“Princess, are you all right?” Twilight asked.
“I… yes, I am fine,” Celestia replied, staring at the dark, empty great hall.
“Umm…”
Celestia sighed and gave her a weak smile. “Well, not entirely. This place brings up memories. Most of them wonderful, but a few of them are exceptionally… hurtful.”
Twilight nodded. “Yeah, I think I get the idea.”
They left the comforting warmth of the morning sun and trotted inside. The place had seen some rain recently; a few glistening pools of grimy water remained on the uneven flooring, and Twilight shivered a little when a few chilling drops fell from the ceiling and soaked into her coat.
“This is the place?” Celestia asked when they reached the ruined library.
“Yes. Watch out for the spiders.”
As if on cue, a star spider skittered across the floor between two bookshelves. But before it could reach the shadows, Celestia plucked it into the air with her magic and levitated it close for inspection. It didn’t seem to mind as she turned it this way and that, as if inspecting a rather fine piece of jewellery.
“Hmm…”
“What is it?”
I believe I might have an idea of how you all managed to escape the projection the first time,” Celestia released the spider, then turned to Twilight. “Did your friends confirm having any bites?”
“Well, Applejack, Fluttershy and Rarity did. Dash and Pinkie couldn’t say for sure, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they got milder ones that went away quickly.” Twilight frowned. “But that only indicates the mechanism of our entry, not our escape.”
Celestia nodded sagely. “True, but it’s also possible that you didn’t integrate with the projection the first time around. When the venom wore off, so did your sensitivity and ability remain within the projection. You must’ve done something quite differently in your second trip there.”
“Well, we actually talked to Summer the second time.”
“And if she really is that closely tied to the projection, then that could’ve sealed you and Spike in,” Celestia concluded. “Either that, or restoring the Tree of Harmony has affected the nature of magic in this area, allowing you to remember when others have simply forgotten.”
“Either way, I guess it’s a good thing we got through to her, then.” She shivered. “I can’t imagine staying in there for so long, forgotten every time…”
Celestia gestured forward with a wing. “Shall we?”
Twilight nodded and trotted deeper into the library with her, listening for the tell-tale ghostly whispers and eerie wind. Sure enough, when they slowed their pace and lightened their steps, she felt the pervasive wrongness that Summer Cloud’s pocket reality asserted on the waking world.
“Can you feel it?” she asked.
“Yes. There’s definitely a stable rift around here. Just give me a moment.”
Twilight followed in silence as Celestia stalked about the ruined library with her eyes closed and horn aglow, deftly avoiding debris and puddles of grime as she searched for something that only she could sense. She meandered here and there, slowly drawing closer to what Twilight recognised as the remains of Summer Cloud’s private study. Parts of the ceiling had caved in, and a couple of twisted vines had set their roots down between the cracked stone blocks.
Eventually, Celestia halted and sat on her haunches.
“This looks like a good place to start. Are you ready to join me?”
Twilight released a breath that came out in a cloud and then mumbled an affirmative as she sat down beside her mentor.
Celestia nodded, and the golden aura around her horn intensified to a brilliant halo that drove away the shadows, even around corners and angles. Twilight felt her cast a safety ward, one that would alert her of any impending threats to their physical bodies whilst their minds wandered the astral projection, followed by a more complex weave that would supposedly enable them to enter without the aid of any spider venom.
The light flooded the immediate area, engulfing everything until she couldn’t make out solid objects anymore. A wave of vertigo washed over her, and the blinding light dimmed to tolerable levels, revealing the ethereal library from her memories. Unlike the real world, though, it had the dreary ambience and lighting of an evening with the promise of heavy rain. The moaning winds outside the walls echoed throughout the dim library, and cold drafts played with the flickering flames of ensconced torches.
It took her a moment to gain her bearings, but Twilight soon managed to plot their vector to Summer Cloud’s study that should hopefully avoid any unwanted surprises in the shadows. She set off at a brisk trot, and caught a glimpse of Celestia reluctantly taking her eyes off the shelves to follow along.
They found the room in a much better state than she remembered. Nearly everything had been put back in place and cleaned up, save for the bookshelf that Spike had incinerated. She found no trace of the grey mare as she entered, though.
“She always did like spending time in this place. It’s almost exactly as I remember a thousand years ago.” Celestia chuckled and pointed at the griffon skull perched atop one of the cupboards. “I can’t believe she’s even kept old Gerard in here.”
