//------------------------------// // Chapter 8 // Story: Naborale // by CTVulpin //------------------------------// I’strukun After materializing in the upper room of the central tower, Nyx pulled the new symbol sketch out of Twilight’s bag and ran it over to the light table. Twilight swallowed the rebuke that sprang to her lips, amused and understanding of the filly’s impatience. By the time Twilight reached the light table herself, Nyx had managed to position the sketch properly to activate the table. As before the gear-shaped ring flipped down from the underside of the table onto the raised rods on the floor, creating an impression of the Motivaria symbol, and again the gear turned a little and another unseen lock fell open. A short walkway extended out from the edge of the pit toward the gilded cage holding the linking book to Naboarale. Also as before, the lights in the room went down and the three telescope-projectors cast an image of Margent onto the ceiling. “This isn’t what you expected to find when you came back, was it, Star-swirlies?” Margent asked. “How does it feel, to have your life’s work broken and changed? Oh, I wish I could have broken your lesson worlds completely, the way you destroyed my home! But I can’t; not if I’m to show you what you Star-swirlies did to me. I want you to see Naborale as you left it: broken and dead with nothing but gho… gh… No! Margent, there’s nothing left. Nothing!” The bat-pony’s face twisted in torment as the image faded and lights rose back to the normal level. “Was… was she about to say ‘ghosts’?” Nyx asked. “Probably,” Twilight said calmly. “She might think she hears the voices of her family and friends. I’ve heard that hallucinations like that sometime happen to ponies who suffer from survivor’s guilt. Now come on, let’s see about getting into that last tower.” She walked over to the exit, then paused and closed her eyes in thought. “It’ll be faster if we go out through the bottom of this tower, but we’ll need to climb some ladders to get up to the door.” Nyx came over and hit the button for the calling the elevator with her magic. “I can handle ladders,” she said. After the two ponies rode the elevator down and stepped out into Margent’s workshop, Nyx asked, “What if there really are ghosts in Naborale?” “Don’t worry, little Nyx,” Twilight said, patting the filly on the head, “ghosts aren’t real.” Nyx ducked away from Twilight’s hoof with an annoyed huff. “I’m not worried, I’m curious!” she snapped. “Ghosts might not exist in Equestria, but Naborale is an entirely different world with its own rules. Aitran doesn’t have a sun or a day-night cycle, for example.” Twilight shuddered. “Oh, I’m well aware of that,” she said. “I still don’t understand why Star Swirl would make a world with no sun.” Nyx smirked. “I’ve read enough of Father’s Linking Books to notice that, as detailed as he tries to be, he never manages to cover everything. He mostly focuses on the geography, climate, magic fields, how time moves, and stuff like that; not so much on who or what lives there or how the world is lit. The magic kinda… fills in the gaps however it wants I guess.” “I understand where you’re coming from,” Twilight said, “but I seriously doubt that ‘filling in the gaps’ extends to things like whether or not ghosts exist.” “Hm,” Nyx said, heading toward the exit, “we’ll see who’s right once we reach Naborale. Come on.” Twilight followed her out through the stained-glass greenhouse and to the base of the cliffs near the final tusk tower. Nyx began climbing the first of two ladders built into the cliff with gusto, but about halfway up she lost steam and stopped to rest. Twilight climbed up after her, then wrapped the both of them in a teleportation spell up to the shelf between the first and second ladder. “Thank you,” Nyx said. She looked up at the door set into the side of the tusk and too far from the top of the cliff to reach. “How are we supposed to get in there?” she wondered. “That plant-like growth might be the solution,” Twilight said, pointing to a green and red mass stuck to the rock face between the tusk and the clifftop. “On the other hoof, though…” she teleported herself and Nyx to the top of the cliff, and then reached out and opened the door with her telekinesis. “If you don’t mind, let’s save our puzzle solving for the actual lesson world.” “Works for me,” Nyx said with a smirk. Twilight nodded, focused on the room she could see through the door, and teleported herself and Nyx inside. The pair consulted Twilight’s notes, arranged the beads on the winch mechanism, and brought the book down with practiced speed. The book leading to the third and final lesson age bore a bird-shaped symbol and the title Adene. Adene I am still amazed at how perfectly this world turned out. It is such a masterpiece of wild nature that it sometimes seems a shame to utilize it as a Lesson World. What appears from the outside to be just the tall, hollow, and wind-smoothed corpse of a tree stranded in an endless sea is in fact the shelter of a complete ecosystem of plants and animals that cooperate to not only move water and nutrients from the sea up to the