Civil Distinction

by SpitFlame

Chapter 6: The Shadows Retreat

A hedge of shadows, as dark as a bottomless well, rounded off beyond the Crystal Empire, resting above the snow-capped mountains, conforming to its every nook and edge, sweeping down the paths like a terrible avalanche. Indeed, the Empire could no longer be seen, merely replaced by a titanic pulp of black smog, racing with extraordinary velocity towards the approaching locomotive. A look to the east revealed a similar fate: a wave too great and towering to be fully observed at a single angle connected to the rest of the blanket, the one covering the houses and castle. The calm before the storm, whatever it was, had behaved far too quietly.

Naturally, the group broke into a most wasteful panic.

"Lot less privy than we thought," remarked Serath in a low voice.

"No, no, no, no!" cried Twilight, beside herself to a stage of disparity, glaring frantically out the window, as if wishing it weren't real. "How could this have happened? Were—we were mistaken? What did we do wrong? Oh... what happened!"

"This is what King Sombra wanted," said Celestia gravely, at the edge of her nerves, yet remained composed. "He knew exactly what he bargained for at Vanhoover, doubly so in Tall Tale. This doesn't make any sense; we should have had at least another twelve hours before his smoke touched the Crystal Empire's borders. There's hundreds of kilometers between us and Canterlot, to my knowledge."

Luna mumbled something almost entirely incoherent, shaking her head slowly.

"A tad more action would suffice—greatly, in fact!" demanded Corvo, nearly jumping from his seat. "The Crystal Empire is taken, not much more we can do! It must not end here, least of all when at this distance. Discord, split the waters and ride us out of here at once!" Haste was the only thing on his mind.

"Oh, er, of course! Surely we can't end up like this! Sail away!" said Discord without ease, his lips twitching with an edge of indignation; he smacked his paws and claws together, emitting a flash of magic, an aurora swallowing the locomotive whole, only for an instance. The train teleported in such a fraction of time that before anyone could come to their senses they were heading in the opposite direction, without ever losing momentum; in fact, their acceleration seemed to multiple.

Discord went on with evident alarm: "So only now do we get the short end of the... well, of the situation! And after so much well-sought progress, too."

A shift of potential force waved across the cart, leaning everyone back and even throwing some deep into their seats. A widening boom of compressed air followed shortly. It took a bit to get accustomed to such speeds.

"How fast are we going?" asked Rainbow Dash, too shook to check out the window again.

"Nothing to worry about, folks!" put in Discord. "Breaking the sound barrier is only a wee startle at first."

Serath remained still in alarmed silence, realizing now what they had encountered: Sombra's magic had overtaken the Crystal Empire, which led him to believe its residents either fled or slept face-first in the pavement, or rather, crystal roads.

Corvo put a palm over his forehead, evident now that his irritability increased with each passing moment. This revelation brought both a dreadful fear and an expected deduction, much like before; he was frozen like a stump, eyes shaking every which way in a wild arrangements of contradicting thoughts, for truly, for his own sake, this deduction was of capital importance. He was expecting it. But it wasn't resolving itself just yet.

"He meant to delay us," he said at length, aimlessly. "That much is obvious. Prepared that deleterious set up at Tall Tale, hoping we rode in for the rescue. It worked, to say the least, unfortunately, that is. By the time we at last took hold of that cursed artifact—the Crystal Heart, that is—he expected us once again to race back here, at the end of all things. We did not think it through, not efficiently, I mean. And now... now... what a world..."

"We came 'round back all fer nothin'!" spat Applejack angrily. She crossed her hooves and fell back, head bowed in shame. "Can't believe he beat us to it."

"We all share you pain, Applejack," said Rarity in an effort for reassurance. The frowns were all clear, unbidden, shared equally in their bewilderment. For now, all the company could hope to do was run, and live for another day, if that day ever came to be. This thought darkened the mood even further.

"Where to now?" inquired Serath bitterly. "There is no place left to go."

"We need to go away first!" said Luna with a terrible bitterness as well. "As far away from here as supposedly possible, and more so after that. We cannot stay here. We must go away."

"Discord," called Celestia with a cold sigh, "keep the train going at this rate, and bring us through the Unicorn Range, further south than initially planned, then above White Tail Woods."

"Odd relocation," remarked Corvo, crossing his arms. "Been a while since I last ventured in that forest. Times change, you can say."

