Project Sunflower: Harmony

by Hoopy McGee


Chapter 17: Dreams, prophecies and portents

~~*Celestia*~~

Celestia awoke, feeling crowded by a sense of dread that compressed her chest, making her breathe in short gasps. Her eyes flicked around her bedroom. Nothing was out of place, nothing seemed threatening, and yet that sense of danger, of wrongness, still loomed over her.

Something terrible is going to happen.

There was no point in trying to go back to sleep, she knew. Far better for her to get an early start on her day. A quick shower was in order, and perhaps some calming tea. Her horn glowed, removing her blankets as she rose. Celestia set her hooves onto the soft rug that muffled the chill of the stone floor. She turned and froze, her breath catching in her throat. There was something unfamiliar in her room.

The figure was shrouded in shadow, a blur in the darkness. It was hunched over, head towards the floor. Celestia lit her horn, bathing the room in a soft golden glow, which served to illuminate the figure before her while somehow making the remaining shadows starker, sharper than before.

A pony stood in her room, one who was unfamiliar at first. On either side, wings drooped towards the floor, and Celestia first thought it was a pegasus. Then Celestia saw the horn and knew who this pony was.

“Erin?” Celestia’s fear began to drain away, though the sense of dread remained. Something about Erin’s posture was wrong, unnatural. Her front legs were splayed wide, and her head dangled limply between her knees. A muttering filled the air, and Celestia realized that Erin was speaking, her voice low and all the words crowding together.

...prisoner…” Erin was muttering, her head still hanging towards the floor. “...break the mountain… two… become three... “

“Erin?” Celestia took a cautious step forward. However it was that Erin had been able to enter her bedchambers could be addressed later. Right now, the mare needed assistance. “Erin, can you hear me? Are you alright?”

The muttering continued, becoming louder. Celestia could make out more of it, now, though what she heard didn’t fill her with comfort.

Free the prisoner in stone. Break the mountain, free the dream. Two, separate, will become three, broken.”

“Erin, please look at me,” Celestia said, taking another step forward.

The muttering cut off. Erin’s ears flicked madly, as if swarmed by flies. Then her head snapped upright so abruptly that Celestia took a startled step back.

The features were familiar: the same tumble of auburn mane, the same sandy coat. But her eyes were deep black pools that seemed to trap any light that came near her. An expression of overwhelming sorrow was on her features, made horrible by the black pits of her eyes.

“Canterlot will fall,” the thing that looked like Erin rasped. “Free the prisoner, or chaos will reign forever!”

There was a sound like the crack of thunder as Celestia’s forehoof struck the stone of her bedroom. “What are you?” she demanded. “Where is Erin?”

“The future will break you if you remain alone, Dawnbringer,” the Erin-thing cried. “Free the prisoner. Free the prisoner!”

“What prisoner? I don’t understand!”

A loud cry shook Celestia’s world. At first, she thought it was coming from the thing that looked like Erin. Then a pair of tiny hooves impacted on her ribcage, and her eyes snapped open.

She was lying in her bed, breathing heavily. Her blankets were tangled amongst her sweat-soaked limbs, and Prince Verdant was pushing urgently on her chest with his little green hooves.

“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!” the little prince was saying, his voice insistent and urgent.

It took a moment for Celestia to take it all in. What she knew now as a dream was slowly fading, but it left behind that sense of wrongness, that feeling that something terrible was about to happen.

Prince Verdant was crying, his face clenched in a mask of desperation. He pushed frantically with his hooves, and Celestia raised her head to nuzzle him.

“It’s alright, dear. I’m awake. I’m awake.” She rearranged herself, and the little colt curled up like a kitten in between her forelegs. “Did you have a bad dream, little one?”

He didn’t reply, but she could feel Verdant’s nod against her chest. She stroked his mane with a hoof.

“Don’t worry, it was just a dream,” Celestia said, even as the remains of her own were refusing to fade completely. “Your Aunt Luna would protect you from any really bad dreams.”

Prince Verdant didn’t say anything, but his breathing settled down. Celestia was certain he’d fallen asleep when he spoke suddenly.

