Chapter 1
Princess Celestia stared with carefully concealed disgust at Twilight Sparkle as she made her way slowly along the avenue below. From her balcony, high above the festivities, Celestia could allow herself a moment of less-than-perfect control. A sneer appeared briefly as she audited the deficiencies of the approaching figure.
If the coat was gaudy, the mane and tail were even more so. The enormous tiara, fitted with a seemingly random array of gems, was certainly not something a true princess would ever wear. The garments — impractical even as ceremonial garb went — looked to be based on contemporary ideas of long-past fashion trends that had, in fact, never occurred. Worst of all were the unblinking, soulless eyes and the empty smile to match.
Even Twilight herself would have been offended by the float, but it had arrived about four centuries late for that.
Cheers from the ponies lining the street on either side of the procession blended into a dull roar in Celestia’s ears. She wanted nothing more than to retreat from the balcony, to hide in her chambers and refuse to acknowledge the day, just as her sister always did.
For a moment, she let herself wallow in her envy. Year after year, it was Celestia who indulged their ponies in this nonsense. Why couldn’t Luna stand in, even once? Because when it came to matters of image — of giving everypony the impression that everything would be alright — the responsibility always fell to her. If Luna bore a burden even half as heavy as that, Celestia couldn’t name it.
Acknowledging and then dismissing this resentment had become something of an annual ritual for her. With a wave to the crowds below and the return of her customary smile, Celestia let it fade away — until next year, at least.
None of the celebrating ponies lining the streets of the capital knew much about Twilight Sparkle, but they were still all too happy to scream their lungs raw and eat far too much when their calendars told them it was appropriate. Watching a funeral gradually become a carnival had been one of the more interesting experiences of Celestia’s life, from a sociological point of view.
Sparkle Day hadn’t yet become quite as blatantly ahistorical as Hearth’s Warming Eve, if only because there was not yet a Sparkle Day play that could be crafted into a sermon on some missing social virtue. Of course, the meaning that had at some point been tacked onto Hearth’s Warming Eve had led to its eventual decline in prominence, as racial harmony had become less an aspiration and more a reality. It seemed doubtful that Sparkle Day would follow that course, as long as it was only a day of general merrymaking.
Perhaps Celestia could engineer something to that end. Typically, she was loathe to interfere with such things; telling her ponies what, when, or how to celebrate was not a role she wanted. Still, when a single day caused such a surge of resentment, both towards her sister and her subjects, change was in order.
A door opened behind her, interrupting her musings and forcing her to collect herself lest anypony see anything but serene benevolence in her manner.
“Princess?” the newcomer called. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”
“It’s alright, Ash,” Celestia said, recognizing the voice of her seneschal without turning to look. “What is it?”
“There’s a pony seeking an audience.”
Celestia waited silently for further explanation. There were, at any given time, hundreds of ponies seeking an audience. Filtering them appropriately was a large part of Ash Scribe’s duties.
“A friend of hers has gone missing,” Ash continued. “The circumstances of the disappearance are… well, you should meet her.”
Celestia arched an eyebrow as she finally turned. “Has she spoken to the guard?”
“Oh, she’s not from here, Princess,” Ash said quickly. “She came here from Stonehoof.”
Ash certainly seemed convinced, and he might be the foremost living authority on stories concocted to bend royal ears. It was a good enough excuse to miss an hour or two of the parade, in any case. Celestia stood and made for the door, Ash Scribe falling into step beside her.
“You can explain further on the way,” Celestia said.
“Well, I’ll try,” Ash said with uncharacteristic uncertainty. “You know that Stonehoof is rather remote—”
Celestia snorted at the understatement. Stonehoof had been founded with the intent of denying the very existence of the outside world. It was two days’ walk from its nearest neighbor, and for any pony without wings, walking was the only option. Last Celestia knew, it was populated entirely by earth ponies, which meant that today’s petitioner had made quite an effort to see her.
“—so we don’t have as much information as we might like to corroborate the story. But about one week ago, one of the townsponies was attacked by a creature he wasn’t able to properly identify. I don’t quite grasp all the details, but a day later, one of the town elders was missing.”
