//------------------------------//
// Chapter 15: Queen of Poisons 
// Story: The Advent of Applejack 
// by Mister Friendly 
//------------------------------//

	
Drip… drip…

The soft plop of tiny droplets carried through the earthy chamber, periodically filling in an otherwise total silence. They were coming from a series of serpentine roots hanging from the ceiling, dribbling down along their lengths before running out of root to traverse and plummeting to a small pool below.

Agave watched the ripples running across the surface of the shallow pond, if only for something to do. She sat on her bed, stuffed manticore clutched tightly to her chest. She’d been sitting in the same place for… quite a while, actually. And yet, she couldn’t quite think of anything better to do.

With Applejack gone off to Canterlot, or wherever that strange creature had taken her, there wasn’t anything for her to do anymore. Which was kind of boring. Worrying, but mostly boring. 

Ever since she’d gotten back, she’d been shuffled off beneath the Vivarium for her own protection, and there she had remained. But it wasn’t like confinement was a new thing to her. After all, she’d spent all of her life safely tucked away within her mother’s hive like some precious gem in a dragon’s hoard, never to see daylight, save for the grottoes her mother used for lessons. Agave had never known back then how amazingly big the world was, and now that she’d seen it for herself, she found it incredibly hard to stay still, especially knowing what was at stake.

She didn’t want to just sit around now. But unfortunately, that was what was expected of her. Here, beneath the Vivarium and amidst its roots, she was safe from the Court’s – and by extension, her mother’s – judgment.

Then again, she’d been safe back home, too. Yet here she was.

Agave pulled her doll away from her and turned it around to face her. One of its button eyes was loose and lolling, and the threads outlining its benign smile were frayed and half pulled out. It was still the single most comforting face she’d ever seen.

“What do you think, Tica?” she asked it privately.

The doll just looked back at her like it always had since the first day she’d gotten it, on the only birthday she’d ever celebrated.


~~***~~


“I want to give you something, Agave.”

The little hatchling looked up, taken aback. The towering form of her mother stood over her, outlined by the diffused light filtering through gaps and holes in the severely angular stone walls of her room.

Even at that age, Agave understood one thing for certain; her mother rarely if ever addressed her unless she had some lesson in mind, something to prepare her for being a grown-up. Any other time, her mother was aloof, even ignorant to her presence.

“What, mommy?” Agave asked. She dutifully took a seat in front of her mother and turned her ears towards her.

Her mother lit up her impressive horn and cast her eyes across the unusually box-shaped room. Agave turned, using her forelegs to pivot herself around on her rump as something came floating off of a distant high shelf towards her. When she saw what it was, however… well, she couldn’t help but frown in confusion.

She’d never seen anything like it before. It was fuzzy, and brown, with tiny flimsy claws made of felt fabric, unlike any claws she’d ever seen. It had eyes, but they were blank and black, like two perfectly smooth lumps of jet. It had a mouth, and it was smiling brightly, but there was no seam for the lips to part from.

All in all, it was a bizarre looking thing, all the more-so when her mother brought it in close to Agave, close enough for her to reach out and touch it. Whatever lesson lay behind this strange object, Agave couldn’t even fathom it. And that worried her; her mother didn’t like disappointment, and she didn’t like disappointing her mother in turn.

It was so soft, the softest thing she’d ever felt before. Immediately she couldn’t help but squeeze it tightly. It smelled so strangely, too; of things she’d never seen or smelled before, places she’d never been. But, over it all, it smelled like her mother. Comforting, reassuring… safe.

Agave’s apprehension mounted all the more, her mind frantically working out what all of this could mean.

“T-thank you, mommy,” Agave said softly around the soft thing’s head. It was almost as big as she was, and she couldn’t quite get her hooves all the way around it unless she wrapped them around its neck.

Was she supposed to wrestle it? Demonstrate her ability to protect herself? Was she supposed to display her infiltration techniques using this… creature? Object?... as a medium? She didn’t know, and she was starting to panic internally. What was she supposed to do?

Then Agave glanced up at her mother, who was only looking on with a passive look. “Did I do something good?” she asked. It was more of a confirmation than anything; had she already failed without realizing it?

When Aconita nodded, Agave felt a sense of relief – marred by the ever-present confusion; that little voice she’d developed to second-guess everything her mother said or did to untangle her real motives.

“Yes,” she said softly, “you did, Agave.”

That certainly was a relief, but it only presented more questions than answers. “What… what did I do right?” she inquired tentatively, hoping all the while such a question would not trigger disciplining.

Her question caused something to cross her mother’s feature’s then, something little Agave didn’t have a name for. Emotion of any kind was so rare on Aconita’s face to begin with. Whatever it was, she at least understood that it was not a happy expression.

“You… lived.”


~~***~~


Agave jumped back to reality when a particularly fat drop of water smacked against the surface of the shallow pool in front of her. Instinctively she glanced around, quickly taking stock of the many nooks and crannies behind the tangle of roots all around her. But there was nothing to see.

Agave relaxed again, then glanced back towards her doll, looking troubled.

“Mommy…”

Why had her mother said that back then? What had she meant? Aconita didn’t reward her unless she’d done something of particular note; mastering a spell, for instance. To be rewarded just for being alive… that had seemed so strange, so unlike her. And it was the only time she’d ever done such a thing. She’d lied awake for weeks trying to figure out what her mother had been up to, giving her this very doll. Yet, nothing ever came of it.

What had she meant…?

B-thmp…

Agave jumped with a squeak and looked around. Piled on the ground beside her was a wad of filthy fabric the size of a bed sheet. Mud and gunk had stained it, and it gave off the pungent stench of swamp water.

At its center, something bulged.

B-thmp…

Agave jumped again. This time, she’d seen the source for herself when the round thing lying at the heart of the wrappings pulsed with an eerie green light that was bright enough to pierce the dense fabric.

Agave cocked her head curiously to one side. She’d been here for some time already, and not once had that thing shown any signs of life. So why now?

Another rhythmic thump echoed through the chamber – louder and more urgent than the ones before it.

Some part of Agave knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t stop a curious hoof from lifting and extending towards the shrouded Corastone…

A holey hoof fell on hers out of nowhere. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, niñita,” cautioned a familiar voice from the shadows.

Agave’s alarm shifted almost immediately to amazement as the owner of that hoof literally materialized from the shadows beside her bed. “Cassava!”

At the mention of his name, the one-eyed drone turned towards her and offered a toothy grin that didn’t quite reach his eye. “Pardon my interruption,” he said with forced casualness. 

For a long time, Agave’s mouth just flapped uselessly, her eyes huge. “You… How long have you been here? I was getting worried!”

This time, Cassava’s grin was lit up by amusement. “I thought you were the one who told me I didn’t have to hold your hoof all the time?”

Upon seeing the pout on Agave’s features, Cassava relented. “Alright, alright. I’ve been tailing you all day, just in case.”

“You have?” Agave said with a blink. “But… why didn’t you show yourself earlier?”

Cassava chuckled. It was a patronizing sound that brought Agave’s pout back in moments. “Niñita, Applejack might not know much about us, but these drones do. If they knew I was looking after you, well… You’d still be in a hole in the ground, but one with bars and locks, with a lot of very angry changelings asking very hard questions.”

Agave frowned at him. “I don’t believe that. Roseluck and the rest are all really nice.”

Cassava didn’t look the least bit moved. “I’m sure they are. Let’s not test just how nice they are, yes?”

While Agave shot him a petulant look, Cassava continued to eye the wrapped up Corastone. He waited, and waited, but all of a sudden it seemed ill inclined to show any signs of life. He didn’t frown at it, but a lack of a smile on his face was just as somber an expression.

So, it actually woke up, eh? Well ain’t that ominous…

“Guess it’s time we got out of here, Agave,” he stated after a pause.

Agave hesitated, doing a double-take. Her smile flickered slightly, giving way to a look of confusion instead. “Go?”

Cassava grinned wider, flashing his fangs. “Of course! There’s adventure to be had! Trouble to get into! Dastardly plots to foil! You wouldn’t want to miss all of it down here, would you?”

Agave glanced towards the door, looking rather worried now. “I can’t just leave, Cassava. Miss Roseluck, Applejack… they’ll get worried.”

Cassava followed her gaze, his expression sobering up slightly. Then, he turned back towards Agave, who turned at the same time to look at him. “Agave… your mother is still in Equestria,” he said.

Agave’s eyes got big, her breath catching.

Cassava looked towards the Corastone again with a measured expression as he went on, all bravado gone. “I had thought she would leave after the attack to watch things play out from afar, As she is wont to do, but that does not seem to be the case this time. She wouldn’t be putting herself at risk unless her mission here is not finished. Or, perhaps there is still some… how do you say… Uncooperative piece she has not managed to get to fall into place yet.”

Anxiety crossed Agave’s face then. “What is she after?”

Cassava shook his head. “I do not pretend to know Reina Aconita’s objective, but if I had to guess, Applejack’s condition will be at the heart of it.” He cracked a wry grin at his unintended joke.

Agave frowned to herself for real now. Her gossamer-thin wings buzzed almost imperceptibly; a sure sign that she was lost in thought, Cassava deduced. When she looked back up, she had on her best serious face beyond her years. At least, that was probably her intention; to Cassava, it just made her look cute as a button.

“If Mother’s mission isn’t done, then neither is ours,” she stated. Then, she faltered slightly. “I don’t know what I can do… Applejack is so far away right now, and the district is still locked down… but trying is better than doing nothing! We have to make sure Applejack succeeds, for the good of everyone!”