crown but also to facilitate a visitor’s travel throughout the system. Clover would be quite impressed that my Writing has accomplished this. Perhaps the most amazing part of this world is the large birds that nest at the top of the tree. I was initially concerned that traveling through the tree would create irreversible changes to the environment which would render some sections impassible. On my second trip through the world, however, I found that everything had been restored to their original positions and spied the bird that currently resided in the nest replacing a log I had dislodged previously. Further study has convinced me that the birds are intelligent, although unable to communicate with a pony, and seem to actually enjoy my presence despite the messes I make of their nesting area. I have seen at least three generations of nesting mothers come to the tree so far, and each one is more amiable than the last. I shall try to incorporate their behavior into the puzzles of Adene. Twilight and Nyx materialized on a natural shelf of wood near the top of the great tree, next to a strange large flower. A tangle of vines growing down from an outcrop of wood formed a kind of natural cage hanging over the deep abyss of the tree’s hollow interior. The peeping of baby birds and the faint roar of distant surf were the only sounds present. A quick examination of the large flower revealed that it had a transparent core that served as a natural telescope, and the flower could be moved around a little and would keep its last position. Looking through the telescope lens, the ponies saw an I’strukun book inside the vine cage. “What do you think, Nyx?” Twilight asked, “is that the early-exit book, or our destination?” “I don’t see any obvious way to get there yet,” Nyx replied, “but I expect the final book to be at the bottom, after we’ve traveled through the whole tree.” She turned away and walked down the shelf, which had seemingly naturally formed steps leading down a little ways, until it stopped next to a tall plant with a single, thick, spined leaf corkscrewing up the stem. The leaf was broad enough to stand on and the top end was next to another shelf of wood, so Nyx stepped onto the leaf with the intent to climb. She let out a surprised yelp as the plant reacted to her weight by undulating the leaf in a way that propelled her all the way up to the top and deposited her gently on the shelf. When Twilight joined her a moment later, Nyx laughed and said, “That was fun!” The shelf sloped up to a dead-end with another telescope flower. As Twilight and Nyx walked up to the flower, they heard a short, ear-piercing cry. They looked toward the sound and saw a large, brightly-colored bird with a fan tail and a long beak flying into the tree from outside and land in a nest built on top of the branch that the vine cage grew from. Twilight and Nyx raced up to the telescope flower and looked through it for a closer look at the nest. “Aw, it has a baby!” Nyx exclaimed. The bird was tearing pieces off some sort of purple fruit and feeding them to the chick, stopping occasionally to glance toward the ponies and emit its cry at them. “That’s cute,” Twilight said sincerely, “but where do we go from here?” “Good question,” Nyx said, tearing herself away from the flower. She trotted back down the shelf, looked through a wide hole in the wall, and then waved Twilight over. “There’s a branch we can walk on out here.” Twilight followed her through the gap. The wide, mostly flat branch sloped up toward the very top of the tree, but just around the corner of the gap the ponies discovered another corkscrew plant growing up from far below. This plant’s leaves were curled up tight against the stem and a vine coiled down from the top into the dish-like leaf of a different kind of plant. Hanging from the wood above the dish was a translucent vegetable globe that jiggled slightly when Nyx poked it. “This has a lot of water or something in it,” the filly said. “If we break it open, it’ll fill the dish and this plant can get a drink.” “Mmhmm,” Twilight said. She started to examine the globe closer, but a loud cry from the nest distracted her for a moment. The large bird, evidently done feeding its chick, took flight and circled high above the ponies for a moment before diving down out of sight. Twilight turned her attention back to the water globe, but probing it with magic revealed the casing was extremely tough and there was no obvious way to make it release its contents. “Let’s keep climbing up,” she decided. “Maybe we’ll find another plant or something that makes up a puzzle with this thing.” Nyx nodded and led the way. The branch ended between two flat areas. On the left, sitting at the edge of the shelf facing into the tree, was a large yellow flower with a thick stem and a tendril coming out of the center on the back of the bloom. On the right was a plant made of several long green branches with a single broad palm-like leaf on the end of each, all spread wide to catch as much sunlight as possible. Twilight went over to the flower and touched the tendril, which curled in as the flower’s back opened to reveal a