Faithful
Twilight sat on the steps of the cathedral, her cloak drawn tight around her shoulders. She stared out across the hard floor of the cavern. With her night-blessed eyes, she could see as if it were day wherever moonlight struck, even after being dispersed by rocky surfaces. Corpses lay strewn across a killing field. Blood coated the very steps she sat on. It was if a farmer had scattered bits of pony across the stones like seeds – a bat wing here, a head there.
The Slayer, Twilight thought. That’s what Luna had called it; the part of her that hungered. I could have done a better job. She swallowed, suddenly uncomfortable at the quiet thought. Still, with two well-placed Death spells and a Shield, she could have left an equal amount of corpses with considerably less of a mess.
She closed her eyes. The more she thought about it, the louder the echoes of what the Slayer had done – what she had done – became. She remembered being it. Through its eyes, she saw a chilling, cold perspective of ruthless efficiency, but through her own, she saw what the slaughter truly was: a desperate, dying creature lashing out at whatever happened to be in reach.
The futility of the massacre chilled her to the core. One side fled like rabbits before a wolf, hopelessly outclassed, the other killed out of an irrational compulsion. None of it mattered. The only way she would ever be whole again was finding Trixie.
Is that what I am? Twilight wondered. A desperate, dying creature? If the bit Trixie left behind ebbs away, will it take my soul with it?
How long do I have left?
“Do not mourn them, Chosen,” a voice said from beside her. It belonged to the High Priestess, the pony that had confronted her on the spidersilk bridge with a drawn bow. “Their deaths were valiant. They gave their lives to protect our holy ground.”
Pointlessly, Twilight thought, fleeing before death itself. She glanced over at the Priestess. “What do you think happens to them?”
The Priestess raised a brow. The elegant poise of her expression reminded Twilight of Rarity. A narrow horn split her flowing silver mane. “After death?” Her blue, slit-pupiled eyes regarded Twilight. “I do not think, I know. They become one with the Lord.”
Twilight blinked. A scene from her nightmares jumped to mind. She remembered black-feathered wings stretching across the sky studded with countless red eyes, the shadow of a creature in each. She shivered.
Behind Twilight, Applejack snorted. “That’s one way of putting it. If by becoming one with the Lord, you mean joining Celestia in the heavens.”
Twilight glanced over her shoulder in time to catch Rarity shooting Applejack a glare. “Of course, there’s no way of really knowing exactly what it means to pass on,” Rarity said.
The Priestess blinked, looking troubled. She remained focused on Twilight, not looking at Applejack. “You surfacers have a rather depressing view of things, if all souls are cursed to such a place, even the noble ones.”
“Course we know,” Rainbow Dash said, her head twisted back as she inspected one of her bat-wings. “I mean, Twilight used to write Celestia letters like, all the time. She talks to ponies.”
The Priestesses eyes narrowed. She watched the conversation with interest. Twilight drew her legs closer.
“Yes, but why not let us to speak to the deceased, if only for one last time,” Rarity said. “I think it’s more complicated than some pristine, endless pasture in the sky.”
Rainbow Dash flicked her wings in an agitated flap. “Really? I thought we all pranced on the clouds.” She tapped her hoof to her chin. “Oh wait, I do that already.” She turned her attention back to her wings. “Of course it’s complicated, but everypony knows Celestia watches over them. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be so busy that she needs ponies like Twilight to kill Demons for her, she’d just do it herself.”
“You gotta admit, Rarity, she has a point,” Applejack said.
“I just hope it’s nice and peaceful,” Fluttershy said from next to Rarity. She glanced back at her wings with interest.
Rarity sighed. “Sure. But at least try to consider other points of view. We aren’t in Ponyville, are we?”
“I get it,” Pinkie said, hanging from the top of the doorway’s arch from her magical shoes. “A table is a table, but when you look at it from the top and close one eye its pretty much just a board.”
Rainbow Dash fixed Pinkie with an unblinking stare for a couple of seconds. “Weird. I think I actually understood that.” She looked at Twilight, then spread her wings. “So, how pernament is this bat-pony thing? I mean, these things are sweet, and they’re super quiet, but I’ll never be able to go as fast as I could with feathers.”
Twilight shrugged. “I think we’ll have to free Luna to find out.”
“It appears the world outside has truly been corrupted by the Traitor,” The Priestess said. “At least you’re here for the right purpose.”
Twilight squinted at movement in the distance. She made out a line of armored ponies approaching the Cathedral. Glaives floated in auras of magic around them. She reached for her swords.
The Priestess touched her shoulder. “Stay your wrath, Chosen. They are your honor guard, here to escort us to Brokenstar.”
In the midst of the procession, Twilight slid up beside the Priestess. The clank of metal on metal accompanied the beat of hooves on stone around her. The honor guard was exclusively Unicorn. She caught several of them giving Applejack odd looks.
“Chosen, Traitor, Lord,” Twilight said. “I’m the Chosen, probably because Luna transformed me into one of you, so that makes me somehow special. If the Traitor is Celestia, that makes Azrael Lord.”
The Priestess hissed. “Do not speak God’s name. God is pure, and one should not utter His name with impure thoughts in their mind.”
Twilight blinked. “Oookay. Regardless, help me understand. Why do you call Celestia Traitor?”
“Celestia believed that she could care for ponies better than our Lord. In her vanity, she sided with chaos against Him and very nearly destroyed the world,” the Priestess said. “I wonder what lies her Clerics preach on the surface to have your companions so convinced she is some force for good.”
“And Luna stayed true to Az... God,” Twilight said.
The Priestess shot her a glare. “Yes. Celestia won the battle, defeated our Lord, imprisoned Luna, and brought the Time of Troubles upon us. Shining cities fell beneath shifting sands and boiling oceans. Don’t you know of this?”
Twilight glanced at the cave floor. Sounds about right, she thought. “What about the part where Celestia fought Discord for about two hundred years to save us all?”