“So they sent a messenger to Canterlot, which they despise, instead of forming search parties?” Celestia asked quizzically.
“This is all better explained by our visitor,” Ash said, brown ears flattening against his head in an uncommon display of timidity.
Celestia gave him a measuring look. The unicorn was typically more than happy to give his views on the motivations and potential exaggerations of any petitioner, something Celestia had always valued. They walked on in silence for a moment longer before arriving at the door of one of the palace’s reception chambers.
“Shall I accompany you?” Ash asked.
“No,” Celestia said after a moment’s consideration. Ash clearly believed that this visitor was in some way out of the ordinary. Either he was correct, in which case the meeting might be sensitive enough to warrant his exclusion, or he wasn’t, in which case his judgement wouldn’t be of any use to her.
She opened the door and stepped through. Inside, she was surprised to find a unicorn waiting for her on a provided cushion. She looked young — between twenty and thirty years old — but carried herself with admirable confidence, especially given that this was her first time meeting royalty. Unlike many who came seeking an audience, she hadn’t dressed up for the occasion. In fact, her mottled gray coat showed clear signs of her long journey; bits of dirt clumped into her fur, especially visible around the silver-white fringes of her mane and tail. Apparently, she hadn’t even stopped to groom herself before coming to the palace.
Beside her on the floor were a pair of bulging saddlebags, no doubt loaded with all the supplies needed for the trek to and from Canterlot. She stood as Celestia entered, then dipped into an ill-practiced bow.
“Princess,” she greeted. “Thank you for seeing me.”
Another surprise was that this pony’s speech was not particularly difficult to decipher. She would have expected Stonehoof’s dialect to hardly be classifiable as such by now, but aside from a casual approach to vowel sounds, it was nearly passable as modern Equestrian.
“It’s a pleasure,” Celestia said automatically. “How may I address you?”
“My name is Lumen, Princess,” the unicorn said, rising from her bow and standing awkwardly, as if unsure whether protocol allowed for her to return to her seat. Her slightly nervous green eyes were locked on Celestia, waiting for a cue.
Celestia took a seat across from Lumen and smiled, beckoning for her visitor to do the same. “Why don’t you explain why you’re here?” she prompted.
“My friend, Autumn Wind, is missing.” The words were plain enough, as was their delivery, but there was an palpable urgency to them all the same.
“And I’m sure there’s some reason you came directly to me for help,” Celestia said, managing somehow not to sound sarcastic.
“Because that’s what she told me to do.”
Celestia took a moment to digest the information. “She told you this before she disappeared?”
Lumen nodded, prompting a deep sigh from the princess.
“If somepony plans to leave, and then does, they aren’t really missing,” Celestia said, allowing herself a rare display of exhausted patience.
“It’s not like that,” Lumen protested. “After the wyvern attacked Old Sawdust, she said she needed to investigate, and that if she didn’t come back, you and Princess Luna needed to know.”
“Wyvern?” Celestia repeated, suppressing a laugh. “Wyverns haven’t been sighted in Equestria in centuries. Aside from my sister and myself, there isn’t a pony alive who could even recognize one.”
“Autumn can. She knew exactly what it was when she saw it, and how to fight it. Don’t think we would have been able to drive it off, otherwise.”
Celestia forced her expression back to the neutral calm she’d spent so many years perfecting. “I’m sorry. I’m sure your trust in your friend is well founded, but if your town had actually been attacked by a wyvern, Stonehoof would be gone now. There might be four living ponies who could even give one pause, and I know where all of them are.”
Lumen was clearly unmoved by the argument. “She’s never been wrong about this kind of thing before.”
The pony’s stubbornness was not surprising. Celestia shook her head apologetically. “I can have a guard unit fly you home and search the area for any threats,” she offered. “They might even find your friend.”
“Will it include one of those four ponies who can challenge a wyvern?” Lumen asked.
“No, but that won’t be an issue,” Celestia said with uncharacteristic harshness. She wasn’t sure why Ash Scribe had bothered her with this; ponies with impossible stories were not uncommon in his work, and he’d had no trouble dealing with them in the past. She stood, and turned toward the door.
“Autumn said you might not believe me,” Lumen said from behind her. “So she had me take this, as a last resort.”