yellow telescopic core. The lower proved just as easy to move around as the other telescope flower, and it only took Twilight a moment to sight the closed-up corkscrew and the water globe. Leaving the flower focused on the globe, Twilight turned away to inform Nyx of her theory just as the filly pressed down on a button-like nodule at the base of the fan-palm. The plant’s branches all swung to full upright positions and the leaves curled, uncovering a shaft of sunlight that hit Twilight square in the eyes. “Hey,” Nyx exclaimed as Twilight tried to blink the spots out of her eyes, “I found the quitter’s book!” Twilight squinted in the direction Nyx was pointing and saw that, indeed, there was an I’strukun book sitting on a curing branch that had been hidden behind one of the fan-palm’s leaves. “Great,” Twilight said, “now, would you mind helping me figure out what this plant over here is supposed to do?” Nyx trotted over and, with Twilight’s help, looked through the yellow telescope lens. She saw that the water globe had shrunk down and its contents now sat in the dish, and that the corkscrew plant’s leaves were spread out. “Looks like it already did what it’s supposed to do,” Nyx declared. Twilight looked confused and peeked through the flower. “I think this flower is focusing the sun onto the globe, and that made it heat up until the water broke out,” Nyx explained. “Ah, that does make sense,” Twilight agreed. “Good work, Nyx.” The ponies worked their back to the corkscrew plant and Twilight stepped onto it first. The plant was much taller than the first one had been, and it took almost a minute for both Twilight and Nyx to ride it down to the bottom. The branch the plant deposited them onto wove through narrow gaps in the tree’s internal wall, and small patches off barely glowing lichen started appearing on the wood as the ponies walked down the branch’s gentle slope. After two turns, they came upon another large dish-leaf full of water. A flat fish-like creature with short tentacles around its mouth was swimming placidly in the dish, but as Twilight and Nyx watched it bumped into a plant growing into the dish and the plant twitched with electrical shock until the fish swam away. “Huh,” Nyx said, tilting her head slightly, “that seems oddly familiar.” “How so?” Twilight asked. Nyx shook her head. “I can’t quite remember… Let’s keep moving. Maybe it’ll come back to me.” Twilight nodded and they continued down the path. After passing through another gap in the wall, they found a water-globe plant on their right, but the globe was shriveled and empty. On their left, lying on the ground, was a stack of journal pages. “Oh joy,” Nyx said flatly as Twilight levitated the pages up and scanned them quickly for Margent’s number symbols, “more insane ramblings from the pyshco-pony.” “Well,” Twilight said, getting the pages in order and fitting them into what she thought was their proper place in the journal, “this set seems to start out coherently enough.” I have ruined the poem he placed in the columns. I could no longer stand to see Naborale's artistry in his other worlds within the tusks. I think I can do something with sap to cover the second one, but I'm not sure what to do about the island. I don't know how to alter the power. Perhaps, if I bring some of the unusual floating stone from Motivaria? Something about the rock in that world causes it to attract and repel other stone quite forcefully. Maybe, if I introduce some of it to the soil on the island, it will interfere just enough to damage the last poem. I will have to experiment. This is taking me too long! Every minute that passes brings me closer to the time when the star swirlies will arrive. I don’t know when exactly it will be, and I am just a single, little pony. Too often I find myself wishing for the wonderful strength of Staid. Then I remembered my Staid is dead. I left him to die when I went after the devils. I told him to go to the reef, to take our two fillies there and hide. I took the necklace he gave me to remember him by and I told him Oh Staid! I told you it would all be okay! For years, I prayed my words were not a lie. That you had made it to reef. That you were tending the ailing Lattice roots. By the weaving, Staid, how I prayed! Until I found his machine. I saw Naborale through his shield. And even though the barrier kept me locked inside, I knew. I knew that Lattice Tree had died. Naborale can't survive without the Tree. No one can be alive outside his shield. And yet I hear voices, calling my name. Accusing me. My attempts to produce a carnivorous hybrid have had limited success. I thought I was making greater progress, but the life that grows in the forest isn't like the plants on Naborale. It's much more tenacious. Less susceptible to grafts. Perhaps, if I try mixing in species from the swamp? “I’ll give her this much at least,” Nyx said after a moment, “she’s a smart one. But what poems is she referring to?” “Probably the symbols we’ve been collecting,” Twilight said. “We found the symbol in Wahteg after levitating an island, and the one in Motivaria was painted onto those floating columns. I guess that