“Chaos turned on the Traitor,” the Priestess said with a dismissive shrug. “God blessed her with the power to unite ponies and build an ideal society, and she threw it all away for her pride.”
“And what if she believed she was doing the right thing?” Twilight said.
“Villains usually do,” the Priestess said. She eyed Twilight. “Do you know how many ponies are alive right now?”
“The scholar and traveller Pathfinder the Wise put the figure at half a billion,” Twilight said.
“Before the Time of Troubles, there were six billion ponies in Equestria,” the Priestess said. “How could destruction on such a scale be justified?”
Twilight gasped. “You have records! Where?!” She paused, reeling her excitement back in. Six Billion... The figure seemed outlandish. Still, it was possible. She tried to imagine the web of connections she’d witnessed, except amplified by six billion souls. The ley lines must have roared with power. Was killing Azrael really worth it?
The corner of the Priestess’s mouth twitched in a small smile. “We have records of times passed, but I only have your word on the world today, Chosen. We are an artifact of a bygone era, locked away with our goddess.”
“Chosen,” Twilight said. She yawned widely in the middle of her sentence. “What does that mean, exactly?”
“That you will deliver us from the Traitor’s curse,” the Priestess said.
A shout of alarm reached Twilight’s ears. “Nightmares!” All around her, the guards burst into motion. She turned, grasping her swords with her magic, and met the glowing yellow eyes of a shade of a pony. She froze.
A tendril of shadow creeped toward her. Inwardly, she screamed, Move! Nothing happened. She remained a prisoner in her own mind, her swords halfway out of their sheaths.
A white line shot across her vision and passed through the shade, leaving a swirl of shadowy mist that rapidly dissolved. The Priestess stood with her bow drawn beside her. “Do not allow them a foothold in your mind!” she shouted. “The nightmares consume with their touch!” Her eyes glowed. With one hoof, she reached out and touched Twilight.
Suddenly, a startling clarity fell over Twilight. She began to form a spell. Moving forward, she met the eyes of another shade. She could feel something pushing against her mind, but whatever the Priestess had done protected her. In its shadowy tendrils, the Nightmare held one of the guards. The unicorn slumped in its grasp, staring blankly through the eye slit in her helm.
Twilight completed her spell, Improved Haste, as the Nightmare dropped the unicorn gaurd and turned on her. Tendrils quested toward Twilight. Slashing, she cleared her path. The edges of her magic blades sliced through the shadows. The separated bits of tendril writhed in the air before dissolving.
She split the shade’s head with Celestial Fury as she swept past, unnaturally quick. She’d moved out beyond the envelope of security provided by the honor guard. Several shades glided toward her, seeking. She began another spell.
With a sonic crack, Truthseeker obliterated one of the Nightmares. Crystalline arrows followed, buying her a precious second. Twilight glanced over her shoulder. Her friends positioned around Fluttershy, within a glowing green circle on the cave floor. The druid’s eyes glowed with power. Around Twilight, the shades closed in. A moment before their tendrils reached her, she finished her spell.
A ring of flame rolled out from Twilight’s hooves. Sunfire purged the shadows, leaving only ash in its wake. The blaze forced Twilight’s night-enhanced eyes shut. She cracked them open as the brightness receded. She turned, swords ready. No more Nightmares remained to face her.
A shout rang down the line, repeated by each that heard it. “Regroup!”
Twilight walked with a ragged column through a towering polished gate of metal. Inside the walls of Brokenstar, gossamer paths of spider silk hung between towering natural spires. An earth pony with a dark grey coat and slitted yellow eyes led a chittering giant spider out of the path of the soldiers, clearing the ground-level street leading from the gate into the city.
The Priestess gestured at the walls. “Moonsilver keeps the Nightmares at bay. We work it into all of our fortifications.”
Twilight nodded. She blinked heavy eyes, plodding on behind the Priestess. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate on much of anything. The urge to sleep dragged at her. Sooner or later, I’m going to have to test Luna’s word, Twilight thought.
“Regardless,” the Priestess said, “you have proven quite adept at combating the Nightmare. Perhaps recovering the Star will not be as challenging for you as I first thought, Chosen.”
Pinkie nudged Twilight in the shoulder. “This place is weird,” she whispered. With a hoof, she drew Twilight’s attention to earth ponies bowing low at the edge of the road as the honor guard passed. One of them looked up, and a unicorn standing on the side of the street rapped him viciously on the head with the butt of a stave. He yelped, and cowered. Twilight lunged forward.
“Uh, maybe we should try to blend in?” Pinkie said.
Twilight hardly heard her. She ripped the stave from the unicorn’s magic and snapped it in half. As she tossed the fragments into the street, she shouted, “What is this nonsense!”
The Priestess approached her. She raised a hoof in a placating gesture. “They are dirtborn, Chosen. It is their place. I understand that you hail from a land of corruption, and would not understand our customs, but please, try not to make a scene,” she said in a hushed tone.
“They’re a what now?” Applejack said, a few paces back.
Twilight growled and stepped forward. The guttural, primal sound that emerged from her chest almost surprised her. “Tradition is no justification for cruelty.” She turned, surveying the kneeling ponies. “Rise! If anypony harms you, I will do ten times worse to them!”
“So this is your exalted Chosen, High Priestess?” a masculine voice called.
Twilight turned to the speaker. He stood tall in the middle of the street, deep, night-blue hair crowning his narrow features. A silver-embroidered robe wrapped his body. A thin horn protruded from his forehead. From his side hung a sword with a whisper-thin blade. Out of the corner of her eye, Twilight noticed that the earth ponies remained kneeling.
“And who the hell are you?!” Twilight shouted.
“Yes, Moonstrike, this is she,” the Priestess said.
“The last one wasn’t good enough for you, was she?” Moonstrike said. He glid forward, his robes brushing the street. “I can’t see what makes this one so special.”
Twilight groaned and rubbed her temple with a hoof. I’m too tired for politics. Her ears perked. Wait, last one?