Against her better instincts, Celestia turned back to look as one of Lumen’s saddlebags opened and a single item, packed carefully atop everything else, floated out.
“Where did you get that?” she demanded, her suddenly venomous tone one that hadn’t been heard from her in generations.
“I told you,” Lumen said meekly.
“Where did she get it?”
“I don’t know,” Lumen answered in a pleading tone. Unsurprisingly, her composure had fled in the face of Celestia’s anger.
The object in question was an iridescent lavender feather about the length of Celestia’s foreleg. It shimmered in the light, giving it an otherworldly appearance that was impossible to fake. The very idea that any being — pony, wyvern, or whatever else — had been carrying it around as some kind of token for all these years infuriated Celestia to her core.
“Don’t move,” she ordered, and stormed out of the room, the feather floating behind her in her golden aura.
“Ash,” she called as she emerged into the corridor.
Her seneschal was standing about a dozen paces away — far enough that he was clearly not eavesdropping, but near enough to be convenient if he was needed. “Yes, Princess?”
“Arrange a carriage immediately. Fast flyers. No guards.”
“But Princess…” Ash’s complaints died on his lips as he caught a glimpse of the fire in Celestia’s eyes. “Right away.” He turned to carry out his orders.
“Wait,” Celestia said, then floated the feather over to him. “When Luna emerges, give this to her.”
Ash took it carefully in his own telekinetic grip. He clearly didn’t know what it was, but just as clearly understood that it was extremely important to Celestia. “Understood.”
Celestia wasn’t sure it was a good idea. There was no telling how her sister might react. All she could say for certain was that if she didn’t share this with her, and Luna found out, there wouldn’t be peace between them for decades to come.
---
Interrogation en route yielded frustratingly little information. For a pony who had, by her own account, practically been raised by this Autumn Wind, Lumen knew next to nothing of her past. At the end of four maddening hours, Celestia knew that Autumn was a unicorn, that she’d arrived in Stonehoof well before Lumen was born, that she served as a teacher and town elder when appropriate, and that Lumen was given to hero worship of alarming intensity.
It was also clear that, whatever forces may have been manipulating her, Lumen was acting in good faith. This didn’t improve Celestia’s disposition towards the young mare as much as it probably should have, but it did lessen her anxiety somewhat.
When she was finally convinced that she wouldn’t get anything more of use out of the unicorn, Celestia let the carriage fall silent. It would still be another hour or so to Stonehoof. She would need the time to calm herself for whatever was to come.
“Princess?” Lumen spoke up after some time. “Can I ask you a question?”
“You may,” Celestia replied stonily.
“Autumn told me not to use the feather if I could avoid it, but she didn’t tell me it would make you so angry.”
“You probably wouldn’t have, if you’d known,” Celestia reasoned.
“No pony would,” Lumen said with a shudder. “But still — it’s just a feather. I mean, it’s pretty, sure, but why is it so important?”
Earlier, Celestia might have been surprised by Lumen’s ignorance. Although she wouldn’t expect any random pony to know Twilight Sparkle’s plumage when they saw it, one who had come into possession of such a thing and carried it directly to the capital before presenting it to Celestia herself was hardly any random pony. Now, though, Celestia understood that Lumen had been kept thoroughly in the dark on many if not all aspects of her journey.
“You might need a new name after this,” Celestia mused.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Celestia paused as she considered how much to share. Lumen didn’t seem like the type of pony who wanted anything at all to do with the press or nobility. Once her adventure was over, she imagined the unicorn would return to the self-imposed invisibility of Stonehoof. Even if she did talk, Celestia wasn’t sure anypony would care. “That feather belonged to Twilight Sparkle. No trace of her was ever found — or so we believed. For it to turn up now, preserved as it was, is troubling for a number of reasons.”
“Oh. Twilight Sparkle.” Lumen’s expression shifted from curiosity to distaste.
Celestia raised an eyebrow, intrigued. To nearly all modern ponies, Twilight Sparkle was nothing more than the brightly colored icon for their favorite day-long party. Outside the reach of mainstream Equestrian culture, Lumen had apparently come across some different ideas.