“Lofty goals and aspirations,” Cassava said with an approving nod, his smile flashing back to life. “I like that. In that case, we’d better get moving. There’s no telling what your mother is up to, but it most certainly will not be good. Of course, I have a trick two up my sleeve, as well.”

Agave nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”

But when she made to grab for the covered-up Corastone, a restraining hoof fell on hers again. “Why don’t I get that,” Cassava offered. “You have enough to worry about without minding this old thing all the time.”

Agave frowned, but relented. “Well… alright. Where are we going first?”

Cassava grinned almost impishly at that question. “Oh, I have some ideas…”


~~***~~


The hospital in Canterlot was generally a calm place. With a city as large as that, there was usually a healthy flow of ponies coming and going; little teary-eyed foals clutching scrapes and bruises, elderly ponies coming in for checkups, and plenty of expecting mothers crushing the life out of their husbands’ forelegs in their delivery suites. Barring the occasional accident or – heaven forbid – calamity, there was rarely a call for alarm.

That day was just as typical, full of typical little occurrences one could almost set one’s watch to. Until the ambulance carriages started arriving.

Herbal Remedy had been sitting in the empty emergency room, doing a crossword puzzle to fill the time while a record player colored the air with smooth jazz; her favorite for a slow day. The next thing she knew, the glass doors were flying open, and in came at least half a dozen beefy soldiers plated in armor. They were carrying in several stretchers, with several more right behind them.

The moment she saw them, Herbal’s pen hit the desk, just as doors leading into the hospital burst open, admitting a stream of white-coated doctors and scrubs-adorned nurses into the fray. It was like two waves of commotion had come out of nowhere and crashed into one another right before her eyes.

To her credit, Herbal was only dumbstruck for a heartbeat. In the next, she’d sprung up and waded in with her fellow medical ponies. She may be little more than a receptionist at the moment, but she wasn’t going through nursing school for nothing.

In minutes, the whole emergency room looked like a field hospital for some terrible war. Ponies laid on stretchers all around the room wherever they could fit, groaning and writhing in pain. Some were burnt, others cut and pummeled as if they’d come off worse from an epic bar fight. Herbal had, at least, seen those results on occasion. But bar fights didn’t usually involve an armed escort of royal guards, some of which looked fairly banged up themselves. 

One by one, the injured were wheeled into the hospital proper for better treatment in appropriate wings. In the meantime, ponies like Herbal did their best to make the wounded as comfortable as possible until the nurses could get to them. It was while she was winding a length of gauze around a whimpering mare’s swollen foreleg that she heard the head doctor’s voice rise over the din of anguish.

“What happened?” he asked. He seemed to be speaking to one of the Royal Guard, who had his helmet off and tucked under one foreleg. “Was there an accident of some sort?”

The guard in question was wiping his face with a towel, clearing off a layer of dust, As well as something that looked confusingly like fat tufts of bird down clinging to bits of loose mane. “We’re investigating it,” the guard stated gruffly. “Once the investigation is complete, you’ll know more. So far spellcraft has been discredited, but there may be exotic flora involved…”

Whatever he had to say next, Herbal didn’t catch it. She was distracted by another stretcher coming in, carried by two first-responders.

“Could I get some help over here?” the mare in the lead called out as she and her accomplice set an unconscious stallion down on the floor.

Herbal bustled over and took stock of the poor fellow. He didn’t seem to have any cuts or bruises, unlike the others. In fact, he seemed in the best shape of them all, and yet he was clearly out cold. Yet visible injuries were not the only sort out there, and they could be far from the worst.

“What’s his condition?” Herbal asked while she looked around for a more official nurse. The mare responsible for wheeling him in shook her head. “Not sure. We think he got knocked out in the panic. Hard to say for sure. Look, we need to get going; there’s another group coming in that could use some help.”

“R-right,” Herbal nodded quickly, and as the first-responders hastily strode away, she turned back to the knocked out stallion.

Only, his eyes were starting to crack open.

Instantly Herbal was at his side and trying to get his attention. “Sir? Sir, can you hear me?”

“Wha… y-yeah,” he mumbled.

“Do you know what happened? Do you know where you are?” Herbal inquired in as loud and clear a voice as possible, all the while preparing more gauze and just a little sedative – if needed. In her mind, she was cycling through what she knew about head trauma: ask some questions – “what’s your name”, “how many hooves am I holding up” – things of that nature. So initially she was only half paying attention.

“Muh…” was the first response she got. The stallion didn’t speak up for a moment as he blinked slowly, eyes unfocused, then said, “I don’t remember anything.”

The way he said it caught Herbal’s attention, grabbing her from her thoughts. It was strangely monotone, like he was simply reciting something he’d been coached to say. “You don’t?” Herbal asked.

“I don’t remember anything,” he repeated dully. “Nothing.”


~~***~~


The outside of the emergency room was in such disarray that nopony noticed a dark, midnight blue mare in an official-looking navy blue uniform slink around one corner  of the building and stride away from the amassed armada of ambulances gathered in front of the emergency room. 

Instead of trotting out along the sidewalk, the mare made a quick turn and slipped between the hedgerows lining the hospital’s perimeter once the coast was clear. When she reemerged seconds later on the other side, unadorned and plain, she could’ve just been another face in the crowd. Aside from a couple initially puzzled looks – she had just appeared out of a set of bushes, after all – she quickly melted into the currents of ponies coming and going along the boulevard. Nopony further noticed her and nopony thought to notice her.

The mare let out a breath, and with a flick of her hoof, stripped the hat from her head, letting a curtain of silvery mane fall past her shoulders. She’d forgotten what it was like out amongst ponies; the little feeling of exhilaration when she slipped in and out, unnoticed. It was a childish feeling, but a satisfying one nonetheless and she allowed herself a private moment to enjoy it.

Still, she couldn’t rest on her laurels just yet. Distracted and preoccupied ponies were one thing. By now, word would have reached the castle, and if Princess Celestia was half the mare she expected her to be, she’d be ready for her.

She paused on the corner of a busy intersection with a group of other ponies waiting politely to cross the street. Carts and carriages streamed passed without a care in the world, smiles all around. So many happy, love-filled ponies, just within hoof’s reach…

For a moment, she half considered nabbing one. There were so many dark alleys, so many little nooks and crannies were somepony could go missing without raising suspicions for hours…

She then forced herself to focus. Now was not the time. She couldn’t afford a lapse in concentration now. Still… those two across the street, sharing a milkshake…

She shook her head. Focus.

She forced her attention away with seasoned practice, towards the pony that had, so far, accompanied her step for step.

She was a young mare, charming and full of vigor. Currently she was staring off into space, not really seeing anything, apparently lost in thought. Her uniform was getting some looks, but not so many that it warranted concern, at least not yet.

The first mare looked her over, then glanced away. Her horn pulsed faintly.

Her accomplice didn’t give any clear reaction. Instead, she dully turned and trotted down the sidewalk seemingly of her own accord, bound for home, the biggest bottle of the stiffest hard cider her cupboard had, and then bed. Sometimes, the simplest tools were the most effective; when she woke up, she’d be too out of sorts to ever suspect the lapse in memory was anything more than the after effects of a good night out.

The first mare didn’t bother watching her go; her part was played. Instead, she set her sights on the next step she had to take. She raised her head up towards the great shape in the distance, visible even amidst these fancy cafes, hotels and shops that lined the boulevard. Far off, she could just see her next objective.

With a jaunty tune, the street light changed, and the gathering of ponies pressed forward, all bound for different errands and destinations, while Queen Aconita set her sights on the far off spires of Canterlot Castle itself.


~~***~~


The throne room was abuzz with commotion. Dozens of ponies were trying to talk at once, all semblance of order temporarily laid aside. Frustration rang in the voices of the many posh ponies, and for the first time in many, many generations, that agitation was all leveled at the regal Princess of the Sun, who sat on her throne at the head of the mob.

Twilight sat beside her, and if she kept glancing between the many faces that were bordering on anger, and Celestia herself, she was liable to develop whiplash. Something had to be done, she knew that, but she was at a loss for what that should be. Politics – actual, bureaucratic politics – was not a field she was experienced enough in to even keep up with what was happening, and it made her sorely regret not ordering those lexicons, Spike’s horror on the matter notwithstanding. It was only fifty volumes, what was the big deal?

Princess Celestia weathered the nobles’ rantings of ‘unfair this’ and ‘something must be done about that’, her demeanor sympathetic, yet unmoved. The debate had been going on for what felt like hours, and by now tempers were getting fragile. Propositions, concessions, compromises; everything and more whirled around Twilight’s head in a maelstrom of bureaucracy that she just couldn’t make heads or tails of anymore. One thing was clear, however; nopony was willing to go home until Celestia gave in to their demands on some level.

Yet Celestia had more years spent at the negotiation table than every single pony in the room combined. For all the political maneuvering and wordplay being thrown around, Celestia was apparently not budging an inch, if the mounting agitation in the crowd was anything to go by. Even after a hastily drawn up bill was introduced that was more convolutedly worded than a tongue-twister written by Zecora, Celestia pointed out its shortcomings in only a few minutes, to an all-new wave of frustration.

At the head of the mob, Bullion stood by and let his supporters’ shouts fill the air. His attitude hadn’t changed one iota, and he still carried himself with a grandfatherly air, his smile undiminished by the anger spouting all around him. Though, to Twilight, the twinkle in his eye now looked somewhat mocking. He just looked towards Celestia with a calm, bemused look, as if finding her resistance humorous. 

At one point, he turned and waved over a maid standing apprehensively off to one side. He whispered something in her ear when she approached, and she quickly jogged away. A few minutes later, she reappeared, now carrying a platter bearing a steaming kettle, a cup of fine china, and an assortment of hoof-sized sandwiches. He was obviously in this for the long haul, Twilight deduced.