“She was touched by the Moon!” the Priestess shouted. “You doubt the word of our goddess?”
“Ah, so she is a surfacer, and she carries the blade of the Traitor. So the rumors are true.” Moonstrike said. “And you expect us to accept your judgment, High Priestess? Do you fear change so much that you must peddle falsehood when our deliverance is at hand? I suppose you’re going to tell me that she needs my sword to go recover the Star.”
“She does,” the Priestess said. “Will you deny your oath, Champion?”
Moonstrike snorted. “The true Chosen said my blade was not needed. The Star does not need to be recovered. If your impostor wants Eclipse, she can fight me for the honor, as any other pony would.”
“Shut up,” Twilight said. She pointed at Moonstrike. “You! You said something important. There was another Chosen?”
Moonstrike cocked a foreleg. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Twilight said.
Moonstrike narrowed his eyes. “Can I interpret this as a challenge?”
“Sure, whatever,” Twilight said. “Just answer the question.”
“Very well,” Moonstrike spun on his heels. “I will see you in the ring in thirty minutes.”
Beside Twilight, the Priestess shook her head sadly. “You should not have agreed to fight him, Chosen. I could have pressured him into giving you the blade.”
“What in Equestria are you talking about?” Twilight said.
From the midst of the halted honor guard, Rarity stepped forward. “I think you just agreed to a duel.”
“She did?” Rainbow Dash said. “Sweet! Kick his flank, Twilight!”
“Fantastic,” Twilight muttered. She turned to the Priestess. “There was another Chosen?”
The Priestess nodded. “I will explain later. We need to prepare for the duel. He gave us a rather tight timeline.” She took off down one of the streets, leaving the honor guard behind. “This way.”
Sitting on a bench in a dim stone chamber, Twilight took a deep drink from a waterskin. “Moonstrike was chosen at a very young age to be our Champion. He has been trained by our best, and he can perform both divine and arcane magic. I am afraid he will be more than a match for you,” the Priestess said. Nopony else was in the room with them. Allegedly, only the Priestess was allowed to help her prepare, and Twilight didn’t have the energy to argue.
“Uhuh,” Twilight said, lowering the waterskin. “So, I get five spells before the fight even starts? And everything is allowed? Swords and spells and whatever else?”
The Priestess heaved a heavy sigh. “Be careful, Chosen. He will not hold back. You are a threat to his position. While killing in a duel like this is frowned upon, I believe he will take the opportunity.”
The key to victory in a Wizard’s Duel is establishing a checkmate scenario. Eliminate your opponent's options, and seize the opportunities provided, Twilight thought, a quote from an old book coming to mind. It was wrong, of course – mostly nonsense. “A battle between spellcasters happens in a flash and is won and lost in an instant. Do not expect to be able to react to your opponent's spells; things often happen simply too quickly. Victory comes only with careful preparation and a well executed plan,” she said.
“Wise words. Who said them, one of your surface magi?” the Priestess said.
Twilight nodded. “Star Swirl the Bearded.” She smiled. “Don’t worry about me. He may have a few years on me, but I was taught by the best, and I’ve killed things far older than him.” She slid off the bench. “How much longer?” she asked, approaching the metal grate that separated her from the fighting ring. Directly across from her, she glimpsed Moonstrike gazing back at her.
“Not long,” the Priestess said. “You’d best cast your spells.”
Twilight planted her hooves on the edge of a metal ring set in a stone floor. Moonstrike faced her from across the ring. A whisper thin rapier floated in front of him. A grey layer of stone covered him from head to toe. A shimmering barrier tinted the air around him.
“Three,” an announcer said, standing on a raised dais above the ring.
Twilight shifted, going over her first spell in her mind.
“Two.”
Twilight had cast Spell Immunity: Abjuration, Globe of Invulnerability, Non-Detection, and Stoneskin before the duel began.
“One.”
Across from her, she noted Globe of Invulnerability, and Stoneskin. He’d neglected to use his other two spells, or they lacked any visible markers.
“Begin!”
Immediately, she moved forward into the ring, her horn flaring with power. Her counterpart’s horn did the same, though he circled cautiously, keeping his hooves on the metal rim of the ring. Silent observers on a level above watched, slit-pupiled eyes on the two combatants.
She finished her spell first. Her hooves beneath her winked out of existence as a shroud of invisibility fell over her. She took a step to the side. From Moonstrike’s horn, a magical pulse flowed. It washed over her harmlessly, warded away by her immunity to Abjuration.
Dispel Magic, she thought. It made sense. Even with spells cast in preparation, they would quickly be stripped away in this kind of fight. Fortunately, she’d come ready for anything another Wizard could throw at her.
Twilight waited, stock still. He blinked, then squinted. He halted on the edge of the ring, his foreleg cocked. “How?” he finally said.
“Do we really have to do this?” Twilight said. “I’m functionally invincible.”
Furrowing his brows, Moonstrike flared his horn. She took three steps left. His spell completed. Blindingly bright flecks filled the air to her right. The ponies observing the duel cried out and adverted their eyes. Twilight didn’t even flinch. Her Globe of Invulnerability muted the magical light. Normally, the dust would make even an invisible spellcaster stand out. However, he hadn’t centered the spell carefully enough on her last known position to catch her within the cascade of dust.
Glitterdust, Twilight thought. Simple, but effective. “Forfeit,” she said as she closed the gap between them. “You’ve already lost.”
He snorted. “Impossible.” His eyes glowed pure white. “I am the Moon’s champion!” Power crackled in the air around him. Between Twilight and Moonstrike, a lupine creature of flaring white light snapped into existence.
Twilight picked up speed, her hooves muted on the stone. She slid her swords from their sheaths. He’d summoned some sort of divine guardian. Before it could move, she sheared through it with Solstice as she rushed by, sparing it from Celestial Fury’s deadly edge.
Moonstrike’s horn flared with another spell. A cloak of darkness fell around his shoulders. He loomed. A word echoed through Twilight’s mind. Fear!
