Witch sighs heavily, looking up from the map to try focusing on where they were, her eyes greeted by a seemingly endless sea of sandy dunes.
“I suppose asking if we’re there yet has just been answered…” Twilight comments drily beside her.
“At least we don’t have to try finding it from the ground like Leaf and Dee did…” Witch replies. “Wait… That’s the last way-station!” She points to a dune that seems like the rest but for the rising moon casting lengthy shadows, revealing the stone structure buried in sand. “Hang port seventy degrees. Shouldn’t be more than another two hours now!” she adds excitedly.
With the end of their current trip in proverbial sight, both grin at each other as Twilight turns the mini-zeppelin to the left, marking the turn by the stars dotting the night sky. “I don’t know how your brother and his marefriend found this place by hoof… The daytime was terrible…” Twilight responds, locking the wheel in place before turning back to Witch.
Witch shrugs. “It is part of their job… Did you see how many places Dee noted on the map about possible tombs and places to come back to?” She holds up the map in further illustration of this. “I don’t even want to think about how long this trip would take if you hadn’t been able to get this airship from the Cloudsdale Air Guard…”
“I doubt I would’ve gotten it at all if you hadn’t known Lieutenant Rapidstrike through Monkey Wrench…” Twilight smiles sheepishly. “Besides, I’m still having trouble using these, to be honest…” she adds, her wings fluttering briefly against her back.
“And there’s no way I’d be able to come along unless we went by hoof ourselves…” Witch points out, smiling reassuringly. “And after what I heard from Leaf? We both wanna see this place…” Twilight smiles back at her, grateful for her companion’s understanding.
Sighing, Witch passes the map over to Twilight and pulls out her notebook, grateful for their insulated cabin aboard the Air Guard Ship Cirrus. Desert climes were known for their harsh temperature variations. During the day, the airship lost significant altitude, almost downing them before they figured out how to keep the air inside the balloon hotter than the sweltering heat outside.
Still, this whole matter of the prophecy bothers her. Flipping back several pages, she reads over the copy of the ancient engraving, and the translation she remembered Luna speaking. Sighing again, she flips to the next page, eyeing her written thoughts on the application of the words. Her understanding is hampered by the phrasing. If, in fact, she represents “Hope” as she and Princess Luna believe, then what or whom represented Life that she could’ve come from?
The ship rocks suddenly, sending their bags toppling towards the back of the cabin. “Whoa!” Twilight exclaims, staggering towards the controls as the ship seems to skip like a stone on water through the air.
Witch shuts her notebook and pulls herself to her hooves despite the unsteady flooring. Looking out the window, she spies the dunes racing by them in a blur. “Caught a tailwind?” she suggests, moving over to check the speed. Eyeing the gauge, Witch’s jaw drops at how much the purposed tailwind has increased their flight.
“Uh… Witchy… And a downdraft…” Twilight responds, her voice shaking with barely suppressed fear as she prods at Witch’s shoulder. Witch glances at the princess only long enough to see her terrified expression directed forward before following Twilight’s gaze ahead; rocky hills loom larger and closer with each jolt.
“Oh shit…” Witch curses, looking frantically around for the altitude controls. Finding the lever, she pushes at it, fighting the wind shear to turn the control surfaces upward. The airship’s flight becomes rockier, forcing Twilight to constantly adjust their heading as the wind tosses their dirigible about.
“We can do this!” Twilight calls out encouragingly. “We’re climbing! Hold on, Witchy-yipe!!” she exclaims as the zeppelin lurches to starboard, sending her reeling backwards into the right-hoof control board.
“Cut the power to the engines!” Witch yells, focusing on keeping the wheel steady with her magic while putting her shoulder into pushing the flaps lever. “We’ll have to glide over!”
The magenta glow around Twilight’s horn fades away, and howling wind replaces the muted hum of the engines. The Cirrus’ speed comes down slowly, finally dropping from 170 knots but not slowing to the comparatively sedate seventy knots they’d been cruising at; the airspeed indicator wobbles but never dips below 100.