When Twilight glanced back towards her, she realized that Celestia’s gaze had not wavered from the rotund stallion since the last time she’d looked at her. Celestia stared down at him, an almost imperceptible narrowness to her eyes.

Bullion smiled and raised his cup of tea to her before taking a cautious sip. That, for whatever reason, seemed to be the straw that broke Celestia’s back.

Celestia raised one of her hooves precisely two inches off the floor, and brought it down again with casual ease. The sound it produced was loud enough that even the debating group of nobles instantly fell silent, each and every one of them jarred out of their tirades.

Twilight couldn’t help but stare at Celestia’s hoof out of the corner of her eye, and she tried very hard not to sweat. Internally, she fought to convince herself that those cracks in the solid marble flagstones had always been there.

For several long seconds, the room was silent. Then, Celestia smiled. “Everypony, please,” She said with utmost kindness in her voice. “I understand that this topic is heated, but could you refrain from speaking all at once? One at a time, please. I can scarcely understand a word any of you are saying.”

Of course, now nopony felt much like speaking up. A dozen nobles exchanged suddenly apprehensive looks, their voices failing them. All, save for one.

Bullion stepped forward, taking center stage once more, and cleared his throat. “I apologize if I am being presumptuous, but I think our message should be loud and clear. We are all very concerned about the current state of affairs, and desire some form of decisive action be taken against this newest threat. If the… housing arrangements for Applejack and her congregation are not up for debate today, then surely the protection of our country is.”

A general rumbling of agreement circulated through the room.

Celestia’s smile did not waver. “Yes, I had gathered as much. On that point, we are in agreement; something must be done to prevent any more damage the Changeling Court might cause us. But times like these do not call for drastic actions. Whatever decision is reached, it must be done fairly and thoughtfully – and not due to ulterior motives.”

Several nobles glanced at one another – some looking upset, others nervous.

Bullion raised an eyebrow. “Ulterior motives?”

Celestia nodded, her smile still as bright as before. “Of course. I have complete faith that our leaders of industry – the ones who would be contracted to carry out such a monumental undertaking as raising, equipping and engineering a new army – would volunteer to do so for purely altruistic reasons. I would hate to think that one or two of those present would be proposing such a plan based on a desire for higher profit margins while disregarding the consequences.”

Celestia’s smile was so dazzling it caused several grown stallions and mares to wince. Bullion was not among them.

“It certainly would be!” Bullion spoke up, sounding appalled. He even had a hoof held up to his chest. “But could you begrudge them a little incentive to invest such a large amount of funding into, as you called it, a monumental undertaking? No other group in Equestria can afford to hoof this particular bill, and our troops would have access to the best money can buy.”

“Financially, yes,” Celestia responded with a nod. “But I am still far from convinced that armed conflict is the appropriate response.”

“Then what is?” Bullion inquired. He had that indulging tone again, which was starting to fray on Twilight’s nerves.

“Careful thought and consideration,” Celestia answered. “As you have said, the Court is unlike any adversary we have ever faced. Rushing to action will be a greater folly than simply doing nothing.”

“Perhaps,” Bullion countered, “but not everypony can be reasonable. We have a plan to improve the situation, into which we have place considerable thought and consideration; would that not at least warrant a second thought?”

Celestia paused for a moment. When Twilight looked at her, she could tell that Celestia wasn’t at a loss for words; she was choosing her next ones carefully.

“Long ago, I considered just such a proposition, almost word for word. It was reasoned that, after Discord’s defeat, an army would be needed to stake out Equestria’s sovereignty against overly ambitious neighbors. And so, I reestablished the Trojans. Long ago, myself and my dear sister Luna used that army to cut out our borders with steel and spell, not word, in order to bring an end to the squabbling and disputes amongst our neighbors brought about by the power vacuum left in the wake of Discord’s defeat. We used it to thwart any would-be aggression, instead of reaching an understanding. Do you know the result?”

Bullion did. It was clear on his face, Twilight saw. On it, his smile had slipped slightly.

“Fighting,” Celestia said curtly. “Fighting without end. One war inevitably led into the next. One group’s hatred fed into the other. In such a cyclical series of events, finances are far from the only price paid. To this day, the griffons still carry a simmering grudge against us, and Yakyakistan has remained deaf to our pleas for reconciliation, to name but a few.”

She looked up, meeting the eyes of dozens of shamefaced nobles. “This stallion you spoke of. Trojan. He had an heir, who was an honorable warrior and every bit the champion his father was, responsible for defending our land against countless invasions. Do you know what became of him?”

Several nobles looked to one another, confused. Twilight was amongst them, her eyes riveted questioningly on the side of Celestia’s head. “What?” she inquired despite herself.

Celestia turned towards her, as if only then realizing she was there. Her smile was gone in totality. “Ask the Crystal Ponies,” she said.

The heavy silence that followed was deafening. All eyes were on Celestia as she turned back towards the gathering, now struck dumb.

“To us ponies,” Celestia continued, “emotions are a very powerful force, upon which all else is built. Our magic is but an extension of our minds, and nothing is more powerful in shaping a mind than feelings.”

Twilight couldn’t help but nod slightly. Years and years of practice and experience had proved Celestia’s words to her. Having set more than a few rooms ablaze in her youth due to boiled over frustration, she knew her mentor’s words were true.

“Trojan’s heir – or as you all know him, King Sombra – is an example of what happens when darkness is allowed to take root. In the changelings, I see this same darkness, born of untold strife the likes of which we ponies may never comprehend. Even so, recent events have proven that this malignance is not all they are capable of. For that reason, I will not resort to drastic measures, nor will I dismiss them all as nothing more than a threat.”

Celestia looked around the room and took in the many disappointed and pouting faces looking up at her. “Let us not lose sight of what our true goal is; the protection of Equestria, not the persecution of another race. In the meantime, we should—”

Why Celestia cut herself off wasn’t initially clear to Twilight. She’d been looking out over the crowd when it happened. She turned then, and to her surprise she found one of the Royal Guard standing at Celestia’s side, whispering in her ear. Where he’d even come from, or how he’d gotten up the rise to stand beside Celestia’s thrown without her catching so much as a glimpse of him was either a testament to the guard’s practiced subtlety or a mark of how little attention Twilight was giving to her surroundings.

Whatever the stallion told Celestia, Twilight heard none of it, not even with the silence of the amassed nobles. He kept his voice down too low, but whatever his message had been, it was short; soon enough, he was leaning back.

Celestia looked back at him, her eyes suddenly sharp. She thought fast, her eyes flicking towards nothing in particular for a split second. Then, she turned back to the guard and nodded to him, dismissing him.

“Princess?” Twilight spoke up quietly. “What was that about?”

Celestia glanced at her, but said nothing. Yet, there was something in her expression; a grimness Twilight hadn’t seen for a very long time. That was all it took to set her on edge.

Celestia turned towards the courtroom at large, and raised her voice. “Good ladies and gentlecolts, I’m afraid we will have to set aside these proceedings for another time.”

The following outburst was predictable as ponies rediscovered their indignation. “We are not finished yet!” some shouted, while others raised their voices to cry out, “We still haven’t reached an agreement!”

But Celestia did not react to their shouting. She spoke over them, raising her voice just enough to be heard. “If you all have another proposition for me to consider, I will be happy to hear from you tomorrow. Until then, this court is adjourned.”

The finality in her tone left no room for argument.

At her behest, the guards began shuffling the reluctant and indignant nobles from the room. Even Bullion looked on the verge of protesting, up until he simply turned and left with the least resistance of the group. Twilight noted that, but only paid attention for a moment. She was distracted by the sight of Celestia quickly rising and striding away.

Twilight jumped up and gave chase. She almost had to sprint just to keep up with Celestia’s long stride as she moved out of the throne room and down an adjacent hall at top speed.

“Princess, what’s going on?” Twilight asked again, jogging slightly to match her stride.

Celestia didn’t seem to hear her at first. Then, she glanced in her direction, as if just realizing Twilight was there. “Twilight, I need you to go find Applejack and remain with her,” she said.

Confusion mingled with apprehension, a stressful cocktail that Twilight didn’t much like. “Okay. Did something happen?”

Celestia didn’t slow her stride. In fact, when she glanced away, momentarily lost in thought, she picked up a modicum of speed. She seemed to deliberate for a moment, before turning towards Twilight again. “Yes. There has been an attack on the front gate to the city.”

Twilight’s eyes got huge, her face paling. “W-what?”

Celestia nodded. “The scene was secured almost immediately, but… It would be best not to assume someone didn't get through.”

Twilight nodded, but she was frowning. She had no doubt in her mind who would be behind such a thing, but it raised a lot of red flags and alarms in her mind. “But why would the Court attack Canterlot?”

“I do not know,” Celestia said seriously. “Their actions have been far too brazen lately. First at the celebration, and now this. It is almost as if they are desperate.”

Twilight bit her lip worriedly, glancing away. “Are they really that angry with Applejack?”

Celestia frowned to herself, looking deeply troubled. “I am beginning to get the impression that anger is not what is driving them,” she said softly. “Not entirely.”

Twilight glanced at her, her brow knitting. Celestia remained lost in thought for a moment, then she glanced back towards Twilight, just as the roar of the cascading waterfalls reached their ears. They were heading back the way they’d come, destined for the dining hall that suddenly felt so far away. “Whatever the case may be, the sooner this threat is contained, the better. A panic right now would only add fuel to the nobles’ arguments and possibly garner more support.”

Twilight gave her an astonished look, taken aback. “You aren’t considering listening to them, are you?”