Black wings.
Twilight backpedaled, her eyes going wide. She tripped over her own hooves. Her shoulder connected with the ground, though she did not feel the impact. A laugh filled her ears. Sunset Shimmer’s laugh. Trixie’s laugh. An Alicorn stood over her, ebon-feathered wings spread wide.
Twilight screamed. She whirled both of her swords through the air in flailing strokes, striking an unyielding surface. Her pulse pounded with desperation as she rolled to her feet. Something caught Solstice and twisted, sending the blade spinning away. She turned all her focus to Celestial Fury and brought it down in an overhead chop.
Her blade struck the figure’s head, then stopped dead, robbed of inertia before it could slice through by some unseen barrier. She hit again as she took another stumbling step back. A piercing pain lanced through her shoulder. She swished Celestial Fury through the air in front of her. A whisper of resistance met her swing.
Screaming again, Twilight raised Celestial Fury over her head for another stroke. A severed foreleg hit the stone floor with a dull thump, followed by the clatter of a rapier. All that stood in front of her was Moonstrike, his eyes wide. He wavered, stumbling sideways on three legs, then fell.
Twilight stood there panting, her sword raised high. She blinked back tears. Just a spell, she thought. He’d used a fear spell, one powerful enough that Globe of Invulnerability couldn’t stop it. Heart racing, she plunged Celestial Fury into the stone and took a step backwards. “You idiot,” she said.
The High Priestess jumped into the arena. She rushed toward the fallen champion. Twilight turned away, heading for her side of the ring. She took a step forward. A spear of pain shot through her shoulder. She fell. This time, she felt the impact. Her Stoneskin was gone; he must have hit her several times during the fear spell’s effect.
For a moment, she lay there, her teeth gritted in agony. A warm trickle made its way down her foreleg. She twisted her head, looking over her shoulder. The Priestess’s eyes glowed. From silver moonlight, a restored leg materialized from Moonstrike’s severed stump. Darkness closed in on the edges of Twilight’s vision. She struggled to cling to consciousness.
Why isn’t anypony helping me? Twilight thought. Then, she realized her shoulder wasn’t there. She ended her Invisibility. Her body materialized. A line of blood down her foreleg trailed back to a stab wound in her shoulder. With her good foreleg, she pushed herself into a sitting position, another wave of lightheadedness washing over her as she shifted..
Within seconds, Fluttershy landed beside her. With a touch of her hooves, she sent healing magic into Twilight. Groaning, Twilight climbed to her feet. “I could have killed you!” she shouted at Moonstrike. “And if I had, it would have been your fault!”
“How?” Moonstrike said, staring dumbfounded at his rapier on the floor of the arena. “Dispel should have purged your invisibility. The Power Word should have made you cower, instead of fight. You should be dead!”
“The fight was over before it started,” Twilight said. Finding her footing, she took a step toward Moonstrike. “I was taught magic by the greatest Archmage since the Time of Troubles, Star Swirl the Lichslayer, with full access to the largest archive of knowledge in Equestria. I have slain Dragons and Demons. I brought the best laid plans of a demigod to ruin. I have been torn apart a hundred times in dark dreams by a remorseless demon, fought it in the prison of my mind, and consumed its essence. I have walked on the black plain of the Abyss with the Aspect of Chaos and spoken to the Sun while I stood on the sky. And, in my nightmares, I have seen God.” She smiled. “I should be death itself, but I’m not, and I don’t plan on following the rules anytime soon.”
Moonstrike stared up at her, his mouth open.
She reached out and patted Moonstrike on the shoulder. “You came closer to killing me than most.” She glanced down at the rapier, and picked it up in her levitation. Its hilt was silver, but otherwise, its construction was simple and unornamented. “Is this Eclipse? Is it mine now?”
She looked up, expecting an answer. All around her ponies stared: the spectators, the Priestess, Moonstrike, and her friends. “And, uh, sometimes when you get really tired you say crazy things!” Twilight said. “I haven’t slept in about four days!” Chuckling nervously, she pointed herself toward the edge of the ring. “I need a nap. Applejack, if I start killing everyone, stop me.” She snatched up her swords, all three, and bolted.
Twilight languished beneath a tree in Candlekeep’s garden. Too relaxed to bother with levitation, she flipped the page of the book in front of her with the tip of her hoof. As the wind rippled through the branches above her, the shadows of leaves danced on the page. Due to the play of light distracting her, she almost didn’t notice the aura of magic enveloping the the book.
The book shot away from her. Reflexively, she snatched at it, but as it drifted further away her grasp weakened. “Hey!” she shouted, standing, as the book vanished around a hedge.
Star Swirl stepped out from behind the bush, a grey robe flowing with his movements. He didn’t wear the yellow standard to the scholars of Candlekeep. “Martial Handbook for Unicorn Duelists,” he said, eying the title on the spine of the book floating in front of him. “A bit of light reading in the Garden?”
Twilight sat on her haunches and hooved the dirt, her brows furrowing. “Yes, and I was quite content until you came along.”
Star Swirl chuckled. He still had the book open to the page she was on. Hardly even glancing at it, he said, “It says here that levitation strength diminishes as a cube of the distance between the Unicorn’s horn and the affected object.” He stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Sounds about right.”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “You’re doing it again. I’m not a filly. That doesn’t work on me anymore.”
Star Swirl blinked. “Humm? What do you mean?”
Twilight groaned. “Come on! Its just like that time you told me I could always find north in the woods because moss grows on the north side of the trees!”
“Doesn’t it?” Star Swirl said.
“Yes, but it also grows on all the other sides, so you can’t find north! And I catalogued every tree in the garden! I even made a graph!” Twilight said. “I was so excited that I proved you wrong!”
Star Swirl smiled. “And you never forgot the experience, did you?” He glanced skyward. “How many years ago was that?” Staring up at the branches, he murmured, “How the years fly.”
Twilight glared at Star Swirl. “That’s no excuse to toy with a little filly’s emotions! Three times! When you knew the real answer all along!”