Twilight arched an eyebrow.
Okay, never mind. You can ask about the creepy skull later. Where is she?
She trotted back out, wondering if Summer had somehow managed to leave on her own, only to yelp when a mountain of books floated round the corner of an aisle and threatened to flatten her.
“Yikes!” She just about managed to brake in time.
The glowing stack, easily twice the height of a regular pony, shifted to the side to reveal a pair of amber eyes.
Summer Cloud blinked. “Twilight Sparkle? Why in the world have you come back? Did I not tell you to—”
Her flustered gaze flicked past Twilight, and her jaw suddenly went slack. Her ears drooped, and her horn’s aura winked out, leaving the several dozen volumes in the air at the mercy of gravity.
Twilight gasped and grabbed them with her own magic to save them from scattering all over the floor, then turned to find Summer staring at Celestia, working her mouth like a goldfish out of water.
Celestia smiled and inclined her head a tiny bit. “Hello, my little pony.”
Summer hesitantly took a step forward, trembling. “I—you…”
“It’s been too long.”
A choking noise escaped Summer, and she grit her teeth and scrunched her glistening eyes shut. Then, she exploded into motion, dashing towards Celestia like a mare dying of thirst to water. Twilight winced at the rather hefty impact, but neither of them seemed to have minded. Celestia embraced her with both wings, and a smothered wail came through, followed by heart-rending sobs as Summer shook and shivered with her face pressed to Celestia’s chest, holding her tightly with both forelegs as if she might disappear forever if she dared to let go.
Umm…
Twilight shuffled uneasily in place as the crying continued. After a moment, she decided to make herself useful and carefully placed the stack of books on the cleanest bit of flooring she could find before retreating.
“I’ll just… uh, I’ll be over there, somewhere,” she whispered, gesturing vaguely with a hoof.
Celestia glanced at her and nodded an affirmative, gently patting Summer on the shoulder.
Twilight wandered off by herself and browsed through books at random. She couldn’t effectively absorb anything she read, though; her mind churned with thoughts of what Summer and Celestia might be saying to each other, and what she might say if she had been the one left alone for centuries in an astral projection.
“Well, fancy seeing you back here, Twilight.”
Okay, not exactly alone.
She turned and smiled at the bearded stallion. “Hi, professor.”
Parch Mint grinned back. “I’ll admit that I didn’t expect to see you back so soon.”
“I did make a promise.”
“So had others before you, but you’re the only one to have made good on your word.”
Twilight frowned. “I’m not sure if we can really blame them. The magic of this place—”
“Ah, I don’t mean to call their honesty or resolve into question,” he said, waving a hoof. “But that’s not important right now. I’m certain that we’ll have more to discuss regarding what the princess would have us do now that she’s found us.”
Twilight wanted to reassure that they would find a way to free him and Summer, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. Celestia’s expertise on astral projections far outweighed hers, but even she had not willingly given any indication of possible solutions when pressed for details. And she already knew how much false hope could hurt.
“I… I’m sure we can work something out,” she eventually said.
“Doubtless.” He smiled and gestured down the aisle. “In the meantime, would you care for a little chat while Summer gets reacquainted with her teacher? Now that I have access to the rest of the library, I would very much like your comments on some points on thaumaturgy that I never got to see tested in my lifetime. I’ve got a very comfortable, proper workplace to call my own, now.”
Straining her ears, she could still hear faint echoes coming from the study. She couldn’t quite make out the words, but they definitely did not sound ready for more company anytime soon.
Might as well.
“Yeah, I think I’ve got some time.”
* * * * *
“Anyway, that’s why we preferred the leyline inversion technique for transmutations. It allowed a single unicorn to bypass the limitations of Haymaker’s Equation and cast the spell alone,” concluded Parch Mint. He then raised an eyebrow when Twilight continued to frown. “Eh? Something the matter?”
“Yeah. I think that went out of practice soon after you disappeared. Your associates had other ideas on how to do it.”
“Were they better?”
She shook her head. “Not for sixty years, I think. And not long after they perfected it, somepony came along and did it your way and revolutionised the practice almost overnight.”
“Hah! Brilliant!” He thumped his hoof triumphantly on the table between them, and then his grin soured. “Huh. I don’t suppose they ever credited my work?”