“Free th’prisner,” he mumbled.

A shard of ice formed in Celestia’s chest even as the little colt finally drifted back to sleep.

~~*Erin*~~

Erin was once again galloping through a dark and threatening forest on cracked, bloody hooves. The bushes and brambles growing all around clawed at her mane and tail and left scratches across her coat as she pushed through them. All the while, a menacing voice whispered, gibbered and laughed in her ear as she ran, unable to stop her mad plunge through the Everfree.

It was a sequence of events that she found all too familiar. And, as horrible as this was, what was coming was even worse. She wanted the running to end, but she didn’t want to arrive at her destination. But, soon enough, she broke through. The dread forest faded, and she found herself standing on a field of dry grey stone, crazed, cracked and crumbling as it extended as far as she could see.

The forest was gone, now. The only thing in sight was a small metal hut, built out of pre-fabricated pieces. The windows were blackened, and the single door loomed ahead of her. Beneath her bloody hooves, an enormous thing rolled and surged under the stone. But the thing that was down there was no threat, struggling in its death throes. What was behind that door was far worse.

Though she was once again able to control her body, she refused to move. Instead, she stared at the door, dread suffocating her as her heart hammered in her chest. She couldn’t look away. If she did, she’d somehow find herself closer to the door. And, if it came in reach, she might open it and reveal what was on the other side.

The part of her that knew she was dreaming knew that this was the time when she typically heard the step of a hoof beside her, and tonight was no exception. Erin didn’t turn her head, instead keeping the shed pinned down with her gaze.

“Hello, Pinkie,” Erin said.

“Wrong pony,” a familiar voice said. “Howdy, Erin.”

“Applejack?” Erin gaped at the other pony for a moment before panic set in. She’d taken her eyes off of the door! She turned back, a mewling sound of distress escaping her throat when she saw that it was only a few feet away, now. “How..? Why… What are you doing here?”

“Laughter weren’t working,” Applejack replied. “Maybe it’s time to give honesty a chance. What’s in there?”

Erin kept her eyes nailed to the door. “I… I don’t know.”

Applejack sighed next to her and Erin felt shame at the lie.

“Is it really so bad?” Applejack asked, her voice kind. “What’s on the other side of that door, I mean.”

Erin grimaced, not replying. Lying to Applejack wasn’t an option. Anything she said now would just trap her further.

“Why not just open it and get it over with?” Applejack prompted.

“I can’t,” Erin whispered back.

“Why not? Can’t be worse than havin’ to go through this over an’ over again. Ain’t you gettin’ tired of it?”

Erin’s throat worked as she swallowed back a sob.

Applejack sighed again. “Look at ya. You’re standin’ there, shiverin’ with fear. You keep endin’ up here, an’ it makes ya miserable. Why not open the door? At least that’ll be something different.”

Her mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, then Erin said, “I know I can handle this. I just have to hold on, and I can get through. I can just keep the door shut, and I’ll be okay. But, if I open it…”

A long silence stretched between the two of them. Then Applejack said, “If you open it, you don’t know how things’ll change.”

Erin nodded wordlessly, not taking her eyes off of the door.

“An’ that’s a scary thing,” Applejack continued. “Even if you’re miserable now, at least it’s a miserable you can deal with. So, instead of confrontin’ what’s hurtin’ ya, you keep it locked up behind that door.”

Her eyes felt hot. Misery, shame and guilt. And anger. And fear. She wanted nothing more than to run away from all of it—

“Runnin’ away won’t fix this, and you know it,” Applejack said. “It’s all inside of ya.”

Resentment sparked. “That’s not fair,” Erin said.

“Bein’ fair ain’t the same as honest,” Applejack replied. “Open the door. It can’t be worse than this.”

“And if it is?” Erin asked, voice trembling.

“Well, ain’t that what you got friends for? To help you when things get bad?”

She looked away from the door and into Applejack’s bright green eyes, seeing herself reflected back in them. Erin was a mess, her mane tangled and her red-rimmed eyes haunted. She nodded.

