//------------------------------//
// Chapter 3 
// Story: The Same Mistake 
// by The Wizard of Words 
//------------------------------//

Celestia was a kind princess, of that nopony could deny. She sought often the kindness in ponies, even in the darkest of times. No mare or stallion were beneath her in her eyes, only ponies that had erred and deserved the chance to make right. Even the embodiment of chaos itself was worthy of a second chance to her. Simply, to Celestia, there was no such thing as an undeserving pony.

That did not mean she was not wary. Especially now, staring at a creature unlike anything her centuries had shown her before.

Standing on its hind legs, arm grasping at something in the air, and staring at her with eyes that appeared to be etched from stone. It had a smile that unnerved her as much as any trick Discord may have pulled.

She felt Opal and Jasmine behind her, peeking out from behind her extended wings. She could feel their bodies trembling against her, clearly as disturbed the sudden appearance of the creature as she was. A small part of Celestia’s analytical side supposed that was a good thing. It meant it wasn’t another secret they were hiding.

The creature regarded them silently for a moment longer, staring with the same mismatched wide eyes and troubling smile. When it did start to move, Celestia felt her brow furrow. It wasn’t a threatening move, far from it, but the alicorn could think to be little else but cautious in the face of something so new and foreign to even her; putting its sudden and unorthodox entry aside.

“Excuse me,” the creature spoke perfectly, lips never losing their smile as it spoke, arms lowering to its sides, briefly. “I appear to be a bit lost at the moment, accidently being transported and all. Would you care to tell me where I am?” The creature’s arms rose as it spoke, lifting only shortly after they settled at its sides. They settled for reaching out towards Celestia, maybe half way its total reach, as if asking for something physical from her, despite the purely informational request.

Celestia had a much more important question on her mind.

“Who are you?” She asked the question carefully, knowing well that personal information on this new and foreign entity was valuable, at least in the moment. The creature, either through wisdom or intellect, saw ahead of her.

“I’m sorry,” it apologized with a slightly bowed head and a raised pair of hands. “But I am far more interested in the name of the place where I am now. You may have misheard me, but I appear to have been suddenly transported from one location to another.” One of the creature’s hands moved outwards as it spoke, stretching to its farthest length as it slowly rotated at the wrist. Something about the motion just seemed… off to the alicorn. “It would be a terrible shame to be lost, wouldn’t you agree?”

Celestia regarded the creature coldly for a moment, knowing that every second that passed without an apology from either her student or the young dragon charge was another point that this thing’s sending was not a mistake.

She could recall the way the creature appeared, one of its hands clenching at the air.

“You are in Canterlot,” she eventually supplied, well aware of the still-frozen students behind her. She kept her wings flared, concealing them from the thing. “And you are speaking to its princess.”

“Royalty?” The creature brought both of its hands back to its body, letting one grip at its chin while the other supported its elbow. The scarred head on its shoulders tilted to the side as he spoke, as if thinking. “Now that is interesting. I was just speaking with another princess before I ended up here.” Celestia did not let any expression show.

“And what were you speaking to this other princess about?” She hid the name, a small and easy test pass for the creature. Twilight was far from unknown amongst Equestria, but for a foreign creature such as this, alien to her even after all her years, she could assume modern knowledge may be beyond it.

“Oh, you know, just some friendly help and advice,” the creature spoke easily through its smile, waving its gray and marred hand as it spoke, as if to wave off a puff of smoke. It turned from the princess, glancing about the room they were in. “There are an awful lot of books in here. Are we in another library? It’s not nearly as neat as the last one.”

Another, so this thing was in Twilight’s castle, and doubtlessly with Spike.

“Th-Th-This is o-o-our pro-f-f-f-f-” Celestia heard the chambering voice and saw Opal desperately trying to speak behind her. The solar princess thought she was shy in her court. In front of this creature, she looked more prepared to turn and flee than hold a conversation. Celestia could hardly fault the young student.

“Excuse me?” The creature spoke, breaking the unicorn’s fragile sentence apart. Celestia heard the younger of the two sisters ‘eep’ as she ducked away. “Oh deary me, did I frighten you?” Despite the question, the creature was still smiling. Despite the conversation, Celestia had still learned near nothing about it, a fact that needed to be corrected.