before Margent altered them the symbols were poems written in Naborale’s script.” “Ok, that makes sense,” Nyx said. “Any ideas what the ‘carnivorous hybrid’ could be?” Twilight shook her head. “Not so much as a clue,” she said, “so I’m just hoping that whatever it is, she couldn’t make it.” She put the journal away and turned her attention to the shriveled water globe. “Now, do we do something with this?” she wondered, poking at it. Her hoof struck a nodule on the end of the globe, and the plant reacted: with rhythmic pulses the globe began to expand and fill with water. Before either of the ponies could wonder where the liquid was coming from, a final pulse pulled the electric fish from farther back into the globe. The fish swam a quick circle, but then settled down to a lazy drift within the globe’s confines. “I hope there’s a reason for this later,” Twilight said. “Knowing Father, there is,” Nyx replied, nonchalant. “We’ll just need to explore farther to find it.” Pressing on down the path and around a corner, the ponies came upon a log spanning a gap that appeared to stretch almost to the base of the tree. A wide variety of new plants were rooted into the tree walls, including a couple that seemed to just be one, long and thick curled-up leaf. The green and red fungus the ponies had seen outside Adene’s tower in I’strukun grew down one of the walls and had infiltrated the log bridge, but the structure still proved sturdy enough to support a pony’s weight when Twilight tested it. As Twilight and Nyx walked across the bridge, a loud crashing sound echoed from below, accompanied by the distressed cry of the large bird. The ponies exchanged a worried look and started moving a little faster. The path looped to the right but didn’t descend, and came to a sudden end at the base of one of the curled leaves. Hanging from the ceiling was a flower with a spiraling tendril hanging down from inside the closed bloom. Twilight gave the tendril a tug, causing it to retract and the flower’s petals to open and reveal a brightly glowing core. In response to the increased light, the large leaf uncurled to allow the ponies to walk out over the abyss facing the log bridge. Off to the right they saw a ledge with the first artificial objects they’d encountered so far: a lamp and a winch attached to a rope from which hung a small trapping cage made of sticks and woven fibers. From a branch above the end of the uncurled leaf was a blue plant dangling a blue vine with a natural cross bar at the end. “Are we supposed to swing across on this?” Nyx asked, tugging the vine with her magic. The vine stretched down to a more convenient height for swinging from. “I’m thinking that’s a yes.” Twilight eyeballed the gap between her and the far end of the abyss. “Looks like that log would be in our way off swinging all the way across,” she said, “but if we take it out, then there won’t be any way for others to progress, or for us to get back to the I’strukun book.” “Why would we need to go back?” Nyx asked. “The better question is how do we get rid of the log?” Twilight started to reply, but Nyx cut her off. “No, better yet, you can just teleport us to where we’re supposed to swing to, right?” “So long as I can get a good view,” Twilight said, “but… Never mind, I don’t have a good reason not to. We’re not making a habit of this though, ok?” “Deal,” Nyx said. The ponies walked back around the bridge, and then Twilight teleported them across to the ledge opposite the swinging vine. One of the curled leaves grew from the ledge, with another of the lamp-flowers dangling near it. When Twilight opened the flower, the leaf uncurled to near the upper end of the log bridge. “And that’s how we’d go back up if we needed to,” Twilight declared in a flat tone. “But still no clue to how this ‘puzzle’ could be reset.” She frowned in thought until Nyx gave her a poke, and the pair moved on. The path from the ledge snaked down in a gentle slope that skirted the exterior of the tree. After passing a few holes that permitted sunlight in and fairly normal-looking ferns and flowers to grow from the gaps between the floor and walls, Twilight and Nyx heard a frantic shuffling sound. Trotting a little faster, they came upon a pitcher plant big enough to engulf them both. The path let them approach near the plant’s mouth, which was rimmed with inward-facing thorns and capped with a large leaf. Something inside the plant stirred, and the ponies gasped when the large bird’s head popped up into view. The bird eyed the pair for a moment, let out a plaintive sound, and slipped back down into the plant’s gut. “Oh no!” Nyx exclaimed. “We’ve got to get it out of there!” “Right,” Twilight said. She wrapped the plant’s cap leaf in her magic and tried to pry it up, to no avail. Twilight then tried pounding the plant with spells of irritation and transformation, but the magic just washed over the plant ineffectually. “Ugh,” Twilight said, stomping a hoof, “If I had my books with me I could probably find a spell that works, but…” “Well, there’s got to be something we can do!” Nyx exclaimed. As soon as she said the words, she remembered something from