Celestia shook her head resolutely. “Not if I can help it. A war would end any hopes there were to reconcile with the southern hives, and the impression it would leave on our neighbors… no, I would much rather avoid it at all costs. And the toll it would take on Equestria, even if we were to win… No, raising an army would not be the answer. But Sir Bullion did have one point; I can tell my subjects 'no' only so many times. And if enough voices are added to their cause… I am not a dictator, Twilight. It is just fortunate that Luna and I are of one mind on this matter, or else we truly would have a predicament on our hooves.”

She then shook her head, straightening up. “But that is a matter for another time, and not something you need concern yourself with; I will handle it. For now, you should focus on your friend and whatever it is the Court is after. If they have taken the trouble of breaking into the city by force, then they are after something specific, and will likely be moving very fast. The quicker we react, the better.”

Twilight glanced around as they stepped out onto the promenade, her eyes flitting over the sheet of water plummeting from higher above. “Alright,” she said. Then she glanced towards Celestia. “What are we going to do about the intruders?”

Celestia smiled a motherly, reassuring smile then. “You need not worry, Twilight. Whoever it might be, they will find it very difficult to step one hoof inside the castle, if my sister has anything to say about it.”


~~***~~


In a dark chamber far below the castle, far from the last place the daylight could touch, Princess Luna sat on her haunches in a pose of regal disdain. Her eyes were closed, her horn alight with pulsating magic.

All around her floated a fleet of geometric shapes that revolved round and round through the air, forming spheres that twisted and rotated while giving off an intense white light. It was like sitting at the heart of a clockwork solar system made of light, embroiled in the great machinations of some arcane machine hard at work.

Luna herself was encased in a dome of arcane runes that pulsed intermittently with her dark blue magic. Tethers of ethereal light snaked through the air, connecting the many components together. The further her magic was fed through layer upon layer of runes, the more it changed color, shifting from dark blue to warm pink as it was slowly converted into something else. To a pony, it would be nothing special. To a changeling, however… that was a different story.

There was no sound in the chamber except for a low whistling produced by the spell circles themselves. In a way, Luna enjoyed the quiet. It was familiar, even if in a mildly unpleasant way. A thousand years to ponder could do that to a pony.

But instead of letting it get it her, she made the most of the quiet. It left her alone with her many thoughts, and while a good portion of her concentration was devoted to maintaining the complex spell, she had enough of her faculties to allow for some pondering. And in the quiet, there was nothing to do but ponder.

She’d felt the disturbance at the front gate. The ripple of the explosion beating across the outer layer of the barrier connected directly to her had felt like a sudden bout of shivers. It made her frown to herself. Something was happening out there, she could feel it, but she wasn’t sure what.

She’d half considered breaking away some of her concentration to send her sister a warning, but thought better of it. Her attention was best left to the task before her; one lapse could spell even worse disaster if she were to allow something through. Besides, if it was serious enough, she had no doubt that Celestia would already be better appraised of the situation than she was presently.

And then, out of nowhere, she felt something.

It wasn’t much, and in fact was barely even perceptible. But Luna’s senses were so keyed through isolation and concentration that she picked up on the tiniest of fluctuations. Quickly she took stock of her barriers, and realized it had come from the inner layer – the one covering Canterlot Castle itself.

Had it been a bird hitting the barrier? Some filly or colt tossing stones at it? Concerning the latter, she sincerely hoped not, for their sake. But what could it have been? Whatever it was, that particular spot suddenly had her undivided attention.


~~***~~


Queen Aconita stood just outside the high walls of Canterlot Castle. On one side, the mighty Canterhorn shot towards the late afternoon sky in a broad pillar of weathered granite. On the other, the cityscape of Canterlot made a jagged horizon of glittering rooftops and archways that were still dazzling beneath the glaring sunlight. Behind her, the moat gurgled with a gentle current. She would’ve made quite the auspicious sight standing on the small band of grass that parted the castle from its watery channel, if it weren’t for the beautiful hedgerows between her and any prying eyes. Truly, the groundskeeper was to be commended for his taste in landscaping.

She gazed almost straight up, eyeing the wall of pink light that barred her way. As she’d suspected, the entire perimeter of the castle was sheathed in magic, and powerful magic at that.

With a flick of her midnight blue horn, she tossed another twig at the barrier, pointy end first. It struck, and instantly rebounded hard enough to whiz past her ear, across the artificial river, and through a window in a neighboring household in the distance.

Very powerful magic. That had been an even stronger reaction than before. One of the princesses must be responsible; there was no doubt about it.

For a moment, she weighed her options. As amusing as it’d be to sneak in through the front door, she had no doubt that security would be far too tight, even with a whole troop of patsies, and she didn’t have the time to assemble the necessary force to begin with. 

She could try to force her way through the barrier, but even she had to admit that she had nowhere near enough strength to accomplish that, and even if she did, the resulting… commotion… would surely bring every guard pony in a ten mile radius down on her head. Not exactly a subtle option.

So then, what to do…?

And that was when something very unexpected happened. Unexpected, and very peculiar.

As she stood there, scheming to herself, a doorway appeared right in front of her with a small pop. No warning was given at all; one instant the space in front of her was empty. The next, there was an oaken door right in front of her nose.

The mare automatically took a step back in surprise, her eyes flashing around warily. But nothing else had happened.

The door stood in place inside the barrier barring her way, looking absolutely absurd – not to mention completely impossible – sprouting up where it was. There was a small peephole set rather high on its front, but otherwise it was unadorned. The cheery “Welcome!” doormat didn’t help, either.

She stood in place, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. Her wariness only doubled when the doorknob squeaked, twisted by itself, and with a click, the door swung inwards.

Beyond the doorway laid a thin strip of grass and the old masonry of the castle walls. No pink light, no repelling force… nothing.

The mare narrowed her eyes even further. She glanced down towards the welcome mat. For some reason, just the sight of it irritated her, because for whatever reason, she was starting to get the craziest feeling that she, of all creatures, was being invited in. Who in their right mind would do such a thing?

She glanced back up towards the open and awaiting doorway, and then with her head held high, she stepped through the parted barrier, scowling all the way.


~~***~~


What was that?

Princess Luna cracked open one of her eyes and shot a look towards one of the orbiting spheres of runes drifting around her. It moved like it should have, layers of rings and squares and triangles spinning in opposite directions. Yet, something wasn’t right… Something had just interrupted the flow of her magic, of that she was certain. It’d been so effortless, so casual… So familiar.

Princess Luna found her lip curling with annoyance as it started to dawn on her what – or rather, who – the culprit was.


~~***~~


The moment she saw him, she knew he was trouble. Aconita had heard stories, and she’d harbored her suspicions all the way over the wall and into the adjacent courtyard filled with all manner of flowering plant-life. But when she saw him, she had the sneaking suspicion that she would’ve been better off staying put.

It didn’t help that he was holding his thumb up towards her, sighting down the tip of a claw as he sat before an easel, paint brush in one paw and a beret pushed over one side of his head.

“My, my, you’re taller than I was expecting,” noted Discord, sounding somewhat surprised. “Not exactly a subtle disguise, wouldn’t you say?”

The mare stopped ten feet from the floating dragonequus painter, her eyes narrowed to suspicious slits. “Who are you, and what do you want?” she asked tersely.

Discord put a paw to his chest, looking surprised that she would ask. “Me? Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just a curious spectator who can’t get enough of your antics. Loved that stunt you pulled with the exploding airship, by the way. The look on everypony’s faces… priceless!”

She looked the creature up and down warily. There was something that unnerved her about him, and it wasn’t just the amalgamation of animal parts that made up his body. She, of all ponies, knew that books could rarely be judged by their covers, and this creature in front of her was giving her that sense in spades.

“Now I see,” she said. “You are the one named Discord, are you not?”

“In the flesh,” Discord said brightly, flashing a wolfish smile. “Spirit of chaos, former enemy to all of Equestria. But as you’ve no doubt heard, I’d been successfully reformed but the great and benevolent Princess Celestia!”

He leaned in uncomfortably close, his neck seeming to extend absurdly until they were cheek to cheek. “See?” he said humorously, and in his claw was a very official-looking certificate that said, in big bold golden lettering, “You tried!” amid a shower of confetti and a crudely drawn picture of himself, claws thrown up in celebration and a big, goofy smile on his face.

“Clearly,” his visitor muttered, leaning away from him. His breath smelled sickly sweet, like chocolate and candy… along with something rancid.

To her surprise, it was the little drawing on the certificate that responded; it put its crooked hands on its equally crooked hips and shot her a snide look. “Oh, but I know all about you, my dear. You could say I am your biggest fan, Queen Aconita.”

The mare narrowed her eyes coldly. “Are your powers of deduction supposed to impress me?” she asked.

With a flash and a pop, Discord vanished. For a moment or two, at least; he reformed a split second later, standing upright, arms folded behind his back, costumes and props gone. His annoying smile, however, was still in place as he sized Aconita up.

“Since introductions are out of the way,” Aconita quipped, “Perhaps you could tell me why you let me through. Am I to take this as an act of defiance to the princesses?”

To that, Discord pursed his lips, grinning all the while. “That seems a little one-dimensional, don’t you think?” he said. “I only want to get to know you better. To break into Canterlot Castle and risk butting into not one, not two, but three princesses in one go, not to mention a particularly grumpy queen-in-the-making… Either those are the actions of a master tactician, or a madpony. And since I didn’t see you at last week’s soiree, I’m going to assume it’s the former. But I’ll keep my fingers crossed for the latter.”

Folding his claws behind his back, Discord swaggered closer. “The way I see it, I can try to figure out what your game is before you finish, but where’s the fun in that? I think it would be much more amusing to let you carry on with your business and see what becomes of it for myself.”

