Ice
Ice
Twilight Sparkle hit water. It engulfed her legs as she dropped out of her teleport. Near the surface at her knees, it was scalding hot, but it was numbingly cold at the base of her hooves. Steam lingered in the air around her. She stood on the edge of a crater melted into the peak of the iceberg with Solstice and Celestial Fury floating at her sides. The Pit Fiend stared at her from the center. Its sword, a pillar of fire, loomed above her.
“You are very brave, mortal,” it uttered. Then, its sword swept down toward her. A swath of flame trailed after the blade as it plunged.
Twilight lunged forward, leaping out of the water to gain a few more feet. Closer to the center, where the Pit Fiend stood, the water in the crater was deeper, nearly engulfing her torso. When she landed, she ducked her head beneath the surface and crouched down, making herself a small as she could against the icy bottom.
A plume of fire hit the water. The fluid around her hissed and bubbled, and she lost air in a drowned out scream when a swath of flesh from her shoulder to her hip burned in the heat. Her Stoneskin did nothing to protect her from the demon’s burning sword, and her cloak wafted in the boiling water behind her.
Then, the sword withdrew. Stillness. Only the swirl of water and the creaking of ice in her ears. She bit down on her tongue to keep her breath in as she tried to ignore the searing pain. A thud. She glimpsed the obsidian hoof of the monster through the ash-mired meltwater, refracted firelight playing across it in rippling lines.
“Still alive?” it said. “Interesting.”
Twilight shrunk tighter against the ice as the demons terrifying voice echoed in her mind, digging her hooves into what holds she could find in the ice as the natural buoyancy of her body threatened to tear her away from its relative safety. Her lungs screamed at her.
It’s close, she thought, eyeing the huge hoof. But is it close enough? She fought the urge to curl and hide until she slipped into unconsciousness from lack of air. Some part of her would rather drown than face the might of the Pit Fiend again. Another part was indignant – this creature thought it could challenge her. Doesn’t it know what I am?
A second thud. A second hoof, this time right next to her. “Close enough?” She looked up. Four red eyes pierced the water, staring down at her. “You’ve made me curious.”
Twilight’s heart thundered in her chest. She stared back at the red eyes, paralyzed. Now! she screamed at herself, but she couldn’t move. She closed her eyes, her mind filled with pounding fear, burning lungs, and searing pain. I shouldn’t be afraid, she thought. The idea pierced through the shroud of panic like a crystal knife. She opened her eyes and pushed off the bottom.
As her head broke the surface, she was already lashing out. She sliced a glowing red scar in the Pit Fiend’s armor with Solstice. “You should be!” she roared as she plunged Celestial Fury into the opening.
A golden field of light spread out from the wound, encasing the Pit Fiend. Twilight ripped Celestial Fury out and withdrew. Black blood dripped from her sword, hissing where it struck the water. As she gasped for breath, she squinted against the scorching steam. She had a moment before the demon broke free, and she took that moment to cast Fire Shield: Blue. A ring of icy flames erupted around her, beating back the heat.
The demon writhed and the golden light encasing it shattered like broken glass. “Godslayer!” it bellowed as it took a step back. Twilight smirked. She could feel the fear in the word as it echoed in her mind. The Pit Fiend raised its burning sword and pointed it at her. It swelled, bursting with flame.
Twilight focused on the blade, forming her own spell. A ray of fire shot at her from the tip of the Pit Fiend’s sword. She answered with Sunfire. A ring of flame exploded out from her hooves and pushed away the pooled meltwater, leaving behind only the ice on the bottom. The wave of fire met the ray and split it, washing it away to either side.
Before the water could crash back around her, Twilight advanced, She clambered across the rough-melted ice and struck at the same knee she’d hit before with a wide, powerful swing. This time, Celestial Fury cleaved clean through. The golden aura held the Pit Fiend again, but the piece of its leg below the knee fell, leaving behind a stump.
Twilight evenly sidestepped the falling limb as the water rushed back in. The demon’s floating sword plunged toward her. She ducked beneath the surface again and raised Celestial Fury to block. A tremor of feedback rippled down her horn when Celestial Fury met something solid in the heart of the blade.
Twilight clenched her jaw as she strained to push the sword back. Layers of overglow burst around her horn as she struggled against the Pit Fiend’s might. Slowly, Celestial Fury dipped lower. The water directly above her boiled; only the cooling effect of her Fireshield saved her from another burn. At the last instant, she twisted Celestial Fury to deflect the demon’s sword and rolled clear.
The firesword plunged into the water beside her and struck the ice. She stood, breaking the surface. Steam billowed around her. The Pit Fiend had broken free again. It balanced on three legs, directly above her. Black blood gushed into the water from the stump that was left of one of its forelegs, kicking up a cloud of steam that joined the one made by the burning sword.
Twilight launched a Fireball at the ice beneath the hindleg on the same side as the bleeding stump. It detonated beneath the water, and the wave nearly knocked her off her feet, but it made the Pit Fiend stumble as the ice beneath it’s hoof gave way. As the demon’s belly dropped toward her, she struck.