The door to the shed was right in front of her when she turned back to face it, and she nearly decided to run away again. But Applejack was still by her side, and she could somehow feel the presence of her other friends, too.

She reached out a shaking hoof and pushed the door open.

The interior of the shed was all shadowed darkness, and shapes she only recognized because she’d been here once before, when she was awake. There was a table, surrounded by cheap metal folding chairs. Along the right wall were fold-out cots, currently unoccupied.

Directly in front of her was a pony, far larger than her. It was dark green, mostly, except for where its fur and hide had been stripped clean by the Black Tide’s nanomachines and healed a bright pink by the Elements of Harmony. Its limbs ended in stumps that twitched and jerked aimlessly. A pathetic stubble of black mane ran up its neck and along the top of its head.

Erin drew in a deep, hitching breath, then slowly let it out. The sound of hoofsteps told her that Applejack had come up beside her.

“What do I do now?” Erin asked, her voice trembling.

Applejack didn’t reply at first, instead leaning against Erin’s shoulder, offering support. “I think that’s what you gotta figure out.”

Erin stared at the miserable wretch on the floor in front of her. “Okay,” she said eventually. She stepped forward, trying to come up with something to say. A dozen ways to start flashed through her mind, only to be discarded. Finally, she just said what she felt.

“I didn’t want this,” she said to the thing on the floor. She almost stopped, then, but something goaded her on. “A part of me was hoping you would die. I hated you for what you did to me. I… I think I still do. No, I know I do. You hurt me. You controlled me. I was completely helpless. And terrified. And I was scared of you, and I hate you for that. But I didn’t want this.”

The mutilated form of Malachite shifted on the floor and rolled his eyes, not looking at her. The stump of his left foreleg rubbed along the floor, and Erin shivered at the sound of it.

“You saved my world. Or, at least, you helped to do so. A part of me wants to be grateful, but… then this happened. Everything is all mixed up in my head, now. And I hate you for that, too, because it still hurts me.”

Erin stared at him for a while, writhing on the floor in her dream. He was a sad, broken creature. She closed her eyes as tears began to fall.

“I’ll never forget what you did, and… I’m not going to say it’s okay. But I forgive you. Not for your sake, but for mine. So I can stop hating, so I can stop being afraid. So I can maybe stop coming to this damned place.”

What was left of Malachite had stopped moving sometime during Erin’s speech. She opened her eyes and frowned at the shadows where he’d lain, seeing that the space was empty. Malachite was gone. He’d been gone for a while.

Erin drew in a shuddering breath, held it, then let it go.

“How ya feelin’?” Applejack asked.

She thought about it for a long moment. “Better,” she said. “Better than I’ve felt in a while. You were right, I should have done that ages ago.” She looked at her friend and smiled. “Should we get going?”

Applejack shook her head. “One person left you gotta forgive, Erin,” the farm pony said in a voice that brooked no argument.

“Who’s that?”

Applejack didn’t reply, simply staring back at her with a sad little smile on her face. Once again, Erin saw herself reflected in those green eyes.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Erin said, then let out a shaky laugh. “I couldn’t have stopped it. It’s not my fault I was too weak… too weak to stop it happening…” She trailed off, her mouth moving as the words got stuck in her throat.

Applejack came up and pressed her chest into Erin’s, bringing one foreleg up into a hug across her withers. The tears started up again, her eyes burning with them.

“Why?” Erin asked. “Why do I hate myself so much for that? I know it wasn’t my fault. It was the override, I couldn’t have stopped it. So, why…?”

“Logically, you shouldn’t blame yourself at all,” Applejack said softly in her ear. “Nothin’ you coulda done. But does this feel like a logical situation?”

That was enough to break the dam. Erin collapsed against her friend’s shoulders as wracking sobs tore their way out of her. She finally let herself fall apart, leaning against Applejack’s strength as it all drained out of her. A part of her felt shame at her lack of control, and a clamoring voice in her head was urgently trying to tell her to get a hold of herself, to stop making a scene, to not make a mess all over Applejack’s shoulder, but she couldn’t stop. Instead, she simply clung to her friend as she would a life preserver during a storm at sea.