Aconita made no move, even as he started to circle round her, eyeing her like a lion might eye a trapped gazelle. “Is this a game to you?” she inquired.

Discord chuckled. “Me? Play games? No no, you see, I see this as an… opportunity.”

Aconita raised an eyebrow at him. Discord, in turn, flipped over onto his back and floated in midair. “Surely by now you know that the princesses are no closer to finding out your agenda than they were six months ago,” he said. “I must admit, even I am at something of a loss, myself. Oh, how I’ve puzzled and puzzled day in and out. Yet, whatever rhyme or reason you and your associates have, I can’t seem to spot it. And I must say, it’s driving me up a wall!”

To better illustrate his point, he put a hoofed leg on the wall behind her, and started walking straight up it.

“And so you want me to play my hand to force theirs,” Aconita deduced.

Discord smiled. “Something like that.”

Aconita eyed the stranger creature with a stony expression, concealing her thoughts. Now I see…

“And if I refuse to play by your rules?” Aconita inquired tersely.

To that, Discord belted out a hearty laugh, like she’d just suggested the most ludicrous thing in the world. He paused, saw she was serious, and proceeded to laugh even harder.

Aconita was not so amused.

“As…” he snorted, then composed himself, “As amusing as that would be, let’s try not to cause a scene, shall we? I would hate for the princesses to catch on before we’ve had our fun.”

“That won’t do.”

Discord glance towards her, down his snout, and raised one bushy eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

Aconita was staring right at him, a frigid look on her face. “You see, a scene is exactly what I’m here to cause,” she stated, as her horn started to crackle. “And I have no more time for games.”


~~***~~


Twilight wasn’t rushing. Not really. One just needed a healthy pace to get the heart pumping, that’s all. It was for health reasons, and health reasons only.

Probably.

She flashed a very big grin at a patrolling guard, who raised an eyebrow at her but didn’t slow his stride. He bowed respectfully as she passed, then paid her no further mind.

That’s it… just keep cool, Twilight thought to herself. Everything’s okay… It’s just another day in Canterlot. Nothing weird or dangerous or life-threatening here! Nope!

Twilight nodded to herself and glanced around. A maid caught her eye, then immediately averted her gaze nervously and busied herself with a bouquet of flowers in a vase.

Or was she just trying to look busy?

Twilight glanced back at her out of the corner of her eye, and did not avert her gaze from the potentially suspicious mare, who seemed to be getting more and more nervous the longer Twilight observed her.

“I am going to kill her!”

The angry shriek made Twilight jump in alarm and lose focus – much to the relief of the poor maid enduring her glare up to that point.

Further down the hall, two more maids were standing in a doorway. One was clearly fuming as she stormed away from the other, who looked intensely fretful. “She was supposed to order marigolds! Marigolds! Not two dozen golden mares! What are we supposed to do with all those statues?!”

While the second maid tried to calm her companion down, Twilight breathed a sigh of relief. She was letting all of this get to her. Princess Celestia had promised that they were safe, after all. And if the princess herself said so, who was she to question it?

Twilight nodded to herself and straightened up. Yes, the castle was perfectly safe, as was Applejack. There was no need to worry about anything. She took one step forward, and was just starting to feel some sense of relief… when the sound of a distant explosion rumbled through the stone walls all around her.

Maids and guards alike all looked up, taking note of the trickles of dust cascading from the roof, looks of confusion and mild concern coloring their features. “Not another one,” one spoke up, sounding exasperated. “The western gardens are still a mess!”

Twilight, however, stared off into the distance; down the extensive hall that seemed to go on forever, straight as an arrow. For some reason, her throat was suddenly feeling very dry and tight.

“Um… princess?”

Twilight jumped slightly, then turned. Beside her, one of the maids was eyeing her apprehensively. “If you don’t mind my asking… what was that just now?”

Twilight was almost afraid to answer, namely because she had a very good idea of what might be responsible. She was still reeling, but nevertheless she opened her mouth to give some kind of response.

That was when a section of wall and window fifty yards in front of her exploded in a shower of dust, glass and rubble.

Ponies all up and down the hall screamed as a choking cloud billowed forth, swallowing the hall in blinding powdered grit. Twilight managed to throw up a wall of magic out of pure reflex, which parted the dust around her as it filled the hall up to the vaulted ceiling.

Twilight coughed against the airborne grit and powdered glass clogging the air. She squinted, trying to see through the clouds swirling in front of her, but there was nothing to see but more clouds and dust.

Ponies were shouting and screaming, their voices fading into the distance as they sprinted away. One bumped into her in the pony’s haste to flee, nearly tossing her over. By the time Twilight looked around, the figure had already vanished into the swirling haze.

But theirs wasn’t the only activity she picked up. Something was in front of her, something that scuffed and scraped across the floor in a steady, rhythmic fashion, like claws on marble.

As the dust began to settle, Twilight started to make out a tall form in front of her, a very tall one, who seemed to be standing in the middle of the hall.

“Discord!” Twilight shouted, somewhere between astonished and angry. “What did you do?”

In front of her, the figure twisted its head around and looked at her. There was no mistaking those asymmetrical horns, even through the billowing dust.

“Oh, Twilight! fancy meeting you here,” Discord noted. For somepony that had just blown a hole in the castle wall, he certainly sounded chipper, much to Twilight’s annoyance.

“What’s gotten into you?” she shouted at him. “You could’ve hurt somepony!”

“Me?” Discord replied, sounding astonished. “I would never! Frankly, my dear, your accusations wound me.”

“Discord,” Twilight growled through gritted teeth.

“Fine, fine,” he responded, throwing his paw and claw up into the air in defeat. One of them, Twilight noted, was occupied by a long object. “If you really must know, I was dealing with a bothersome pest, which I may or may not have swatted a teensy bit too hard.”

The dust had finally settled enough for Twilight to make out Discord properly. He was standing amid a pile of rubble and glass from a shattered arch window, a part of which was still sitting propped up behind him. In his claw, he was carrying some kind of bat, though ridiculously oversized and fat. It looked so much like a foal’s wiffle ball bat it wasn’t funny; bright yellow, flimsy plastic, and marred by a great big dent near the tip where it’d struck something.

With his other paw, he was pointing across the hall from him – towards a heaped pile of rubble. At the very base, Twilight saw, was a long, gangly foreleg protruding out from under monstrous slabs of solid stone.

Twilight’s eyes got huge at the sight of it. She was still some distance away, but she could tell how long it was anyway. That was not the limb of a drone.

“A… A queen? Here?!” Twilight gasped under her breath. Then, she turned a sharp gaze towards Discord, who was casually swinging his bat to and fro while blowing a big bubblegum bubble.

“How did she get passed the princesses’ barrier?” she inquired.

Discord glanced at her nonchalantly, snapped his fingers, and spat out the wad of gum into a conjured spittoon, producing a bell note. “Details,” Discord dismissed. “What is more important is that she is dealt with, right?”

“I… suppose,” admitted Twilight. He did have a point, though she’d never admit to as much. Still, she’d be doing a thorough investigation later.

Twilight redirected her gaze back to the motionless limb sticking out for all to see. Its very presence in the castle was alarming, enough to make Twilight feel a little light headed. A queen… A changeling queen, of all things… For the Court to actually send one of its leaders to deal with Applejack… Some part of her thought this was too easy. Way too easy...

“We need to tell Princess Celestia,” Twilight stated, casting aside her doubts. “She will need to know about this.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Discord sighed. He strolled over, tossed his childish weapon over his shoulder without a second thought, and took hold of the lifeless hoof protruding from the pile of debris.

The shredding sound of paper filled the air, and before Discord’s eyes, the hoof fell apart – not into bloody bits, but into scraps of a black cloth-like substance, like a dress form losing its shape.

It took him a moment to realize what was happening. He paused, staring at the unraveled limb. And when comprehension dawned on him, his eyes widened in an uncharacteristic moment of shock.

With a flick of his wrist, he tossed aside a one ton slab of stone with alarming ease, causing Twilight to stare in shock. But Discord didn’t notice. His eyes were riveted on what should’ve been a broken body lying underneath. Instead, he was presented with a pile of torn, jet black papery remains, like the leftovers of a camp fire.

“Ah…”

Twilight stared at him, at the tattered husk, and back again. “What? Where is…”

And then it dawned on her, as well. “Oh no…”

Twilight raised her gaze from the crumbling decoy, intending to look towards Discord… when something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye.

At the far end of the hall, so very far away, a towering black figure casually rounded the corner, and with a flick of a sapphire tail full of holes, she was gone.

“Hey!” Twilight shouted, and in a flash of light, she teleported. In an instant she cleared the distance, rematerializing so suddenly that she stumbled slightly. But she didn’t have time to spare. She turned and stared down the hall running perpendicular to the one she’d been in. The very same one that would take her back to the dining hall, and to Applejack.

But when Twilight rematerialized on the corner, she found the hallway empty, save for a discarded broom here and a feather duster there. No tall, gangly queen, or any sign of anypony at all.

But Twilight didn’t have to think twice about where she would be heading.

“Discord!” Twilight shouted over one shoulder. “Find Princess Celestia and tell her what’s happened! I’m going after her!”

Without wasting a second, she galloped at full speed down the corridor, praying all the while that she wasn’t as far behind as she felt.

Discord watched her go, expression carefully blank. Right up until she’d vanished from sight. Only then did he allow the huge grin to sprout.

This changeling was turning out to be even more entertaining than he could have hoped for!


~~***~~


With a yawn, Applejack stretched, eliciting a series of cracks and pops from her spine and chitin. Exhaustion weighed down on her; it felt like she hadn’t slept in days.