One, she led with a slash from Solstice, weakening its thick armor. Two, she plunged Celestial Fury into the spot, stabbing deep. Three, she drug Celestial Fury through its belly, splitting its armor until she opened a pony-length gash. A roar of pain thundered around her and through her mind. The gigantic sword fell into the water, its flame extinguished.
With the Pit Fiend held again, she waded backwards through the water. She paused at its hind leg, the one on the same side as the stump, and hacked away at it. She panted. This time, it took three strikes to cut all the way through. When it was done, she waded clear.
When the golden field shattered, the Pit Fiend fell toward her, collapsing onto its side with its back toward her. One of its twisted, bony wings impacted her. She ignored it; all it did was shatter a layer of her Stoneskin.
The demon twisted its head around unnaturally and looked at her with its four red eyes. For a brief moment, she wondered if it even had a face beneath the flat, obsidian plate. The sword rose out of the water and flared back to life. An impression painted itself on her mind. The Pit Fiend was fighting for an eternity, and she was fighting for another day. She almost felt pity. It thought she was insignificant, and yet, here they were.
It thrust the fire sword at her. She dove beneath it, into the water, and deflected it up with Solstice. More of her skin singed as the flames passed above. She closed on its head, raising Celestial Fury. The scythe-talons of its wings clutched at her, slashing uselessly at her Stoneskin. Layers fell away as its claws scrabbled at her. She hacked one of the talons out of her way with Solstice, then brought Celestial Fury down.
Her blade bit into one of the Pit Fiend’s horns, shearing it from its skull. The burning sword splashed back into the water as the crown above its head extinguished. Once more, a golden field held the monster.
“You’re wrong,” Twilight said. “I’m not fighting for me.” With that, she plunged the tip of Celestial Fury into its forehead. For a brief moment, a terrified cry echoed in her mind, the cry of an immortal being on the precipice of non-existence. Then, it all went silent.
Trembling, she pulled Celestia Fury free. Beneath the water, she could make out a ring of metal studded with rubies and obsidian. The Wonderbolts had dropped it here, a portable gateway storing the spell to summon the Pit Fiend. She thought back to what she remembered about Pit Fiends. Sacrifice, she recalled. It takes a sacrifice. A hundred ponies. Young souls. Children. A wave of nausea hit her as she turned away from the huge corpse. Her last layer of Stoneskin shattered as she extracted herself from the talons that had wrapped themselves around her body.
Maybe it was an artifact they found, she thought, stumbling through the water to the sloping edge of the crater. She knew the more likely explanation was that the Grey Wizards had created the gateway themselves, and she couldn’t help but be glad that leaving so many grey-robed corpses in Canterlot was in some way justified.
She hit the icy slope and started to climb, hoping her friends had fared well against the Wonderbolts. When she reached the rim, she peered out across the water. The smoke-blackened sky made it hard to see much, but an orange blaze lit the deck of the Solitaire less than a hundred hoofspans away. She made out figures on-board, but the ship was stationary.
With a crack, two blazing bolts of lightning flared in her periphery. They whipped around her in a tight circle, deflected back at her attackers by her Spell Turning, and she tracked them back to the source. The two bolts struck a pair of pegasi, sending them tumbling into the water.
“Really!?” Twilight shouted. “I just killed a Pit Fiend, and you’re still trying!?”
The sky above her exploded with color. A low altitude Sonic Rainboom drowned out the last few words of her shout. She clutched the rim of the crater as the shockwave threatened to send her tumbling back. Above, two more Wonderbolts tumbled out of the sky and hit the frigid ocean.
Solitaire’s deck rolled gently beneath Twilight Sparkle’s hooves. In front of her, stripped of her equipment, a fiery orange pegasus mare sat, shivering and dripping with three of her fellow fliers. Getting back on board and fishing the Wonderbolts out of the ocean before they froze or drowned hadn’t been without its challenges. Twilight had formed an unprepared Dimension Door and used her telekinesis to help jury-rig the ship’s steering. Putting out the fire that had burned up one of the railings was a small inconvenience by comparison.
Twilight eyed the Wonderbolt in front of her. “Spitfire, was it?”
“That’s Captain Spitfire!” one of the other captured Wonderbolts said.
Spitfire shot him a look. “Can it, Soarin.”
“Yeah, we don’t want to make the crazy wizard mad,” another Wonderbolt chimed in.
“I’m not crazy!” Twilight shouted, stamping her hoof on the deck. “And I’m already mad! Do you have any idea what you summoned!?”
Spitfire raised a hoof. “If you’re going to blame anypony, blame me. I gave the order. Let my team go.”
Soarin jumped to his feet. “We’re not going anywhere without her! We fight together!”
“Woah now,” Applejack said, watching from a few paces back, her chain dangling ominously from the tip of her tail. “Nopony needs to die here.” With another look from Spitfire, Soarin settled back.
