“Rainbow Dash? Come inside for a bit, you're letting the rain in! Spike, could you get the door?” Twilight asked, pulling the waterlogged pegasus toward her in a kinetic field. Sunset grimaced; Most pegasi had an innate water resistance to their fur that let them fly through clouds and other mist and fog without getting soaked and consequently frozen in the cold air of high altitudes (it was incidentally also very good for getting away from unfortunate spills relatively unscathed). The fact that Dash was soaked through meant that the rain was intense and driving, or that she had been out in it for some time. Both was the most likely answer.
“Oh, Rainbow! You're dripping everywhere—er, not that that's your fault. Are you okay?” Twilight's face was concerned as the chromatic mare shook herself violently (thankfully not near anything that could take water damage in the main hall).
“Yeah, I'm fine. Just got my fifth shower of the day in—listen, we need your help out there. This storm isn't right. There's something wrong about these clouds; they're...they're too stubborn.” Dash sounded uncertain as she spoke, like she didn't want to speak about the matter. “I've dealt with a lot of strange weather and this is the first time I've seen clouds that grow back after we bust 'em.”
Twilight furrowed her brow. “I've never heard of that either, but I'm not really that well-versed in weather magic. Let me take a look in the library--” She made an oof noise as Dash bodily seized her and made for the exit.
“THERE'S NO TIME FOR EGGHEAD STUFF, TWI! WE GOTTA GO!”
“Ugh, Rainbow! Sunset, Spike, stay here and keep an eye on the palace! I'll be back as soon as I can!”
Sunset's heart leapt to her throat as Rainbow Dash flung open the main doors.
“W-wait! I'll come too! I might be able to help!” She scurried to the entrance, immediately taken aback by the surge of wind that slowed her to a walk. What she saw showed her just how out of her element she was.
The sky churned. Barely visible behind the slashing curtains of rain were bright shapes weaving in and out of the morass of the clouds. A harrowing gale tore through the air, switching direction seemingly at random and whipping her mane against her face. There seemed to be no sunlight for miles; a veil of shadow hung heavy over the town as thatched roofs seemed to only barely hold together in the punishing, wailing winds and gutters and streets ran inches deep in torrential waters.
Rainbow had come out of this? Rainbow was going back into this? She was taking Twilight into this?
Not for the first time in her life did Sunset find herself at a loss. How could she help out here?
“Get back inside! You can't do anything, so just wait it out indoors! We'll handle this, like we always do!” Rainbow shouted over the din of the storm, apparently heedless of the water pounding into her mane and coat. Twilight did not shout, but did motion to Sunset to head back indoors, squinting to detect the unicorn through the veil of rain. A final flash of lightning sealed the deal, the amber mare backpedaling instinctively as Spike struggled to close the door behind her. With an authoritative rumble, the sound died down, leaving Sunset soaked, miserable and helpless to do anything to help her friend. Again. She sniffled involuntarily, but quashed it as soon as she realized she was.
“Got a cold already, Sunset? Well, don't you worry! I know a soup recipe that'll have you on your hooves in no time. I'll bet Twilight and Rainbow Dash could use some once they're done figuring out whatever the problem is.” Spike announced cheerfully from the door. “Here!” Sunset felt a towel land unceremoniously on her back. “You dry yourself off and I'll get it started.”
She wiped her eyes. Yeah. It was a cold.
A half-hour later, the tempest continued to roar outside and there'd been no word from anypony. Sunset's uneasy worry had only increased with every minute's passage. Even Spike's special soup (admittedly a very nice broth that tasted faintly of garlic) hadn't helped her calm down, and the young dragon seemed to be beginning to feel trepidation of his own as they sat in the main hall. Either that, or Sunset's obvious discomfort was starting to rub off on him.
“...It's probably just a complex problem.” Spike reasoned aloud, after another protracted silence. “They're fine; she's just trying to look at it the way Twilight does, from every angle.”
Sunset glanced at the dragon; he was staring at her, eyes begging for some kind of confirmation. She didn't have it in her heart to disagree, and nodded. “Yeah, that's probably it.” Spike nodded, gaze returning to his rapidly cooling bowl of soup.
Another pause followed. Sunset listlessly poked her spoon, the silverware circling her bowl.
“...you know, this is how I feel all the time.”
She sat up, confused. “I'm sorry?”