I’strukun. “Electricity,” she said. “Margent had a small plant like this in her I’strukun workshop. It opened up when I applied an electric current to its roots.” “Ok,” Twilight said, “but I don’t have any electricity spells memorized.” “No need,” Nyx said. “We’ve got that weird fish in the water-globe. If that plant reaches down to this one’s roots and we can get the fish out, then… Zap! The bird’s free.” “Hm,” Twilight said. “The sounds like a long shot on the surface, but given how these worlds tend to be laid out you may have found the answer. Let’s go.” The pathway led briefly outside as it dropped and looped around. Right after re-entering the tree’s interior, Twilight and Nyx saw a shriveled water-globe in the middle of an unusually broad and flat section of floor, partially walled on the far side by thick, thorny vines. They walked around toward the front of the water-globe, and came upon a picture painted onto the wall. In the center of the painting, Cirrus and Archeon stood beside a stack of books and were holding one aloft as they spoke to the bat-winged ponies around them. At the far left, separate from the group and partially in shadow, Margent watched the scene with great sadness. “The beginning of Cirrus and Archeon’s attack on Naborale,” Twilight said. “You think Margent was actually that worried at the start?” Nyx asked, pointing at the aggrieved expression Margent had painted for herself. Twilight shook her head. “She painted this in retrospect, and I have doubts about the accuracy of her memory given the trauma and fugue state she went through. There’s no way to really tell how she first reacted to Cirrus and Archeon.” A shuffling sound from the pitched plant somewhere above reminded Twilight and Nyx of their current goal, and the young filly pressed the nodule on the water-globe. The globe expanded as it pulled in water, and with one last pulse the electric flatfish emerged into the globe’s interior. “All right,” Nyx said, “now where?” Two paths led from the mural: one to the right that seemed to stay on more or less the same level as the mural, and a staircase-like branch that led down on the left. Twilight tried to follow the paths with her eyes as best she could, and said, “Going down might just take us deeper into the tree.” “Well, obviously,” Nyx said, although her gaze was drifting upward to follow the vines hanging down from above. “Hey, I think these are actually roots for the pitcher plant! I’ll go down and see where they end; you can take the right path if you want.” “Ok,” Twilight said, “but don’t go too far ahead.” Nyx gave her a grumpy look and headed down the stairs. After the stairstep section ended, the branch continued to slope downward slightly as it cured to the right, encompassing some large plants with glowing pods and a large basin-like leaf which the pitcher plant’s roots trailed into. Above the left side of the dish, just out of Nyx’s reach, hung another empty water-globe. Since she couldn’t reach it with her hoof, Nyx focused her magic on the globe and tried to press the nodule. It took her a minute and some posture shifting before she could concentrate enough force onto the nodule, but it did eventually retract and the globe started drawing in water and the electric fish. A sudden flash of sunlight hit the globe once it was full. Nyx turned around to investigate and saw Twilight standing on a different branch next to a lily-shaped flower with a reflective interior. The flower was catching light cast onto it from another such flower which hung in a pool of sunlight to Twilight’s left. Twilight adjusted the flower she was standing next to for a bit, frowning, and then noticed Nyx. “Looks like these don’t focus the light enough to heat up the water,” she shouted to the filly. “There’s gotta be something,” Nyx replied. She looked around, and spotted a familiar plant partially hidden by a branch above and to her left as she faced Twilight. “Look,” she shouted, pointing. “Isn’t that the same kind of flower we used to pop a water globe at the top of the tree?” Twilight looked, and then nodded. “Good eye, Nyx,” she said. “I can’t get there from here, but I think I see a way you could. There’s one of those bridge leaves behind the roots, and it looks like it will stretch to a hollow log you can climb up to the flower. One second.” She went behind the reflective lily and aimed it a different direction. “Great, that worked,” she announced. “The leaf’s uncurled. Head on up; I’ll try to bounce the sunlight up to you.” Nyx nodded. The branch continued to loop around the basin leaf, sloping gradually downward and passing under the branch Twilight had used to get to her position. When Nyx came to the back side of the basin, she spotted an image viewer like the ones in Motivaria and Wahteg tucked up against the side of the basin. “Huh,” Nyx said, walking up to the viewer, “I need to ask Father how these things work. How would it be getting power in this world?” She pressed the button below the screen, and Margent’s face appeared. The pink pony was looking down. “This morning, I woke up, and I couldn’t picture Staid’s face,” she said in a tone of faint