Trixie stepped forward. “Noble, humm? Smart. Definitely the way to go.” She looked at Twilight. “She’ll eat it up.”
Twilight glared at Trixie. “Stay out of this.”
“I’m trying to protect you, Twilight Sparkle,” Trixie said.
“From what?” Twilight said, gesturing with Solstice at the four prisoners. “Them?”
Trixie rolled her eyes. “I’m protecting you from yourself. If you let them live, all they’ll do is report back to the Grey Wizards, giving them a better sense of our location and destination.”
“I let you live,” Twilight said. “And now, you're helping me.”
Trixie nodded slowly. “True,” she said. She eyed Twilight. “You know what? Keep being you. Its easier that way, even if you do have a terrible self-preservation instinct. You might want to try getting to Spellhold alive. It’s going to be hard to find your friend if you’re a bunch of finely chopped, roasted pony-bits.”
Twilight rolled her eyes and slowly turned. She looked to her friends, who surrounded the captured Wonderbolts. “What do you think?”
“We’re with you, Twilight,” Rainbow Dash said.
“Of course,” Rarity said, lowering her bow. “But we do have opinions.”
Rainbow shrugged. “I don’t. I’m just glad I managed to take out two of them.”
One of the Wonderbolts glared at Rainbow Dash. “You swooped in low over the deck and used covering fire from your friends to give you enough time to get up to speed for whatever that was.”
Rainbow Dash stuck out her tongue. “Still won.”
“I don’t want anypony to die,” Fluttershy said.
“I agree with Fluttershy,” Applejack said. “Leaving them floating face-down for following the Grey Wizard’s orders wouldn’t be right..”
“Besides, if we send them back with their story, the Grey Wizards might think twice about sending more. If they’re just missing, anything is possible,” Rarity said.
Trixie snickered. “That’s not going to happen.” She pointed to the pouch on Twilight’s hip. “They’ll do anything to get the Fragment back.”
Twilight shot Trixie a glare. “I already know what you think.” She looked at Spitfire. “Do you know what a Pit Fiend is?”
Spitfire shrugged. “Not really. They told us to drop it in, standoff and watch the fireworks, then swoop in and grab the Fragment when we go the chance.” She chuckled. “Then the thing dies on us less than thirty seconds after it crawled out of its portal.”
Twilight blinked. Did it really happen that fast? Under the effects of Improved Haste, it was easy to lose a clear sense of time.
“You’re all free when you feel ready to fly,” Twilight said. “Tell the Grey Wizards what happened here. If I have to climb a mountain of their corpses to release my friend, I will do it.”
Chill ripped through Twilight’s mane. They’d cleared the Hilt about half an hour ago, turning due north, and open ocean surrounded them. Even with the lost time fixing the steering, according to Florent, they should reach the ice by mid-afternoon. The Solitaire clipped smoothly through the waves, maintaining a rapid cruising speed. With her hoof on the prow, she stared into the distance. Cloud cover and flurries of snow gave the world a whitewashed bleakness.
There’s nothing to see, she told herself. They’d already sent Rainbow Dash out wearing one of the Wonderbolt’s uniforms to scout for icebergs. She had yet to decipher how exactly the Wonderbolts gained so much speed from the enchanted fabric, but it was fascinatingly insulative and resistant to penetration or abrasion, much like their Cloaks of Protection. It appeared that the speed was tied to the trail of storm clouds, and required some form of activation.
“Don’t worry,” Trixie said from nearby. “We’ll get there.”
Twilight turned. Trixie stepped up, joining her at the prow. “If the Fragment can really hold back the cold,” Twilight said, shivering. “At this rate, we’ll be needing it soon.” She eyed Trixie. “How do you know so much about it anyway?”
Trixie looked out into the white expanse. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“I’ve trusted you enough to get as far as here without real answers. What’s a little more?” Twilight said.
“Do you remember what I showed you at the carnival in Ponyville: the Crystal City?”
Twilight nodded. She clearly remembered the almost-real scene of the city from Trixie’s performance all those months ago. She also remembered how impossible it all was. Eventually, she’d realized her instincts were true; there was no way everything she knew about the limits of teleportation could be wrong.
I broke those rules today, she thought. She shouldn’t have been able to teleport the ship through the iceberg, not with Dimension Door. Spells were spells because they worked. Everything else resulted in futile light-shows, or more commonly, nothing at all. Sometimes, sorcerers like Trixie exerted flexibility in an isolated realm, like illusions, but wizards lived within limits imposed by the formula passed down from before the Time of Troubles.
“I wasn’t lying about being a Crystal Pony,” Trixie said.
Twilight blinked, parsing Trixie’s statement. She shook her head. “That’s not possible. You’re flesh and blood. You’d have to be more than a thousand years old!”
“Yes and no,” Trixie said. Her horn flared to life.
In the blink of an eye, Twilight drew her swords.
Trixie smirked. “Do you want to hear the story or not? I’m telling it my way.”