“You don’t care for Princess Twilight?” Celestia asked, trying to keep the question as light and unintimidating as possible. It was difficult, given the nature of their short history together.
“Autumn had some, um, thoughts on her,” Lumen said uneasily. “I don’t remember a lot of the specifics — it was fifteen years ago that she taught me about Equestrian government. She said that each of you had a role, and that Twilight Sparkle failed in hers. That that was why she died.”
“An interesting interpretation,” Celestia said, careful to keep her tone and expression neutral. “What did she believe Twilight’s role to be?”
“She was the mediator — or, she was supposed to be. Like I said, I don’t remember it all, and I’m not sure I ever understood it, so I guess I shouldn’t have feelings about her one way or the other. But those things kind of rub off on you, you know?”
“There was no mediating the dispute that killed her,” Celestia said sadly. “Those events were set in motion long before she was born.”
“Not that,” Lumen said with a shake of her head. “Princess Twilight was supposed to mediate between you and Princess Luna.”
Celestia’s stare might have eventually burned a hole through her companion, but she caught herself after a moment and, with some effort, regained her composure. It was time for sunset, and they would be landing near Stonehoof not long after that. Until then, she resolved, they would ride in silence.
---
Celestia had never visited Stonehoof before, but it was largely the same as she’d imagined. A loose cluster of rustic dwellings centered around a single-room town hall that also served as the library, lost-and-found, and any other public function that the locals could acknowledge without damaging their individualist self-images. The town’s namesake, an impressive butte, towered above, interrupting a landscape of rolling, forested hills.
Their first stop was Autumn Wind’s house. It was far enough from any other buildings that, with Lumen’s guidance, the pair was able to reach and enter without being noticed by the townsponies. Though Celestia did intend to find Autumn — or whatever was left of her — soon enough, at the moment she was much more concerned with the who than the where. Lumen watched with a mixture of impatience and discomfort as Celestia efficiently tore the house apart.
Unfortunately, if there had ever been anything of interest here, it was gone now. All the house contained were the barest supplies of basic living. That didn’t seem right — Autumn had been a teacher, and according to Lumen, a powerful unicorn as well.
“Where are the magic supplies?” Celestia asked.
“What?”
“She practiced, didn’t she? And taught you? Where are the weights? The light crystals? The spellbooks?”
“I don’t know what any of those things are,” Lumen said. “When she taught me to use magic, we just used whatever was around.”
“She was keeping that feather somewhere,” Celestia almost growled. “You don’t have any idea where she might have stashed something like that?”
Lumen shook her head. “If we found her, we could ask her.”
Celestia felt a sudden stab of sympathy as she glanced at the unicorn. For Celestia, this was about investigating a possible threat to her kingdom — important certainly, but impersonal and almost depressingly routine. For Lumen, somepony she cared about was missing. Possibly in danger. Possibly already dead.
“We’d better find her then,” Celestia said, hoping her smile was not so reassuring as to be dishonest.
---
The forest around Stonehoof was inappropriately quiet. Moreover, it had clearly been that way for some time; not only were there no creatures, there was no evidence of their presence any time in the recent past. Birds’ nests sat empty, game trails were grown over, and burrows collapsed. It had been weeks — maybe months — since anything other than the townsponies had walked these woods.
“How long has it been like this?” Celestia asked.
“Two weeks. Maybe three,” Lumen replied. “We got the feeling that something was scaring everything else off. Thought it was timberwolves at first — that happens every few years.”
“But now you think otherwise?” Celestia prodded.
Lumen scowled. “You know what I think it is.”
Celestia sighed and continued walking. The theory fit — aside from the fact that the wyverns had been all but eradicated and their remnants contained centuries ago. However Autumn Wind had come by her unique understanding of history, she had apparently missed that detail. Or she knew quite well that it was impossible, but found them a convenient means of manipulation.
Why wyverns, though? She could scare her neighbors with any number of much more plausible stories, and if she wanted the attention of the royalty, she need only use that inexplicable feather, just as she’d done.
“Do you want some light?” Lumen asked, clearly hoping to be useful.
The shafts of moonlight piercing the forest canopy had been good enough for Celestia, but she hadn’t really been searching with her eyes to begin with. “Please,” she said, more to indulge the unicorn than out of any real need. Lumen’s horn glowed with steadily increasing intensity as Celestia returned to her thoughts.