It was true. As stupid as she knew it was, there was a part of her that felt like she should have been able to stop Malachite. If she’d been smart enough, or strong enough, she could have done it. Erin knew it wasn’t true, but the feeling had never quite gone away. There was a part of her that truly believed that she could have willed herself back into control of a body that was designed to be controlled remotely.

The bout of crying went on for a long time, slowly working its way down to a case of the sniffles. Erin drew her head back, casting a guilty glance at Applejack’s coat, where the evidence of her weakness remained in the matted and damp orange coat.

“Don’t you worry about that none, y’hear?” Applejack said sternly. “A little mess ain’t gonna come between good friends. We just gotta help each other through the bad parts, is all.” Applejack smiled and held Erin’s head in both forehooves. “But maybe that’s a discussion for another day. I don't think we're outta the woods yet, but I reckon we covered more than enough ground tonight. I’m downright proud of ya.”

Erin felt the heat rise in her cheeks as she looked away. “I didn’t do much of anything.”

Her self-effacement was rewarded with a rap of a hoof on her forehead, just under the horn. “None of that, now,” Applejack said, voice stern. “It’s been a long time comin’, but you finally started working through the bad stuff tonight.”

Erin smiled over at her friend, just for a moment before the world seemed to spin around her. Then she frowned. “This is all a dream,” she realized.

Applejack nodded. “Yup.”

“You… Are you really Applejack?”

Her friend tilted her hat down over her face, obscuring her eyes, but her mouth twitched up in that familiar, mischievous half-smile that Applejack sometimes wore when she was pulling a fast one.

“A discussion for another day,” Applejack said. “Besides, you’ve gotta wake up, now. Ain’t that your alarm?”

Erin’s eyes shot open and she glanced around to see her tablet’s screen lit up as it beeped away on the nightstand next to her.

With a sigh, she shut it off. Then she rolled onto her back, being careful not to crush her wings.

“‘Come to Equestria and have weird dreams’,” Erin muttered. “They should put that on the travel brochures.”

She yawned and stretched all four of her legs straight out above her. It was almost too early, but she knew Jerry and the others would be here soon. Lucas and his crew had almost finished installing the solar tiles, and Jerry was nearly completed with the electrical upgrades. When he was done, Erin’s house would not only have a battery backup for electricity, but it would also be able to use power from both the tiles and from Ponyville’s somewhat spotty electrical grid.

Then there was the Wi-Fi equipment, which was nearly complete as well, and installed in a small closet that Erin didn’t plan on using. There was a diagram printed out and taped to the inside of the closet door that listed what each piece of equipment was, and how to maintain it. For the most part, that seemed to mostly boil down to “If it doesn’t work, unplug it for a few seconds, and then plug it back in.”

As usual, Erin opted not to shower right away. Her morning was going to be spent at Sweet Apple Acres getting dirty, tired and sweaty, after all. Instead, she ran a brush through her mane and tail a few times to get the worst of the snarls out before trotting off, leaving her door unlocked so Jerry, Lucas and the others could get in if needed.

Erin trotted briskly towards the Apple’s farm, looking forward to the big Apple family breakfast in store for her.

~~*Twilight*~~

Twilight settled her saddlebags across her back, giving the apartment one last look just to make absolutely sure that she hadn’t left anything behind. She even opened each and every drawer and cupboard in the place, even though she knew she hadn’t used any of them.

“Triple-check the room before we leave,” she said. “Check!”

“Check,” Spike repeated, making a mark on the checklist.

“Alright, I think we can—” A sharp knock on the door interrupted Twilight mid-sentence. “Huh. I wonder who that could be?”

Opening the door revealed a slightly-sweaty guard, the sunburst medallion on his barding indicating that he was a member of Celestia’s personal Solar Guard.

“Miss Twilight Sparkle,” the guard intoned formally. “Princess Celestia would like to request the pleasure of your company in the Autumn Yellow Tea room. If you’ll kindly accompany me?”

“I know the way,” she said as she grabbed Spike in her telekinetic aura and plopped him on her back. “Hold on, Spike, okay?”

