The ponies stopped running just outside the crumbling stone walls, more from expediency than a sense of security; whatever they’d left behind in the castle was certainly not worth blindly bolting headlong into the darkness of the Everfree just yet.
“What. Was. THAT?!” Rarity exclaimed between gasps.
“I have no idea!” Twilight gasped back, her own breathing ragged and metallic in her throat. Of the four, she was probably the least fit and mostly spent her hours practicing magic, not cardio.
Fluttershy was beside herself, whimpering, wings shuddering, nearly on the verge of tears. “Did… did it follow us?”
“I do not think so, but it is too soon to know.” Zecora barely seemed winded, but her eyes were wide with fear. She was muttering to herself in her native language, some sort of prayer or invocation. “Miungu ya nchi tambarare, kulinda kutoka usiku, tutumie siku yako, kutupatia mwanga wenu…”
All four of them stared back at the castle. It was still dark and silent. No glowing blue light, no screeching monster galloping after them out of the distance. It was unnerving and relieving at the same time. The air was still dense with magic, but it had not intensified any further after the initial surge
After a few minutes, Twilight felt some semblance of rationality returning as her breathing slowed. What they’d seen was terrifying, but there had to be some sort of explanation. She couldn’t say for sure, but maybe it had something to do with…
“Twilight, before we had to flee, you said something about a ‘Tree of Harmony’?” Zecora’s wits seemed to have returned to her as well.
Twilight raged internally for letting that one slip. Although some of the other mares knew she was interested in the crystal tree below the castle, she’d never completely let on what she thought it was, or exactly why she was studying it. “Well, I’m not sure that’s exactly what I said,” she evaded. “I was a little woozy from the magic surge and…”
“Because in my land we have a story,” Zecora continued, “of a crystal tree with ancient glory. It keeps the magic of Chaos at bay, protecting our lives from disarray. Umoja is the word we use, but it could mean ‘harmony’ to you.”
“There’s a crystal tree in the dungeons under the castle…” Rarity said slowly. “My gem-finding spell led me there once with Applejack. I know Twilight came here a few times to study it.”
“If indeed something she knows of this,” Zecora said pointedly. “To let it go unsaid would be remiss.” She glanced sideways at Twilight intently.
The purple unicorn groaned quietly. Her horn was starting to throb painfully again. Of all the things she needed, this was not one of them.
Still, perhaps a little misdirection could do some good. Maybe a sliver of truth would satisfy the other mares enough for her to complete her task and get out of town.
“I think it might be a tree of Harmony,” Twilight said hesitantly, trying not to let her mouth get ahead of her brain. “That’s one of the things I was studying when I was here. That’s why I came back, to do more research on how Harmony magic affects the local Chaos magic.”
“Has your research shown enough to prove that Harmony could make the statue move?”
Twilight shook her head. “No,” she replied with absolute honesty, “Not from anything I’ve seen.”
“What about Chaos?” Rarity asked. “I remember a time when the statue in town square came to life and organized one of those country bumpkin ‘hoe-downs’.”
“No,” Twilight said again, “Chaos magic doesn’t work out here, I’ve tried. Besides, that magic in the courtyard was based on control, not Harmony or Chaos. Control magic doesn’t ask nicely, it forces things to obey the users wishes.”
“So…” Rarity’s voice was filled with apprehension. “Who was controlling the statue, then? Or what?”
Fluttershy interjected, still quaking with fear. “I don’t know, but if it’s alright with everypony else, can we please go now?”
Twilight seized the opportunity to possibly get away from the others. “Yeah, you three should definitely go,” she urged. “Statue or not, there’s more information I need to gather about what’s going on here.”
“No dear, that simply won’t do at all,” Rarity said. “Who knows what kind of creatures or magics you might run into? What kind of friends would we be if we did that?”
“We’re friends?” Twilight asked. An uncomfortable silence fell over the group, and it was obvious Rarity’s words had been a slight misstep.
Fluttershy, of all ponies, spoke first. “Well… friends or not, it would be cruel to leave you by yourself in a dangerous place like this,” she quietly urged. “You could get hurt, or worse!”