Twilight shifted a little in her seat. “Well, Pristine Ember did admit that it wasn’t entirely her idea, but I don’t recall her explicitly naming you in any of her research. Sorry.”
Parch Mint rolled his eyes. “Typical youngsters; they never bother to get their citations right.” He then sighed, sinking into his couch as he gazed at the vaulted ceiling above them. “What I wouldn’t give to have a class again. Not that I overly like rowdy upstarts, but I miss straightening them out and teaching them to fear deadlines.” He cackled.
Teaching…
Twilight scratched the back of her neck as she gazed at their surroundings, taking in the dimensions of his rather spacious study. With a little rearrangement of the bookshelves and a few desks, they could make it work…
“You know,” she said slowly, watching for his reaction. “That’s not a bad idea.”
“Eh?”
She smirked. “Would you really like to have a class again? Princess Celestia has a more reliable way of bringing ponies in and out of this projection; I’m sure there are plenty of ponies from Canterlot University – and all other universities, come to think of it – who would jump at the chance to learn history and magic from you, once they know exactly where and when you’re from.”
Parch Mint’s eyes widened and gleamed. He drew in a sharp breath and raised a foreleg, but midway through the gesture, he placed it back on the table and exhaled, schooling his burst of excitement down to something more dignified. “Now, now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’ll admit that the idea kicks my heart rate up like no other, but let’s make sure that the princess is amenable to the arrangement before I get my hopes up, eh?”
Twilight nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, I suppose.”
She glanced out the window, but the stormy weather still hid the sun, and she couldn’t quite remember how much time had elapsed since they’d begun their discussion. Turning back to Parch Mint, she said, “Well, I think they should be done catching up by now. We should see what they’re up to.”
“Agreed. Follow me.”
She trotted after him back to Summer Cloud’s study, and they found the door closed when they got there. Twilight couldn’t hear their voices – probably the result of a bubble of silence – so she knocked on the door gently, then louder again when nopony answered.
“Just a moment.”
The bolt scraped out of its slot, and the heavy door slowly creaked open, revealing the candlelit interior and a rather puffy-eyed Summer Cloud. Celestia’s eyes looked a little red, too. They both sat on resplendent cushions placed on the floor, surrounded by neatly-arranged stacks of tomes and unfurled scrolls, like a pair of academicians in the midst of all-engrossing research.
Princess Celestia smiled at them as she gestured with a wing to another pair of cushions that had appeared in the room. “Sorry for forgetting about you, Twilight. Care to join us?” To Parch Mint, she added, “Summer has told me about you, but I don’t think we’ve ever met.”
Parch Mint bowed. “Evening, your Highness. It’s not often we get royalty here.”
Twilight tuned out their chatter for a moment, staring at the floor as she pondered on how to broach the topic of opening up Everfree’s hidden library to other ponies, but a shadow suddenly fell across her path to the cushion. Looking up, she found Summer Cloud by her side, shifting a little uneasily as if uncertain on how exactly she needed to behave. She caught her eyeing her wings every now and then.
“Princess Twilight, I… I have something to say to you.”
“Go ahead. Also, just call me Twilight and leave out the bowing.”
“Very well. I just—I’m sorry for mistreating you and Spike. I’m sorry for nearly cursing you with the same wretched fate as mine.” She leaned in close and whispered, “And from one of Celestia’s apprentice to another, thank you for keeping your promise, even after I had scoffed at and derided your conviction. Thank you for hel—” She sniffled and wiped her eyes. “…thank you for leading Princess Celestia to me.”
Summer Cloud hugged her tightly, and after getting over her surprise, Twilight reciprocated feeling a little teary herself.
“If there is ever anything you need, Twilight, if it is within my power, ask and I will do my best to repay your kindness.”
Twilight eased out of the hug and smiled at Summer. “You don’t have to keep it hanging over your head, but I appreciate it. I’ll remember to—”
She paused for a moment, then rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Actually, now that you mention it, we could use your help with something.”
“Name it.”
Twilight glanced at Celestia and lifted a hoof to forestall further questions from Summer and Parch Mint. “First, I’ll need to check something with her.”
Celestia chuckled. “Well, now is as good a time as any to lay out plans. But before you do,” – here, she levitated a sizeable plate laden with an assortment of pastries over to Twilight – “would you care for something to nibble?”