The white-washed world around Twilight dissolved. She stood on a balcony, overlooking the Crystal City, with Trixie beside her. Buildings of brilliant color spread before her, reflecting the sunlight like polished gems. She picked up on minor inaccuracies. The surface beneath her hooves felt more like wooden planks than smooth crystal. The illusion wavered.
“Suspend your disbelief, Twilight,” Trixie said. “You need to see to understand.”
Twilight took a deep breath and sheathed her swords. She closed her eyes and slowly opened them, struggling to accept what she saw. A glimmering figure grabbed her attention. An Alicorn floated before them, gently flapping crystalline wings. The Sun showed through her, sending cascading rays of pink, cream yellow, and violet in all directions. Other than being formed of crystal, the Alicorn was strikingly similar to Cadance.
“I loved her,” Trixie said. “Everypony loved her. How could we not? She was radiant perfection, and she shared it with those who followed her. Ponies beneath her wing became elementals of crystal with vast lifespans, and together, they radiated harmony across all of Equestria through the Crystal Heart.”
The scene shifted. Beneath an arching crystal structure, she joined a crowd of crystal ponies around a floating heart-shaped gemstone. The Crystal Queen stood in front of it, and before her knelt a lone, baby-blue unicorn. She was young. She’d probably only had her Mark, a crescent moon crossed by a wand, for a couple of years.
“When I decided to join the pact, I was young, and alone. I didn’t understand the War of the Gods that claimed my friends and family. I wanted purpose and sanctuary.”
The Alicorn lit her horn. The Crystal Heart flared to life. Before Twilight’s eyes, a wave of light washed over the lone unicorn. From her hooves, crystal grew up her body, replacing her flesh. As it passed, the wand disappeared from her Mark. When it reached her head, her horn faded away.
The crystal Trixie rose and turned to face Twilight. “I was young,” she said, “but I was just old enough to realize what I had given up. I missed my magic, and eventually, I asked to return to my old life. The Crystal Queen agreed, but the change took time.”
Suddenly, a jagged spike of black crystal shot up from the floor and impaled the Crystal Heart, shattering it into three pieces. The Crystal Queen collapsed and shattered into countless fragments. A shadow fell over the gathered ponies, rendering them dull and lifeless.
“Our Queen died before I was a normal pony again. All of her people fell into a stasis, and I joined them. I slept for a thousand years, unchanging. And when I woke, I was flesh and blood again, in a world I didn’t understand.”
The illusion faded. Twilight shivered violently as the cold on the deck of the Solitaire returned. She looked at Trixie. “How did you survive?”
“I wasn’t in the Crystal City when I woke up,” Trixie said. “I’d been taken and preserved by one of the Grey Wizards as a test subject. He was kind to me, and he let me go when he confirmed I had no trace of my old nature left for him to study.” She looked out across the water. “He’s in charge of Spellhold now.”
Twilight narrowed her eyes. “Wait, you know the pony that runs Spellhold? Is that why you want to go there?”
“Part of it,” Trixie said. “There’s another Fragment there. It’s how they keep the place warm so far north. I’m trying to find them all.” She met Twilight’s eyes. “There’s a Crystal Princess now. I feel like I’m meant to wake them all up for her. Maybe that’s why you gave me a second chance.”
Twilight shrugged. I don’t want to be what I was intended to be, she thought. “You have to make your path,” she said. She smiled at Trixie. “When this is over, I should be able to give you the fragment.”
Trixie smiled back at her. It was the first genuine smile Twilight had seen from the otherwise smug unicorn. “Thank you,” Trixie said.
Twilight glanced down. “So, this Grey Wizard in charge of Spellhold... will he be diplomatic?”
“Probably,” Trixie said. “He’s a bit isolated from the politics of Canterlot. His research gave the Grey Wizards their power, so they sent him out here because they’re afraid he’ll take control.” She pointed at the satchel where Twilight carried the Fragment. “All of their strength comes from the pieces of the Crystal Heart. That’s why they won’t stop trying to get it back.”
“Well, I’m glad he might listen,” Twilight said. “I wouldn’t want to have to kill him.”
A rainbow blur shot out of the white flurries over their heads. Twilight turned to see Rainbow Dash brake and land in the center of the deck. “Iceberg?” Twilight called.
“No,” Rainbow shouted, shaking frost out of her feathers. “Ice!”
Tentatively, Twilight stepped off the boarding ramp and joined her friends on a sheet of ice. Chill wind howled in her ears. A white plain stretched to the horizon. Windswept drifts of snow gleamed in sunlight shafting through gaps in the cloud cover. She stood beyond the edge of the ice, in the Frozen North, and the cold was unrelenting.
South, the way they’d come, patchwork lumps of sea ice dotted the surface. She’d moved several out of the Solitaire’s path with her levitation so that they had a clear route to the solid sheet. At a certain point, a white line stretched across the surface of the water. Beyond it, the ocean simply froze solid. Twilight knew there must be liquid somewhere beneath her hooves, but nopony knew how thick the ice was.