“Maybe I was teaching you to recognize patterns,” Star Swirl said with a smirk, a twinkle in his eyes.
Twilight huffed and glanced down, blood warming her cheeks. “Anyway, thanks for telling me that the author’s statement isn’t strictly true.”
Star Swirl’s smile widened. “You mean you haven’t already figured it out?”
“Sort of. There seems to be a threshold. For me, it's at about four or five hoofspans, but after that, I get weaker. But I couldn’t keep the force consistent.” She lifted a pebble next to a flower bed she knew was fifteen hoofspans away and eyed it, watching how fast it rose. “How do I know how hard I’m pushing? The rate that the pebble rises seems to fall off a lot less steeply than the formula would predict, but I’m pretty sure I’m compensating by pushing harder.”
“Hence the mystery,” Star Swirl said. “Levitation force is a difficult thing to calculate. Usually, it’s measured by seeing how heavy an object needs to be before a unicorn can no longer lift it at a given distance, but, like pushing something with your hooves, sometimes you’re going to be stronger. There’s too many variables to ensure consistency across each sample. However, across a large number of samples, the formula is mostly accurate, minus the issue of the threshold you mentioned.”
“The book also says that unicorns should always use lighter weapons, because they give a reach advantage,” Twilight said. She eyed Star Swirl. “Is that true?”
Star Swirl’s smile fell. “Sure,” Star Swirl said. “But, if you’re looking for range, you might as well use a bow. It stores energy close to you, then unleashes it.”
Twilight shrugged. “Flesh isn’t particularly durable. You don’t need that much force to kill a pony. The book recommends a small sword or a rapier, for quick, deadly thrusts at a distance.”
Star Swirl shifted, glancing away. “I think the author is focused on a rather narrow form of combat; a duel between noble unicorns. They forgo armor, because a true wizard would never wear it, and they’re attempting to emulate individuals far more capable than they are.”
“So, what kind of sword did you use?” Twilight said.
Star Swirl chuckled, his smile returning. “I carried a medium-weight spellblade designed primarily for slashing, though I mostly used it for its spell-storing properties. I think I parried with it once or twice, only to have it knocked out of my grasp. Most of the time, I used a nice sturdy stave. It was a lot easier block with properly.” He shook his head. “Multitasking was never my strong suit, and if I was desperate enough, I could pull the sword out for a quick slash. Slashing is a lot easier when you’re panicking.”
Twilight’s eyes widened. “You panicked?! The book says never to panic!”
Star Swirl nodded. “Its a good plan, not panicking, but so often, things don’t go the way we planned.” He stared at the branches of the tree again. “Let me tell you a story.”
Twilight gave him a flat stare. “You didn’t go and rob another book, did you?”
Star Swirl shook his head. “No, not this time. This one is about the four ponies that went into the lair of a Lich, and the three that were lucky enough to walk out alive.”
Twilight clamped her mouth shut, her ears perking. It wasn’t often that Star Swirl told her about his past. She listened with rapt attention as he began the story.
“Somewhere, beneath a deep, dark forest not so far from here, a Paladin, a Wizard, a Cleric, and a Ranger walked through the depths of an ancient tomb, believing for all the world that they were hunting something dark and evil. Each carried a pendant shaped like a dagger–a truelance. They would wound the Lich unfailingly, but each could only be used once. It would take at least two to kill the Lich. One was a gift from the Sun, but they scoured Equestria for years to find the other three. They’d identified the Lich’s phylactery through extensive research on the pony he once was, and they knew the lifeless bones of the pony that was once his wife housed his soul. They’d already dug up her grave, located beneath hundreds of years of overgrowth, and purified the bones. All they had to do was kill the Lich, and it would be gone for good.
“The plan, sound, but in reality, evil hunted them. Shades lurked the Catacombs. Death. The four purged them with fire and sunlight. But the shades drew their attention from the true threat. The Lich rippled out of a portal in front of the Ranger. From his skeletal mouth, he screamed shadow. Only a Death Ward cast by the Cleric well in advance saved the Ranger’s life. With knives of magical fear echoing in her mind, the Ranger activated her truelance. Screaming, the Lich vanished, turning invisible. No weapon nor spell we possessed could harm it, but the Truelance burned even the void that formed it. For a moment, I think it knew fear.
“Unfortunately, nopony was ready to hit the Lich before it could vanish. To this day, it is hard to say what happened next. One moment, the Wizard saw a black mist spilling around a corner where the Lich was casting a spell. The next, the Lich was in front of him, the Truelance that should have been around his neck floating in its magical grasp, and the Cleric’s broken body was falling to the floor.
“With a cry of rage and passion, the Paladin activated her Truelance. The Lich crumpled, its bones falling into a pile on the ground, and for a moment, they thought it was over. The Wizard noticed that his Truelance still floated in the Lich’s magic. The Lich’s skull levitated up off the floor, eyes ablaze with voids, and the wizard’s Truelance shattered into a thousand pieces. The Ranger dove for the Truelance around the dead Cleric’s neck, and the Wizard took one panicked slash with the sword he barely knew how to use. Even though the slash didn’t hurt the Lich, it’s skull spun, buying a precious moment, and in that moment, the Ranger hit it with the third Truelance. In a matter of seconds, one of their own lay dead, and they’d slain the Lich.
“In the end, the Ranger blamed herself for striking too soon, and vanished into the Everfree. The Paladin raised the Cleric’s unborn child, and for a time, the Wizard made it his purpose to ensure such darkness could never arise again.”
Stoic throughout the story, Star Swirl’s face fell at the end, and he looked at the ground and breathed a heavy sigh.
“How did he make sure that it wouldn’t happen again?” Twilight asked.
“By killing ponies,” Star Swirl said. He focused on Twilight. “Life is a precious thing, Twilight. There is something strong in everypony that shines through evil we are prone to. I stopped believing in that strength, that light, but I found it again in the most unlikely of places.” He smiled softly. “We are too good to be evil, and too evil to be good.”