“Wow. Just a nibble, huh?” Twilight stared at the honeyed scones, caramel-glazed apples and thick slices of criminally rich chocolate cake, then blinked and gave Celestia a look as she took the smallest piece she dared.
“I believe I’ve gotten the hang of this place’s oddly flexible wish-granting functions,” Celestia said with what Twilight could almost categorise as a smirk. “Also, I’m not afraid to dream big.”
Parch Mint chuckled when Twilight raised an eyebrow at that comment. “Heh, I like this princess. I like this princess a lot.”
“You were about to ask me something, Twilight?” Celestia prompted.
She swallowed her mouthful of cake and nodded. “If you could teach that spell for entering this plane to me or other unicorns, I think we could keep a steady schedule of visitors to Everfree Castle. Since this place has hundreds of out-of-print books that I’m pretty sure can’t be found anywhere else, we’re going to have lots of ponies tripping over themselves to catalogue and transcribe them into hard copies once again.”
Twilight tapped her hooves together, blushing as her quavering voice betrayed her excitement. “There aren’t many things I wouldn’t give up to get a chance like that. Also, I’m sure that Parch Mint and Summer Cloud would make amazing lecturers; we could organise study trips here! If you could spare some guards and staff to keep the corporeal side of Everfree safe and hospitable, of course. Given time, we could even restore the castle!”
Summer Cloud’s eyes widened. “Wait, but that would mean…”
“Exactly what it implies.” Parch Mint chuckled and waggled his eyebrows at her. “Be careful what you wish for, because now you’re going to have to fend off a hundred greasy-hooved archaeologists and historians from your precious books. Not to mention students who don’t know squat about returning books on time and to the right shelves.”
“It’s certainly doable. Once I’ve hashed out the logistics with everypony involved, it shouldn’t be too hard to get an outpost up and running, and a skilled unicorn can manage the necessary spellwork to bring ponies in and out of this place,” said Celestia. She smiled at Summer’s apparent trepidation and added, “Only if you find the extra company agreeable, of course. I imagine that would be quite a shift from your usual fare.”
“Well, I for one cannot wait to start filling up this generation’s empty skulls with something useful,” Parch Mint declared with a mean glint in his eyes. “Also, I’m quite certain that I get to be the first undead professor in the last five hundred years!”
Twilight frowned. “I wouldn’t exactly categorise your condition as undead, but—”
“Eh, it’s close enough. I can’t die and I’m not alive in any conventional sense.”
Summer Cloud nodded in agreement, but then turned to Celestia and rather tentatively asked, “Is there any chance that you know how to restore us?”
Celestia’s casual cheer faltered a bit as she shifted uneasily. “I’m afraid not, my faithful apprentice. I know of no spell that can restore either of you back to living, breathing bodies. I can check with the professors at Canterlot University, but I would ask you to temper your expectations on any possible avenues of research. This branch of magic hasn’t lost much of its taboo since your time.”
That got a little sigh from Summer. “Well, I cannot complain. This is still far more than I could have expected.” Then she smiled at Twilight and Celestia. “Just give me some time to prepare myself; I would be happy to continue serving as librarian and welcome anypony you see fit to bring to these forgotten halls. I will see to it that Everfree Library is worthy of its name once more.”
Twilight’s smile widened. “That’s wonderful! Just think about how much we could learn from each other.”
“More importantly, I think you’ve made some friends,” Celestia added. When Twilight and Summer nodded in agreement, she levitated the platter of confectionaries closer and added, “Now, let’s not these perfectly good treats go to waste. I’d love to hear more of anything you ponies have learnt or accomplished in your time here, as I’m sure you’d love to find out more of the outside world.”
Oh.
Despite herself, Twilight couldn’t help feeling a minor twinge of disappointment that they weren’t going to start working on the logistics of restoring Everfree straight away instead of making small talk. She already had several checklists and contingency plans all drawn up inside her head, begging to be put on paper. Some of it must’ve shown on her face, because Parch Mint suddenly grinned at her.
“Can’t wait to get started, eh?” he asked.
“Well, it wouldn’t hurt to wait a bit, I guess.”
“Well, just between you alicorns and us deathless wraiths, I think it’s a price we can afford.” He then raised his cup of tea. “After an age of sitting alone in the shadows, I think that having a real friend to talk with, on the other hoof, is priceless.”
Celestia chuckled and raised her tea as well. “To friends.”
As one, they raised their cups.
“To friends.”