Spike’s panicked response was almost instantaneous. “Wait, Twi—”

One flash of magic, a jerking sensation and a feeling of being firmly squeezed for a few seconds, and she appeared with a bang in the Autumn Yellow Tea Room. It was a space Twilight was fairly familiar with. Princess Celestia only seemed to come to this particular room when there was a lot going on. She had once told Twilight that it was her “special sanctuary.”

“—light,” Spike finished, then groaned as he slid off of her back. “Ugh… I hate teleporting.”

Princess Celestia was already there, alone, drinking tea out of a chipped porcelain cup. Typically, no servants were allowed in this room except to clean up. She looked up with a single arched brow that turned into a smile when she saw who had just intruded on her tea time.

“Sorry, Spike,” Twilight said as the little dragon staggered over to a nearby cushion and flopped down on his back. It was true, teleporting could be extremely disorienting if you weren’t used to it. She felt fine, herself. All of her recent practice mean that she barely felt a twinge after teleporting. “Princess, you wanted to see me?”

“Welcome, Twilight. Yes, I did. And, while I’m very pleased to see your progress with teleporting, I would have been perfectly happy to wait until you had a chance to walk here.”

Twilight looked down and scuffed a hoof along the floor. “Sorry, Princess. I thought it might be urgent.”

“Urgent? I’m… uncertain of that. Very definitely important, however.”

“You can count on me, Princess!” Twilight said staunchly.

“How is Erin doing?” Princess Celestia asked. “Adjusting well to life in Ponyville?”

“Uh…” Twilight exchanged a look with Spike, who shrugged and rolled over, closing his eyes. She considered the question for a moment. “Last I checked, yes. She was starting to study magic. I gave her a beginner’s guide. I know she wants to learn flying, too. I’m not sure how much she’s managed to learn, though, since I’ve been in Canterlot for the last week or so.”

“Has she mentioned anything about a prisoner? Specifically, freeing a prisoner of stone? Or two becoming three and breaking? Or anything about mountains, I suppose.”

“No, Princess,” Twilight said, then added slowly, “Though, the prisoner sounds familiar. I think I read that in a book.”

The Princess regarded her for a long moment, as if deciding what to say. Twilight shifted nervously from hoof to hoof, her ears flicking.

“I had a bad dream last night,” Celestia said finally.

Twilight blinked, drawing her head back. “Oh. I… I see?”

“This was no ordinary dream,” Celestia continued, her face drawn and tight. “I think it was a vision, of sorts. A warning of things to come.” A tired smile crept across her face. “I have those, sometimes.”

“I see…” Twilight said. The first inklings of excitement were making themselves known. Was Celestia going to ask her to interpret her dream? Was it going to be part of some prophecy? How exciting! But wait, what if she got it wrong, and Equestria was doomed because she wasn’t any good at dream interpretation?

Come to think of it, Twilight realized that she had started reading a book on dream interpretations a few days ago, but put it aside when she’d realized that it had nothing to do with entering the Dreamrealms. What if the information she’d needed was in that book? And now, Equestria was going to be doomed because Twilight couldn’t have been bothered to finish it! And, worse, the Princess was going to set her a task that she would fail!

“Twilight?”

Twilight snapped herself back to attention. The panic didn’t go away, but it did fade. “Yes, Princess?”

“I’ll tell you as much as I can remember. I’d like your honest impression.”

“Okay,” Twilight said.

“And please, try to relax. Have a seat, perhaps have some tea. You look far too tense.”

“Okay.” Twilight marched over and sat stiffly on a cushion. She took in a deep breath and then let it out, making a pushing motion with her hoof as she did so. Cadance had taught her that trick. She’d said it was to “push away the stress”.

It worked, at least a little bit. Twilight felt her muscles relaxing slightly, and she even managed to direct a tiny smile Celestia’s way. At least, until Spike’s unexpected snore ripped through the room. Twilight burst into uncontrollable laughter, causing the little dragon to sit up with a grumble and move to a different corner of the room.

Celestia smiled fondly at the dragon before looking back to Twilight. “Alright, then. My dream.”