"And then keep our tracks on the line," continued Celestia; "don't stop, not even once." She turned round to face the rest of the passengers, eyeing them with a careful consideration. This responsibility, bewildered in its delivery, inspired her with a powerful and poignant impression, that is, the need to put one's heart down for the greater good, even if it gave everyone present a sense of belonging. Celestia knew this particularly well, and even strangely regretted it, but along these intervals of waiting she had to commit to a steady face and clear mind. Panic would do no good.

"And what then, princess?" said Twilight with quiet power in her voice.

"Then," Celestia drew a breath, thinking hard back to Equestria's geography, "we, if need be—and it looks that way—we'll need to take shelter. I know a place, a safe haven for now. No Everfree monsters prancing in the forest's borders or beneath the tables. Not much left to the imagination: it's abandoned."

"I never suspected this to be true," muttered Corvo with conviction. "Just now we had our feet in the graves; a step further and it would have been ensured. I will take your word on this, Celestia: this safe haven you speak of, that is."

"Wait a minute," interposed Rainbow Dash with anxious haste, "where exactly are we going now? Seriously, how could anything get better when Sombra beat us to the Crystal Empire!"

"I rather wait until safety is definite," said Luna, first looking out the window, then looking upon the rest of the group. "First we should get far away enough where we can keep a steady pace for the locomotive. Then we shall put our heads together, when everything is a bit clearer and calmer."

"I... I agree with Princess Luna," opined Twilight. This present revelation shocked her to such a degree she was having trouble merely arraying her words. She shook her head firmly and sat on the seat. She went on with renewed confidence: "That smoke is still out there, and the Empire's parameters are still visible. We need to at least get through White Tail before deciding on anything else."

"I agree as well," said Celestia with a nod. "This sort of careless necessity to accomplish our goal is what led us to this."

"I would not be so sure," said Corvo, crossing his arms. "We were all very careful. A mild bump in the long road before, but nothing we could not handle."

"Bump in the road?" reproached Celestia, creasing her brow. "You think those violent flames engulfing Vanhoover was a bump in the road?"

"And what about the crazy townsponies!" said Rainbow Dash indignantly.

"That was a pretty big bump if you ask me," said Pinkie Pie, blinking almost painfully.

Corvo heaved a sigh and moved to his own seat. "The point is," he started, "given everything that I know, Sombra would not have enough time or information to both gauge the exact moment we would come back, more or less, as well as setting Vanhoover ablaze and delaying Serath when scouting out the Crystal Heart. Too convenient, if you want my opinion. Unless, as it might go, Sombra is able to manipulate his smoke from afar, even with a locked constant velocity. If that is so, truly, tell me how that is possible."

"That could very well be the case," said Luna, almost reluctantly.

"Whatever it may be, we'll get to the bottom of it later," said Celestia. "Give it some time. We need it."

"But is our time not limited?" put in Serath all of a sudden.

"Markedly limited," said Corvo suddenly.

Celestia moaned long but quietly to herself and, without even noticing it, sat right next to Corvo. "Listen up, everypony!" She caught their immediate attention. "There exists a place in Equestria, hard-leaning towards the west. It's a large expansion of land, completely uninhabited, like I mentioned. It's been a long while since I last paid visage to this location, centuries even, but I know of a hidden house, built on the backs of your ancestors. It's old-fashioned and a little creaky, but there might be useful supplies stored in there. This is the safe haven."

"A... house?" said Twilight confusingly.

"Not even I have ever heard of this supposed house," said Luna with a dubious air. Her eyes, which had something of a mysterious look to them, focused intently on her sister.

Celestia nodded in response. "Yes, an old house. It's long forgotten by practically everypony alive, everypony with the exception being myself. I kept it a secret for any sort of, you can say, unusual measures. There are even a few cold lanterns left, if I remember correctly. It really was quite a long time ago."

"Good to know," said Corvo, yawning, resting his cheek on his palm, "but I am done in."

"Here isn't the best place to rest your eyes," said Luna, looking round her.

Corvo shrugged sluggishly, as though it took tremendous effort. "Not a problem. Noise does not inconvenience my sleep."

"Ah, yes, yes—it does no one any good to think on a weary mind," said Serath with a yawn, throwing out the remark for anyone who would like to catch it. He wandered to the back of the cart, to the very last seat in the corner, fell upon it and threw his arms behind his head.

A black shadow encompassed the whole locomotive. They had now passed under the mountain.

"So... now what?" said Fluttershy quietly, darting her eyes between her friends and the princesses.

"We'll throw our ideas in the air at a later time," responded Celestia. "It's still morning, but I recognize that we were up all night, all of us, and the day before that. For now Discord shall lead us in the path I specified; meanwhile we should all get some rest."