“Perhaps it would be beneficial to give us your name,” Celestia extended the olive branch. “Or perhaps… where you are from.” The creature’s head tilted as it eyed her, an odd movement that felt as odd and unnatural as nearly everything else it did. Celestia was wary earlier, but now she was on edge.

“Oh, I’m from a far off land, one you may have never even heard of,” Its arm extended and rotated, making a large circle that stretched from just beneath its waist to high above its head. As it made the motion, it leaned in the direction of its arm, making it sway to only one foot. It acted as if it were natural for it, something that Celestia could not rebuke. “But my name is incredibly hard to say, and I would feel so offended if you could not pronounce it.”

Even in its tilted state with an extended arm, it managed to lay its other arm, with a hand gray as stone, on its chest. As it did, it bowed its head, angled still as if it were laying on a small hill. Perhaps it was a sign of respect, of apology, or maybe just another abnormal act for an already alien creature.

“But perhaps a bit of middle ground is required, hmm?” The creature’s head rose, a curious grin set about its lips again, its gray and chalky mouth. Celestia felt herself swallow at the sight, suddenly thirsty. The creature leveled itself, standing tall on its hind legs, posture straight and stiff as a board. Celestia felt stone would be a better descriptor were most stones far from flat.

It bent its extended arm in, fully colored and unmarred as far the alicorn’s eyes could tell. She stared at it for a moment, wondering what it was about to do. Then, from some part of the room Celestia didn’t see, a bird appeared. It was quiet, almost as soundless as still air, appearing and landing on the creature’s arm. A black body and beady red eyes, it appeared to be the thing more common in the nightmare of foals.

“This is Arma,” the creature spoke, its gray hand hovering over the bird. It twisted and bent its head, an action Celestia was familiar with Philomena. The creature giggled above the bird. “She’s a devious little thing, but don’t worry, I keep her on a tight leash.” This time, when the thing giggled, it shut it eyes and widened its lips, giggling through clenched… nothing?

‘Its teeth are fake?’ Celestia thought to herself, knowing to keep her spoken words to a precious minimum. ‘Not just fake, drawn as if… they aren’t even supposed to be there.’ It was a disturbing thought, one that nearly pulled a scowl onto her features. But she was a princess, a diplomat at that, and she knew how to wear a passive mask in the most turbulent of situations. This was just that.

“She is a nice bird,” Celestia spoke in a kind tone, allowing a small smile of her own. It was a ploy, an act, but it was a move she had to make. Good relations essential, especially with new creatures. “But tell me, what happened to your hand?” She pointed her regalia-clad hoof at the creature’s aforementioned hand, gray and marred by some questionable circumstance.

The creature did not answer her immediately. Instead, it lifted its hand as well, staring at it as if wondering about the question. The bird, Arma, jumped lightly on its complete hand, staring at what Celestia now assumed to be a very unique scar. That, or a curse of some form. Curses may not exist, but neither did a Princess of Friendship until recent months.

“A reminder,” it suddenly spoke, in a voice lower and calmer than what it had used before. The Solar Princess almost missed the words. But then, like flipping a coin, it picked up the same jovial tone right where it left off. “Just a reminder that some part of me is flawed. It makes sense after all, what with the rest of me being just so dashing!”

As if to make its point, the creatue shut its eyes and turned its head, as if posing for a painter. Its gray hand even opened just beneath its chin, as if partially framing its face. It was an odd display, but then, it was far from the oddest thing the alicorn had seen.

“But what about your eye?” That wasn’t Celestia.

The alicorn whirled her head quickly to see that Jasmine had spoken the words, the elder unicorn student suddenly looking very meek with the Solar Princess’s gaze on her. Any confidence she had been mustering to speak vanished at the sight. Celestia reverted her attention to the creature, wondering, half-hoping, it did little to insult him.

Judging by the sudden shift in its drawn grin, twitching of unscarred eye, she assumed that was far from the case. But then it recovered, smiling as gently and deviously as it had before. It leant over, keeping its legs stiff and straight, his balance undaunted by the sudden shift in posture.

“Deary me, that was an awfully rude thing to say,” It spoke with the grin as same as it was before. Celestia felt Jasmine huddle closer to her, terror deepening. “Maybe I should give you a scar.” Rather than what was said, the malice behind its voice set Celestia on the defensive.

“You will do no such thing,” Celestia dropped any inviting tone she may have held, long past formalities. “And you would do well to remember with whom you are speaking.” Despite, or rather, in spite of the diarch’s commanding words, the creature only chuckled, raising up as it did so.