“We’re clear!” Twilight exclaims, relief clear in her voice as she stumbles back to the wheel. Sure enough, the ground below is now verdant with exotic growth.
Witch nods, relinquishing the steering to the princess. “Alright… Hold on!” she warns before pulling the lever all the way back, all while silently praying to any god listening that this plan would work. There’s an audible CLUNK as the control flaps switch positions. Her eyes glued to the airspeed dial, Witch smiles triumphantly as the arm plummets from over 100 to barely thirty-five knots. Her elation is short-lived though, as the Cirrus jolts one last time before turning downward into a freefall.
“Oh buck…”
Witch groans, waking with the soft, mossy ground under her cheek. She blinks rapidly, hoping to clear her vision, but it remains blurred. Overhead, she winces at the sight of the moon doubled, the light causing a lance of pain to spike through her head.
“Twilight?” Witch grimaces as her mouth refuses to cooperate fully with her query, slurring the consonants and drawing out the vowels. Despite the incomprehensible noise she made, she hears a groaned response.
“Witchy… Can you get to me?” Twilight asks. “I can’t move. I think I’ve got a broken leg over here…”
“Hnnnggg…” Witch groans, and tries to get her hooves under her. “A’igh’...” she slurs an affirmative as she stands, swaying wildly as the world spins dangerously underhoof. She staggers the few steps to her companion before stumbling and falling to the ground next to Twilight. “Don’ thin’ I’ll be much help… Thin’ m’concussed…” Witch stutters, trying desperately to enunciate her words.
“It sounds like it…” Twilight responds as Witch lays her head back down on the ground. “Witchy… You know you can’t sleep if you’re concussed… C’mon…”
Witch moans in protest, but raises her head slightly to try focusing her gaze on Twilight. “Keep… me… talk…” Her tongue refuses to cooperate with her will, or her brain is unable to issue the orders properly; either way, the unicorn is decidedly frustrated with her inability to communicate coherently.
“Right! Well um… OH! Remember that dream you had? The one that told you to find the Cradle of Life? Tell me about it again…”
Witch grimaces, recalling it through the fog clouding her mind. “The… hawk-pony-thing… made of brown stone…” she recalls.
“The hippogryph construct,” Twilight corrects gently with a nod.
“Right… That… He? It… called itself… the Librarian… It was calling me… the princess… of hope… I told him… it… it was wrong… I’m not… a princess… Stupid hawk-pony thing… Some librarian… Doesn’t know… that princesses… aren’t unicorns…” Witch labors to get the words out.
“Why’d it ask you to find its library?” Twilight prompts, again keeping her tone soft.
“Because… it serves… the princesses… Said the princess… of life… told him… it… ‘bou’ me… M’still not a princess…” Witch’s tone turns grumpy. “It said… the bracelets…” she trails off, her head nodding slowly downwards as her eyes droop closed.
“What’d it say about the bracelets, Witchy?” Twilight asks, an edge of panic creeping into her question as she raises her voice. She determines that keeping somepony talking was a lot harder than it seemed, especially since Twilight’s wary of touching Witch.
Witch’s head snaps back up, making her grimace. “The bracelets… accepted me… Said that… made me… the princess… of hope… But m’not a princess…” she explains, circling the same subject.
“Why do you think it kept calling you a princess?” Twilight queries, curiosity getting the better of her.
“Dunno…” Witch replies, her tone turning almost petulant. “M’not special… M’just… a doctor… M’no princess.”
Twilight opens her mouth to keep Witch talking but movement rustling the bushes surrounding their glade crash site stops her. Instead of speech, a high pitched squeak escapes her mouth as the moonlight illuminates the tip of a scorpion tail and tawny bat wings. Witch looks up from her mumbling, curious at first about Twilight’s sudden fearful noise and then anxious as the brush rattles more. Two sets of eyes go wide when a lion’s body pushes through the undergrowth, revealing an adult manticore male.