Spike looked at her, his expression deeply unnerving to the mare. It was a strange, distant, tired look that had no place in the eyes of a child. She fought the urge to look away; she owed him this courtesy.
“The worry you're feeling. The fear. Are they okay? Will they make it? What if something happens and I'm not there to help? What if something goes wrong? What if, what if, what if.” Spike sounded so...exhausted. “Do you know what that's like?”
She blinked. “I...well, I mean, sort of?”
The suddenly old beyond his years dragon looked her directly in the eyes, his face at once guilty and sad. “You know it now, one way or another. Twilight Sparkle is a hero...but being a hero means she has to do some pretty crazy stuff on a regular basis.
“You know how much I contribute to that, Sunset?” He slipped down from his chair, pacing slowly and looking at Twilight's throne as he spoke. “I don't. I'm...a sidekick in this story, tops. It's always the ponies I love the most risking their lives in whatever terrible situation they're in while I watch. I thought I made peace with that, but it comes back, every time.”
Spike stopped, looking at her. She felt an unpleasant nausea as he continued. “Every time she goes off to save the world, or just save a random pony, I wonder if she's really gonna be okay. She tries to be brave, she tries to be assertive and strong for ponies. But I grew up with her. I know when she's putting on a smile so others won't worry, because she only learned to do that recently.”
Sunset paled. “Why not talk to her friends about it? Why not talk to Celestia? Why not talk to you? Or even me?”
Spike made a mirthless smile. “Twilight seems to think she carries the weight of the world. Heck, she might. I don't really know anymore. But you're not any different, are you?” He gave her a pointed expression. Sunset frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“Sunset, I hope you won't take this the wrong way, but you and Twilight are so similar to each other it's frightening. Honestly, you could've been her and she could've been you. You even have similar mannerisms when you eat, when you walk, when you open and close containers, doors, windows.” Spike closed one eye, thoughtful. “It's not a stretch to think you might think the same way, too. So I guess what I'm trying to say is, don't try to carry that stuff alone. I don't; that's why I'm talking to you now. Twilight's the same way. Keeping mean or unhappy thoughts in your head, never really talking about it.” He climbed back into his chair, the pensive face gone.
“I mean, I don't have this comprehensive grasp of magic or crazy adventure stories...well, I have a few, but not as many as you might. But I can tell when someone needs a friend. So talk to us if you have to! Twilight likes you, and you've been a lot nicer since our first meeting, so I like you too.”
Sunset blinked and swallowed. “...you're pretty zen for a baby dragon, you know that?”
Spike shrugged and smiled. “I'm a growing boy. Sometimes that includes my brain.”
Sunset giggled despite herself, Spike chuckling too.
Their laughs were interrupted by a crash as a gray pegasus fell through the window, landing with an audible crack and a groan.
“Thunderlane! Holy Celestia!” Spike swiped their soup off the table as he jumped up, ignoring the clattering of broken dishes to turn over their surprise guest. Sunset glanced up at the offending window, casting a minor barrier charm on it to keep the rain out while she returned her attention to the stallion Spike was gingerly laying on his side and picking bits of glass out of. “Thunderlane, you okay, buddy? Speak to me!”
The stallion (who was apparently Thunderlane) shook his head. Sunset found herself shocked that he was even alive, let alone conscious. Ponies really were made of some sterner stuff than humans, she supposed.
“Ugh...Spike? This the Princess's place?”
“Yeah! What happened, Thunderlane? Are Dash and Twilight okay?” Spike seemed to be restraining himself from yelling, but his anxiety was clear to see.
The stallion groaned, shakily rising to his hooves on the table. Sunset raised a hoof in concern, but he seemed to stabilize well enough. “Dash...Dash and the princess were on the roof of the town hall. Were yelling about something, but I couldn't hear it. Think a stray bolt of lightning knocked me outta the sky. I gotta get back out there...” He turned to go, but an unpleasant crack sent him to his knees, hissing in pain.
“What happened?! Are you okay?” Sunset jumped to her hooves in alarm.
“I...I think I broke something in m-my left wINGYESOKAY it's the left wing yep no moving that one nope nope nopenopenope...” Thunderlane repeated to himself, lying down on his right side unhappily. He seethed with pain as he finished, “I'm not gonna be any good to anyone like this, I can't even SEE straight.”