Zecora nodded in agreement. “Remiss we would be to leave you alone, out here in the dark with that creature of stone.”
Twilight growled under her breath. This was going to throw a shoe in her plans. She could try and lose the others in the woods and head back, but then they would come looking for her. She could insist on staying and try to plant the seeds anyway, but they might get suspicious and stop her, or whatever was in the castle might cause more problems. She could give up for today and try later, but even that was subject to possible complications.
And yet… As she gazed into the dark toward the castle walls, she felt a nauseating feeling churn in her stomach. It wasn’t fear for life and limb, or even fear of the unknown. She’d felt both plenty of times in this crazy, unpredictable world. Somehow, this was worse.
Eventually she gave in to the feeling and sighed reluctantly. “You’re right. Let’s go.”
“The cabin is the nearest place,” Rarity advised, looking with concern at the trembling Fluttershy, “I think we should go there first.”
They arrived at the woodside cabin some time later, Zecora leading the way down an alternate path that only she seemed to be able to follow. The cabin was visible from quite a distance because of the bright magical lamps outside, and in spite of herself, Twilight felt comforted to be walking toward it.
She trailed behind the group slightly, occasionally considering how easy it would be to simply slow down and slip away back to the castle, plant the Seeds of Discord, and wash her hooves of this place. The thought gave her no pleasure, but at least she’d be done with the task.
Yet every time she’d glanced behind, that uneasy nauseous feeling returned. Something was wrong in the old castle, in a way she’d never felt before. Perhaps it was the magic of control, or something deeper, more malicious. Whatever was in there wasn’t friendly, and Twilight couldn’t shake some deep, primal instinct that venturing inside those walls again would be her undoing.
Zecora unlocked the door and the four ponies shuffled inside gratefully. The trek through the forest had left them all tired and dirty; mud and bits of foliage clung to their coats and hooves. In addition, the sun had been dark for nearly twelve hours now, the moon and stars slightly less than that, and the cooling air outside had taken on an extra chill.
“Oh, am I glad to be out of there,” Rarity exclaimed. “There’s a reason I don’t go in for wilderness expeditions. I think I may have chipped a hoof.”
“We have a bath if you desire, to clean off all this horrible mire.” Zecora said with a chuckle, lightly imitating Rarity’s refined inflections.
“Darling, I have been through worse, believe it or not,” Rarity responded to the ribbing with a wry smile. “I think I can survive until I get back to the boutique. Besides, my mane needs special care; regular shampoos just won’t do, unfortunately.”
“Well, a bath does sound nice,” Fluttershy said, glancing around. “I probably will if nopony else- OH! Twilight!” she exclaimed.
“What?” Twilight grumbled irritably as she crossed the threshold. It was then she caught sight of herself in a mirror just inside the door.
Of the four, she was by far the worse for wear. There were branches and twigs tangled all through her mane. Her forelegs, chest and face were covered in dirt. Small scabs dotted her fur. A particularly nasty-looking scratch ran across the side of her neck. Several smaller ones on her chest and legs didn’t look much better.
“Is that… blood?!” Rarity said in horror, stepping closer. “Twilight, what… what happened?”
“I… I fell in a thornbush,” Twilight replied with more than a little embarrassment. She glanced at her bedraggled reflection again. “It looks a lot worse than it actually is,” she offered weakly.
“No no no, these cuts need tended right away,” Fluttershy said, swooping in and examining Twilight gently. “You could get an infection! Zecora, draw a warm bath half-full. Rarity, there’s a first-aid kit in the kitchen, in the right-most cupboard under the sink.”
The other mares dashed off to perform their tasks as Fluttershy took Twilight’s saddlebags and led the sore and tired unicorn toward the bathroom. When they got there, Zecora already had the large claw-foot tub partially full. “The bath is warm and nearly ready to take. If you wish, a soothing balm of herbs I can make?”
“Yes, that would be perfect,” Fluttershy agreed. “Get in Twilight, please.”
“But-” Twilight protested.
“No buts, get in,” Fluttershy ordered, quietly but firmly.