“I was only a jest. I hear those are supposed to be the best ways to broker new meetings, are they not?” The hand that did not hold the black raven half extended towards Celestia, as if asking her to deliver the answer. She noticed it before, but now it was becoming more and more apparent. This creature savored moving, doing it as often as it could. She didn’t, however, know what to make of it.

“Perhaps, but this is far from a formal greeting,” Celestia parried, verbally dueling the creature as if with a rapier. It had a smile sharp enough to give the metaphor meaning. “And it’s hardly a greeting at that. You have yet to even give us your name.”

“I could say the same for the two little mares behind you.” It extended hand curled until a single digit was pointing outwards. It moved forward and back, poking at the two unicorns flanking either of Celestia’s sides. She scowled at the creature.

“This meeting is between us,” she attempted to right. “You are in my kingdom, without any reason you are willing to speak. For what reason should I not see you as a threat?” Turning the question into one of consequence often made it difficult to deflect. The coy smile on the creature, however, suggested it had done this dance before.

“I may not be so open with why I’m here, but I would hardly consider those who ask questions uninvolved in a conversation.” The creature raised and shrugged its arms, even tilting its head to complete the image of mock-confusion. Celestia watched as Arma jumped from its gray hand, soundless as ever, only to land on its head. The creature didn’t seem to mind. More than that, the action didn’t change it. There was no dimple in the hat it wore, no wave to the hair on its head. In fact… nothing about the creature seemed to indicate a form of biology, as shape alone was far from enough.

“Then perhaps we should take our conversation somewhere more private.” The Solar Princess extended the invitation, testing the waters for the creature. Depending on its answer, it would either show its desire to learn, to flee, or be a threat. She suspected the middle of the three, but the latter was her concern.

“Why that would be a splendid idea!” The creature jovially replied, extending its arms outward and upward, celebrating like a foal. But just as quickly did it move its arm did it pull them back in, bowing lowly to the alicorn with one arm folded across its chest, the other over the back of its long orange coat. “Where would be best for a meeting such as ours?”

“Jasmine, Opal,” the alicorn spoke to the pair of students, not turning eye to meet them. “Please go prepare the conference room in Starswirl’s Education Wing.” She gave the command, but neither of the unicorns moved. They were stiff against her sides, debating between leaving their majesty or standing with her. Celestia, however, was pressed for time. “Sooner is better than later.” Those words got through.

“U-Uh,” Jasmine hesitated behind her, though the Solar Princess felt her lean back from her extended wings. “I-I’ll go that. It’ll be done soon, real soon! Like… five minutes ago! C’mon Opal!” Getting only a small ‘eek’ of distress from her younger sibling, Jasmine grabbed opal around the back, pulling her sister around Celestia, around the mountains of papers, and through the door.

Celestia didn’t watch them. She kept her eyes on the creature across from her, not moving from its bow. Though it didn’t move clearly, hardly so much as a flicker of its oddly still hair, she tracked its eyes. The pupils were moving, rolling as they followed the pair of students. They didn’t blink, they didn’t narrow, they only watched with a thin grin adorned beneath.

The alicorn’s ears twitched as the door closed behind them, likely a small reflexive act of the pair to keep the statue from watching them. She couldn’t be sure, but it was unlikely they were looking anywhere else but the abnormality that was conjured into their professor’s room. But with them gone, Celestia felt a weight lifted from her.

“We are now speaking privately,” she began, making it clear their intention to stay put. She saw one of the thing’s brows raise, only one. It gave her a curious look, smile still omnipresent on its drawn features.

“We are, aren’t we?” The thing rose as it asked the question, raven on its head only lightly adjusting to the act, silent as ever. Celestia did not consider much for the bird, see it as pet equally odd as the creature was.

“Yes, so speak clearly and honestly, or I will have no choice but to assume the worst of you.” She dropped any pretense for civility in her tone, already well aware by the creature’s words that it wasn’t here for peaceful reasons. No peaceful diplomat lightly joked about maiming another.

“Deary me,” the creature spoke now what Celestia was sure was a phrase it enjoyed. “That was a very rude remark. I promise you I have only the intention to explore the world! I only ended up here by accident.”