“Twily?” Witch whispers, her speech still inhibited enough that her friend’s full name is impossible. “Tell me... there’s only… one manticore... and m’just... seeing double?” she asks, her voice shaking.
“One’s bad enough…” Twilight responds, trembling, as the manticore’s golden eyes fall on the injured mares. It puffs up as it inhales and looses a deafening roar, drowning out the shrieks of terror that Twilight and Witch make. They recoil, flinging themselves backwards, winding up in a tangle of limbs, skidding backwards on their haunches across the mossy ground a foot or two.
Art courtesy of the lovely and WONDERful Foxena
Long moments pass, but no strikes fall upon them. Warily, Witch looks up, blinking rapidly to try to focus her vision. Still at the edge of the clearing, the manticore simply sits, placidly watching the pair of ponies with its reflective eyes.
“Don’ thin’ you need t’keep me talkin’... M’awake now…” Witch stammers, her speech no longer as slow or labored as it had been.
“Yeah…” Twilight agrees, hesitantly. “And I’m pretty sure it’s just a sprained wrist now…”
Shaking and scared silent, the pair keep their eyes on the normally violent creature even as it remains sitting there, patient as though waiting for something… or someone… to arrive.
“M’beginnin’ t’thin’ dis wasn’ such a good idea…” Witch murmurs quietly, leaning towards Twilight before a wave of dizziness makes her tip and lay over Twilight’s forelegs. The alicorn makes a pained noise, wincing at Witch’s landing.
“To which idea do you refer, Princess of Hope? I would be greatly saddened if you meant coming to my sanctuary, for I am very glad you chose to answer my call.”
Both Twilight and Witch shriek again, tumbling sideways as they reel away from the new voice to their side. The pair land in another tangled heap, this time with Twilight pinning Witch across her back, her wing awkwardly caught on Witch’s horn.
“GAH! I’s tha’ hawk-pony thin’!” Witch exclaims, pointing with a wavering hoof at the spot about three feet to the hippogryph’s left, her inaccuracy not ascribable to the purple wing partially obscuring her range of sight.
The hippogryph sighs, pinching the top of its beak with its talons in visible irritation despite its stone construction, muttering in a dialect neither mare could comprehend. “Given your obvious injuries, Your Loyalness, I shall not take offense at your crude descriptive skills,” it replies calmly before casting a silent glance to the manticore. To the mares’ surprised amazement, the beast simply nods, rises to its paws, turns and leaves the clearing the way it came.
The emerald green pendant on a gold chain around the construct’s neck glows intensely, and auras that match the gem’s verdant color surround Twilight and Witch, lifting them gently into the air as though carried on invisible stretchers. “I trust you and your friend will not object to waiting until your injuries have been treated before proper introductions and explanations are exchanged, but you may call me the Librarian,” it explains as it leads them through the forest.
Struck dumb, the bookish pair simply nod.
“Hey Witchy, wake up…”
Witch groans as her eyes crack open, light assaulting them. “Ow…” Witch puts her hooves under her and starts to force herself into a sitting position. Hooves keep her steady at her chest and back as she tilts to one side.
“Easy, Witchy… The Librarian said you’ll need to take it easy because of the concussion, but you’ll be okay in a day or two…” Twilight explains gently, her hooves stabilizing Witch as she sits up.
“What about your leg? Are you okay?” Witch asks, turning her head slowly and grateful that her vision was no longer blurred and doubled.
Twilight smiles brightly in response. “Oh! The Librarian fixed me up quickly enough after he made sure nothing would happen to his princess,” she responds with a wink and a teasing glint in her eyes.
Witch groans again. “Twily… not you too… Please?” she whimpers.
Twilight laughs. “Sorry… But he really considers you on par with a princess… It’s actually kind of strange to be treated… like being an alicorn is a disadvantage,” she replies, her expression turning puzzled.