Sunset blanched. “I've...I've gotta go help Twilight.”
The graphite colored stallion waved a hoof at her. “Hold on, miss. You ain't gonna last long out there—hey!” Sunset was already galloping for the door and practically tearing it off its hinges, slamming it shut behind her as she went out into the rain.
Thunderlane looked at Spike. “Spike, listen. Your friend is about to find out just how unpleasant this storm is. It ain't natural; there's something all wrong about it. She's gonna be toast without some kind of help. I mean, somepony must've noticed how nasty it is out here, but still...if only we could get a message out to the guard or something.” He frowned, resignation on his face. “I guess we're just gonna have to hope they get here quick enough to help pick up the pieces.”
Spike stared into space, thinking.
Wait.
There was one way he KNEW he would get an answer quickly.
“Thunder, just relax here, okay? I'll be right back!” And with that the dragon skittered off, snatching a lantern to light his way.
“Okay. Cool. I'll just chill here with the dull throbbing pain. No hurry.”
Sunset was already regretting her decision. She couldn't see more than four steps ahead and if she didn't focus on the path beneath her hooves she would've wandered into the countryside four times in the past minute alone. She could only just hear the pounding of her heart in her ears as she squinted into the storm, trying to make out the town hall. She was reasonably sure the indistinct shape ahead of her was the fountain because it was overflowing with water and making it very difficult to progress forward without literally wading somewhere. That must mean that the town hall was only a few meters east, but she had no way of determining which way was north!
A sharp pain registered as she realized something carried by the wind had just hit her head, but she had no way of knowing what it was, and didn't really have time to consider as she decided to just pick a direction and hope for the best. As long as she was careful to stay on the path she would be fine.
Fortune seemed to be with her as she managed to spot a violet light in the air above and ahead of her. Sunset's heart swelled; the only caster who could possibly still be active in this mess had to be Twilight. She followed the luminescence, never taking her eyes off it despite the wind and rain, and was rewarded when her hooves caught on the front steps of a patio that sent her stumbling. She scrambled up the stairs, sighing with relief as the building have her a bit of shelter from the squall.
Her luck didn't seem to hold as she realized the door was locked, an insistent pull from her cyan spellfield yielding nothing. The doors were solid, which was doubtlessly good for the ponies that were inside, but not so helpful for Sunset, who remained stuck outdoors. Worse, she was reasonably sure that the town square was actually starting to flood.
A detached, academic corner of her mind wondered how this was possible; Ponyville wasn't situated near any significant bodies of water larger than a medium sized pond that she was aware of, and as bad as this storm was it couldn't have rained so much that something so small could've overflowed to such an extent. Could it?
Sunset's internal musings were halted when a dull WHAP sounded next to her. The window behind her had made a noise; rather, the pale pony on the other side of the window had. She motioned for the door with a hoof, and Sunset gratefully made for the entrance as it opened just enough to let her through.
The inside of town hall was an almost comically subdued place, after the havoc of the outdoors. It was ostentatious by the standards of the rest of Ponyville, but compared to most governmental buildings both in Canterlot and even back in the other world, it was quite relaxed. A few balconies, some drapes here and there, a few framed portraits of previous mayors and what looked to be a few members of the Apple Clan...all told, it was very succinct and to-the-point, with the only apparent concession to bureaucratic arrogance being the high, vaulting dome that dominated the main lobby. Sunset supposed that the stage at the back allowed this to serve as a meeting hall for legislative purposes. She almost felt bad for dripping all over the place.
The atmosphere inside did not match the decor, as she noted. There weren't many ponies here; one earth mare in particular with a silvery gray mane and a dull yellow-brown coat was looking particularly frazzled as she stared out the windows. She glanced Sunset's way and started, her eyes widening to saucers as she rushed to meet the unicorn.
“Ah! Someone from outside! Are you from Canterlot, miss? Our weather teams have been unable to break this storm and we--”
Sunset raised a hoof and interrupted, apologetic. “I'm sorry, ma'am. I'm just here looking for Twilight Sparkle. I'm staying with her and I was worried about her and another friend...”
The earth pony gave her a sidelong look. “Princess Twilight never said anything about someone staying with her. Regulations state anyone living in town needs to come register with town hall—oh, but she's a Princess. I suppose she can just do what she likes. In any case, I'm Mayor Mare, the...well, mayor of this fine town. We're usually much nicer than this, I swear.” she finished with a halfhearted smile. “And you are?”