Twilight complied. Truthfully, the warm water did feel wonderful even though it stung her cuts. Rarity arrived with the first-aid kit, and was immediately set to work brushing the brambles and foliage out of Twilight’s mane.
Fluttershy gently cleaned Twilight’s wounds with soap and water. She rinsed the blood away and used a soft cloth to remove debris and a couple broken thorns. She washed the worst dirt from Twilight’s coat with a quick scrub down, while Rarity did the same with her mane. After a gentle towelling-off, she applied Zecora’s herbal mix to the largest cuts, then bandaged them loosely.
Through it all, Fluttershy hardly spoke, and only quietly said “sorry” whenever Twilight winced. It was odd being so closely attended by a pony who never made eye contact, but Twilight chalked it up to Fluttershy’s nearly crippling shyness.
About twenty minutes later, Twilight was wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe and drinking tea in the living room. Zecora and Fluttershy were taking a moment to clean up; she could hear them somewhere else in the house talking to each other.
“Oh, that feels better. Not perfect, but an improvement.” Rarity stepped inside from the front porch and flipped her mane. She had opted to simply brush the small amount of dirt and leaves out for now, until getting home to the boutique where she could use all her special shampoos and soaps for a “proper” bath.
Rarity took the couch opposite Twilight. “How are you feeling?” She asked sincerely.
“Okay, I guess,” Twilight answered. “I didn’t realize in the dark how bad it was, and so I kind of just ignored the pain.”
“Goodness, that’s sounds awful. If you felt even a fraction as terrible as you looked… I shudder to think!”
“I suppose I was quite a sight.” Twilight smiled ruefully. “But really, I do feel much better.”
“Well, that’s Fluttershy for you,” Rarity said. “Honestly, I swear that pony has magic hooves.”
Twilight nodded and sipped her tea. She couldn’t place the kind of leaves or mixture that Zecora used, but it was amazing regardless. And the herbal poultice, Fluttershy’s placement of the bandages so as not to pull fur, the gentle cleaning of all that scratchy dirt…
“Those two really take their talents seriously, don’t they?” Twilight said, motioning a hoof toward the muffled voices. “I mean, I saw a bit of it when I was here before, but I never experienced it first-hoof.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Rarity responded. “Make sure you thank Fluttershy profusely; tonight hasn’t been easy for her.”
The subtle tone in Rarity’s voice made it clear that she wasn’t referring to the incident at the castle, and Twilight again became very aware of her status as an outsider. Fluttershy may have been helping out of the goodness of her heart, but the reason for her silence around Twilight was now clear.
There was a slight increase in the intensity of Fluttershy and Zecora’s voices, although Twilight still couldn’t hear what was being said. Abruptly, the distant conversation stopped, and an awkward silence crept into the air.
“Rarity,” Twilight said, breaking the silence. “I wanted to ask you… about what you said at the --”
“Hold that thought, dear,” Rarity interrupted, as hoofbeats came down the hall toward the living room.
Zecora entered a moment later. “I am sorry to keep you waiting, I had some things that needed aiding.”
“That’s quite all right darling,” Rarity replied. “How is our Fluttershy doing?”
“Still shaken and fearful it seems to be,” Zecora said. “She needs her rest, I’m sure you’ll agree.” The last sentence was said politely enough, but carried a definite undercurrent.
Rarity nodded knowingly “Well, it is getting a little late. We shant keep you a moment longer.” She got up from the couch and pointedly motioned for Twilight to do the same.
Twilight quickly finished her tea and got to her hooves. She removed the warm bathrobe and quickly folded it into a neat bundle. Passing Zecora, she passed the bathrobe and cleared her throat.
“Um, thank you for the tea, and the herbs, they’re really helping.” Twilight motioned to her bandages. “And please thank Fluttershy for me too; I really feel much better now.”
Zecora only nodded and half-smiled politely. Twilight took the hint and followed Rarity to the front door, where they said some brief goodbyes and quickly left.
The two unicorns walked in silence for a few minutes. Their separate ways to the library and the boutique would probably diverge soon, but until then they shared the path into town.