“This is as far as we come. Everypony off!” Florent shouted.
Twilight turned back to the ship as Trixie descended the ramp. “Are you going to be okay without us?”
Quick Fix leaned on the railing above her, a thick cloak wrapped around her shoulders. “We’ll make it. It’s less than twenty knots to Cape Guard from here.” She gazed off toward the horizon. “Weather’s clearing too.”
With a flurry of wings, Florent landed beside Quick Fix and clapped her on the back. “I told you she could make it!”
Quick Fix turned away from Twilight to glare at Florent. “And we won’t make it unless we’re underway inside of thirty seconds, so get back to the helm!”
“Hold up a moment,” Twilight said, raising a hoof. “I want to make sure this works before we’re stranded out here.” She pulled the Fragment out of her pack with a thought and presented it to Trixie. “Show me.”
Trixie took the Fragment from Twilight’s grasp, encircling it with her own levitation field. “If you insist.” She stared at the fragment for a moment, then glanced at Twilight and her friends. “I’m going to need all of your help. Think of what makes you feel warm and safe: family, home, love.”
Twilight blinked, but before she could ask for a further explanation, Trixie closed her eyes and started to hum. The dull, lifeless chunk of crystal began to glow, throbbing with warmth like charcoal in a fireplace. A pure, deep hum resonated in the air and through Twilight’s chest.
The hum lulled at her, calming like a lullaby. For a moment, her mind went blank. When she noticed her friends all closing their eyes, alarm made her snap alert. What if it’s a trick? she wondered, fighting the soothing sensation while she watched Trixie. Her heart raced.
Thoughts and impressions flitted across her mind. Blood. Thousands of red, unblinking eyes strewn across a dozen shadowy wings that filled the sky with darkness. An endless void of eternal slumber. Power: complete, absolute, control. Shadows swirled inside the Fragment. Her friends expressions twisted from peace to pained grimaces and furrowed brows.
Twilight took a deep breath. I’m ruining it, she thought. She closed her eyes and let go. Warmth resonated through her. The smell of ink and old pages. Star Swirl’s warm eyes framed by a wrinkled smile. Pinkie’s giggle-snort. Celestia’s wing around her shoulders.
Hearing a pure note, she opened her eyes. Light pulsed from the Fragment, waxing and shimmering with the colors of the rainbow, until it settled into a soft, white glow. The chill that drove through her coat and deep into her bones was gone. The wind howled across the ice, but in a sphere around the fragment, only soft breezes flowed.
“That was weird,” Rainbow Dash said, tilting her head as she inspected the crystal floating in Trixie’s grasp.
Trixie held the Fragment out to Twilight. “It should last for a while. We’ll have to refresh it occasionally.”
Twilight took the Fragment and turned to wave at the ship. Quick Fix waved back, and within a few moments the boat started to move. While the Solitaire's wake lapped against the ice, Twilight watched Florent at the helm as he carefully maneuvered the ship around the chunks of sea-ice.
“Well, looks like we’ve got a bit of a walk,” Applejack said, turning to face north. “Best get some of it done before it gets dark.”
“Marching all day,” Rarity said. “It’s been a while since we’ve done that.” She sniffed. “Can’t say I miss it.”
Fluttershy frowned. “There’s nothing out here. It’s so... lifeless.”
Twilight stared north. Somewhere, out there, in the white expanse, she would find Pinkie. Going off of feeling more than fact, she picked her best guess at Spellhold’s direction and started forward. “There’s something out here,” Twilight said. Something very important.
Twilight gazed up at the star-studded celestial dome. The sky was open, cloudless and clear, leaving the Frozen North bare to the night. Once, she’d left the Fragment with her friends and taken one step too far to try and get some privacy while she relieved herself. The experience had been unpleasant. Certain places were not supposed to freeze.
She glanced over her shoulder. Trixie and her friends huddled in a depression they’d dug in the snow, sleeping near the glowing Fragment. Even a few paces away, Twilight’s breath misted in the air. She sighed. She’d woken a while ago, and been awake long enough to notice the glow on the eastern horizon slowly get brighter. She knew it would be another long day, but sleep eluded her.
She pulled out the black journal and a stick of charcoal. Lighting her horn, she opened the book on the snow and began to write.
3rd of Nightfall, 944
I tried to call out to Spike again. He’s been gone for days. I don’t know if he’s coming back. I didn’t realize he’d been that upset. He’s always been there for me, since I started this journey. He’s good at listening. I never realized how much I needed him until he was gone. He never judged me. Maybe he’s changed.
Change. I can feel it creeping. I did something in my dreams. I locked it away after Sunset Shimmer forced it to the surface. Or something did. But even with it buried, I’m still alive.
Every day without Pinkie it gets harder to remember why it all matters. Why I should fight it. Why I should control it. I haven’t faced the Spectre again, not since my last dream, and I haven’t tried to use my divine power.
There’s another power I wield though. Something I have yet to identify. Something that makes my magic go beyond the realm of the formula passed down from before the Time of Troubles. It’s only happened once, I think. I cannot rely on it.
