’s primary method of getting around, Sky could understand why the guy seemed so…insane.
As the last tendrils of disorientation fell from him, Sky took a moment to observe his surroundings. He found himself standing in a tall, open hallway. The floors beneath his hooves were of richly polished wood, which extended halfway up the walls. Above the wood paneling, a series of formal paintings (which resembled solo family portraits) stretched down both sides of the hall. Two rows of torches lined the corridor: one at head height, and another at the level of the pictures. It reminded Sky a bit of Canterlot Castle, with the high ceiling and numerous torches. But despite the numerous light sources, he couldn’t help but notice how much darker it felt in here. The light didn’t seem to reach nearly as far as it did in Canterlot. Maybe it was just the dark color of the wood. Maybe it was the fact that it was the dead of night. Maybe it was the distinct lack of windows.
A shiver ran down his spine. Even his body knew that there was something was off about this place, and it was definitely more than the décor. And in the back of his mind, a voice seemed to whisper: No. Please, no.
Sky turned around and saw Nighthawk on his hooves, wobbly though he was. His wings still sagged at his sides, but they didn’t seem to hang so low, like they were recovering from the stun bolt. “So,” Nighthawk grunted, looking up at Discord, “where are we?”
“This is an old building on the outskirts of Vanhoover,” Discord explained. “I think you’ll be quite intrigued by what you find here.” His eyes fixed on the blue pegasus. “Especially you, Sky Streak.”
Sky arched an eyebrow. It wasn’t just that Discord seemed to think that this place had some sort of special meaning for him, but also that he had apparently kept his word: granted, they were half a continent away from Canterlot, but from all appearances, Discord was convinced that something here would be key to their quest. He didn’t know which was more surprising.
“And why’s that?” Sky asked.
“You’ll see,” came Discord’s cryptic response. The draconequus strolled past him and down the hallway, seemingly lost in the pictures lining the walls. “Just have a look around. You’ll see what I mean.” He waved dismissively as he rounded a corner.
Sky continued to stare down the hallway. Nighthawk came up beside him, still looking a bit green. “So…what exactly are we *urp* looking for?”
“I’m not sure,” Sky admitted. “But we’re not going to figure that out just standing here. Discord brought us out here—”
“And I’d rather not rely on him to take us anywhere again,” Nighthawk interjected.
“No joke,” Sky agreed. “But I don’t think he’s going to tell us what we’re supposed to find so easily. He just can’t make it easy on us.”
“Maybe,” Nighthawk said, observing the portraits on the walls, “but I think he wants us to form an objective opinion of the information. You heard him; he said that we’d be better at interpreting what was here. He probably wants us to do just that.”
For the first time since the battle, Sky felt thankful that Nighthawk was with him. Having cleared the air about his envy and jealousy, he seemed like a different pony. He was a friend; not a stern taskmaster. He was smarter and wiser than Sky was, and that was certainly a valuable asset. Not to mention his ability to remain even-tempered in even the most trying circumstances—quite the opposite of Sky.
“Where do you suggest going first, then?” Sky asked.
“Like I’ve ever been here before,” Nighthawk quipped, and he suddenly looked much more himself. “Let’s just follow this hallway and see where it leads.”
“Alright, but stay on guard. I don’t wanna have to save you from a booby trap because you were careless.”
“Oh, I’ll go plenty slow. I don’t want you falling behind, carrying that huge ego and all.”
Sky laughed, then was struck by the realization that it had been a long time since he had laughed at all. It felt…comforting. Cathartic. In spite of the circumstances, he felt refreshed. He wasn’t perfect, but the darkness that had been stirring in his heart for days subsided, leaving him feeling much more like himself than he had felt since Lily’s accident.
Maybe I can finally live like she’d want me to.
“Hey,” Nighthawk said suddenly, staring down at Sky’s hooves, “you’re wearing a shooter. Didn’t you tell me that they were all destroyed in the explosion at the HQ?”
Sky looked down at the polished chrome shooter around his right leg. “Well, that was mostly true. All but one, to be honest. This is the one Hobo’s been working on for weeks.”
“That one was just straight-up broken,” Nighthawk replied. “The others were at least in semi-working condition, but that one wasn’t even usable. Why do you have it now?”
A tired smile came to Sky’s face. “Because we fixed it.”
Nighthawk’s eyebrow rose. “‘We’ fixed it?”