Twilight felt like she was going to explode. Her mind was a confused jumble of conflicting emotions and questions. Some were about the magic and the strange events they witnessed at the castle. Many were about the three mares she had been with, and what her status was with them. Some particularly pressing worries revolved around Rarity’s offer of friendship earlier in the evening.
In the grand scheme of things, the latter concerns seemed positively trivial compared to whatever powerful magic was at work in the old castle, but Twilight couldn’t focus anywhere else. There was a fork in the road ahead both figuratively and literally, and the castle could probably wait for now, but Rarity wouldn’t.
With a deep breath to steady her nerves, Twilight took the plunge.
“Rarity, about what happened tonight…”
“Honestly dear, I’d rather not think about it,” Rarity curtly responded. “As it is, I’m going to have dreadful nightmares about that castle.”
“I didn’t mean that,” Twilight said. “I was actually referring to your offer of friendship.”
Rarity’s pace slowed, and her eyes defocused into the distance for a moment. “Oh, that,” she said flatly before resuming a normal walking speed.
Twilight sighed and tried again to gather her unruly thoughts. When that failed, she decided to just keep talking. “I know that was probably very difficult for you, considering… well, everything that’s happened.”
Rarity only nodded.
Twilight continued: “I really appreciate you reaching out like that, but…” She took a deep breath. “...I really don’t think I can accept it.”
The last words flowed almost without thinking, and almost immediately Twilight regretted them.
Rarity’s ears flattened and her jaw stiffened. “I’m… sorry you feel that way.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Twilight’s voice was rushed now, “I really do want to, but… I can’t. I made a commitment, and going back on that would mean betraying everything that I am, and -”
“And what are you, Twilight Sparkle?” Rarity stopped and rounded suddenly, eyes glaring. “Please, do tell me, because I’m dying to know. Are you Discord’s willing errand-pony, going here and there, destroying any chance at normalcy for the will of our glorious Emperor? Are you a confused mare caught between your job and your heart? Or are you nothing more than the two-faced deceiver you’ve shown yourself to be?”
Twilight cowered under the verbal onslaught, but Rarity wasn’t finished.
“There’s a reason there’s only six of us in our little circle, counting Zecora. We have to be careful who we try to befriend. Some ponies would actively sell us out. Some simply don’t understand anything but Chaos and would tear apart everything we’ve built. And yet, we made an exception for you. For some reason I simply cannot fathom, I want to be your friend, even though everything about you says I should get as far away as possible. The others feel it too, but they can’t explain it either.
“And we tried, Twilight, but apparently you didn’t want it, despite your protest to the contrary just now. I will admit, there were moments when I thought you’d come around, but we must not have been worth it! Poor Fluttershy was positively inconsolable for days! I would wager she’s at home, crying her eyes out right now. So please, enlighten me as to who or what you are, so I can decide if I want to be friends with that mare!”
“I… I’m…” Twilight’s voice died in her throat.
“And do not say ‘I’m sorry’, because at this point it’s not worth the breath wasted. If I hear another word, it had better be a reason why I should ever trust you again.”
Twilight’s knees were shuddering. She could hardly breathe for the lump of emotion in her throat. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, but no words would form.
After a few moments, Rarity simply nodded and wordlessly started walking down the path again.
“Rarity, just -”
“Goodnight, Twilight Sparkle.”
Emotion overwhelming her, Twilight stood for a moment as Rarity’s light spell receded into the darkness. Her jumble of thoughts had become a hurricane, and she couldn’t find which way was up any further.
After a moment she finally found her legs, willed them into a full gallop, and for the second time that day Twilight Sparkle fled from Rarity.
The library door slammed, and Twilight slumped to the floor. She didn’t summon any light. She didn’t need it. Unlike the oppressive blackness outside, the dark inside the library was somehow comforting, and she let it wrap around her like a blanket, hiding her from the world.
The tears never came, although she tried again and again to force them out. Oh Discord, she wanted to cry, to keep crying, but all she could do was gasp and grit her teeth at the welling of emotion. She couldn’t rationalize any of it. All she could do was feel.
It was strange, some far-detached part of her mused, that crying was such a catharsis. The simple feeling of tears running down her cheeks would make dealing with the swirling emotions easier. As it was, she couldn’t tell between anger, pain, fear, sorrow… She just curled in tightly on herself as the torrent of feelings surged inside her.