horror. “The crease on his face that pulls his whole mouth down when he smiles, the handsome cant of his eyes. I tried so hard to picture him, to put him down on paper as if that would bring him back. I couldn’t do it.” Her gaze came up, looking straight at whatever device had captured the moment. “Star Swirl, I’m not you.” The image faded. “And what they hay is supposed to mean?” Nyx snapped. “‘I’m not you.’” Knowing she wasn’t going to get an answer, Nyx huffed and stepped away from the viewer. As she walked to the end of the branch and started crossing the leaf bridge, however, she decided to vent her frustration anyway. “What, Margent, do you think we can just Write ponies back to life or something? Recreate what’s lost with a stroke of a pen?” She paused momentarily to size up the hollow half-log before her, which was covered inside by shelf fungi that proved strong enough to hold her weight and thus serve as steps as she climbed. “If Writing could manage… miracles like that so easily, Father wouldn’t have needed to spend all his time keeping Sohndar stable while Twilight and Rainbow took on the world itself. Father could restore everything Cirrus and Archeon took from him!” She exhaled loudly as she pulled herself up into another hollow log and crawled out onto the ledge where the magnifying flower was planted. The flower was already open and aimed at the water-globe, which was good because Nyx discovered that the flower refused to be moved about. She went to the edge and watched Twilight move the reflector lily in the patch of sunlight until the light hit another lily across the abyss from Nyx, which bounced the light to a point above Nyx’s head. Following the light’s path, Nyx saw a third lily on a ledge above and behind the magnifier. Reaching that ledge was a simple matter of walking up, and it was the work of mere seconds to aim the reflector down at the magnifier. A short moment later, the water-globe burst open, dumping its water and the electric flatfish into the leaf dish. The fish evidently went straight for the pitcher plant’s roots, because Nyx saw electricity arc up the thorny vines and the pitcher’s lid spasmed upright. The large bird hauled itself out of the plant’s gut, looking remarkably unharmed, then spread its wings and took flight. It circled once at Nyx’s level, let out a cry, and dived deeper into the tree. “Yes!” Twilight cheered. Nyx ran down to the lower ledge and looked down to see Twilight beaming up at her. “Great teamwork, Nyx,” Twilight said. “Thanks,” Nyx replied. “Of course,” Twilight said, sobering, “that leaves the question of where do we go from here? It looks like I’m in a dead-end, so…” She shrugged. “Up here’s a dead-end too,” Nyx said, “but maybe…” She started to go back the way she came, and when she crawled back into the hollow log, she saw the answer. Returning to the ledge, she reported, “the log I climbed branches near the top. The other way has to lead somewhere.” “All right,” Twilight said. “I’ll be there in a minute.” Rather than just wait around, Nyx decided to scout ahead a little. She initially considered trying to jump the gap between her side of the log and the other, but on a second look at the distance and the size of the hole she was aiming for, she decided to play it safe and scoot down onto the fungus ladder and climb up into the other branch from there. The hollow branch followed a consistently left-curving path, and long cracks on the top provided illumination. When Nyx came to the point where she could no longer see her entry point, she spotted a couple journal pages lying against the wall and picked them up. After a little over a quarter of a circle, the hollow branch came to an end on top of another, flat branch that sloped and slightly and terminated after only a few feet, right in front of a blue vine that split into an inverted T shape at the end. With nowhere else to go, Nyx sat and waited until Twilight emerged from the hollow branch, breathing heavily. “I think I got a splinter,” the lavender unicorn panted, dropping onto her haunches and inspecting the fetlock of her left front leg. “Nope,” she concluded after a minute, “just my imagination. Still stings, though.” “Here,” Nyx said, levitating the pages she’s found over to Twilight. “Maybe this will take your mind off it.” Twilight quirked an eyebrow at Nyx, but accepted the papers without comment. She noted the symbol in the corner of the first page and said, “This is a very early entry. Probably the second overall, if I understand Margent’s number system correctly.” The book sits on its flower-like platform, it's swirling panel reaching tentacles to grab me. I want to close my eyes, to shut out these false illusions before they suck me into the fog. I do not want those swirling limbs to touch me. Why? Why am I so afraid of this book? I want to remember. I must. I think— I think this stallion may have come to our village. But he was younger then. Wingless. A smaller beard. Wearing those same strange robes with bells on them. He carried a book with him then and he's always using it. Always writing down notes. His eyes are covered by thick glasses, but his