“Hobo, Ace, and myself. It works just fine now. Your drooping wings are proof of that.”
Nighthawk flexed one of his wings. It bent back and forth obediently, if not a bit sluggishly. “Yeah, I was wondering about that. Feels like a stun bolt.” Seeing the affirmative nod from Sky, he continued. “So, how’d you fix it?”
“It was Ace’s idea,” Sky explained. “And we should have thought of it long before now. For the longest time, we had been using the shooters as physical devices, so we implemented them with physical triggers. But the thing that makes the Alicorn Guard so special is that we can all use magic. So why not give them magical triggers? That way, we could fire them independently of physical motion. That solves the jamming problem, but it also lets us tune each shooter to individual ponies so that only they can fire them.”
“That sounds familiar,” Nighthawk mumbled. “Didn’t you explain your camoufly cloak the same way?”
“It’s the same principle, yes,” Sky nodded. “That’s what gave Ace the idea. And it worked, too. Sure surprised you when it actually fired while we were fighting.”
“I’ll bet.”
The pair of pegasi wandered along the hallway, poking their heads into rooms on either side of the corridor. They quickly realized that this was a large house, but it was built like a cathedral. The ceiling stood ridiculously high, allowing the doorways to stretch up into an arch. And in spite of the vast amount of wall space, Sky was struck by the distinct lack of windows in the house. They were rare, and even when there was one, it was high above the floor, so that no one on ground level could see in…or out.
“I don’t like this,” Nighthawk commented, peeking in another dimly-lit room. “All the light in here comes from within. Almost no windows, and even those few are small and out of the way. It’s like whoever lived here didn’t want anypony to know what was going on in here.”
They rounded a corner, and Sky caught sight of a large, book-filled room on his left. “Somehow, I bet you’re right,” he agreed, peering into the room. “I wonder what’s in here.”
Nighthawk glanced over Sky’s shoulder as the latter entered. “A library?” he asked.
“Sure looks like it,” Sky confirmed. His eyes roamed around the room, taking in the scene. The room was long, extending along what might have been an entire side of the house. It held an immense collection of books, with packed shelves lining every wall just short of the ceiling. There was a lone window high on the far wall, with a large pedestal placed in front of it, presumably with the intention of having the light shine down on it. That’s a bit cliché for me, but I’m willing to be that whatever’s on that pedestal is important.
As Sky approached, his vision settled on the scene beyond the podium: a large plush chair, and in it sat none other than a comfort robe-wearing, bespectacled, pipe-smoking god of chaos, intently reading a book with the words “A Treatise on the Nature of Magic” printed on the cover.
Discord looked over the rim of his glasses as Sky advanced. “Quite a collection, isn’t it?” he said, gesturing around the room with a free claw. “I’d wager that the information available in this room would rival most other libraries in Equestria…perhaps even Canterlot’s own royal library.”
“I’d doubt that,” Nighthawk replied, walking beside the shelves and reading the spines of numerous tomes. “Celestia has the accumulated knowledge of at least one thousand years of study and research in that library.”
Discord smirked knowingly. “And who’s to say that this place doesn’t as well?”
Sky spun on the spot and looked Discord straight in the eye. “What?!”
“That’s impossible,” Nighthawk countered. “Even if such a place existed, it would have been recognized long ago by Celestia. She would have opened it up as a center for knowledge and study.”
“That’s true,” Discord admitted. “At least, it would be, if the great Celestia had known about it.”
The gears in Sky’s head began to turn. “Wait a minute…” The small windows; their scarcity and out-of-the-way placing…the darkness of the building…the secluded feel of the whole area…
The evidence began to assemble into an idea. “No one was supposed to know about this place. That’s why everything is so dark and hidden. Almost no windows, and even those few are really high up. Whoever lived here didn’t want anyone to know what was here.”
“Right you are!” Discord confirmed, rising from his seat, his scholarly attire vanishing in a puff of smoke. “It’s a total secret to anyone that’s never been inside.” He clasped his claws behind his back as he began to pace back and forth beside the podium. “Which is basically everypony in Equestria.”
“And just how did you find out about it?” Nighthawk asked.