A soft, melodious laugh flowed on the breeze, and for a moment, Twilight glimpsed a flash of silver light. Suddenly uneasy, Twilight stood, looking around at the edges of the garden. The more she focused, the more details eluded her. “We’re not alone,” she said to Star Swirl, but when she glanced back at him, he was gone.
Twilight pulled Solstice and Celestial Fury from their sheaths. You didn’t have those yet. “Star Swirl!” she shouted. Death took him.
The Black Knight loomed in front of her, his monolithic shield floating between them, blood dripping from its edge. Roaring, she lunged forward, and lashed out with Celestial Fury. Her blade sang violet as it seared through the shield. As the broken halves flew away, the Black Knight stumbled back. She tore the helmet from his head.
Her own face stared back at her. As she watched, she changed. Voids filled her eyes. Rippling black fur replaced her lavender coat. Her muzzle shifted, becoming lupine. Stark white bony blades pierced through her flesh from beneath along the length of her forelegs while her hooves morphed into claws.
“Stop!” A deep, powerful voice said.
Echos of moonlight washed away the visage Twilight saw of herself. An Alicorn strode into view, trailing silver chains, her mane and tail stretching out into a swath of the starry night sky behind her. Her eyes glowed with pure white light. She took another step, then staggered. As she stumbled, she shrank. The sky trailing from her mane faded, leaving behind only short blue strands.
“Sorry,” Luna said. “You were sleeping so peacefully.”
Twilight slowly eased herself into a sitting position, a newfound sense of calm washing over her. “So you really can stop it?”
Luna nodded. “Dreams are my domain, and I’m making sure you stay dreaming. The Slayer uses the opportunity of your unconsciousness to emerge, and in order to suppress it, all I need to do is make sure you stay truly asleep.”
Twilight narrowed her eyes. “It’s been awhile since I’ve had anything but nightmares, but I don’t seem to remember reliving my memories every time I slept.”
Luna sat down across from her. “Indeed.” She glanced down. “I was curious.” An image of Star Swirl formed beside her, lifelike but still. Luna turned to him. “He had an interesting way of putting things, didn’t he? I wish I’d had the chance to know him.”
Twilight frowned. “Don’t change the subject. Why go digging through my memories?!”
Luna glanced at Twilight and smiled softly. “To understand why my sister didn’t control your divine essence when she had the chance.”
“And do you understand?” Twilight asked. She gazed skyward, and found stars gleaming down from above. “Because I certainly don’t.”
Luna shook her head. “My sister always possessed an enviable quantity of hope. For a thousand years, I thought that she’d thrown away our chance to destroy Azrael for me. Now, I see she threw it away for a glimmer of possibility.”
“What exactly is she hoping for, that I’ll replace Azrael?” Twilight said.
“Probably,” Luna said.
Twilight sighed. “I fail to see how that would be an improvement. And, how would that even work? Azrael is unlike anything else.” She frowned. “And why doesn’t Celestia just explain things! Why all the secrets!”
Luna nodded. “She does that.”
“Why!?”
“Celestia thinks she knows you well enough to predict what you will do,” Luna said. “She tells you exactly what she thinks you need to know.”
Twilight snorted. “That’s absurd. Right now, all she’s done is infuriate me.”
“Tell me about it,” Luna said, grinning.
Twilight focused on Luna. “Why did you do it?”
“Like I said, I was curious,” Luna said. “I wanted to know a bit about the pony I asked to kill me.”
Twilight shook her head. “No, I meant, why did you try to kill Azrael?”
“To save ponies,” Luna said.
Twilight furrowed her brows. “That’s not an answer. He kept the world stable, didn’t he? Your Priestess said there were billions of ponies alive before you fought him.”
Luna sighed. “There were.” She looked up at the sky. “We spent many years leading them into the light. With them, we built a civilization. It took us all that time to realize where they went when they died.”
Luna turned back to Twilight. “This world is a machine that Azrael built, churning its way toward an eventual solution. Every soul that it produced, He eagerly consumed, storing it away for some purpose. We chose to rebel, even when the consequences could be dire, because we were saving countless unmade souls from him. The billions that died after we acted linger in the Abyss, instead of being bound to His will.”
“How do you know being claimed by Azrael is a bad thing?” Twilight said.
Luna tapped her hoof on the ethereal ground. “Because it must be. Agony, or bliss, the dead were chained to the all-consuming will of of a being of pure, rigid order, robbed of any trace of freedom.”
Twilight shook her head. “I don’t see how an endless nothingness is any better.”
“Would you rather be an eternal slave or cease to be? Gilded or not, a cage will ever be a cage.”
Twilight glared at Luna. “And what gave you the right to make that choice for every pony that will ever be?”
“Twilight Sparkle, the few of us that stood up to Azrael were, and are gods, blessed to be extraordinary. We represented all of the power of life. To not act was to make a choice for every pony that will ever be. We were obligated to do what was right with the power we possessed. I imagine the power you hold has forced you to make choices you would rather not be obliged to make.”
“Still,” Twilight protested, “How did you know you weren’t condemning them to a worse fate? How do you know truly defeating Azrael wouldn’t destroy the world?”
Luna eyed Twilight and smiled softly. “Because we had faith. We believed in the unknown. We chose to place our trust not in a God we knew, but in infinite possibility. We didn’t know if it would even be possible to defeat Him, and to this day, we still don’t, but perhaps, one day, we will know what the world can be.”
“And you still have faith?”
Luna nodded. “We cannot be afraid to step across the threshold into the unknown. We cannot stop fighting for a better world; a world without Azrael, where the dead are as free to choose in death as they were in life.”
Twilight paused, considering. She drew her hoof across the ground in the dreamscape, noting the line of light it left if she focused on it. “The few? How many stood with you and Celestia?”
Luna grew distant, staring off into starry expanse. “Once, there were six. Half lived. A traitor, a prisoner, and a goddess. Then there were four, love reborn. Now there are five, with an imposter’s rise.”