As it spoke, it rose to its full height again, moving its arms from a shrug to a point, aiming towards the ground they stood on. It was very descriptive with its actions, but less than brief with its words. It only meant Celestia had to exercise every power of her observation with care.

“Rude as it may be, my statement stands,” Celestia stood her ground. “I have little doubt that you were in Twilight’s Castle, and I am equally sure you were with the young dragon in her care. But, what I do not know is why you were there and how you got here.” The creature opened its mouth, still drawn with some chalky substance, but Celestia interrupted its words. “And do not pretend to say it was an accident on any pony’s part. Were it so, I would surely know by now.”

The creature shut its lips, lowering its eyes into a sort of hard glare. Though its smile, as before, didn’t change. Rather, the narrowing of its eyes only made its grin sharper, harder, and more assured to Celestia that dangerous intents lurked around the corner.

It looked away from her, staring instead at the bird on its head. The raven looked down, red eyes unblinking as it stared back. The creature’s grin did not change, nor did its hollow eyes shift in any way. It was still as a statue, if only for a moment.

“Yes, that would work,” the creature spoke to the raven in barely a whisper. Celestia remained silent, intently listening. But no matter how much she focused her hearing, she heard little more than the creature’s barely audible murmurs. There was not a sound and hardly a wing beat from the black raven.

“Well then, your highness, I may be able to answer your question,” the creature spoke, lifting its gray hand to its head. With a small hop, the raven jumped from the top of the thing’s yellow head, landing on the stretched limb silently as ever. The creature lowered its hand when it did, using its opposite colored limb to lightly brush the black raven’s coat. “But, may you answer a question for me first? I simply hate being the one giving information needlessly.”

“I’m sure you have no qualms of receiving it,” Celestia knew it was barb, a sharp one at that, but it was beneficial in the moment. She could not forget the sudden hardness that came to the creature’s gaze when its scars were mentioned. Experience had taught the alicorn that anger was the quickest way for hotheaded honesty to bubble forth.

But the creature didn’t anger, nor did it still or sharpen its gaze. It appeared just as relaxed, just as at ease. If anything, the words seemed to entertain it. Giggling followed her words, hunching over slightly if only to hide what little of its drawn smile that it could. The bird on its hand didn’t appear perturbed in the slightest.

“Don’t be absurd,” it spoke with cheer in its voice, in a way that Celestia would hinge more towards Discord than this clandestine character. “I would never do that. I’m no human.”

Finally, something.

“Human?” Celestia returned, a curious ring to her still commanding tone. “What is that?” The solar princess hid her grin beneath her mask as the creature stiffened, eyes widening as its hand stilled over the raven. Arma, the small bird, perked its head up to the creature.

A silent moment passed between them, pregnant with pause. Celestia was not sure what to say next. The word the creature had let slip was clearly something it wished to avoid, but it meant little if the alicorn had no understanding of it. The creature, however, appeared to be equally as focused on what to say next. Though… it may soon prefer flight over words.

“Human is what I am not.” The suddenness of the words, following the creature’s stone-still stare and posture, nearly shocked the alicorn. It was only her focus on the matter at hoof that kept her from being so. “But rather, I am curious to see if it is what you are not.” As it spoke, its colored hand extended towards the alicorn, rotating until it stopped at a point. Celestia only swept her pink eyes over it before turning back to the creature.

“Give me your name.” She would have it now. Their conversation had been spun around too much for her taste, even on a pleasant day. She needed its name, and by the way it giggled at her words, retracting its arm in tangent, it would not comply.

“Oh names, such silly things to remember the past,” the creature wistfully spoke, as if recalling a far-off memory. Its head leaned back as it spoke, either shutting its eyes or staring at the ceiling above. “Such a tedious thing to dwindle over when we have a gift like the present. Wouldn’t you much rather wonder about why I am here, not who I am?”

“I am curious of all those things,” Celestia relented, but did not spin from the topic she wished to discuss. “I will need to know all those things, but your name for now will keep me from imprisoning you soon.”

It was a harsh demand, and the princess knew it. If not by the rarity in which she spoke the words, then by the way the creature quickly reeled back to her, rotating forwards until its wide eyes and just barely visible smirk were upon her. Its smile had shrunk considerably, but it was still far from gone. Only Arma, sitting on its gray hand, seemed non-complacent by the words, staring off into whatever space its red eyes allowed it.