The puzzle of Autumn Wind weighed on her more with each passing moment. Her possession of the feather — whether she’d had it for some time, or taken it from whatever she’d encountered in the woods and called a wyvern — was impossible. There was no real starting point for that problem, so as much as it alarmed her, she wasted little thought on it.
Her bare house was suspicious; even the most spartan ponies had more to show for their lives than that. It was as if she’d expected it to be searched and stripped it in anticipation. If she was looking to disappear and leave no clues by which to be tracked, it might have made sense, but in that case she would not have deliberately engineered the situation in which the highest possible authority personally ransacked her home.
She had engineered it, though — Celestia hadn’t thought of it in those terms until now. Autumn Wind, a pony she’d never met or heard of, had decided that she wanted the Goddess of the Sun to leave Canterlot for Stonehoof, and simple as that, it was done. Embarrassing.
Assuming ill intent, the question was whether the goal was to place her in Stonehoof, or out of Canterlot. If there was a good place to ambush Celestia, this wasn’t it. The concerns about collateral damage that would limit her options near any kind of population center were not an issue here. A trap seemed unlikely.
A diversion, though, made sense, especially if it was assumed that Luna would also leave the capital. She probably would have, if Lumen had arrived any other day. Was that an error of planning, or execution?
“Princess!” Lumen called, interrupting Celestia’s increasingly dark thoughts.
Lumen was pointing with a hoof at a dark shape almost directly in front of Celestia. She’d been so lost in her theories that she’d nearly walked into it. As the light from Lumen’s horn focused on it, Celestia was forced to discard those theories and begin working on new ones.
It was a jumble of black-scaled skin and talons, about three times the size of a pony. Most of that bulk was in the tail and wings. Standing, it would have been only slightly taller than Lumen, but to say that it lacked that capability now understated the situation. This was more a collection of spare parts than a creature.
“What is it?” Lumen asked, revulsion clear in her voice.
Celestia swallowed a sizable dose of pride. “It was a wyvern,” she said slowly. “Until something much more dangerous found it.”
She mentally catalogued the beings that could be responsible. An adult dragon was capable. A water serpent might be, if the fight took place in the water — unlikely given their distance from the nearest stream. A changeling queen, possibly aided by her brood, was also theoretically possible. She briefly played with the idea that Autumn Wind could be a changeling.
Her murky past, her odd perspective on Equestrian history, and the power described by Lumen all matched a changeling queen better than a rural unicorn. She’d been in Stonehoof for at least a few decades though — long enough to teach Lumen from a young age. Longer, by the accounts of the townsponies, though Lumen couldn’t attest to that directly.
In Celestia’s encounters with the various changeling broods, she’d never found them capable of planning more than a few months into the future. Though the queens lived indefinitely, the hive’s attention span seemed to be about the same as a drone’s lifetime. Still, it was possible that undiscovered broods were different — in fact, it might be that undiscovered broods were undiscovered precisely because of their relatively farsighted thinking. The theory fit well enough with what she knew of Autumn Wind, but there was still a question of motivation.
“Um, Princess,” Lumen spoke up hesitantly. “Are those wyverns too?”
The unicorn was looking to the sky, where numerous winged figures happened to be gliding past.
“Yes,” Celestia said calmly. This, at least, was straightforward. There would be questions later about how it all happened, but right now Celestia had exactly one course of action open to her. The simplicity was almost pleasant, despite the circumstances. “I’m going to need you to do something for me, Lumen.”
Lumen tore her eyes away from the sky looked at Celestia expectantly.
“Tell my drivers to go. They can leave the carriage, I just need them to get word to Canterlot, as quickly as they possibly can. Now, this will be a little disorienting.” Celestia’s horn lit, and Lumen disappeared.
The princess took a deep breath and spread her wings, then took flight.
Even among her enemies Celestia, did not have the reputation of a killer. She certainly didn’t think of herself as one. Still, she’d killed more than any other pony in history. Violence, she believed, was a symptom of poor preparation.
Complacency was a better description in this case. Her vigilance had faltered, and now these wyverns would pay for her failure.