But sleep was the furthest thing from her mind. There was still too much to do.

She clenched her eyes shut tight, squeezing them hard, then opened them again. It took a moment, but her sight refocused on the dining hall table, the opened diary resting dutifully between a set of black, holey forelegs, and a notepad set off to one side that was covered in quickly penned writing.

Applejack couldn’t help but compare her own hoof writing with that of her mother’s, and privately she was glad nopony else was there to do the same. Compared to the sweeping, elegant calligraphy written in the diary, her own penmanship looked like chicken scratch. She tried not to dwell on it, but well… it was right under her nose.

Applejack forced herself to turn her eyes away and focus on the open diary instead. In some ways, however, that wasn’t much better.

So far she’d found very little of actual importance. By all accounts, the majority of the book’s contents was filled with the day to day musings of her mother. She reflected on the journey to Equestria, daily events… It should have been, by and large, very mundane.

Yet, Applejack couldn’t help but read it all with a level of focus she normally reserved only for the most important of tasks. Every word, every phrase, everything was committed to memory as if some subconscious part of her believed it to be of utter importance to recall why her mother found the ponies’ inexplicable need to break out into mass singing utterly fascinating.

Applejack knew little to nothing about Carnation. At times she hardly felt real, like something she’d dreamed about one night. Even the memories Hyacinth had shown her felt distant, the details growing more and more indistinct with each passing month. But here, with something her hooves had touched, she felt as real as anything could be.

And so, Applejack read with rapt attention, ears pricked forward as if half expecting the pages to talk to her as well. None of it was important… and yet all of it was.

But just as she was about to flip yet another page, something caught her attention at its very bottom. Right in the bottom corner of the page, right next to an account on the fascinating behavior of weather ponies, something was written quickly and hastily, totally unlike the rest of Carnation’s writing.


4534 Sardar Way
3:30 PM tomorrow


Applejack blinked at the anomaly and cocked her head to one side. Call her crazy, but that looked like an address…

Curiously, Applejack flipped the page, turning to the next entry. It was a short one, patiently penned as usual, but something in it caught Applejack’s eye.

Hyacinth is getting worried. She thinks I cannot see it, but I have been with her long enough to know when she is trying to change my mind. But I cannot put this off another day. I will go crazy if I am to be cooped up in Freedom any longer, and I have strength enough to sit on my rump in a train for a few hours, I think.
I must speak with her today. It is critically important, before my child is born. In an hour, I will make for Canterlot. I have an appointment to keep.

Applejack frowned to herself even deeper. Curiouser and curiouser…

She flipped back a page and eyed the address with a new appreciation. The pieces were starting to come together in her mind now.

A trip to Canterlot… an address… Bumblebee’s words about a place in Canterlot…

Suddenly it clicked. This was what she’d been looking for! The very reason why she’d wanted to come to Canterlot in the first place. The Spymaster.

That had to be it, Applejack thought. Her mother had come to Canterlot to consult with him. But why? What did he know that Carnation thought was of the utmost importance? There was a simple answer; the same thing Applejack needed to know.

The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. And the more it made sense, the less she wanted to just sit around and muse over how much sense it made. Now was the time to actually do something about it.

“Alright,” Applejack said, nodding to herself. She folded down the page’s corner, then closed the diary and rose quickly. “4534 Sardar Way. Finally, somethin’ ta do. Come on, Rainbow, get yer rear in—”

But then she caught herself. Rainbow wasn’t here, she was reminded. She was still in Ponyville. 

“… gear….” Applejack finished to herself. She frowned, then shook her head. Get ahold of yerself, cowgirl. Yer a big girl; ya’ll do just fine without her holdin’ yer hoof the whole way.

Applejack nodded to herself, then turned towards the door.


~~***~~


Canterlot Castle was so… gawdy. This was the first impression Queen Aconita had while swiftly striding down one of its many long corridors.

The castle was so sprawling, and yet laid out in a mere two-dimensional format. Passageways were arrayed only on either side of her at ground level, leaving huge stretches of walls and the ceiling completely closed off. So many potential avenues, overlooked. Some rooms weren't even connected, despite being build side by side, or one on top of the other. Where was the sense in that?

Canterlot could be so much bigger without being so spread out. Such a waste. Everything was made of straight, simple angles, paying more attention to grandiose displays than functionality. Ponies were such… incomprehensible creatures.

Aconita only noted this in a peripheral sense, however. She compartmentalized these observations, referring to them only to note that she’d only need to worry about interception along a single plane, rather than having to check above and below as well, and that it’d take significantly longer than she’d anticipated for any sort of armed intervention to her presence. She was not here to criticize the… dubiousness of pony architecture.

As she walked, she continuously pumped ripple after ripple of magic out into the environment, scanning every space around her that her eyes and ears could not penetrate. The castle was indeed expansive, if not ludicrous and predictable, but that didn’t mean she could let her guard down. While Celestia was not, by all accounts, a terribly formidable opponent, she was hardly the only obstacle the ponies could present. Of this, she was well aware, and she would rather avoid unnecessary delays.

Far behind her, she sensed a powerful surge of magic giving chase. The little princess, no doubt. In her agitated state, little Twilight Sparkle was emanating enough magic to sense from across the whole city, let alone a few hallways ahead. It was so much brighter than the other sources dotting the rooms and floors all around her; so full of life and love…

She dismissed that thought as well. Now was not the time to let herself be distracted by… urges. But there was so much here… Not just from the ponies, either; it was in the air, like an echo that hadn’t quite finished ringing, or an ingrained scent that permeated every stone, tapestry and fixture. Love… so much love… It lingered about, not a part of any one source, but the remnants of countless lifetimes soaking into the environment like absorbed notes of perfume.

A part of her couldn’t help but understand now why Chrysalis had gotten so sloppy; it was so distracting, so intoxicating. The psychic imprint of innumerable happy ponies was making it difficult to stay on task…

Focus.

It was only through the strictly structured composition of her mind that she held off the pangs inside of her. That, and a lifetime of practice. She was here for a reason, she reminded herself, and that was all she needed to banish the hunger clawing around her insides to the darkest corner of her mind.

Aconita redoubled her concentration, closed her eyes, and cast her senses out again. She was on something of a timetable now and had to make haste.

In the darkness of her mind, lights bloomed. Here and there throughout the castle, little candle flames of various colors entered her awareness. Each moved amongst a slurry of ancient, ambient magic that glittered weakly. These were ponies, Aconita knew, but they were of little interest to her. It didn’t take her long to find what she was really looking for.

As the pulses of her magic reverberated through the old stonework castle, Aconita felt it touch a familiar signature. Unlike the ponies, whose magic was steady as a beacon of light, this source flickered like a spark. Erratic, even if only minutely. Changeling magic.

The moment her mind touched it, the sources snuffed out. Like clams snapping shut, they defensively shriveled away in an attempt to mask themselves. But Aconita could still feel them; try as they might, no drone could hide from a queen’s gaze. 

Up and down the castle, drones were snapping their heads up in alarm, tensing as wave after wave of Aconita’s searching magic throbbed through the castle. They could feel what was coming, and the weight of her oppressive presence pressed down on them all. Not one of them had to question what it was, or who it was.

Like cockroaches under a lightbulb, they scattered. Aconita could feel them; thirty, maybe thirty five individuals were suddenly racing through the void around her, all bound for a singular location.

A location that burned against Aconita’s mind. Where drones and ponies were but little lights floating in an nebula of vaporous magical echoes, one amongst them shown like an earthbound sun, so massive in scope that not even she could pinpoint it exactly. It was colossal, unbelievable in its proportions… For a moment, Aconita couldn’t help but pause and bat down the beginnings of second thoughts.

So, the princesses had brought Applejack to the castle after all. Aconita couldn’t say she was surprised. In fact, it was exactly as she’d feared.

She’d sensed Applejack from afar, back in Ponyville. But somehow, standing so close to it now, the young queen’s magic felt impossibly massive, too massive for what was still a developing creature. Could it somehow be bigger than before? If that was the case, she was running out of time.

Aconita began moving forward again, driven by purpose towards that sweltering star further down the hall. She kept her eyes shut, her senses still sweeping her vicinity for anything that might prove… bothersome.

But as she did so, something caught her attention. Something she did not expect.

Aconita froze on the spot, her head turning automatically towards the anomaly. Her eyes cracked open, and found themselves staring up into one of the corners of the hallway.

But she could still feel it. It was weak, so very weak, but unmistakable… and very confusing.

Somewhere high above her, something echoed against her magical scans. Something… old.

No… no that can’t be right…


~~***~~


Twilight sprinted for all she was worth through Canterlot’s soaring hallways. The afternoon sunlight cut diagonal shafts across the empty corridor, lighting her way, but not what she was after.

To Twilight’s mounting frustration, she found the hallway once again uninhabited by a towering invader. Aside from the single glimpse she’d caught earlier, she’d yet to catch sight of the imposing queen since. But she had a very good idea where she was headed. Only one thing in Canterlot would concern a changeling queen enough to go through the effort of a personal visit. And that something was currently sitting obliviously in a dining hall, by herself, completely unprotected.

While she made a beeline for the dining hall, however, Twilight couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding. At first she couldn’t identify why that was, and she didn’t pay it much attention. But as she ran, she did notice something that perplexed her, worryingly so.

Where were the guards?

On a normal day, she should have come across at least one patrolling guard by now. With Canterlot in such a state of heightened alert, that number should’ve gone up tenfold. Doorways should be manned, like they’d been earlier. Watchful eyes should have been everywhere.