“Imprison?” the creature repeated, either curious or shocked by the alicorn’s words. Both were good, together they were great, for Celestia in the least. “That is quite a way to get an answer from someone. Threatening them.” The thing giggled at the words, still amused by the princess, a sentiment Celestia did not share. The alicorn opened her jaw, ready to fulfill the threat it thought so humorously of, but stopped herself before the wisp of a breath was uttered.

Floating into the room, through the shut door and in the air, a long thread of green smoke appeared. It hovered between the alicorn and creature, filling the silence that had come up between the pair. Then, with a small flash, a letter appeared from the magical dust. Celestia caught in her magical aura in a half-a-second. In the same amount of time, she moved it to the side, not laying an eye upon its contents.

Instead, she kept her gaze on the creature, wary of what it would do should her attention be averted. Yet, be in spite of her concerns, it did not move in the slightest, already a facet that Celestia called uncharacteristic for the thing, so fluid with its movements while it spoke.

However, it simply narrowed its shallow eyes, the mismatched set looking at her. It was as if they were tempting her, biding her to turn away. Celestia merely narrowed her own eyes in turn, furrowing her already scrunched brow. Where she able to cast magic from them, she was sure should would have burned the creature asunder. She kept the idea aside, nearly sure she would have to sometime soon.

“Are you going to read that?” The creature finally spoke, its colored hand performing a needlessly over-motioned point towards the letter floating beside the princess. “Rather, how are you holding it like that? Where I am from, that would be considered magic, usually with strings and mirrors.” Its smile sharpened with every word, till the point Celestia swore it was a single curved line, accented by its equally piercing eyes.

“It is magic,” the solar princess answered, eyes not straying from the creature. She knew how to turn the question into her favor. “And I require no strings, mirrors, and hardly concentration to use it. Remember that well should you wish to continue this avoiding line of conversation.”

Where she to use such a line on any pony or creature of Equestria, Celestia was sure she would have struck the fear of ancient deities into their bones. For the creature, however, made of something she was sure was far from flesh and blood, it only made it shut its narrowed eyes, growing its grin to allow the high-pitched chuckling it was so fond of sharing. Patience is what kept Celestia’s own lips from forming a snarl.

Though the letter was out of sight, it was far from out of mind. It had come from Twilight, that much she knew, but she could not be certain as to its contents. It likely involved this creature, sent in the same manner as the letter itself, but what about it the princess did not know. Concerns for its safety? A message about an accidental fire? A warning? Celestia did not know and could not know unless she read it.

But, to read it meant that she would need to look away from the creature across from her. She didn’t assume for a moment that its shut eyes meant it was anything but prepared. Prepared for what, however, Celestia didn’t know. Perhaps it was desiring to flee, to turn its coat tails and run from her. Maybe to attack, a concern that Celestia was holding foremost in her mind. She could not ignore the possibility that she was merely overthinking the situation, a condition she thought more common when dealing with Discord, but caution is what allowed her kingdom to exist for over a thousand years.

There was one thing she could do, a precautionary act that many would take as an assumption of guilt. It was hardly used by the princess, least the most obvious or dire of circumstances come about. It was more common for the former Captain of the Guard to enact such a thing then herself, but Celestia was alone with a foreign creature and she could not afford to ignore potential information.

“Hold still,” she commanded, voice as hard as when she had spoken her threats. The creature’s giggling stopped as it looked up to her, hunched over as if to stifle its laugh. Its smile was more subdued, though still present, and its eyes drawn lazily. They were no longer sharp points, filled with malicious intent, but a lazy gaze she would sooner expect from an adolescent foal.

Those same eyes perked, however, as Celestia lowered her horn, focusing on the creature. Silently, perhaps trapped in its own thoughts, it tilted its head to the side, analyzing her. But before the alicorn gave it a moment more to do so, she lightly, but quickly, nodded her head at the thing.

A golden bubble of magic surrounded it in the blink of an eye.

Celestia allowed, just this once, a flash of mirth to take over her features. The shock in the creature’s eyes, momentarily abandoning the smile it loved to keep, was a gift she hadn’t realized she would enjoy. She watched as the creature’s mismatched gaze looked about the sphere it was trapped it, searching about it for a way out. Celestia knew none existed.

“Now,” she commanded, donning her mask of indifference once more, “be still. I will release you when, and if, it becomes evident you intend no harm.” At her words, the creature looked back to her, its smile once more being drawn across its features. Celestia preferred the thin line of shock she had spotted moments ago.