The snap of Discord’s talons was all the warning Sky had. His vision suddenly exploded in a blinding white cloud. But in the next instant, the room had returned to…mostly normal. He and Nighthawk now sat in schoolhouse desks (which felt just a bit too small for him), with a projector sitting between them. Discord stood before them, the dropdown projector screen to his left. He smiled confidently for a moment, then furrowed his brow in confusion. “Hmmm, something’s not quite right…”
Sky squirmed in his seat. “Uh, is all this necessary?”
“Just a minute,” Discord replied, apparently lost in thought. He scanned the room for a moment, looking distressed. Then, with a flash of comprehension, he snapped his talons yet again, and a slender chain of beads appeared in the air to his right. With a simple gesture, he reached up and gave it a tug. Instantly, the room darkened and the projector hummed and rose to life. “Much better.”
“Great,” Nighthawk grunted, apparently upset about the shortcomings of his own seat. “Can we get on with this?”
“Of course,” Discord replied, turning to the image that appeared on his left. He began to narrate as the pictures clicked by. “In all honesty, I was in Vanhoover not long ago, and I was taking a leisurely stroll on this side of the city, just minding my own business,” he began, smacking a pointer against the screen.
Vanhoover?
Sky was instantly wary of whatever Discord meant by “business,” but he let it pass without interruption. Discord rapped his pointer against the next picture, which showed Discord looking at a suspiciously normal-appearing house. “I came across this building, which, mind you, is quite unimpressive from the outside. Rather humble and simple in appearance. But, being the king of chaos, I knew that it was merely a disguise. The doors were locked, but that normally isn’t a problem for me. However, I was surprised to find that the entire building was locked in a magic seal, which prevents entry of almost any kind, including teleportation.”
Nighthawk whistled. “A complete magic seal? That’s a rare magic. There haven’t been any unicorns within the last hundred years capable of casting that. Until Twilight Sparkle, that is, and even she’s an alicorn now.”
Discord nodded. The next picture appeared, and Sky felt his stomach turn. Beside him, Nighthawk groaned. While it was merely a picture, it was nonetheless a reminder of the nausea-inducing “chaos vortex” that Discord used to get around. “Naturally, that only served to pique my curiosity even further. Not even a magic seal can keep me out when I’m determined, so with a bit of chaos magic, I found myself where you now stand.”
“And you kept this information a secret for how long?” Nighthawk asked. Not even his bright orange fur could hide the shade of green that his skin had changed to.
“I suppose it’s been about two or three months,” Discord answered, twisting his goatee around a talon. “Though it may have been longer.”
“And you just sat on this information for all that time when you knew that we needed it!?” Sky exclaimed, irritated by Discord’s lack of concern.
“I knew no such thing!” he protested, bringing a claw to his chest. “I merely held that information until a time when I believed it would prove useful.”
“It would have been useful when you found it!”
Discord snorted and crossed his arms. “Being a bit hasty with that comment, since you don’t actually even know what the information is.”
Sky could feel the tension building in his nerves, but he took a deep breath, swallowed his pride, and let logic take over. “Alright. What’s this ‘information’ you keep going on about?”
The projector, screen, and desks all disappeared as the lights returned to normal. Discord sauntered up to the pedestal and let his claw slide across it. It looked to be a grand podium; a place where one would give a speech. But as they walked around it, it began to look less like a pedestal and more like a large wooden chest. “Is it safe to open?” Sky asked.
“It was the last time I was here,” Discord answered.
“Not necessarily the most reassuring thing you could have said.”
He tugged at the rim of the lid, and it slowly swung up on its hinge, revealing its contents. “Oh, look, more books,” Sky said, lifting one of the dozens of volumes and giving it a scrutinizing glare. “Not like we don’t have enough of those here.”
“Hang on a second.” Nighthawk handled a book, shuffled through a few more, then glanced up, eyes wandering across the room. “These aren’t just any books. These are journals.”
“So they are,” Discord confirmed. “They’re quite a fascinating read, if you don’t mind the invasion of privacy.”
“I can’t imagine that bothered you,” Sky quipped.
“It certainly didn’t,” the draconequus agreed, “but it hardly matters now. All the ponies that wrote these journals are dead and gone.”
“And how could you possibly know that?” Sky asked.
“From reading, Blitz,” Nighthawk answered. “The dates on the entries are from centuries ago.”
Sky opened the copy on his hoof and flipped through a few pages. It was true: the writings were dated from hundreds of years earlier. Sky whistled softly. He wasn’t sure how these books were even still in existence. By any normal expectations, these books should have disintegrated long ago. Yet here they were, ordinary-looking diaries sitting in a rather ordinary-looking chest in a mostly ordinary-looking house.