But the halls were empty. Not just of maids and caretakers, but of everypony else as well. No sounds echoed through the doorways on either side of Twilight and nothing moved in her field of vision. Had the alarm already been raised? But then where was everypony?

Questions such as those were put on hold, however, when Twilight took another corner at full speed, huffing and puffing – and found her quarry right in front of her.

Queen Aconita stood fifty yards away, her back to Twilight. At first glance, it appeared like she’d paused mid-step. One long, gangly leg was raised and hung, forgotten, in the air. Aconita’s head was cocked to one side, as if listening to something.

Of course, when Twilight shouted at her, she snapped out of it real quick.

“Hey! Hold it right there!” Twilight shot at the top of her lungs. She was charging down the hall now, head down, ready to do whatever it took to protect her friend.

Aconita swept one eye in her direction, but if she was surprised or scared or anything else Twilight had been hoping to see, she hid it behind a granite façade. She did, however, remain in place as Twilight closed the distance and eventually skidded to a halt.

For a moment, Twilight faltered. She hadn’t realized just how much taller than her this queen was until she was standing in her shadow. She was towering, taller than even Celestia and a hundred times more intimidating because of it.

Her flowing sapphire mane shined in the sunlight, flashing as if made of metal filaments. Her eyes, cold as a glacier, gazed down at Twilight without inflection from under the long, jagged spear of her horn.

But Twilight didn’t lose heart. She stood at the ready, her horn presented and sparking threateningly.

Aconita just stared at her from over her shoulder. She didn’t say anything; she just stared.

All the same, Twilight braced. She knew enough about changeling queens to know that they weren’t to be trifled with, and this particular one had just singlehandedly bypassed every defense from here to the front gates of the city. There was no telling what such an individual could be capable of. She had to be careful; she couldn’t let her guard down for—

“Five floors up, twenty degrees north-northwest.”

Twilight blinked, taken off guard. “What?”

The menacing queen continued to look at her. “What is in that room?” she inquired.

Twilight stared at her for a moment, uncomprehending. Then, she jerked back into a ready stance. “Why should I tell you?”

Now Aconita rounded on her. “Do you or do you not know?” she asked, impatience supply an edge to her voice.

Twilight didn’t say anything. Her horn crackled as she glared. At the same time, she took in the queen’s mane, her carapace, and eyes, and something clicked. “You’re the one who kidnapped Rainbow,” she deduced. “You’re Agave’s mother. Aconita.”

Aconita didn’t respond. She continued to stare at her, cold eyes demanding an answer.

Twilight wasn’t fazed this time, however. She stood up, unfaltering, to the queen’s imperious gaze and met it with a glare of her own. “I don’t know what you plan on doing, or what you’re talking about,” Twilight growled, “but I’m not letting you get any closer to Applejack.”

Aconita still didn’t show any reaction.

“You could have hurt a lot of ponies at the Summer Sun Celebration,” Twilight went on. “But I won’t let you hurt anypony else!”

That got the first reaction so far. Aconita’s eyebrow rose, vanishing under her straight fringe. “Is that so?” she inquired. Her choice of tone sent a chill down Twilight’s spine. “As a matter of self-interest, I would watch my tongue if I were you, child.”

Twilight glared. “And why’s that?”

Aconita’s eyes narrowed. “It’s unbecoming of royalty to accuse another unjustly.”

Despite trying to remain focused, confusion cracked Twilight’s concentration. “Wait, what?”

Aconita stared down her muzzle at her, the picture of regal disdain. “If I wished to attack you, do you think I would be so sloppy that I would allow myself to be caught? Honestly now…”

Twilight gritted her teeth, crouching lower… as every door up and down the hallway creaked open. That was precisely when she realized exactly where the many missing royal guards had done.

A full platoon of armor-clad, spear-wielding stallions and – oddly – two mares armed with feather dusters shambled like zombies into the hallway. They’re eyes shown with an unsettling green light, gazes unfocused.

“I’m afraid, Twilight Sparkle,” Aconita said as Twilight looked around, pale-faced, “that your interference ends here. Do try to be gentle; I’m under the impression your bodies are somewhat… fragile.”

Twilight gasped and whipped around to face the queen again. But it was too late; already her long, crooked horn was ablaze with acidic light. Emerald fire leapt off of the marble tiles, encircling Aconita and rising almost as high as she was tall.

At the same time, every stallion and mare in the hall snapped their heads around in unison, locking onto Twilight with zombie-like expressions before proceeding to close in on her from every side.

Aconita was starting to sink into the floor and out of sight. On all sides of her, armed ensorcelled stallions were closing in like a vice, cutting off all avenues of escape.

All avenues, except one.

Twilight set her sights on the escaping changeling queen, her lip curling. That tunneling spell had to be aimed straight towards Applejack. Why she hadn’t thought to use it sooner, Twilight would never know, but at the moment, she didn’t care. Because it was either stay here, deal with the bewitched ponies before they hurt anypony or themselves and let Aconita get to Applejack, or it was time to do something exceedingly stupid…

As Aconita’s head started to vanish from sight and the portal began to constrict, Twilight made up her mind. She sprang forward, dodging a spear as it came thrusting awkwardly in her direction, and dove for the portal.

“Oh no you don’t!” she cried out as she went head-first into compressing darkness.

A split second after her tail cleared the portal, it snapped shut. The flames snuffed out with one last puff, leaving only a circle of char on the floor.

At the exact same time, the crowd of armed stallions and two random mares paused, before fading away like a congregation of phantasms.


~~***~~


The tight darkness was not a comfortable one for Twilight. It felt less like she was falling and more like she was being squeezed down some sort of throat against her will. All she could see was blackness; she couldn’t even make out her own hooves in front of her face.

But she knew that somewhere ahead of her was Aconita. She was not about to let her get away!

All at once, light burst in front of her eyes. A perfectly round opening widened in front of her, and before she could do much else besides register what it was, she was out into the open air.

Twilight flew out… then came crashing back down on her rump as gravity reasserted itself. For a moment, her equilibrium sent her for a loop, but she recovered within moments and jolted upright again, on guard.

But she did not find herself in the dining hall, like she’d been expecting.

Instead of a cavernous room, Twilight found herself in a small, round chamber completely devoid of furnishings. She could still see the dimples in the carpet where furniture legs had once stood, as well as the outline of a large carpet.

In one corner of the room sat a couch that was covered over with a white sheet. It was the sole occupant of the room, and it stood by like a fat ghost.

Directly in front of Twilight, she found a closed window front that opened up onto a small balcony. Beyond, she could see almost exclusively blue sky, a few tower tops, and little else. She must be very, very high in the castle.

And directly in front of her, standing with her back to her, was Aconita. She stood in the middle of the room, taking her time analyzing it with nonchalant ease, as if completely unaware of Twilight presence.

Perfect, Twilight thought, She didn’t realize I followed her.

Twilight grinned to herself, then took a step forward… only to realize she couldn’t. Her hoof remained glued to the carpet, unmoving.

Twilight tried to look down at it, only to realize that her neck wasn’t cooperating either. Too late, she realized, she was frozen in place, every muscle in her body locked tight.

“You certainly are a brave one, princess,” Aconita noted. Her voice drew Twilight’s gaze – the only thing she still had control over. “If not very, very naïve.”

She turned towards Twilight then, taking stock of her. “Come now. Did you think nothing of jumping into someone else’s spell?”

Twilight cursed to herself. Why hadn’t she considered that…

Aconita looked her helpless guest up and down once, then turned away. “Now then… would you be so kind as to tell me if you recognize this room?”

Aconita’s horn flashed. In response, Twilight’s neck turned itself of its own accord, guiding her eyes around the room. She had no choice but to look around.

The strange thing was, something about it did click. Twilights eyes fell on where a bed should have been, the outlines of a number of picture frames and painting that’d hung on the wall… Yes, the more she looked, the more she realized—

“Yes, I do,” Twilight’s mouth said traitorously.

If she could clap her hooves over her muzzle, she would have right then and there. Aconita’s spell, she realized, wasn’t just some paralysis spell. She’d taken way more control of her body than she’d realized.

But if it was magic, then maybe…

Aconita glanced back towards her, her interest rekindled. “Tell me; to whom did this room belong?”

Twilight fought as hard as she could to keep her lips shut. She knew the answer – it was right on the tip of her—

“My brother, Shining Armor, and Princess Mi Amore Cadenza,” Twilight’s voice droned, mechanical and stiff.

Twilight was so absorbed with trying to fight the enchantment ensnaring her that she did not notice how stiff Aconita had become. The changeling queen stood stock still for a moment, frozen in place. All of a sudden, she whipped her head around and threw Twilight a sharp look out of the corner of her eye. “Repeat yourself,” she ordered tersely.

Twilight did, despite her best efforts, right down to the exact tone and inflection. “My brother, Shining Armor, and Princess Mi Amore Cadenza.”

Aconita stared at her, her eyes wide with unmasked shock. The look was enough to distract even Twilight.

“… Amora…” Aconita whispered to herself. “Is that why… Chrysalis…?”

Aconita paused, then in a flash, her expression was once again a stony mask. “Tell me. What used to be standing over there?”

She then raised a hoof and pointed towards one side of the window – towards a set of three dimples in the carpet arrange close together.

Again Twilight fought. She could feel the magical compulsion now, snaking through her body and forcing its way into her every nerve. It brought out the memories, unbidden, searching through her head for her.

But she was getting a hold of it now. Just a little longer…

“A… night stand,” Twilight responded after some hesitation. And yet, Aconita didn’t seem to notice. She just stared at the spot, lost in her own world.

“And what was on top of it?” she inquired.

“I do not know,” Twilight responded dutifully.

“What was on top of it?” Aconita pressed, her voice growing hard.