“Ah, Sunset Shimmer.” She responded, not really interested in giving out more (and also wondering if Mayor was actually part of the elected official's name, and if so what happened if she lost an election). “I'm a colleague of Twilight's...on that note, is there a roof access upstairs?”
“Well, yes, but--”
“I'm going, then. I'll come by and register later after this weather passes, Mayor. Excuse me.” With that, Sunset brushed past the worried earth pony, going up the nearest set of stairs and hunting for the door to the rooftop.
A quick search found the portal; according to the informative plaque next to it, there was a balcony just beyond, helpful for addressing the town at large on demand (or just getting a little air). It was had been bolted shut, presumably to keep the winds from yanking it open. A part of Sunset bristled at the idea that Twilight had been locked outside, but it vanished as she remembered that nothing as simple as a door would stop any unicorn who was even partially proficient with kinetic cantrips, let alone one like Twilight Sparkle.
She released the bolt, and tentatively pushed open the door. To her surprise, the balcony was quite dry and the howling of the gale was very muted. It was as though there was a eye to the storm, and in the center sat her lavender alicorn host.
“Twilight! You're okay...okay. Good.” Sunset sighed in relief. “Where's Rainbow?”
The alicorn said nothing, her gaze focused on the clouds above her, apparently maintaining a barrier of silence around the balcony. That would've been the violet light she'd seen from the ground, Sunset reasoned.
“A stallion named Thunderlane crashed through the window at the castle, Twilight. He said this storm was unnatural, like Dash did. Have you figured anything out?”
An uneasy seed formed in Sunset's stomach as her friend's silence continued. “Twilight...?” She waved a hoof in front of the mare's face, achieving nothing. Pursing her lips, she opted to do the next best thing, and pinched the magician's ear with a quick cantrip.
“OW! Who-wha—oh! What're you doing here, Sunset?” Twilight blinked, seemingly waking up from a trance, her wings shifting as though they needed stretched. “Ugh, was I zoning out again? Sorry, I was really concentrating on this magic to try and get a feel for its structure, and I guess I lost track of the world. Sunset, you really ought to look at this! This is a type of magic I've never seen before, entirely different structure and everything, and I really mphmph mmph...” A hoof on her mouth stemmed the tide of gushing Sunset already saw coming. Twilight glared at her and swatted her hoof away, finishing, “Pteh! Fine, fine. Long story short, it's a strange magic that powers this storm.”
Sunset frowned. “Strange, new magic, huh? Well, I did say I wanted to study magic in Equestria, so this seems like a good first project. Plus, we gotta break this storm...the town's gonna flood at this rate. Also, how are you maintaining this sphere? It's not an anti-magic zone, that'd be too high level for even you to hold while not thinking about it.”
“Oh, yeah. I'm pretty good but an eighth level concentration spell is too much for me to just have on without paying attention. Nah, this is just a basic shield. They may be my brother's specialty, but I'm no slouch at them!” Twilight said with a small measure of pride.
“Yeah? Not bad...anyway, if this is some new magic, let me help you look at it. Two heads are better than one, as they say.”
Twilight beamed, motioning for Sunset to take a seat next to her. The unicorn complied, with a quick query, “Also, what happened to Dash? She's not hurt, is she?”
Shaking her head, the alicorn responded, “No, she said she was going to Cloudsdale to get some professionals to help shut this down. She did say it could be awhile, though...” Her eyes fogged with concern. “...I hope she made it okay. But it is Dash; not a storm in known history she couldn't fly in.”
Sunset detected a note of melancholy in her voice and nodded. “She'll be fine. In the meantime, let's have a look at this squall.”
Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns was a prestigious one, and it was widely regarded in Equestria as the best place for any aspiring magician to learn how to become a caster par excellence in whatever field of study they chose to pursue. More than just magic, it served to teach history, mathematics, sciences, and even classical literature. Despite that, the mastery of the arcane was the central focus to almost all students who would attend.
All of ponykind has innate magic, though none are so able to express and manipulate it outwardly as the unicorn. In exchange for lacking the useful passive attributes of pegasi or earth ponies, or either of their instinctive understandings of land and sky phenomena, they are able to project and manipulate the world around them using their own magic. For the average unicorn, simple telekinesis and other odds and ends spells that relate to their special talents are generally enough to get along with.