A hoof jostled Twilight, and she started awake, drool on her cheek matting her mane. As she blinked sleep from her eyes, she made out Applejack standing over her. “See, if you want to move a stubborn stump, all you need to be is firm.”
“She’s alive!” Pinkie yelled, her shrill cry eliciting a groan from Twilight.
Twilight rolled, trailing silken sheets, and buried her head beneath her pillow. “Go ‘way,” she grunted.
“Wish we could, Twi, really do,” Rainbow Dash said. “But we got problems.”
“It seems that our friend Moonstrike is a bit of a manipulator,” Rarity said.
“And we’ve got about five minutes before they bash down the door and demand their champion’s sword back,” Applejack said.
“We really wish we could have let you sleep, Twilight,” Fluttershy added.
Twilight pulled the pillow tighter around her head with her levitation. “Didn’t I win it in some stupid duel?”
“Sure did,” Applejack said. “But, he says you cheated.”
Twilight lifted the pillow, her ears twitching. The rumble of a crowd rose and fell in a cacophony of hundreds of voices. Immediately, she began preparing spells. She started with some easier ones as she rolled out of bed. With her focus divided, she stumbled, the tangle of sheets catching her legs. “I think I hate this place,” Twilight muttered as she regained her balance. Her hooves clipping on the natural stone floor, she moved over to a window barred with silvery metal and peered out. The spire she’d been given a bed in was surrounded by night ponies; not the soldiers she’d seen before, but unarmored citizens, unicorns, pegasi, and even earth ponies, each adding their voice to a growing fury.
Pinkie joined her, crossing her forelegs on the windowsill. “Do you know ‘Summon Angry Mob’ too Twilight?”
“Not now, Pinkie,” Twilight grumbled. She turned, glancing around the room. Her five friends had joined her, presumably coming from their own rooms when the crowd formed outside. Somepony had shoved a metal nightstand detailed with handcrafted coiling shapes in front of the door. A blue flame blazed in a bowl hanging from the ceiling by silvery chains, providing dim light. She picked up Eclipse from where she had left it propped against the bed. “Any reason why we shouldn’t just give them what they want?” she said.
Before anypony answered her, a knock came at the door. “Chosen!” the Priestess shouted. “You must leave this place!”
Twilight strode to the door. With her magic, she shoved the nightstand out of her way, sending it crashing onto its side. With nothing obstructing it, the door swung inward. The Priestess stood outside, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. Several strands of hair poked at odd angles out of her normally pristine mane.
“Good morning,” Twilight said. “Or, whatever passes for morning down here.”
The Priestess surged forward and gripped Twilight’s shoulders with both her forehooves. “You must climb the central spire and recover the star!”
Gently, Twilight pushed her back a pace with her magic. “Before the duel, Moonstrike mentioned a ‘True Chosen.’ Explain.”
The Priestess nodded. “The Raven-winged Alicorn. She declared herself Chosen, but she was not touched by the Moon as you were, and she denied Prophecy!”
Trixie, Twilight thought. “So, she didn’t want this ‘Star’ recovered, and she didn’t want the sword?” Twilight asked.
The Priestess nodded again.
“Good enough for me,” Twilight said. She glanced over her shoulder. “Let’s go.”
Rarity pointed out the window. “Aren’t they still a problem?”
“They won’t be,” Twilight said, striding past the Priestess and out the door. She smirked, picturing a bat-winged visage of herself as she prepared a spell. “They want an Alicorn? Let’s give them one.” She took two confident steps down the Spire’s staircase before she realized she’d forgotten Solstice and Celestial Fury. She turned around, blushing.
The crowd parted before Twilight, awe in their eyes. Her bat-wings stretched toward the darkness near the cavern’s ceiling, appearing for all the world to be solid, but in reality, they were phantasms. She carried Solstice and Eclipse at her side, with Celestial Fury across her back. The hilts hooked her carefully arranged cloak, keeping it from passing through her illusory wings.
Silent, and trying not to convey the tension she felt, Twilight trotted toward the city’s gate. As she walked, more and more ponies fell to their knees. Whispers of “Chosen” flowed in a growing chorus. The gate loomed ahead. Along the walltop, bat-winged pegasi stood as sentinels.
Like a rock in a parting sea, a single pony stood firm. As ponies cleared her path, his features were revealed. Moonstrike blocked her path, head bowed, eyes closed. Magic shimmered in the air around him, and a grey layer of Stoneskin covered him from horn to hoof. He raised his head and opened blazing white eyes. “You are nothing but a fountain of lies, Twilight Sparkle, and the waters run black as your soul.”
Twilight stopped cold, foreleg cocked. He must have cast Truesight, she thought. She licked the inside of her suddenly dry mouth.
“You will bring my people ruin and suffering. God wills us free, but you are a trick, a treachery of the traitor that defies natural order,” Moonstrike continued. He swept his gaze across the crowd. “You kneel before a mare that cavorts with Dirtborn as equals! If God willed ponies to be equals, he would have gifted them equally! Dirtborn have no gift!”
“You try farmin’ seventeen acres,” Applejack muttered.
No Sun, no farmers, Twilight realized. “AJ, take him out.”
Moonstrike’s horn began to glow. “She knows no honor! She hides behind an illusion to earn your awe, and I will reveal the truth by the light of the Moon!”
Applejack loosed her chain, letting it dangle from her tail ready to strike. “Uh, Twi, he’s got some magic protection goin’ on.”
“Trust me,” Twilight said.
Applejack hesitated. Why? Twilight wondered. Isn’t she the one in favor of justice? The spell built on Moonstrike’s horn. “Now!” Twilight shouted.
With a thundering crack, Applejack bucked Truthseeker. The spikes arced through the air and impacted Moonstrike’s chest, penetrating his Stoneskin and tossing him like a ragdoll. In the sudden silence, Twilight heard the thud as the body skipped across the stone. Her eyes turned up to the sentries on the wall. How long before they start shooting? she thought. She brought a prepared Death spell to the front of her mind.