He snorted. And when has the term “ordinary-looking” meant anything in Equestria?
Beside him, Nighthawk silently read through an entry. His face was set in deep concentration. “Simply riveting, isn’t it?” Discord said, causing both pegasi to jump, startled from their contemplations.
“Extremely,” Nighthawk managed as his nerves settled. “Listen to some of this. It’s from an entry some four hundred years ago: ‘Sometimes I cannot help but wonder if we are truly capable of performing this task. So often it seems insurmountable to us, who at times appear so inferior to this tyrant. But we cannot surrender, and we dare not give up, for the sake of our ancestor, who bore such unjust shame at her hooves over five hundred years ago. While we wait for an opportunity to strike, we further our knowledge of ancient arcane magic: magic that our enemy has foolishly forbidden. By doing so, she has merely revealed the instrument of her demise. And when our time comes, she shall know the magnitude of her folly, and the overwhelming might of our revenge.’”
“Someone was mad,” Sky deadpanned. But beneath his calm exterior, Sky’s insides twisted in worry. He couldn’t help but think of the Chimera and its unsettling habit of using “we” to reference itself. It had never told him the reason behind it, leaving him with nothing more than a final warning and an ambiguous hint about the future of Equestria. And now, this journal entry, perhaps coincidentally, reminded him again of his three-headed foe.
He gulped nervously. Maybe it’s no coincidence.
“It sure seems that way,” Nighthawk said, interrupting Sky’s train of thought. But as Sky looked at his mentor, he was surprised to find a reassuring smile grinning back at him. “Looks like whoever wrote this didn’t possess the self-control that you did, Blitz.”
Sky turned away, suddenly unable to meet the gaze of the second pegasus. In truth, it hadn’t been his own self-control that had kept him from giving in to his fury. When everything had failed, that one image had shaken him to the core; it had shattered his fury and forced him to face the darkness that threatened to rule him. It confronted him with the truth.
Even so, it hurt like an open wound, and he was not yet ready to speak of the blade that had cut him. “Yeah,” he said, hoping to avoid further discussion of his supposed “self-control.” “So what’s all this about? It sounds like someone was trying to stage a coup, but that was four hundred years ago. Who cares about that now?”
“Ah,” Discord said, lifting a talon and shaking it back and forth, “you’re forgetting that nopony knew of this place for hundreds of years.”
Sky arched an eyebrow. “So?”
“So it stands to reason that if nopony knew of this place, then the coup didn’t happen back then,” Discord explained.
“So the plan fell apart, big deal. That doesn’t explain the significance now.”
“Unless it’s because it wasn’t supposed to happen centuries ago.”
Sky was caught off-guard by the response, but as he worked to grasp what Discord had just told him, Nighthawk began to fill in the gaps. “Sweet Celestia…you mean that this plot has been in the works for hundreds of years?!”
“That…is one serious grudge,” Sky commented, shaking his head in disbelief.
“But why?” Nighthawk asked. “I mean, what’s the point? It only makes sense that they’d be upset at Celestia—they did refer to the tyrant as ‘she’—but what I don’t understand is what they could be upset over. I mean, this is a house. Not a shelter for changelings or any of Equestria’s enemies. Whatever happened must have happened to a pony. But what could she have done? She’s always been fair-minded and just. This makes her sound like she did something awful.”
A shiver ran up and down Sky’s spine as an answer came to him. “Maybe she did.”
The eyes of his partner trained on him. “Explain.”
“This book was written over four hundred years ago,” Sky explained. “And the writer in the journal says that whatever happened was over five hundred years before that. Which makes the initial event…”
“Between nine hundred and one thousand years ago,” Nighthawk finished. Then, realizing what he had said, he echoed himself, a look of sudden comprehension etched on his face. “One thousand years ago…”
They both turned to look at Discord, who placed his claws on his hips. “Hey, don’t look at me. I already had my shot at revenge, if you’ll recall.”
“Two shots, by my count,” Sky countered, but he let the matter drop. “But that only leaves two other possibilities: Sombra’s defeat, and the,” he paused to take a breath, “banishment of Nightmare Moon.”
“And you’re suspecting the latter?” Nighthawk asked without hesitation.