For students of the School for Gifted Unicorns, these are only the beginning. By analyzing magic in a structured way, they can learn magic beyond just what their cutie mark gives them a predisposition for. Almost any spell from almost any school can be broken down into its component parts, studied, and then put back together to allow a student to understand and truly know how the magic involved flows.
In this way, all magic can be categorized and worked with and against in a manner not unlike the scientific method, with very few exceptions. To a properly trained magician, even the strangest phenomena had an underlying order and flow to them that could be observed, dissected, and understood. The webs and threads of mana were woven in a pattern that could be plucked, unraveled, and cut if necessary to prematurely cancel or strengthen any spell.
This storm was not that magic at all.
Sunset was taken aback, sitting on her rump with her horn and eyes aglow beside a similarly confused Twilight.
There was no weave. There was no network of minor effects coalescing to a larger one, no lattice to observe. There was nothing to break down, nothing to dissect. In the place of these was this looming, palpable...feeling of anger. Like the spell itself was emotionally charged and apparently deeply upset. Instead of a weave, they were looking at a single thread of incalculable size and power, with what appeared to be a will of its own and an inclination to throw tantrums.
“Twilight...This is something wrong.” Sunset murmured, furrowing her brow. “It's been awhile, but I know that this isn't a magic that can exist. This is alicorn grade spellwork, and I'm pretty sure the Princess would know if she or her sister had cast something like this.”
“Yeah...that's what I thought too, but it's definitely here, scientifically possible or not. So, what do you think we should do?” Twilight mumbled back, her tone one of detached curiosity.
“I'm...I'm not sure. There's nothing to start pulling apart.” Sunset paused. “I hate to just poke at it, but I don't know what else there is TO do. And this isn't anything like you've seen before, Miss Hero?”
Twilight stuck her tongue out before responding, “Nope. We can't sit here doing nothing. We'll just have to start probing it for weaknesses; maybe it's just disguised as one large effect.”
“Maybe. Let's do it.”
The pair reached out with their senses, their horns glowing in tandem with violet and cyan light as they began a 'hooves-on' analysis.
This turned out to be a mistake.
The magic recoiled in what seemed like surprise, drawing away from their united probe. And then, it surged back, the quiet whisper of anger morphing into an overwhelming feeling of unhinged rage and indignation. Their senses were suffocated, smothered in the tidal wave of fury.
Sunset felt her body seize up; some sort of trap woven into the spell? No, she would've found it... A terrible, unbidden thought came to her mind. Had the spell itself seized her? Could it have actually--
A lance of white hot pain flared in her skull. She gasped, feeling something warm running down her forehead. Twilight whimpered beside her, shivering.
It was a feedback phenomenon! When a spell was improperly structured or cast, the flow of magic could turn back on itself and the caster. With a spell of appropriate power, the feedback could kill, but their probes had been only minor things, enough for a headache. Unless...
Unless the storm was pouring magic back into them.
Terror bloomed in Sunset's mind as she realized: the probes. They'd left the door open, so to speak, and now they couldn't shut them as the water rushed in. Another pulse of agony wracked her and she fell to the balcony, feeling water on her coat. Twilight's shield must've fallen, she mused distantly. She felt rather than heard her friend's shriek of torment as the alicorn toppled over, flopping on top of Sunset and twitching erratically as though she'd been struck by lightning.
The storm swelled again, making her see spots against the back of her eyelids. This really might be it; done in by something as silly as a magic they'd never seen before.
How...anticlimactic. Somehow she'd expected more.
Pain. She screwed her eyes shut. Her heart pumped in her ears, erratic and unsteady. Darkness crept into the edges of her mind, sticky and insistent. Maybe she'd get to meet her friends again in the afterlife, she wondered. She could feel herself slipping away...who would get word to her friends? Maybe she should've just stayed on the other side. This might not have happened.
A note of indignation flared in a corner of her soul. This wasn't fair. Barely two days in, and she hadn't even had a chance to do anything, to learn anything, to make amends with anypony. Why was this happening now?
It was unnacceptable.
Unacceptable. She had standards to meet. She had people and ponies that were looking to her to come home.
UNACCEPTABLE.