“No true champion would have been slain by a Dittborn!” the Priestess shouted. “I will show the Chosen the path! We will be free!”
The crowd cheered.
With the city far behind them, the Priestess led them toward a spire that stretched from the ceiling of the cavern to its floor. It rose above them, one side bathed silver by the Moon, the other plunged into shadow. “So what changed?” Applejack said, walking beside Twilight.
“What do you mean?” Twilight said.
“There was a time you woulda’ fought hoof and tail to keep from having to put a pony like Moonstrike down.” Applejack eyed her. “Give up on mercy?”
Twilight heaved a sigh. “I’m tired, Applejack. It’s hard to care.”
“Hard to care?” Applejack said.
Pausing, Twilight pulled a canteen out of her bag. After unscrewing the cap, she took a sip. “Do you remember when I torched Bronze Fury and his hunters?”
Applejack stopped beside her. “Yeah, I think that’s when it hit me,” she said. “You weren’t normal. No training, arrow through your leg, and you devastated them.”
“It tore me up, knowing I’d killed ponies with families. I was taught to see the value in each life.” Twilight said. “Now, I don’t think I’d bat an eyelash. Today, when I told you to kill Moonstrike, the only thought on my mind was getting us all safely out of that city. ”
“I know what you mean. It’s hard to be in the situations that we’re in and not get some callouses,” Applejack said.
Twilight took a swig from her canteen, rolling the water around in her mouth before she spoke. “I’m tired of trying to stand on a pedestal because I’m afraid of what I carry. That, and I’m tired of being burned.” She glanced at the Priestess ahead on the path. “Speaking of, I wonder what her real motives are.”
Applejack chuckled. “Nothing good.”
Twilight narrowed her eyes. “Well, time to find out.”
Stowing her canteen, Twilight set off after the Priestess. After a short brisk trot, she slowed to a walk beside the Priestess. She drew Eclipse and held it out unthreateningly. “So, why is this sword so important?” Twilight said.
“It will shield your mind from the Nightmare, like the spell I cast on you when we encountered them,” the Priestess said.
“And what about this prophecy?” Twilight said.
“It has two parts. On the longest night of the thousandth year of our imprisonment, we would be free. Four years ago, Luna came to me in a dream, and identified the Chosen as a surfacer she would touch,” the Priestess said. “All I know is that you must climb the spire, and I will see it done.”
Always, my options are few, Twilight thought. What else do I do? I can’t wait here, and I’m not leaving without her help. She slid Eclipse back into its sheath and stared at the spire. In another hour or so, they would arrive at its base.
A cold wind rushed through Twilight’s mane. The Priestess stood planted a few hoofspans away from the spire. Her eyes glowed with silver light, and the outline of a door set into the base of the spire answered her. The double-doors swung inward with a dull rumble, and the wind died.
The glow faded, and the priestess sagged, catching herself before she stumbled sideways. She lifted a shaking foreleg and pointed into the darkness beyond the doorway. “This is as far as I can lead you, Chosen. Those touched by Luna must face the nightmare alone.”
Twilight nodded. She approached the door, drawing her swords. The rasp of cold steel comforted her, as did the sound of her friends falling in with her. She lit her horn, and the darkness fell away, revealing the inside of the spire. A circle of silver runes on the floor caught the light.
She stepped across the threshold. The hollow interior of the spire spread around her. Darkness coiled above, deep and impenetrable. She tilted her head back, staring upward as she trotted forward.
“I don’t think you all can climb this,” Rainbow Dash said.
Twilight reached the edge of the runes. The walls were smooth, no ramps or steps. “No. The runes must do something.” She turned her gaze to the silver runes in the floor. Slowly, she skirted the circle, reading each rune as she passed. “It’s a scroll,” she murmured, and without hesitation, she trotted to the center.
“It’s not a trap?” Rarity said, eyeing the runes.
“It’s a summoning spell,” Twilight said.
“And it could summon just about anything, right?” Applejack said.
Twilight shrugged. “Can’t be worse than a Pit Fiend.”
With a flare of her horn, Twilight completed the spell stored in the runes. Golden flames erupted from the ring. A blazing pillar of light shot up in front of her, then widened into a tear to another plane. A glowing white pegasus stepped from the gateway. Her eyes were golden flames against a pure white face, and a white mane trailed behind her. She towered over Twilight, at least twice the size that a pony should be.
Twilight took a step back and held up her swords menacingly. “Who are you?”
“I am the gatekeeper, left here as a warden by one who wielded Harmony.” The celestial pegasus regarded Twilight for a moment. “I sense the taint of the Moon on you. Go back, this path is not for those loyal to the Nightmare.”
“Only my friends hold my loyalty,” Twilight said.
The Celestial’s eyes narrowed to blazing slits. “Truth. You were not born in the cavern. I can sever the bond Luna made with you, but as long as you are bound to her, I cannot guide you to the surface.”
“The surface?” Twilight asked, sheathing her swords. “Is that where this spire leads?”
The Celestial nodded.
Twilight hesitated. She glanced down at the cavern floor. Without this bond, will Luna be able to hold back the slayer? She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes. She did everything she could for me, and I’ll do the same for her. “Do it.”
A tingle rose from the base of Twilight’s hooves to the tip of her horn. She opened her eyes to see glowing lines trailing across her coat. Her normal lavender shade faded back, and the world started to dim. All around her, her friends glowed with light as they underwent a similar transformation. Feathers replaced membranes, and slit-pupils rounded.
Shadows closed in around her. After a moment, all she could make out in the blackness was the glowing Celestial. She forced more light from her horn, but it did little to pierce the veil. The Celestial focused on her. “Beware the Nightmare, for on this night, the longest night of the thousandth year, she rouses from her slumber.”
Suddenly, the floor fell away from Twilight. She found herself plummeting into blackness. A scream escaped her lips, but her ears could not hear it.