“Deary me,” it spoke following her words. “This is quite the trap you have here. I certainly have no way out of here, do I? Not unless your majesty would be so kind as to let me out.” It bowed lowly at the act, legs remaining stiff and straight as its torso became nearly parallel with the ground. The raven on its arm pounced off, making an impressive jump to the yellow top of the creature’s head. It made not a sound, and neither did the creature fixed in the position of prostration.

Celestia regarded the creature coolly for a second. It took imprisonment with far more cheer than any creature she had met before. Even Discord had his qualms of being locked away. Perhaps it enjoyed the idea of being trapped, saw a game in it where none was to be had. She dismissed the thoughts of the creature momentarily. It was trapped and she had an important letter to read.

Celestia levitated the letter to her gaze, already unfolded and text facing her. There were only a few words on it, fewer words than she had hooves. But the words alone made Celestia’s furrowed brow unravel, her eyes widen to their limits, and jaw part in shock.

Don’t Trust Karl

The next thing Celestia was aware of, a sword ripped through the letter.





“So you’ve never seen anything out of the ordinary here before?” Twilight posed the question aloud, not willing to crane her neck to the mare she spoke to. Rainbow Dash, situated on a cloud high above her, floated lazily by the lavender alicorn, wings beating for movement.

“Nope, sorry Twi,” the pegasus returned easily as ever. “This is the best track this side of Equestria for keepin’ my skills sharp, and the oddest thing I’ve ever seen ‘round here are a few gnarly thorns. Other than that, it’s just stone, stone, and maybe a little more stone on the side.” Twilight felt her eyes roll at the comment.

“Alright,” she acknowledged her friend, the pegasus’s sarcasm aside. “I was just hoping you may know of a good place to start looking for the professor. Princess Celestia was rather vague in her message.” The alicorn jumped over a spare boulder, an inconvenience in the middle of the road.

“So, par for the course then,” Rainbow Dash commented from above. This time, said mare turned a sour eye to her friend. All she saw was Rainbow lying backwards in the air, hooves behind her prismatic mane and wings lightly beating, keeping her afloat. Her eyes must have been burning on the cyan mare’s back, as Rainbow followed up on her comment. “I’m not saying anything bad about the princess, I just feel like we’re the ones just trying to figure out what she means half the time.”

“Well I think a much more appropriate analysis is that the princess doesn’t know any more than we do.” Twilight emphasized her words as she spoke, trying to correct the pegasus with halfhearted logic. “Maybe I should have just let you sleep the rest of the day.”

“Wouldn’t have minded that.” Rainbow snickered following her statement turning over mid-air until she was gazing down at the alicorn. Twilight scrunched her lips as she glowered in return. “Hey, don’t get me wrong, egghead. I love hangin’ out with you, but if you have the choice between sleeping for the day or searching for something you’re not even sure exists…”

“I’m rather sure the professor from Canterlot University exists, Rainbow Dash,” Twilight spoke in a way she hoped sounded reprimanding. Judging by the pouting lips on the pegasus, it probably came across more as foalish.

“Pretty sure she is too, but given how many times I’ve flown through this gorge and how little I’ve seen, don’t mind me if I have seconds thoughts about some ancient stuff being buried here or whatever.” The pegasus rolled her hoof around the gorge as she spoke, indicating the gray walls around them.

Twilight sighed, turning from the pegasus and focusing again on the trail. She didn’t want to admit it so readily, especially to a mare with an ego like Rainbow, but her friend was probably right. It was one thing to find something brand new, but it was another to find it in such a commonly visited place. It changed the odds from unlikely to nigh impossible.

She extended her wings as she hopped down from a small boulder, gently touching the ground. Her lavender eyes scanned the gorge again, seeing nothing new and nothing odd. There were still gnarled vines along the walls, creating a trap of sorts for the brave yet foolish creatures that attempted to move through them. There were still boulders to pebbles lining the crevices between the floor and wall of the canyon, the effects of weathering over hundreds of years. But there were no ponies, no equipment, and not a sign that any mare or stallion from here to the griffon lands had so much as visited.

The alicorn puckered her lips, annoyed at the block she had come across. Normally there was at least a small area for her to investigate, some subtle clue on where to go following duties handed down by the princess. But here, there was nothing, quite blatantly nothing.