She heard a strange sound, like a whip cracking. Twilight pushed herself off of Sunset, rising unsteadily to her hooves and pulsing with power. She forced her eyes to open and looked above her at the alicorn...and then she understood what it meant to BE an alicorn.
Twilight's eyes blazed with violet fire. Her cutie mark glowed and grew, surging over her body and tracing exotic stellar patterns even as her mane lengthened, waving in a wind neither of them could see. An additional cream-colored stripe filled out her tail and mane, her wings expanded, the tips of her feathers sparkling with stars.
Sunset was shocked, her agony momentarily forgotten in the wonderful and terrible light of this glowing lavender goddess, who even now lit her horn in an outpouring of magic that put her previous efforts to shame, a purple lance of energy puncturing the clouds and fighting the storm's unthinking fury.
The blistering energy of the storm responded, lightning crashing down around them as it resurged, violence apparently its only answer (and quite adequate for it). Twilight gritted her teeth, giving everything she had. If they couldn't undo this spell the proper way, she would smother it with raw power if she had to. But did she have enough in her to do that?
Sunset wasn't sure. The squall seemed to erupt with a level of malice, if that was possible of a magical phenomenon, that heretofore hadn't been present. Winds tore at the roof, shingles lifted away. Thatched roofs were ripped from their houses, water and rain flowing sideways. She needed more, Sunset realized. Twilight needed more. With dawning comprehension, her face hardened.
She pushed the pain from her mind. Whatever else, she was, she was still a former student of the Princess of the Sun, prodigy in the magical arts. A villainess and heroine both, to some. Sunset Shimmer was no street performer, no mere jester. A brilliant shining alicorn she might not be, but she could still help. She stood on her own hooves, shaky but determined. She concentrated on Twilight's form, and attempted to graft her own power to it, to support her friend.
Sunset was overwhelmed with the...the warmth of Twilight's magic. It was calculated and efficient, almost perfectly controlled. It spoke of long hours of drills and exercises, a near total dedication to mastering the power within her, combined with a heart that had decided to embrace almost everypony. But it was...lesser than it seemed. For all the raw power it had, it was incomplete, missing pieces...and that was why she wasn't able to dispel the storm alone.
Sunset reached deep into herself, trying to find the core of who she was. That singular piece of her that had always dazzled her instructors, earned Celestia's nod and smile of approval, wowed her peers and lessers. She found it, buried far and beneath layers of recrimination and doubt. It was withered and malnourished, almost forgotten and atrophied for her long stay in a world where it had no place. But it remembered her, too, and it was with a muted joy that she tapped it. She coaxed it to the surface, willing it to give, if only for one more effort.
And then Sunset remembered what it was to be Sunset Shimmer.
A power she'd not felt for years flooded her from hoof to horn and her eyes glowed, a smile on her tired face as she funneled the font of herself into Twilight's spell, the magic's color changing from a burning magenta to a soft, cloudlike periwinkle. The storm recoiled at its touch, suddenly finding opposition it hadn't anticipated (could it anticipate?).
Arcane might poured from the pair, clashing against lightning and wind, sound and fury. They were so close; Sunset could feel it. They were so close. Just a little more. She dug as deep as she could, gave all she had; she could again feel consciousness starting to slip away from the exertion.
They were so close.
They were...not going to win. Twilight was just as exhausted as Sunset; with her strange power incomplete and Sunset only helping shore it up rather than make it whole, they just didn't have enough.
The storm seemed to sense this and pressed down on them, bringing them to their knees. Sunset felt resignation and tears of frustration well up. She'd given it her all; that was all she had. Indignation alone didn't carry the day. She closed her eyes...
And with a terrible, concussive blast, the clouds cleared and blinding light rained down on the town. Searing rays illuminated sagging, leaking roofs and window covers ripped from their hinges, loose pieces of wood, paper, and plant matter floating in a lazy current through town. An oppressive, wet heat covered the soaking mares, who had already lost their luminescence and magical drive, collapsing to the balcony. Above them, a chromatic blur raced through the town, leading a small formation of pegasi to pick off straggler clouds.
A great weight landed forcefully on the balcony, the structure momentarily buckling under the impact. Alicorn and unicorn looked up.
Above them stood the (literally) radiant form of the Diarch of the Dawn, Unconquered Sun and Lightbringer of Equestria. Above them, staring at them with an expression that betrayed little except intense interest, was Princess Celestia.