When the boredom sets in, staring out at endless white on a long march, my mind wanders. If I gave in, what would happen to me? What is the Shadow really like? I’ve been told Azrael is a great evil, and I have no reason to doubt that he is, but the only interaction I’ve had with him is through the fragment of his essence that haunts my dreams. Sometimes, the ponies I face in my waking hours are worse. What is evil?
I’ve made hard choices. I should be judged, by the wise and the worthy. All that matters to me anymore is my friends. I want Pinkie back, and it scares me to realize I don’t care how I accomplish that goal, as long as we’re all safe and sound in the end. If I were a better pony, I’d step up to the responsibility of being what I am. If I were a better pony, I never would have lost Pinkie. I can’t blame circumstance for my failures.
Celestia always talked about potential and possibility. I never asked to control the fates of others. I never asked for the power to bring death, but I have it, and merely possessing it forces me to make the world change, to leave my mark.
Twilight dropped the stick of charcoal in the snow. I’m rambling, she thought. Her thoughts lingered on the page like a spilled drink. She double-checked the date against a page in the back she’d been marking a calendar on. The last few days had bled together into a white smear.
An unexpected glare flared off the banks of ice, forcing her eyes nearly shut. With one eye cracked open, she extracted a thin swath of cloth from her bag she’d been using to stave off snow blindness and tied it over her eyes. Squinting, she glanced at the rising sun. Two figures were silhouetted against the burning disk. She blinked in disbelief, and tried to edge her eyes open for a better look.
The brightness muted to a manageable level. Not ten paces away, Celestia stood, her pure white coat almost invisible against the snow, her ethereal mane billowing behind her, her wings slightly spread, inviting. Beside her, Spike waved, but he had changed. He loped across the ground on all fours, leaving Celestia’s side and approaching her with a toothy grin. He was bigger, mostly longer, and the childlike roundness of his face had been replaced with a more angular appearance. Two small leathery wings were folded against his back.
Twilight shook her head, not believing her eyes. What are they doing here? she wondered. With a sidelong glance at Trixie’s sleeping form, she quickly cast Truesight. Spike was still there, a shimmering blaze of emerald fire and gemstone against a lifeless backdrop. Behind him, Celestia was a flare, almost too bright to look at.
“Twilight!” Spike cried, his voice youthful, but tinged with a roughness that had not been there before. Then, his arms were around her.
Spike’s scales warmed her coat instantly. She wrapped her hooves around him, hugging him tight. “I missed you, Spike,” she said. After a few seconds in the warm embrace, she pushed him away with her levitation and dismissed her Truesight so that she could look at him with her normal eyes. A smile tugged at her lips. “What’d you do, make a cocoon and metamorphisize?”
Spike blinked. “Uh, what?”
Twilight poked him in the chest with a hoof. “You grew. It’s only been a few days.”
Spike nodded. Settling back, he crouched on his hind legs and brought his foreclaws together, clasping them nervously. “It’s why I couldn’t come back.”
Celestia moved forward, her hooves practically gliding over the snowscape. “Spike could not be both a Dragon and a Familiar. I forged a bond between you so that you would have his help and companionship, so that he could be where I could not. The bond remains, though its nature has changed.”
Spike arched his neck, raising his head proudly. “I wanted to be more than a messenger. I wanted to be able to protect you.”
Twilight smiled. “Oh Spike, all I needed you to be was a friend.”
“Friends fight for each other,” Spike said.
“Spike will be the first true Dragon untainted by Discord in a millenia,” Celestia said. “He has only begun to grow. He has a long way to go before he matches your power, and as you change, so will he.”
“I’m proud of you, Spike,” Twilight said, reaching out to touch his claw with a hoof. She glanced over at her friends, and Trixie. They slept on. She eyed Celestia. “Why haven’t they woken up?”
“Because I intend for them to sleep,” Celestia said. “Some words are for you alone.” She gestured at Trixie with her muzzle. “Especially with an unknown variable in your midst.”
Twilight nodded. She looked up at Spike, with his long neck, his head rose above hers now, and said, “It’s good to have you back.”
Spike glanced down at the snow. “I can’t stay.”
“Spike needs more time,” Celestia said. “It will be much faster, and safer, for him to grow in the Celestial Plane. He will not be able to return to you on his own anymore.”
Twilight’s ears drooped. “I’ll... see you later then, Spike.” She managed a smile. “I never knew my older brother... that and he tried to kill me, but I’m glad I had a younger one.”
Spike met her eyes, stunned. For a moment, he stared at her, then he lunged forward and hugged her again. “I’ll always be there, Twilight.”
“I know,” Twilight said. She lifted her forelegs to return the hug, but Spike was gone, vanished in a flash of heatless emerald flame. She stumbled and caught herself before she overbalanced.
“You’re missing Pinkie,” Celestia said, stating the fact as if she’d been aware of it for some time. Her tone was blunt and carried an edge of disapproval that reminded Twilight strongly of a lecture from Starswirl.