“One moment, please, Princess,” Twilight said. Her horn lit up, and she pulled a scroll, quill and ink out of her saddlebags. “I think it would be a good idea to write this down, so I don’t forget any details.”

The Princess’ smile turned merry for a moment. “Since when have you ever forgotten a detail?”

The smile was infectious, and Twilight felt herself returning it. The relaxed attitude prompted Twilight to be a little daring in response. “There’s a first time for everything,” she quipped.

Celestia chuckled in response, then took a sip of her tea as her eyes took on a faraway cast. Then she started speaking. “In my dream, I awoke in my bedroom with a terrible sense of some impending disaster…”

Twilight listened intently while she wrote the details of Celestia’s dream, barely letting herself think about the implications of what was happening. This was Princess Celestia, relating one of her dreams to her. What other pony could claim to be privy to such a thing? Well, besides Luna, Twilight realized.

It wasn’t a very long dream, and Celestia waited patiently while Twilight re-read what she’d written down.

“‘Prisoner in stone,” Twilight said. “I know I’ve read…” Her eyes widened and she bolted to her hooves, horn glowing. “Wait! I know!”

A loud snap of magic and displaced air preceded that familiar sense of pressure and momentary disorientation. Lucky for her, the Princess had been right when she’d mentioned that nopony else had taken over her old room at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, or Twilight could have found herself in an incredibly awkward social situation as she suddenly popped into somepony else's living quarters.

It didn’t take her long to find the book she was looking for, laying where she’d left it right before being sent to Ponyville for the first time. There was another crack of displaced air as Twilight teleported back to the Autumn Yellow Tea Room. The glow of magic from the teleport had barely faded, and Twilight already had the book open, flipping pages magically as she scanned the different entries.

“Ah! Here we go. Predictions and Prophecies, page three-hundred and eleven.” Twilight quickly read the passage, her eager smile replaced by a worried frown as the words sunk in.

The prisoner of stone stands alone in the garden of the Sun
and Must be freed Before the two Becomes three and Canterlot falls.
Chaos tamed by the heart of Kindness, taught the true meaning of Friendship
Or Harmony shall never be restored.

The meaning of at least part of it was pretty clear. Twilight felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach, which at least distracted her from the baffling capitalization of apparently random words in the passage.

“Twilight? What does it say?”

Twilight shook herself and passed the book over to Celestia.

“Oh, dear,” Celestia said. “I’ve just realized who the ‘prisoner in stone’ is. In retrospect, it seems obvious.”

Twilight nodded. “Discord. Though, how he is supposed to help prevent a disaster is beyond me. What concerns me more is the part about ‘chaos tamed by the heart of kindness’. That can’t mean Fluttershy, can it?”

“Hmm…” Princess Celestia stared at a point above Twilight’s head for a few seconds. “That may make a certain amount of sense.”

Twilight blinked and pawed nervously at the carpet. “No offense, Princess, but I can’t see Fluttershy willing to be anywhere near a creature like Discord. He was awful!”

“But not as awful as he could have been,” Celestia replied.

The Princess' voice was unusually subdued, her eyes distant. Discord hadn't been as bad as he could have been? Twilight shivered at the thought. “What do you mean?”

“It’s something I noticed when he was free last time. Luna and I had planned on keeping him distracted while you searched for the Elements. I can't tell you how worried I was when he simply ignored us!" Celestia shuddered, her feathers ruffling as a pained grimace crossed her features. "And then came confusion. What Discord did to you and your friends was terrible, but it was nowhere near as bad as what he’s truly capable of.” Celestia frowned as she looked down at the prophecy. “I have to wonder if he was changed at all by exposure to the Elements. And if a second exposure changed him even further.”

“It’s hard to imagine him being worse,” Twilight said, her skin crawling with revulsion. “Princess, what Discord did to me lingered for weeks. And I know I’m not the only one who had nightmares about it.”

“I understand, Twilight. And, yet… he was still less malevolent than he’d been centuries earlier.” Princess Celestia got to her hooves. “It’s something to consider and discuss with my sister. I promise you this, though: If Fluttershy refuses, I won’t push it on her.”