She didn’t know how long she laid there, but eventually, her breathing slowed and became regular again. Her normal thought processes returned, and she gradually became aware of being cold. It wasn’t a biting, chilly cold; just… uncomfortable.
Of course, she chided herself. You’re lying on the hardwood floor of an unheated building in the middle of an endless night. Of course you’re cold.
She cast her mind around for something that might help, and then remembered. That blanket Rarity gave me would be perfect right about now, she thought.
But you put it downstairs when you left, another part of her brain complained. That means getting out of bed again.
Too bad someone can’t just bring it here, the first part agreed.
A soft warm weight settled gently over her. “Oh, thank you.”
“T’wér plesén oús,” another voice answered.
Twilight’s eyes shot open. In a panic, she rolled out of the bed and tried to locate the voice, then instantly wished she hadn’t.
Standing on the opposite side of the bedroom, tall as the ceiling, dark royal blue, clad in terrible armor and silhouetted in the light of the crescent moon outside the window, was the Night-Mare.
Twilight tried to scream, but the sound died in her throat and only came out sounding like a squeak. She fumbled backward until there was no where else to go, and braced herself tightly against the wall, hooves sliding on the floor in a panic.
She was dead now, she knew it. The towering alicorn could strangle her with a mere thought, incinerate her with a flick of her horn, or opt to simply crush the tiny unicorn under a massive armored horseshoe.
Yet none of that happened. Instead, the huge creature seemed to be studying Twilight, her visage a mask framed by the intricately crafted war helm she wore. Through the terror, Twilight thought she saw a slight expression of amusement pass over the Night-Mare’s face.
“Feáyrd thé arén oús?”
The voice was regal, clipped, powerful. It sounded like the flowing of a thousand rivers, and Twilight cowered before it. She didn’t know the language, couldn’t answer.
The Night-Mare cocked her head slightly, as if she were studying a particularly intelligent mouse, then spoke again, slowly. “Art thou afraid of us?”
All Twilight could do was nod. At least the alicorn knew multiple languages, it seemed.
“Thou rememb’rest not our name?” The Night-Mare took a few huge steps forward, around the end of the bed. Her booming hoof-falls echoed off the walls, shaking the floor beneath them.
Gasping in fear, Twilight skittered backward again, trying to put as much space between herself and the terrifying creature as possible. Her mind was playing catch up, trying to figure out why she wasn’t already dead, but her flight response was still in full control.
The huge alicorn sighed, apparently in resignation. “Ah, ‘tis as we hath feared, to wake when naught were known save myth and legend.”
Twilight’s heart was still pounding out of her chest, but a tiny voice of reason began to trickle in. She was still alive, and that had to count for something. Perhaps the Night-Mare could be reckoned with.
“Wha… what… do you… want?” Twilight finally whispered.
“Want?” The alicorn was on Twilight’s side of the bed now, and covered the distance between them in a single stride. “Many desires be ours little one, but forsooth, nary a one more than this...”
The Night-Mare lowered her head level with Twilight’s, and whispered a single word. “Revenge.”
Twilight woke with a start and sat upright. The bedroom was pitch black, and she lit her horn. Empty. No Night-Mare, nothing but the bed, the night-stand, a dresser, and a small bookshelf.
She was sweating and panting, but her breathing quickly slowed when she finally determined there was no immediate danger. Just a bad dream, probably brought on by her experience at the castle. Which reminded her, she needed to figure out what had happened, what was probably still happening out there in the forest.
Still, she was tired, and a bad dream didn’t count for much in the way of sleep. Snuggling back down under Rarity’s blanket, she promised herself that tomorrow -
Rarity’s blanket.
Sitting bolt upright again, she stared down at the simple feather-stuffed comforter, chaos-imbued print shifting silently to random objects and patterns. It was the one Rarity had made for her, for sure, but she didn’t remember getting it. In fact, she didn't even remember coming to the bedroom at all.
Twilight ran a hoof over the blanket to make sure it was real, as thoughts whirled in her head.
What was going on?