“I don’t suppose you see anything new?” Twilight asked hopefully up to Rainbow, but let out a disgruntled sigh when she laid eyes on the pegasus. In between the alicorn’s thinking, the speedy mare had managed to snag a cloud from above, dragging it down to the gorge. Currently, she was lying on it like a bed, legs hanging over the edges and her eyes shut peacefully. Twilight resisted the urge to blast the cloud away.

But, rather due to being woken up or for humoring the egghead, Rainbow Dash opened her eyes lazily. Her pink gaze looked around, half-lidded and probably focused more on something in her head. Twilight took in a deep breath of air before turning away. She couldn’t fault the pegasus, not entirely. She was here out of a spur-of-the-moment decision on the alicorn’s part, not some long planned meeting.

“Wait.”

The word was muffled, being spoken through the soft cloud that Rainbow Dash lay on, but it was still clear enough for Twilight to make out. She stopped, looking back up at her airborne friend. She was momentarily surprised to see Dash not lazing on the pillow, but instead, sitting up with a critical look in her eyes.

They were furrowed, lidded still but with brows to match. Her lips were parted curiously, head leaning over the cloud as her hoofs supported her. It took Twilight a moment, but she quickly followed Rainbow’s gaze. She expected to see something obvious, something that only the racer’s famed abilities of memorization would have spotted, but Twilight didn’t see that.

Instead she just saw the wall of the gorge, the same chalky gray wall that had flanked them on either side since they entered the long canyon. It was not a shade darker, a tint lighter, or even smaller in any considerable fashion. It had the same rocks at its base, an odd boulder or two, but nothing compared to the dozen or so they had both seen throughout the canyon.

“Rainbow,” Twilight spoke to her friend. “What is it? Do you see something?” The pegasus was silent for a moment, not responding immediately. Then, with as much warning as was usual for her, she pounced off the cloud, wings beating with more grace than Twilight could muster as she landed on the ground. The pegasus’s pink gaze never left the the wall.

“This… before...” Her first word was muffled, but now she was just mumbling. It was odd, at least to Twilight. She was used to being the one accused of slurring her words mid-thought. Twilight was ready to ask her friend just what she was talking about, or at the very least to be clearer with her words, but she paused. Rainbow was no longer merely staring at the wall, she was moving her hooves over it.

Twilight watched, her curiosity growing quickly, as her cyan friend put her forehooves against the chalky side of the gorge. Dust and small pebbles clattered and fell away from the spots she leaned against, lightly clacking as they fell. Rainbow paid no attention to them. Instead, she kept pushing around the wall, over small portions that Twilight couldn’t discern being any different than any other part of the expansive gorge.

“Rainbow,” she spoke her friend’s name again, louder for emphasis. “What are you doing?” Now Dash stopped, turning to look at Twilight. She had a queer look in her gaze, as if she were obseriving a foreign object. Twilight knew the look was reserved for whatever she had found on the wall. The pegasus’s words made it clear.

“These cracks weren’t here before,” she spoke louder, easier for Twilight to hear. They made the alicorn blink. “At least, I’m pretty sure they weren’t. But I know this wasn’t here.” Rainbow indicated said item with a kick of her forehooves.

They beat on a large boulder lying against the wall.

Twilight stared at the rock, seeing it to be no different than any other boulder along the gorge’s walls. It wasn’t of any significantly larger or smaller size, wasn’t far away from any other eroding part of the canyon, and didn’t appear to be any shade of color different than the rest of the rocks.

By the alicorn’s eyes alone, there was nothing special there. But by Dash’s eyes, the memorizing gaze that Twilight had recruited her for, this was something that simply didn’t belong. And Twilight, if nothing else, always trusted her friends.

“Here,” she spoke to her friend, lightly motioning with a wave of her head. Dash backed off with a beat of her wings, taking to a low-altitude flight. Twilight wasted little time in lighting her horn. When she did, a cone of glittering light extended from it.

The cone landed on the boulder and wall, forming a shape similar to a flashlight. The lavender aura of her magic washed over the gray stone, twinkling the longer the alicorn used her magic. It didn’t take long for Dash to speak up.

“What are you doing?” It was a simple question, and one spoken without the usual brashness that accompanied the pegasus. Twilight was able to answer her easily.