“Well…yeah,” he admitted. “See, I know a few things about that. Princess Luna had this…um…follower, I guess, that was supposed to go incite a rebellion against Celestia. But after Luna transformed and was defeated, he went into hiding before he was found and brought before her. Long story short, she pardoned him and he moved to start a new life in the area that would become Vanhoover.”
“You’re thinking that he moved here to plot his revenge?” Nighthawk asked.
“Hmmm…” Discord chimed in, stroking his goatee again. “It is certainly quite ways from Canterlot, though I’d find it hard to believe that Celestia would let a former conspirator against her go unchecked, no matter how good he may have appeared.”
Nighthawk arched an eyebrow. “That makes sense,” he said, then quickly added, “By the way, I thought you didn’t make sense as a rule.”
“I actually said there was no fun in making sense,” Discord corrected. “That doesn’t mean that I don’t ever do it. Even if it is dreadfully boring.”
“Think of it this way: your logic here is going to help us create chaos against our real enemy here,” Sky offered.
“Oh, bravo, my boy!” Discord exclaimed, leaning back and reclining on his tail as though it were a third leg. “What did I tell you? Even Discord has its place in the grander workings of harmony!”
Sky snorted in amusement. It felt good to be able to laugh with Discord, which was good, since Discord had a definitive knack for spontaneous hilarity. It felt strange after the whirlwind of events of the past twelve hours, but…still a good feeling.
“But you’re right, Discord,” Sky began. “I don’t think Storm Emblem—”
“Who?” Nighthawk interrupted.
“Storm Emblem. That’s the name of Luna’s rebellion starter.”
“Ah.”
“As I was saying, I don’t think he wanted revenge. I mean, Celestia pardoned him partly out of mercy, but also because she didn’t sense the corruption in him that caused Luna’s fall. He was loyal to Luna, but that was all. He hadn’t turned evil. He was following orders.”
As he spoke, a curious sense of shame welled up in his head. He hesitated, wondering what had brought that on, when Nighthawk spoke up, looking concerned. “Blitz? Is something wrong?”
“Huh? Well, no, not really…just feel kinda funny, I guess.”
Discord looked equally perplexed. “Then why are you crying?”
“Crying?” Sky reached up to his face and wiped under his eye. One look at his hoof revealed the tear that now rested on it. “Uh…okay. That’s…odd.”
“Got something on your mind?” Discord offered, poofing a couch into existence and patting it invitingly.
“I don’t think so…I mean, sure, I’ve been through a lot these past few days, but I thought I had moved past it all. As much as was possible, at least,” Sky stammered, running his hoof through his mane nervously.
Nighthawk and Discord exchanged looks, then turned back to the blue pegasus. “If you say you’re alright, we’ll let it go,” Nighthawk said, “but don’t hesitate to take it easy if you feel you need to.”
“Alright.” As comforting as it was to have the two of them with him, Sky couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else here…or someone else. He could not ignore the distinct sensation of a second pair of eyes watching him, mimicking his every step, shadowing him everywhere he went. It was unsettling. It made him feel claustrophobic, as though someone was invading his personal space, suffocating him.
He tried to push the feeling away. “Discord, you’ve read these journals, right? How far back do they go?”
“Oh, pretty much through the last thousand years,” Discord replied, “though about four hundred years ago, the journals took on a rather…oh, let’s call it a darker tone. For the first five hundred years, they were all pretty normal when it comes to diaries: no chaos, no real drama, just the occasional teenage angst. Bleh,” he muttered, shaking his head and sticking out his tongue. But he regained his composure almost immediately and continued. “But then around 450 A.C., things started to change. The name of Celestia wasn’t mentioned anymore. It was replaced by the word ‘she.’ And not long after that, they start using words like ‘tyrant,’ ‘real traitor,’ and ‘power-hungry menace.’”
Sky shivered. Nothing good could come from an opinion like that. “Do they ever mention Storm Emblem by name?” he asked.
“About fifty years into the journals is the first time I saw his name. Before then, he was always referenced as ‘dad’ or ‘grandpa’ or some silly familial—”
“So this is his family,” Nighthawk concluded abruptly. “But why the change? It sounds like there was a rather dramatic shift in philosophy at some point. Why?”
The two pegasi looked to the draconequus, who crossed his arms in protest. “Oh, you think I read all these journals? Even I can only manage so much.”