face is warm and friendly. He tells me his name. He says it's Star Swirl. I remember now! His name is Star Swirl. Star Swirl says he's come to our village from a faraway place because he wanted to learn about the Tree. He says he'll only stay awhile. Doesn't want to interfere with our labors. He says he wants to help, if we will let him. Oh Staid. Why did we let him? Keep writing, Margent. Write everything down. This Star Swirl stayed with us for months. I taught him how to trim the delicate lattice roots. How to splice old and new growths together so the walls of our houses will grow strong. I tell him the traditions of the Weave. How by using the spores to support the growing branches, we keep the Lattice Tree alive. He wants to learn everything I know. He wants Naborale to survive. I take him to the rift, to where the sea flows through gaps in the world. Steam flows up from the waterfall. The puffer spores are ready to take flight. We stand in the shadows of dusk and watch spores begin to rise. He points to one of the spores. It's smaller than the rest. Small enough to fit the niche we'd woven into the branches that morning. Its skin is milky white. With just the faintest touch of pink. That one, Star Swirl said. That should support your new daughter's room perfectly, I think. I remember I nodded. Then I flew out to guide it gently with the wind from my wings. Star Swirl stood on the ground, holding his breath as my wings pushed the hollow spore in close. As soon as it was near he netted it and dragged it in. This is what I remember. This is why I said he could send me his students. Nyx smiled faintly. “That sounds exactly like Father,” she said. “He once told me that the reason he Wrote so many linking books was the simple joy of discovering and exploring the unique world each one linked to. Mom said Father used to spend months on end studying just one new world, and that if time actually moved on Aitran, Father couldn’t have seen a fraction of what he made.” “But then,” Twilight said, inserting the pages into the journal, “after all the work Star Swirl put into establishing good will with Margent and her tribe, Cirrus and Archeon go in and… do their thing. Confused and betrayed, Margent tries to get an explanation only to end up beaten and stranded on I’strukun and loses years of her life to despair and fugue. Now she’s haunted by her own memories…” Twilight spanned the journal shut and put it away. “I hate to admit it, but her actions do make sense.” “But she’s blaming Father for what Cirrus and Archeon did!” Nyx exclaimed. “Your father blames himself for not seeing what Cirrus and Archeon were turning into,” Twilight replied. “Honestly, I think he and Margent would benefit from meeting face to face again. We’ll just need to convince her not to try to kick his head off first.” Twilight looked at their surroundings or a bit. “So, where do we go from here?” “Probably this,” Nyx said, tugging the blue vine with her magic. The vine stretched down easily and sprang back when Nyx released it. Nyx frowned in thought for a moment, and then jumped and wrapped her legs tight around the vine. The vine stretched rapidly under her weight, taking the filly on a fast ride down into the deepest area of the tree. The vine came to a gentle stop just a foot above a branch pathway surrounded by dark-leafed plants and luminescent fungi. Nyx let go of the vine, watched it retract up to the branch Twilight still stood on, so far above that Nyx could barely make the lavender unicorn out, and then stepped back to give Twilight room to land. Twilight rode the vine down, giving Nyx a disapproving look as she hopped down onto the branch. “That was a dangerous risk you took there, Nyx,” Twilight said. Nyx rolled her eyes. “That was the second time we’d encountered that kind of plant,” she said, “and although we didn’t end up using it the first time, it was obviously meant to be used. If it wasn’t safe to use to get down here, Father would have Written something else in. Stop worrying about me and let’s keep going; I’ve got the feeling we’re almost at the end.” She brushed past Twilight and walked along the path. “It’s great that you trust your father’s abilities,” Twilight said, following the filly, “but you should still look before you leap. Star Swirl isn’t the only pony who’s put a hoof into adjusting these lesson worlds, you know.” “Well I haven’t seen any evidence that Margent intended to hurt anypony going through these worlds either,” Nyx shot back. “If she really means harm, she’s saving it for after we go into Naborale and seen the damage Cirrus and Archeon caused there.” It was dark this deep into the tree, but the plant life around the pathway was thick and plentiful. Rather than growing from nooks and crannies of the wood, the plants were rooted in dark, marshy soil. The branch stayed above the dirt as it meandered toward the center of the tree’s base and then suddenly formed a small hill. Standing on the peak of the little hill, Twilight and Nyx gazed upon a giant purple plant similar in appearance to a closed lotus blossom. The pathway forked on the other side of the peak; the right path went