“Sensing for any obvious irregularities in the stone.” She knew it wouldn’t be enough for the quick-witted but vocabulary-lacking mare. “It’s a spell we were taught to mimic an earth pony’s ability to sense the earth. Its secondary at best to what an earth pony like Applejack could really do, but it works in a…” Twilight’s words sputtered and died.

“In a what?” Dash asked, flapping her wings to get closer to the alicorn. Twilight didn’t respond, her magic fixed solely on the boulder, eyes staring at with equal parts of curiosity and shock. It was a look Dash had mixed feelings about, usually because it meant one of two things. Either she was about to hear a lecture worthy of Egghead University, or they were about to go on some kind of sweet adventure. The pegasus begged internally for the latter.

Twilight, still without saying a word, flashed her horn as she changed her magic. It went from a soft lavender light, twinkling like dawn’s break, to a single focused ray pointed squarely at the boulder. With a single flick of her head, Twilight lifted the gray boulder into the air, freeing it from the confines of the wall. And then, with just as much warning, she set the rock down behind the pair, booming indignantly with its ungraceful placement.

Dash normally would have commented on how cool Twilight’s magic was, seeing her friend use it for something practical so rarely. Usually it was for writing, reading, or moving glass jars around her lab. It was always a treat to see her royal friend use it an impressive new display. Normally, she would have commented on this. Now, however, she did not.

Rainbow’s gaze, as well as Twilight’s, was focused on the opening in the gorge wall.

“That… That’s new.” Dash spoke with a motion of her hoof, blinking as well. “Yeah, that definitely wasn’t there before. Or the rock, but the hole is… yeah.” Eloquent as ever, Twilight agreed with her prismatic friend. “You… you think the professor’s in there?”

“Maybe,” the alicorn let out with a nod of her head. She stopped, puckering her lips as she shut her eyes. Her mind was working on a timeline of events, the likelihood of the professor’s arrival, hidden excavation, and general disappearance. When she spoke again, she amended her deduction. “Definitely.”

“Kay, just making sure we’re on the same page,” Rainbow spoke in response, seemingly agreeing with her lavender friend. “Guess that means we’re going spelunking, huh?” She let out a nervous chuckle, pitifully weak and forced. It wasn’t a mystery for Twilight as to why.

Going inside the new hole in the gorge meant going underground. Underground, where it was hard to move quickly and even harder to fly, the two things Dash almost required in order to function. That and sleep, but the alicorn had less sympathy for her friend’s near-narcoleptic tendencies.

Still, that didn’t detract from the very real fact at hoof. Dash hated going underground, Twilight had to go underground to look for the professor, and if Dash followed her, she would be forcing her cyan friend to do something she hated. The Princess of Friendship was not having any of that.

“You can stay here, Dash,” Twilight spoke easily to her friend, wearing a genuine smile as she looked up at her friend. Dash looked back with a bewildered expression instead. “You’ve already helped me out a great deal. I should be able to handle it from here.”

“Uh, yeah, no.” Dash’s response was as quick to Twilight as it was surprising. “Seriously think I’m gonna just fly from this? C’mon, we’ve taken on the freaking spirit of chaos! I think I can handle trotting into a little hole.”

“This isn’t a matter of security for the kingdom Rainbow,” Twilight amended her words to the pegasus. “It’s just a favor for the princess. There isn’t any need for you to make yourself uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, cause I’m totally gonna feel right as rain leaving you alone to walk into a deep hole. Sleep like a foal,” Rainbow scoffed at her last statement, wearing her signature smirk as she finished. “No, seriously Twi, I’m coming. And stopping making it a big deal. I’m just not gonna leave a friend hangin’. You know that better than most ponies.”

Truthfully, Twilight did. It just took Rainbow’s words to slap the sense into the alicorn. She felt a guilty blush on her cheeks at the quick reminder. Just because they didn’t have their elements didn’t mean Dash was any less loyal.

“Okay, alright,” the alicorn spoke with a nod of her head, smiling up at her friend. Dash’s smirk deepened in return, her pride visible with the expression. “It shouldn’t take too long anyways, if it’s not dangerous.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Dash asked as she landed on the ground, already mid-trot to the hole. “Danger’s my middle name!” Before Twilight could roll her eyes, the cyan mare had disappeared into the wall, her prismatic mane and tail vanishing into the darkness. Twilight quickly followed behind.