Sky sighed and hefted a stack of books from the chest. “Well guys, looks like we’ve got some reading to do.”
“Blitz? C’mon, wake up.”
Sky groggily opened an eye. He felt a hoof pressing into his side. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but the weight of his eyelids was proof enough that he had succumbed to the allure of slumber. “Urg…huh?” he grunted.
“Hey, welcome back. Have a nice nap?” Nighthawk’s voice floated to him as Sky’s vision slowly focused in on the orange pegasus.
“Sure,” Sky said, his body unwilling to be disturbed from its relaxed state. “I must’ve dozed off. Sorry.” He moaned and rolled onto his side. “How long was I out?”
Nighthawk glanced over at a previously-unnoticed clock on the wall. “Oh, just about two hours now, I guess. But listen, we think—”
“Two hours?!” Sky blurted, his head jerking from the book it had been resting on. “I slept for two hours?! How could you let me sleep that long? We have things to look into! I can’t afford to lie around and—”
“Hey, take it easy,” Nighthawk interrupted forcefully. “You’re not the only one here, you know. Discord and I have both been reading while you were resting.”
“But…”
“And,” Nighthawk continued, ignoring Sky’s protests, “you needed to rest. You tracked me for two days across Equestria, fought me in an all-out magic battle, travelled to Vanhoover, and expect to just be able to keep going? Blitz, you may have an abundance of energy, but it’s not endless. You can’t just expect to go on and on without sleep. Discord and I agreed that we should let you sleep. It’s for the best. If we’re going to confront the pony behind all this, you’re going to need your strength, and you can’t spend it all before you face him.”
“Grrr…fine,” Sky grumbled. He wearily rose to his hooves, trying to gather his wits. “What did you wake me up for, then?”
“We think we found the answer. Turns out that a ways down the family tree, some of Storm Emblem’s descendants became disgruntled with Celestia’s reign. They viewed his relocation to Vanhoover as more of an exile than a merciful pardoning. They began to write about the possibility of overthrowing Celestia.”
“That’s a pretty ridiculous proposition, if you ask me,” Sky remarked.
“Emotions often override logic, Blitz,” Nighthawk replied. “You of all ponies should know that.”
“Yeah.”
“Anyway, during the time of the Equestrian wars, they began to assemble knowledge of arcane and secret magics to defeat the ‘great warmonger.’ Storm Emblem was a pegasus, but he apparently had some unicorn descendants down the line, so they began to master this magic. The knowledge continued to accumulate, and it was passed on down the line…with the hatred they bore for Celestia.”
“Wow,” Sky said, shaking his head. “What a waste. Celestia went out of her way to forgive an avowed rebel, and what happens? His line plots revenge for his supposed ‘humiliation.’”
“Tell me about it. But here’s where things start to get interesting: at some point, one of his descendants finds out about the prophecy of Nightmare Moon’s imminent return after a thousand years.”
“So?”
“So,” Nighthawk emphasized, “that gave them an actual direction to focus on. Storm Emblem had failed while trying to help Luna take control of the land. Now that they had an actual timeframe to aim for, they could work to that objective: they could position themselves to prepare for Luna’s return and succeed where their ancestor had failed.”
“Then why didn’t they do anything when Luna did come back?” Sky asked. “They should totally have been in place for that, if they’d been preparing for hundreds of years.”
“I’m sure they were ready,” Nighthawk agreed, “but if you remember, Nightmare Moon was defeated within hours of her return, and she and Celestia were reconciled. The window of opportunity was probably dramatically shorter than they had anticipated.”
“I guess after waiting hundreds of years, they weren’t expecting things to move quite as quickly as they did,” Sky admitted.
“Probably not. And that brings me to my final piece of news for you.”
Sky cocked an eyebrow. “There’s more?”
Nighthawk nodded an affirmative. “We couldn’t find Storm Emblem’s journal in the chest, which was surprising since several of the others referenced the one that he kept. We wandered around the house for a while until we realized that there’s a central area that we can’t get into. It’s large enough to be a room, but there are no doors or other way in. Plus, Discord tells me that there’s a magic seal on the area that’s even more potent than the one around the house.”
“Interesting,” Sky said, the sleep lifting from his mind. “Guess they had something they wanted to hide, huh?”