behind a wall and plants that obscured the view of lay at the path’s end, while the left passed through a rare patch of sunlight and snaked down to a blue root bulging out of the waterlogged dirt. In the sunlit patch hung a reflector lily. “Well, Nyx,” Twilight said, “which way first?” “Let’s go right,” Nyx said. “This has to be the last puzzle, so let’s try to look at everything before we take it on.” Twilight nodded in agreement and the pair turned right. After winding around the wall, the path approached and partially circled another giant flower. This one’s petals were open, revealing a large purple, wedge-shaped fruit that looked like it was the last of a bunch that had once been there. Two stalks rose from the base of the plant up into a patch of sunlight, and a cloud of insects swarmed around the ends of the stalks. Nyx looked over the scene, and scoffed. “This is too easy,” she declared. “Oh?” Twilight prompted. “If we replicate these conditions over at the first flower,” the filly said, “it’ll open up. I’ll be anything we find the symbol and the exit book inside. We’ll need sunlight, obviously using that reflective plant to get it in the right place, and get some of those bugs for good measure.” “And how do we do that?” Twilight asked. Nyx frowned and approached the plant for a closer look. Around the base of the flower grew lumpy beige pods, and when Nyx poked one with her magic it spewed out a cloud of foul-smelling spores. “Ugh,” Nyx said, backing away by reflex, “that… gives me an idea, actually.” She picked her way farther around the lotus and found a particularly large pod growing near where the twin stalks attached to the flower’s base. She poked the pod and jumped back as it spewed its spores into the air, right into the cloud of insects. The bugs flew away, but when the spores dispersed and the stench faded they returned to swarming around the stalks. “Dang it,” Nyx muttered. She started to walk back around the lotus to check the other side when the sunlight light suddenly faded and the flower’s stalks curled down as the bloom closed up. Nyx gave the flower a befuddled look until Twilight walked around from the far side. “Remember that palm plant at the top of the tree?” Twilight asked. “Yeah,” Nyx said. “There’s another one right next to the opening the sun was shining through,” Twilight said, “so-” “Yeah,” Nyx interrupted, “its leaves are blocking the light now, I get it. No light means the plant’s all closed up, which means the bugs have no reason to hang around right here if something drives them away.” She turned to go back to the stink pod. “Thanks, Twilight.” She returned to the pod and poked it, and this time the insect swarm stayed away. “Good,” Nyx said, “now let’s finish this.” Nyx and Twilight walked back to the fork in the path and took the left branch to the reflector lily. Twilight grabbed the flower in her magic and twisted it until a beam of sunlight fell on the first lotus flower’s curled-up stalks. The stalks reacted instantly, uncurling and opening up their ends, and a few seconds later the insect swarm flew in and congregated on the stalks. The flower’s petals opened to reveal a complete bunch of its purple fruits, arranged so the fruits formed a platform and the stems a wide-barred cage. As Twilight and Nyx made their way down the path to find a way to reach the lotus, they heard the distinct cry of the large bird. When the ponies reached the end of the path, the bird itself flew in from outside and landed on the fruit bunch. After settling itself, the bird looked at the ponies expectantly. “Yes, we get it,” Twilight said. “Give us a second.” She looked around a bit more, and then told Nyx, “I can teleport us right over there, if you want.” “Go for it,” Nyx said, scooting up close to the older unicorn. Twilight channeled her magic, and in a flash of light the pair moved from the path to the fruit platform. The bird took off, and for a second Twilight was worried she’d scared it off, but once it left the tree it wheeled around and came back, grabbing the fruit cage in its feet and hauling it and the ponies into the air. “Whoa!” Nyx exclaimed as they flew outside and out over the sea. The bird banked around and went into a gentle climb, bringing the great tree into view. “Wow,” Nyx said in awe. “Do you have this world’s lesson figured out yet, Nyx?” Twilight asked. Nyx rolled her eyes. “I had that down about halfway through,” she said. “It’s all about balanced ecosystems. This world is alive because all the plants support each other. Our bird friend here probably helps things when there aren’t ponies around to press buttons and reposition flowers.” The bird honked. The bird brought them in for a landing in its nest at the very top of the tree. It hopped off the fruit stems and pointed with its beak to a down-ward sloped branch on the ponies’ left. “Thank you for the lift,” Twilight said. She and Nyx then slid down the branch into a vine-enclosed shelf where some long, thin leaves had been twisted into the world’s symbol: a curling branch with a round fruit hanging inside the left curl. On a nearby bit of branch sat the book back to I’strukun.