“But what will happen then?”

A wry smile appeared on Celestia’s face. “Well, in that case, we’ll just have to face whatever future this prophecy predicts without the help of the mad spirit of chaos.”

~~*~~

The building that housed the Manehattan University of the Arcane Sciences actually predated the founding of the city itself by several centuries. The oldest part of the university was also the smallest, distinct from the rest due to the large blocks of rough grey stone used in its construction, still marked black in places by the countless torches that had burned in wall sconces through the centuries, now replaced by smokeless magical lanterns. Newer additions to the facility typically didn't bother matching the earlier ones, meaning that students studying the history of architecture could get quite the education just from wandering the grounds.

Archmage Silverwell Starfall was just beginning his relaxation routine in his private study when sharp knocks sounded from the heavy oaken door to his apartments. Grumbling, he levitated his thick half-moon glasses back onto his muzzle, set aside his ancient teacup and forced himself up and off of his threadbare red couch. His knees and hocks creaked in protest as he picked his way through the cluttered rooms, reaching his front door just as another three knocks sounded.

“Yes, yes,” he snapped as he flung open the door with a burst of magic. Three young ponies stood there, the one in front with his hoof raised as if to knock again. “What do you want? It’s after hours!”

“We were hoping we could ask you some questions, Professor Starfall,” the one in the center said. “May we come in?”

Professor Silverwell scowled at the three unicorns before him, a mare and two stallions. One of the stallions was larger than the other, and it was this one who had spoken. The mare next to him had a smile that was rather unsettling. A word tried to suggest itself to the Archmage, but was gone before he could grasp it. Something starting with the letter “p”, he decided, then shrugged it off.

The third stallion was much smaller than the others, standing in the shadows as if he belonged there, his face expressionless.

“I don’t entertain students after hours. I’ve always been very clear on that,” Silverwell snapped, drawing his neck up managing to look down his muzzle at the mare and stallion, in spite of them being taller than him by a head. “Get a tutor if you need help with your coursework!”

“It’s not about classes,” the larger male said. “Please, Professor. It’s urgent that we speak to you. There’s something of critical importance going on that we think you need to know about. May we come in?”

The professor chewed peevishly on his scraggly mustache for a moment, then grunted. “Fine. But watch that you don’t knock anything over!”

He turned and walked back into his apartment, hearing the students walk through the doorway behind him. As the first crossed the threshold, Silverwell hesitated briefly before smiling. Predatory. That was the word he’d been looking for to describe the mare’s smile. Professor Silverwell chuckled and shook his head. His memory wasn’t what it used to be.

“One moment,” he said as he turned and faced the three, “I’m going to clear up some of this clutter right quick.”

He ignored the grumbles from the mare as he lit his horn. His sitting room was indeed a mess, with books and scrolls covering nearly every flat surface that wasn’t already occupied by an empty teacup in a saucer. Books were levitated into the nearby hallway, where they were stacked neatly. Scrolls were gathered up and placed inside his old roll-top desk, which was then levitated into the same hallway as his books. Levitating that many objects at once was tricky, especially when he was keeping an eye on his three guests rather than on what he was moving, but he wasn’t an Archmage for nothing.

After the books and scrolls were moved to safety, the furniture was moved to the far wall, clustered together so as to take as little space as possible. He was just dropping the last of his many end-tables on top of his couch when the male student spoke again.

“Very… interesting cleaning job, Professor,” he said. “But where can we sit if your furniture is all piled up like that?”

Archmage Silverwell snorted and turned to face the three of them. The mare was scowling petulantly, while the larger stallion simply looked nervous. The smaller stallion was standing in the doorway, his eyes half-lidded as he looked around the room.

“Some of that furniture is centuries old,” he said, contempt coloring his voice. “I moved it out of the way so it won’t be damaged, as I expect a fight after I refuse to offer hospitality to a group of changelings.”

The mare gasped, and the larger stallion startled, drawing his head back and laying his ears flat. Then he smiled slowly, his horn glowing as he used his magic to shut the thick oak door behind him. “Interesting. What gave us away?”