The first blast of golden energy vaporized three beasts flying in tight formation, then continued undiminished into the sky. Before any could react, a second effort picked off another pair. The wyverns finally scattered, the air filling with terrible screeches of alarm.
Celestia grimaced at the noise and pushed higher, seeking another target while trying to get some idea of the scope of the invasion. She could count a dozen now and had already destroyed five. Alerted by the sound of a wingbeat behind her, she rolled quickly, startling her would-be attacker, and slipped laterally away from its outstretched talons as it tried and failed to correct the angle of its dive.
As it dove past her she landed a kick to the side of its head with a rear hoof, then applied a telekinetic boost to speed its already rapid descent. Not waiting to see the result of the maneuver, she inverted again and climbed. Far enough above the forest canopy now, Celestia could see the full extent of the swarm.
There were at least forty, with a few stragglers still behind her. Her sudden attack had only dispersed them for a few seconds. Now they were reconverging on what appeared to be their target: Stonehoof’s town hall. That raised a number of questions Celestia had no time to ponder.
Unfortunately, the bulk of the swarm was now between Celestia and Stonehoof, meaning purely magical attacks such as she’d used a moment ago would be a danger to the town. With a beat of her wings, she powered forward. If she could scatter them again, she might be able to position herself to better protect the town before they could reform. With speed only one other pony could match, she plunged into the group, striking several with outstretched hooves as she passed through.
Before they could react, she was through them and circling back. The attack had had its intended effect; the wyverns were once again scattered, allowing Celestia to take up a defensive position above the town hall. She hovered there, her glare daring the creatures to come. Instead, they seemed content to circle at a distance.
That was troubling. Wyverns were not known for self-control or teamwork — at least not when left to their own devices. They didn’t exactly seem unconcerned, but neither were they panicking and fleeing — or panicking and attacking, which was equally likely in their case. Some as-yet-unseen actor had arranged this; that much seemed certain. Whether said actor had planned on Celestia’s presence was less so. There still wasn’t enough here to threaten her in any real way. If this were a scheme to kill or capture her, its authors had underestimated her severely. Or perhaps she hadn’t seen the full extent of the scheme yet.
The dragon came at her from the side; she didn’t see it until it was almost on top of her. Normally dragons were hard to miss, but trying to keep eyes on wyverns in every direction while also puzzling over the tangled mess of events that had brought her here made for a blind spot roughly the size of Equestria.
With a grunt of frustration, she flared her wings and pushed herself clear of the dragon’s charge. To do so was to cede her position above the town hall, giving the invaders an unblocked path to it and making it harder for her to fight them without risking the town, but she wasn’t entirely confident that she could have erected a shield of sufficient power to repel the dragon in the time available.
She didn’t recognize this dragon, though judging by its size it was at least a few centuries old. Like its pet wyverns, its scaling was predominantly black, with a dark purple underbelly. It stopped in the space Celestia had just vacated and smiled smugly at her, before folding its wings and letting itself drop onto the town hall, crushing it. Hopefully, everypony in Stonehoof was safe in their own homes, asleep.
Noises of excitement arose from the remaining wyverns, who were still circling at a distance. With a sweep of its tail, the dragon swept away the wreckage, then dug into the ground with a claw, growling triumphantly. With nothing left to protect in the dragon’s immediate vicinity, Celestia prepared to attack, then paused as something caught her eye.
Several semi-translucent glowing tendrils were snaking their way out of the ground, growing both in length and brilliance as the dragon, oblivious, continued digging. It didn’t notice its predicament until it was almost completely entangled. Alarmed, Celestia beat her wings, climbing to put distance between herself and the dragon. An unknown but powerful magic was at work; she had no reason to assume it would only target her foes.
All at once, the mystical tethers tightened, drawing a startled growl from their catch. It strained uselessly against the tendrils, which continued to tighten as more joined the web.
Celestia squinted, wondering if her eyes were deceiving her; it appeared as if the whole jumble, dragon and all, was shrinking. Another few seconds left no doubt. The dragon was now the size of the building it had destroyed. In another moment, it was halved again. Fascinated, Celestia didn’t pay any mind to the panicked retreat of the wyverns.