“Yes, and it worries me,” Nighthawk replied. “A magic seal is an incredibly rare magic. Conjuring a complete one, even a weak one at that, is a feat. But the one around the house has repelled ponies for centuries, and now, there’s an even stronger one around the central chamber. If they’ve been passing around knowledge of magic like this for half a millennium, then the pony that possessed the sum total of it all would be immensely powerful.”
The gravity of the situation came as a revelation to Sky. For so long, he had imagined his foe as some magic-using pony, but never anything of such strength that Nighthawk seemed to indicate. “Strong enough to oppose Celestia?” Sky asked.
“I don’t know,” the orange pegasus admitted. “But I think it’s safe to say that we’ve drastically underestimated our foe up until now. It’s going to take more than just you or me to take them down.”
Sky’s brain almost flatlined. Facing his enemy could very well be on par with having to face Celestia herself. How that was possible was beyond him. How he would manage such a task was even more of a ridiculous idea.
And yet, in spite of the overwhelming feeling of foreboding and very real danger, a sense of determination rose to the front of his mind. He could not imagine how he could oppose a pony of such magical prowess, but from somewhere within him, words rose unbidden to his mouth.
“I have to stop this.”
Nighthawk looked at him in surprise. “Excuse me?”
Sky was equally stunned. “Uh…I don’t know. I’m…not sure why I said that. I certainly wasn’t thinking it.”
Nighthawk gave his student a scrutinizing stare. “Blitz, are you feeling alright?”
Sky brought a hoof to his chest and patted himself appraisingly. He breathing felt fine, his heart was still beating, and Lily’s twin brooches still hung from his shoulder wrap. The last few days had not been kind to his beloved scarf, and Sky wondered what Rarity would think to see her creation now. “I…I think so,” Sky stuttered. “I mean, maybe I’m still a little tired, but…I don’t think I’m becoming schizophrenic, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Nighthawk held his gaze for a few more moments, then relaxed and sat back on his haunches. “Discord is supposed to let me know when he finds a way past the seal. He didn’t think it would take too long, but I figured I’d have enough time to get you caught up on everything.”
As if on cue, Discord’s head rose from the wooden floor, a silly grin plastered on his face. “Oh, I do some of my best work under pressure,” he said, looking all-too-pleased with himself. “Whoever set up that seal certainly knew what they were doing. I have to give them that much.”
“So you can get us inside?” Sky asked hesitantly. The memory of his first trip with Discord was still fresh in his mind (as was the apprehension of enduring it again).
“Never a problem for the lord of chaos,” Discord said, rising completely through the floor and opening a portal in the air. “Ready to go?”
Sky read the expression on Nighthawk’s face as though it was written for all to see: It’s not possible to be ready. But his mouth simply said, “Let’s do this.”
The next thing Sky knew, his head felt like it had been filled with jelly and tossed inside a blender on a roller coaster, but he had just enough awareness to realize that his surroundings had changed dramatically. Instead of the rich furnishings of the halls outside, the inner sanctum of the building bore the appearance of a simple log cabin. The walls were made of stacked wooden logs, with only a few candles and a small fireplace on one end providing light. A narrow bookshelf sat against the wall, though it contained few books, and even fewer with legible titles. And against the far wall, a lonely desk sat with a single wax candle and a closed book. The book was hidden behind a veil of dust that had been stirred up by the trio’s sudden appearance in the room.
“My, my,” Discord said, “this is rather unexpected.”
To his left, Sky heard Nighthawk struggling to keep the contents of his stomach where they were. “What the hay is this?” Sky asked, wondering if his senses were still reeling from the short trip through the chaos vortex.
“It appears to be a rustic home. A rather bland dwelling, if you ask me,” Discord answered.
Sky’s vision slowly cleared, and as it did, his eyes fell upon the sole image pinned to the walls. It was a large picture, placed in a simple wooden frame. In it, a solitary pegasus stood tall and straight, looking at a point off to the left. His body was dark blue and his mane and tail were a pale golden color. The cutie mark on his flank was a silver shield graced with the mark of a bright yellow lightning bolt. But the most telling features of the image were his bright blue eyes. They seemed to penetrate the dimness of the room with a light all their own. Sky stared in silence at the image as a warm feeling of familiarity washed over him. He walked over to the picture and placed his hoof against the base of the frame.
“Well,” he said, feeling oddly nostalgic, “I’ve found you at last, Storm Emblem.”