“A… a case of some kind. It was always covered by a cloth. Cadence wouldn’t let anypony touch it when… when we helped her and my brother move…”

Almost… she almost had it…

Aconita took two sweeping steps forward, until she was standing over the spot that she was giving her undivided attention.

“So… this is where it went,” she mused quietly to herself. “After all these years… And to fall into the hooves one with such a name… could it actually be true…?”

Aconita took a moment to ponder to herself. Then she turned once again towards Twilight, with purpose now. “Where is this Mi Amore Cadenza,” she asked.

Twilight’s mouth opened of it’s own accord… and paused. A groan issued from her mouth, one that after a second or two, took the form of words.

“N…n… no…”

Aconita raised an eyebrow – just a moment before Twilight’s horn flashed as bright as the sun, exploding outwards with a blinding light. As it dimmed, vaporous tendrils of green smoke drifted off of her body – a body now fully under her control again.

“I’m not telling you anything else!” she shouted, before her horn erupted to life, and she blasted Aconita clean off her hooves and smashed her against the far wall hard enough to crack the molding.

She collapsed in a heap on the floor with a grunt while Twilight panted. Countering changeling magic of any caliber was not easy, and Aconita’s spell had taken a lot more out of her than the blast had.

“I don’t know what you want with Cadence, but it stops here,” she panted.

With a groan, Aconita righted herself, attempted to pick herself up, flinched, then straightened up fully. “I… see,” she grunted. “I must say, your prowess with magic was… was not exaggerated.”

She turned towards Twilight, wincing all the while. “You impress me, child. To break two of my ribs with one attack… It’s been a while since anyone’s managed that.”

“I was trying for a few more,” Twilight shot back. “And if you don’t surrender now, I’ll be forced to do that.”

Aconita let out a breath, her expression a mask of forced coldness. “I cannot acquiesce,” she grunted. “You… you have no idea what’s on the line. Yet you willfully ignore every single warning we give.”

“You call threatening us and attacking us warnings?” Twilight shot.

Aconita snarled at her; actually curled her lip and hissed through clenched, pained teeth. “Do not make me repeat myself, girl. Save your accusations for someone who deserves them.”

“And you don’t?” Twilight countered. “You broke into Canterlot, injured a lot of ponies, and attacked the castle, all to get at Applejack!”

“You blind, wretched little—” Aconita seethed… then stopped. She took a deep, steadying breath, wincing against the pain of her broken ribs, and composed herself. “You have no idea what’s about to happen,” she said, her voice steady and filled with cold fury. “I didn’t come to kill Applejack. I came here to remove her. For your sake, and for the sake of all of Equestria.”

Twilight looked at her, and while she did, she couldn’t help but feel a cold, sinking feeling in her heart. “What?”

Aconita glared right back. “Queen Applejack is about to become the single worst monster our race has ever known. And you will have no one to blame but yourselves. When she molts and her heart is consumed, the hole it will leave will drive her to suck this land dry. We have warned you what was coming, again and again, and yet you still ignored us!”

“Wait,” Twilight said, frowning now. “You… you tried to tell Equestria? But… we never heard…”

“Then you had best ask yourself why,” Aconita snapped. “Your time is running out, little pony. By sundown tomorrow, it will be too late. It is time to start asking yourself what you value more. Your friend? Or your kingdom?”

The door across the room suddenly was struck with enough force to throw them open wide in a shower of splinters. Ten armored guards came streaming into the room with a clatter of armor and thundering hooves, spears lowered.

Right behind them came Celestia, a frown on her face. “Twilight, stand back!” she ordered.

“Princess!” Twilight gasped, then whipped her head around the other way. Just as the last spark of a fading tunneling spell popped out of existence, leaving only char on the carpet.


~~***~~


Aconita reemerged amidst a cavern of innumerable crystals, each so resplendent they seemed to glow with their own light. She staggered slightly as she stepped forward, nearly tripping over a rusting, long-forgotten railroad tie.

She was not alone, however. A short distance away, a pair of glowing blue eyes turned in her direction, shortly followed by the rest of the changeling drone when she came scampering forward.

“Your Highness!” the drone said anxiously. “Are you alright?”

Aconita merely stood up straight. “I’m fine, Vanity.”

Vanity blinked at her as Aconita strode by, completely unhindered by any would-be injuries. Then, Vanity quickly hastened to fall into step slightly behind her. “Did everything go well?”

Aconita heaved a deep breath and let it out without difficulty. “Not in the way I was planning,” she said.

Vanity bit her lip. “Then… does that mean Applejack is still…?”

Aconita nodded.

“Then, what shall we do, Your Highness?” Vanity inquired. “Security in Canterlot is increased tenfold since we got here. It would be ill-advised to remain here.”

“Then let us leave,” Aconita responded plainly. “We are finished here anyway.”

Vanity frowned to herself for a moment. “But… with Applejack still at large…”

Aconita glanced back at her. It was all she needed to do.

“R-right,” Vanity said quickly. “Of course. May I inquire where we should away to?”

Aconita turned away again. “The Crystal Empire.”

Vanity paused at that. She couldn’t help her look of confusion now. “The… Crystal Empire?” she repeated.

“Yes,” Aconita responded. “There is something I must know.”


~~***~~


Lightning lanced across the cold northern skies. Thunder exploded amidst the dreary downpour raining down on a city of crystalline houses and streets.

From her room, high above the sprawling cityscape of the Empire, a lone mare stared up at the sky through the huge bay windows streaked by hours of downpour.

In her hooves, she rolled a small, jet black crown topped with four rubies. She rolled it one way, almost to the tips of her hooves, then the other, back and forth, as she absently stared at the skies, lost in thought.

For the first time since she’d gotten it out, Cadance looked down at the crown with a mercurial expression. She stared at herself in the perfectly round crown jewels. Thunder boomed across the sky again, echoing for many long seconds in her ears before the patter of rain took its place.

A knock on the door behind her snapped her out of it. It creaked slightly as it opened just a few inches to admit the head of a speaker.

“Princess Cadance?” inquired Rarity’s voice. “Is everything alright?”

“It’s fine, Rarity,” Cadance said, flashing a smile over her shoulder. “Give me a moment and I’ll meet you and Fluttershy downstairs.”

Rarity smiled, but there was a hint of concern still in those tired eyes. “Well… if you insist. Feel free to join us once you're ready.”

With that, she closed the door behind her, and was gone.

Cadance continued to look at the door for a few more seconds, just in case. Then, she returned her gaze down to the crown in her hooves.

Her smile melted away to a frown.

“What am I supposed to do?” she whispered to it. “You had a plan… right? There must be something I missed… We’re running out of time…”

She turned back towards the sky, her tired face weighed down even more by the deep worry that haunted it. “Applejack… please be alright…”


~~***~~


“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Y-yes, Princess, I’m positive.”

Celestia sighed with relief and relaxed, much to Twilight’s relief. She wasn’t sure how much more scrutinizing she could take from the worried alicorn.

Cadance’s old bedroom was now swarming with guards. Unicorns walked with their horns held low and lit, scanning the environment for a trail. Burly earth pony guards stood at the doors and on the balcony, glaring at anything and everything with weapons brandished. Pegasi whipped around the perimeter, searching the halls, tower exterior and castle as a whole with the speed of falcons.

But so far, they were coming up empty. For all the concern Celestia showed, however, catching Aconita was far from her top priority.

“If I may,” Twilight started, “how did you know where to find me?”

Celestia smiled. “The same way I always do,” she said kindly. “I’ve become quite skilled at tracking magically gifted fillies with a penchant for teleporting about, you know.”

Twilight flushed slightly at that.

But then Celestia’s expression fell, her mood sobering. “When I arrived at the dining hall and found it deserted, I feared the worst,” she explained. “I gathered up all I could and came after you, but—”

“Wait, the dining hall was empty?” Twilight cut across. Her embarrassment was instantly forgotten.

Celestia nodded grimly. “There was only this,” she said, and with a flick of her horn, she produced a familiar notepad and floated it towards Twilight for inspection.

It was covered in an almost unintelligible scrawl of countless notes. Twilight recognized Applejack’s hoofwriting with an internal grimace, but considering the circumstances, she overlooked it.

As her eyes swept over the chaotic mess of words, most of which were misspelled, Twilight noticed one final entry right at the bottom, written in the margin.

4534 Sardar Way

The moment she saw it, the color drained away from Twilight’s face. “Oh no… no, she couldn’t have…”

Celestia gave her pupil a concerned look, all the more-so when Twilight suddenly spun on her hoof and sprinted from the room, all-but knocking two of the biggest guards over in the process.

“Twilight! Where are you going?” Celestia called after her.

“To find Applejack!” Twilight shouted back. “We have to stop her from leaving the castle!”


~~***~~


Applejack tipped her hat at the gatekeeper, who smiled back as he cranked back up the drawbridge behind her. “Mighty kind of ya!” she shouted back, waving an orange fuzzy hoof.

Of course she was in her pony form. It was doubtful the stallion would’ve let her across the drawbridge if she’d walked up to him in her more natural appearance, no matter how nice he was.

As the drawbridge closed back against the walls of the castle with a boom and a sheet of pink light closed around it, Applejack turned back around to face the road ahead. She grinned to herself, eager to get moving. She pulled out a slip of paper, regarded the address one more time, then started off at a purposeful pace, away from Canterlot Castle and into the sprawling city beyond.

Hopefully Twilight got her note. She would’ve waited for her, but… well, she didn’t want to. This was something she wanted to do herself, and she knew she could.

With determination burning in her belly, she trotted off into the late afternoon day. As she did, she tried to ignore the fresh pang that ran up her foreleg all over again.