Prudence dictated that she return to Canterlot and share this development with her sister. They could research, prepare, and then face whatever being was responsible together. This was beyond dragons and wyverns; risking a confrontation alone would be reckless.
Celestia, as she’d been told countless times before, was a bit reckless. She let herself float to the ground, where she looked curiously at the now foal-sized dragon. It had stopped shrinking, and was contained in a neatly spherical cage of swirling magical energy.
“Cute,” she said, affecting nonchalance.
“You were supposed to bring Luna,” a voice whispered from no particular direction. “You should have been here sooner.”
“So that you could capture both of us the same way?” Celestia asked with a raised eyebrow. Her facade of calm was somewhat diminished by the constant movement of her eyes, scanning for any newly arrived tendrils around her hooves.
No answer was forthcoming.
“Who and what are you?” Celestia asked, infusing her voice with all the authority she’d learned in her millenia on the throne. “Autumn Wind?”
“Autumn Wind is gone,” came the reply. The voice was no longer a whisper, and its origin no longer a mystery. It quite clearly belonged to the purple alicorn emerging from the woods on the other side of the wreckage.
Celestia had never been one to let surprise overwhelm her; she didn’t cry out or freeze in place, only gazed coolly at the newcomer as she took a mental inventory of all that this changed. It answered a great many questions. It raised even more. Almost all of them carried mountains of emotional baggage. There was no time for those under the circumstances.
“Why did they come here?” Celestia asked instead.
Twilight looked sadly at the ruin of the town hall, then contemptuously at the miniaturized dragon. “This is where I buried him.”
Stats
Page generated in 0.026 seconds
Total duration
1,093 users online
1,504,991 hits today, 1,822,946 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Sweet! This looks like it will be a fun ride.
You're giving me too much credit as "prereader"; really I just got early viewing access, though please keep me in mind for future feedback.
The big benefit of reading it early is that I knew weeks ago I'd be following this. High princess adventure, ancient mysteries, and epic dragon-smashing badassery -- what's not to like? Looking forward to seeing it unspool!
This looks like fun.
Looks like an interesting start. I wasn't expecting for Twilight to show up so early on, and was even thinking Autumn might have been someone associated with her disappearance rather than the princess herself. I'm not generally a big fan of mystery through denying the reader knowledge held by the viewpoint character, but in this case I suppose the circumstances of Twilight's apparent death might reasonably not have been at the top of Celestia's mind, and in any case the new situation has enough to offer on its own. I look forward to seeing where this goes.
A couple of editing points:
That was troubling. wyverns were not known
"wyverns" should be capitalized
Maybe three.” Lumen replied
That period should be a comma.
Can't wait for more, I absolutely loved Two Pair.
Very interesting! This promises to be a good read.
Very promising! Your princess characterization is quite deft, and I'm looking forward to more.
I haven't read the rest of it yet, but holy shit that's good opening line.
Okay, that whole thing about the first line being brilliant? The rest blew it out of the water.
Loved Two Pair; similar or not, if this is in the same universe and features the same (non-time-traveling) characters, I'm already hooked for the duration.
This might not have many views or upvotes yet, but when your first 8-9 commenters have an average of almost 500 followers each, chances are you're onto something.
I knew Autumn Wind was Twilight, but how did you make me uncertain of that theory? You must be truly clever to do that.
Okay. Yep. Consider me hooked.
Loved Two Pair, Love this. Can't wait to see where this goes.
Yeah, that was a pretty great start. Consider me along for the ride.
Loved Two Pair... looking forward to more of this!
Celestia, Luna, maybe Cadance, but whose the fourth? I would say Twilight since Celestia must know she's alive due to the events of Two pair, but she obviously doesn't know where she is.
"Even among her enemies Celestia, did not have the reputation of a killer. She certainly didn’t think of herself as one. Still, she’d killed more than any other pony in history. Violence, she believed, was a symptom of poor preparation.
Complacency was a better description in this case. Her vigilance had faltered, and now these wyverns would pay for her failure."
That is... I think the best perspective on violence I've ever seen an Equestrian espouse. Favourited, just for that.
5718471
Discord perhaps?