Twilight looked down. “I lost her.” She swallowed. “It was my fault.” Her expression hardened. “I’m getting her back.”
“Good,” Celestia said, then reached out and touched Twilight’s cheek with a hoof, lifting her eyes. “Tell me how it happened.” This time, her tone was nothing but tender.
As soon as Celestia’s hoof touched her cheek, Twilight no longer felt the cold, only a calming warmth. She pulled a deep breath in through her nose. “She sacrificed herself to save me. We were caught. I don’t understand how she was so powerful...”
It came out in fits and starts, tumbled together in disorganized fragments, but Twilight told Celestia everything she could remember from the moment Sunset Shimmer ripped them out of interplanar space to when Pinkie disappeared through the Grey Wizard’s portal. Pain crossed Celestia’s face when she mentioned the spike impaling her through her core.
“She wanted something from me,” Twilight said. “But I don’t care what it was. All that matters now is getting Pinkie back.”
Celestia wrapped her wings around Twilight, creating a white tent. “I wish I could suffer for you, Twilight Sparkle, but all I can offer you is small comfort.”
Twilight gazed up at Celestia, her eyes wet with tears. “Why me!?” she shouted, anger rising. “Why did Azrael wait a thousand years for me!?” Her energy evaporated, and she leaned forward, resting her cheek against Celestia’s soft white chest. “Of all the ponies in the world, of all the creatures to be born, why me...?”
Celestia held her tenderly. “Because you are what he fears. There are elements that he cannot control, and he both loves and hates them.” She looked down and gently lifted Twilight’s head. “You are a crown jewel, a keystone, and your defiance is the only thing holding back the Shadow. Never bow, never bend the knee. Accept nothing, and question everything. As long as you are free, there is hope for us all.”
Celestia’s words echoed in Twilight’s head. She pushed away from Celestia. Accept nothing, and question everything. “Why?” Twilight said. She stepped back, through a curtain of Celestia’s feathers. “Why do I matter so much?”
Celestia folded her wings. “I can’t explain it fully.” She sighed. “I know it’s hard to accept, but you are caught up in a battle that spans a threshold of time beyond your understanding. You will know when the time is right.”
“That’s not good enough,” Twilight said. She glared at Celestia. “Every time you deny me an answer, it gets harder to have faith. Do you know how much easier it would have been if you had just told me?” She drew herself up, and doing her best impersonation of Celestia, she said, “Oh by the way, Twilight, you’re a Shadowspawn. The black-armored pony who killed Star Swirl is also a Shadowspawn and he was trying to kill you because you’re all driven to kill each other, and that’s also why you’re pretty much a psychopath.”
“And what would have been the result, had I said that?” Celestia said. “There were too many unknowns. I had a reliable baseline. You were fighting to find answers, and I directed you down that path and did what I could to give you the tools for success.” She gestured meaningfully at Celestial Fury slung across Twilight’s back. “In the end, it worked.”
Twilight snorted. “I would have known.” She scraped a furrow in the snow with her forehoof. “Didn’t you see what not understanding did to me?” She frowned. “You once said you had faith in me.”
“I have always had faith in you,” Celestia said. “When Star Swirl discovered you were a Shadowspawn, I could have spirited you away to the Celestial Plane to live out the rest of your days.” She flared her wings. “Instead, I gambled everything on you, and you ask me to gamble more?”
“What difference does it make!?” Twilight shouted.
Celestia shook her head. “If I give you the answers, you may never truly understand. Discovery is essential.” She turned away from Twilight. Looking over her shoulder, she said, “Find Pinkie. A keystone is useless without the arch.” Her horn glowed, and in a flash of sunlight, she was gone.
“Do you get off on being cryptic!?” Twilight yelled into the howling wind.
“What in tarnation are you shouting about?” Applejack said as she pushed herself up into a sitting position.
Twilight glanced over her shoulder. Around the Fragment, ponies stirred. “Nothing,” Twilight said.
“Didn’t sound like nothing,” Applejack grumbled. “Well, looks like the Sun is up. Best get walking.”
In the snow, something gleamed. “Wait,” Twilight said. She pulled the object loose. It was a scroll, wrapped around a golden rod. She floated it close. A cord kept the scroll from unfurling. Next to the knot was a note. It read: Try it.
Twilight unfurled the scroll. She scanned it. Scrawled in intricate detail across the parchment was all the knowledge she needed to cast a spell. Simulacrum.
Traveling across the frozen sea was slow, a slog through deep drifts. Towering formations of wind-shaped ice defined the otherwise featureless landscape, resulting in long detours or slippery climbs over frozen ridges.
Twilight’s first attempt at Simulacrum involved a critical mistake and feedback that left her horn sore for a day. But, by her third attempt, she’d grown to understand how the magic worked. She reflected her soul on a mix of snow and crushed diamonds. Today, as she clambered up a slope of snow, digging her hooves in deep for purchase, a near perfect copy of her walked beside her.