“That would be because a god is inherently disconnected from ponykind, and bound by separate rules that have no meaning to mortals.” Witch makes a squeaking noise and nearly falls off her cot at the Librarian’s sudden appearance. Twilight saves her from that indignity by catching her and the Librarian has one corner of his beak turning upward in a nearly invisible sign of amusement. “I am very glad to see Your Loyalness awake. I trust you are feeling better this morning?” the Librarian queries as it approaches Witch and Twilight.
Witch’s jaw works, opening and closing, but no sound escapes until Twilight gives her a gentle nudge. “Eep! I mean… Er… Yes… I am better. Thank you…” she squeaks.
“Your concussion was quite severe. Any lingering symptoms?” it asks further, its glowing eyes almost looking through her.
“Um… Light sensitivity… and a bit of a headache still…” Witch answers, all while trying to calm herself down.
“Duly noted,” it responds, and the pendant flashes with green light, bringing two vials of amber colored liquid into existence at Witch’s hooves. “These should ease those symptoms and ensure your recovery within the day.”
“What are they?” Witch immediately asks, curiosity getting the better of her.
“They’re herbal tinctures that a previous Princess of Life discovered quite efficacious in treating concussions such as your own, Hope. If you should like, I would be happy to show you the gardens where I grow the plants necessary for such brews, as well as the notations for their creation.”
Witch’s eyes light up at the mention of medicinal practices before her brain catches what the hippogryph construct had called her. “Wait… Why’d you call me Hope? And Your Loyalness? And Princess for that matter?” Witch tenses as she delivers the barrage of questions, blue eyes narrowing behind her cobalt frames.
“That is why I requested that you come here,” the Librarian starts, seating himself before Witch and Twilight. “You embody Hope; therefore you are the Princess of Hope. It was tradition to call the Princesses of Order only by the aspect of Cosmic Harmony they embodied; Compassion, Love, Strength, Life, and Hope. They were the ruling council of the Empire of Equus, chosen by the Cosmos. I call you Your Loyalness because when the empire fell to Chaos, Hope was the only Princess who did not fall, loyal to the end despite the great suffering she experienced because of Chaos’ corruption.”
“But… How do you even know it’s me?” Witch asks, her tone pleading and desperate, while Twilight looks on with concern in her violet eyes. Despite the effects of the concussion, she knows that Witch had trouble accepting how extraordinary she is.
“You wear Hope’s bracelets, and only Hope may wear them,” the Librarian responds with a shrug as though that should explain everything.
“But a princess is an alicorn!” Witch retorts vehemently, pointing to Twilight who blinks in surprise at the hoof suddenly near her face.
The Librarian shrugs again. “In the days of Equus, Princesses were never alicorns… Alicorns were trusted advisors, as it would be foolish to ignore the wisdom of a god, but the last Council had two pegasi representing Compassion and Hope, two unicorn representing Love and Strength, and an earth pony representing Life. However, it seems the days have changed… In fact, three of the current Princesses are alicorns, representing Love, Strength and Life… I contacted Life and spoke to her at length about the new Princesses. You would know her as Celestia, I believe -”
Both Twilight’s and Witch’s eyes widen in shock. Witch is first to move after the Librarian’s name-drop. “No! You’re wrong! I’m not special! I don’t do anything anypony wouldn’t do!” she shouts in protest, standing on the cot. “I’M NOT A PRINCESS!!!” she exclaims at the top of her voice, ice blue magic sparking from her horn. With a loud pop, she vanishes from the bed, and reappears with another pop of displaced air near the door to the impromptu infirmary. Without a backward glance, she’s gone through them, the clatter of her hooves rapidly diminishing in volume.
Twilight sighs at her friends hasty departure, casting a sheepish glance to the Librarian. “We’d better just wait for her to come back… Witchy’s been tetchy about the whole thing since the Grand Galloping Ball…”
The Librarian sighs, clearly disappointed as he pinches at the top of his beak with talons. “I find myself longing for the days when the Princesses were easily found, and grew up knowing of their duties to the Empire…” The emerald pendant flashes and the vials sprout ephemeral green wings, allowing them to flit after Witch. “Until she returns, I would like to become better acquainted with you, if you have no objections.”
“None at all.”