“Wards on my doorway to tell me exactly who it is visiting me,” the Archmage replied. “I’m no fool, and you’ve bitten off more than you can chew with me. I’ll allow you to surrender now, if you like.”

The mare goggled at him blankly before breaking out in laughter. “Oh, he’s funny!” she said in a lilting voice. “Can we keep him?”

Silverwell stomped a forehoof and activated the spells he’d inscribed in the air between them while he’d been rearranging his furniture. Fortunately, these changelings either didn’t know or had neglected to cast the spell required to see another pony’s spell workings, which allowed him to take them by surprise.

A shield sprung up around him as the first circle lashed out, banishing the changelings’ pony forms. A much more complicated array comprised of several interlinked circles all spinning together activated to create a zone of anti-magic around the three of them, denying them the chance to strike back. Still more circles, these inscribed on the floor beneath his unwanted guests, magnified gravity ten-fold. The two changelings hit the floor with a solid thud, him with a pained grunt and her with a shrill cry of distress.

“How amused are you now, dear?” Professor Silverwell said, then cackled. “I’m finding this pretty funny, myself!” He regarded the two of them closely. “Hmm… If I’m not mistaken, what I have here is a rare changeling general, and an even more rare changeling nymph. Am I correct?”

The general managed to pull his head up off of the floor, his neck trembling with the effort. He grinned and gasped out, “You missed one.”

Silverwell took a step back, his eyes shooting towards the third changeling. A shocked gasp tore its way out of his muzzle at what he saw. The small changeling was not only standing and still in its pony form, but its horn was glowing a sickly green. It was casting, somehow, in spite of the anti-magic field that should have been covering it.

“How…?” Professor Silverwell’s own horn lit up as he cast a quick spell to show any enchantments or castings in the area. What he saw filled his veins with ice-water.

The small changeling was casting the most incredible, most complex array of interlocked spell circles that the Archmage had ever seen in his life, making the room look as if it were inside of a giant clock. Many of the runes and connections were completely alien to him, twisting to form eye-blurring patterns in the air. It formed a hemisphere that rose to the ceiling, encompassing the entire room. The Archmage looked up with a sinking feeling as he realized that he was standing right in the center of it.

“Initiating capture,” the changeling said in a dull monotone.

The array collapsed inward, shattering his shield and smothering both the Archmage’s own magical constructs along with his cry of distress. He collapsed onto the dusty rug on his floor, wrapped in the changeling’s strange magic.

Panic welled in his chest as he tried desperately to teleport, or to shield himself. The changeling nymph’s hoof came down right in front of his muzzle, and he rolled his eyes up to her sneering countenance.

“Yes,” she said, “I’m still finding this funny.”

There was a burst of green light, and then the changeling general stepped up next to the nymph. He was wearing the Archmage’s own form as he grinned down at him. The nymph disguised herself once again, then lifted Professor Silverwell up with her magic.

“One moment, Princess,” the general said, his horn lighting up. Silverwell felt his thick glasses rising off of his muzzle. “I’ll be needing these.”

“Is that everything?” the nymph asked.

“Should be,” the general replied in Professor Silverwell’s voice.

“Good,” the nymph said. Then, to the small changeling, “Take us home, Infiltrator.”

The third changeling’s horn glowed green, and a section of the air twisted, resolving itself into a rectangle the size of a large doorway with what looked like a dark cavern on the other side.

“Come along, then,” the nymph said primly as she trotted through the gateway hanging in the air while ignoring his muffled protests. “We have accommodations ready and waiting, just for you!”

The Infiltrator followed them, then lit its horn again. The magical doorway in the Professor’s sitting area untwisted and the cavern disappeared.

The changeling general looked around at what was now his apartments, at least for the moment. Some quick levitation work moved the couch, chairs and tables back to their original locations, or at least close enough that nopony was likely to notice.

The new Professor Silverwell made his way to the study and relaxed on the old, threadbare red couch. He looked around, then spotted something that made him smile. Horn glowing, he raised the ancient teacup to his lips and took a sip.