The simulacrum could cast spells like her without depleting her own resources. It could carry her swords, and fight with them. However, it was fragile and easily disrupted. A single strike, or even too much wind, could tear it apart.
“That thing is creepy,” Rainbow Dash said, looking between her and the copy. She fluttered lazily in the air, like a backstroke in a calm pond. She had to stick close to the Fragment to stay warm.
“You’re just disconcerted by seeing two of us. Your subconscious realizes that only one of us is real,” both Twilights said in unison. Twilight, the real one, winced. It was weird when her simulacrum spoke. She tried talking to it once. She knew what it was going to say before it said it. It was like having a conversation with herself in her head, but one given voice.
“Case in point,” Rainbow said.
“Okay, maybe it’s a little creepy,” Twilight said. This time, the simulacrum did not speak. Probably because it realized its weird when it talks at the same time I did, she thought. She grimaced, trying not to think about it too much. On the surface, it was simple. At the point in time when she created the simulacrum, they were identical except for the instinct of self-preservation, and the only thing that seperated them now was different sensory pictures. They would have largely the same thoughts and the same conclusions. Still, it was uncanny enough that her mind struggled with the concept. She wondered what it would be like, to know that she didn’t really exist.
Trixie paused, waiting for Twilight’s simulacrum to catch up to her. As it passed, she laughed. Shaking her head in amusement at some unknown joke, she continued forward.
Twilight’s ears twitched back. “What’s so funny?”
“You.” Trixie chuckled. “The first time I met you, you were such a wide-eyed novice. Now, you’ve mastered what takes a lifetime for other wizards, and yet the younger you was so ready to believe that I had powers beyond your understanding. I would be surprised if there was a spell you couldn’t cast.”
“It was all spelled out for me on the scroll,” Twilight said. “I got lucky. If anypony else had Star Swirl as a teacher, they’d be able to do what I can do. Maybe better.” Well, Star Swirl, Celestia, and other things, Twilight thought, but she wasn’t about to mention her Shadowspawn nature to Trixie, or the details of how she had acquired the scroll.
“You really believe that, don’t you?” Trixie said. “You were able to beat a Pit Fiend because you got lucky?”
“It was mostly the sword,” Twilight said.
“And not the mare,” Trixie said. She laughed again. “You’re still so ready to believe you’re inadequate.”
Twilight faltered, slipping on the ice. Applejack set a shoulder against her and kept her from sliding back down the slope. “Thanks,” Twilight said as she looked ahead to the top of the ridgeline. Only a few more steps.
“No problem,” Applejack said.
“For what it’s worth, you are exceptional, Twilight,” Rarity said.
Even with all the help I had, Sunset Shimmer still trapped me, and the Grey Wizards still took Pinkie away, she thought. Twilight shook her head. “If somepony else were put in my situation, I’m sure they would have done better.”
“How do you know that?” Fluttershy said.
Before Twilight could ponder her answer, Rainbow Dash touched down on top of the icy ridge. “Woah,” she said. “Girls, you’ve gotta see this.”
Twilight joined her at the top of the slope. Beyond, a rocky island rose from the white plain like the blade of a dagger thrust toward the sky. Ice encased its base, running up channels in the stone and climbing toward a tower nestled in a crag.
The tower looked entirely out of place. Not a single icicle hung from the eves of its conical roof. It was immaculate, when everything out here should be a ruin. No steps led to the tower, and it had no door.
“Spellhold,” Twilight said. They’d reached their destination.
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Huh, that's an interesting bit of trivia about Baldur's Gate 2.
Also, great chapter! <3
Hmm Twilight is the keystone but Pinkie is the arch. INteresting but what will it mean?
Sooo awesome
Is the spelling for Simuraculum intentional?
4999198
The keystone completes the arch. Also, without the keystone, the arch won't stand.
Can I favorite this again? Every new chapter is a pleasure.
5001725
Unintentional, and fixed. Thanks.
this was real good
5001725
Exactly. I can figure out bow Pinkie would need Twilight or she may fail but somehow I think the fact that Pinkie is the arch is probably significant as well.
Oh man, I didn't realize this was Shadows of Amn...
Having just reread The Sword Coast, I look forward to your reimagining of Jon Irenicus...
I think that was his name- been so long that I can't even recall the name of the wicked wizard with the crazy spell effects, heh.
And it's Sunset Shimmer.
I didn't see that one coming...
Celestia is such a Monty Haul. If I had half the badass loot she's been hoofing out, BG2 would've been a much shorter game.
typo: "through the Grey Wizard’s portal" => "Grey Wizards' portal", note the apostrophe.
Well, I guess a cryptic mentor bearing gifts is better than just a cryptic mentor with nothing but riddles.
Wait, the simulacrum is sentient and sapient? Oh my eternal ethical quandaries...
There are a number of reasons this is funny.
Little late on this, but knots are a measure of speed, not distance. Nautical miles are the distance involved here, though those involved would probably just say "miles."