Celestia proceeded to snap down the binds over all the windows, to effectively shut off the sun's light from within the cart. The ponies bore that look in their faces, the sort of countenance which, in the most extreme cases, hint at a final stage, or a near-final stage, of cynical tension, ready to snap at a moment's unusual notice. At the most basic level, they were depressed, and this showed in the slow gaits as each pony found a seat to rest upon. There was little talk, and ever less movement a minute after that.

"Do you feel it..." whispered Corvo rather loudly, to no one in particular; he started wearily, but with that intention one observes when boredom leads to the rude enjoyment of the discomfort of others, if only for a personal observation. "Do any of you feel it?" he went on for a final time in that part of the day, for most of the known journey. "A type of gloomy candor: that product of failure which causes one to be beside themselves with an extraordinary emotion. Our current chapter, as it stands, is, well, it truly is the epitome of gloomy excitement. There is no room for joyful contemplation. Good night. I mean, good day."

* * *

The ride went on quite smoothly and largely interrupted, albeit with brief bumps under the train at certain points, which remained forgotten afterwards. The fellowship slept uneasily; most of them tossed and turned in anxiety, their dreams flashing back to a pale, distorted memory of their first visit to the Crystal Empire, but for the second half of this trip there seemed to be a sense of calmness and satisfied weariness. They at last managed to sleep soundly, the singular sound remaining would be that of the locomotive's engine.

After six or so hours Celestia awoke with a muffled yawn; she then woke up her sister and the two lit their horns to lower the sun and bring forth the moon, if only to ensure a modicum of order. About two hours afterwards the ponies rose up as well, one by one; in between this time Corvo had also gotten up and now sat up straight, inspecting his sword rather patiently. The last to stir from their sleep was Serath. Discord had stayed awake the entire time.

"It's a good thing to see you all bright-eyed and eager now," Discord had called out stiffly, a small smile twisting on his lips. "We ought to arrive at Celestia's preferred destination in less than twenty minutes."

"Man, I'm exhausted!" drawled out Rainbow Dash. She flew up for a moment, stretched her arms, and fell back down to her seat. A mysterious gleam lingered in her eyes, and she glanced towards her friends worryingly. "Hey, did any of you girls have any, er, nightmares?"

They all nodded restlessly in unison, and Rarity added: "Quite so, dear. I dreamt up an awful sight. King Sombra was there, staring straight at me..."

"Are ya serious?" said Applejack, mildly perplexed. "Ah dreamt the same thing." The rest agreed, which only added to their growing and feverish anxiety. In the very first minute they had woken up—less than that, in fact—a fantastical idea overwhelmed their heads, one that suggested everything that had occurred up until this instance was bottled up to a bad dream. However, even within these first few seconds, each and every one of them stood entirely aware of their reality, knew very well what Sombra was currently up to, and yet that behaviour of grasping at straws one may show precisely at the moment one wakes up—this is exactly what the ponies experienced, much to their displeasure.

"Did you dream of anything, princess?" asked Twilight, spotting Celestia and Luna opposite to her.

"Very little actually," said Celestia. "It's all hazy. I remember towering over a sea, and ponies crying below me, about something; maybe this relates to King Sombra, maybe... but it's too ambiguous. I rather not think about it."

"I managed quite an episode of contemplation in my dream, mostly along the lines of what led to the events back in Canterlot, but even so I didn't figure much out," said Luna sharply. "Of course, I always have lucid dreams, but I wished not to disturb any of you."

"What about you, Corvo?" asked Twilight, looking at him intently. "Did you have any dreams?" He turned his head to her and exhaled softly.

"No, I did not," he replied; but every now and then he tried to suppress a trembling in his shoulders.

"So you slept well?"

"Can't complain."

He sheathed his folding sword carefully, as to not cut his fingers, and slipped open the small curtain at the window in front of him. The night sky glowed a bluish shade of black, serene and with myriad white stars. However, he renewed his focus on the outdoor environments in surprise: trees, now gaunt in appearance, were spread far more scarcely; empty fields of grass, some areas shorter than others, swept up into strange hills in the very distance, accumulating up towards rocky cliffs. The ground even seemed to become dirtier and with more gravel. Eventually the train developed a minor sway to it, and a horrible crunching sound, intertwined with its wheels, echoed in their cart. Not a single cloud hovered above their heads.

"Celestia," said Serath suddenly, "did you not mention that we were to set off west of, eh, the city of origin? I have seen a map already; the city in the center, I mean, west from there."

"Canterlot," put in Celestia, listening with consideration.

"Yes, that is it," continued Serath. There was something odd in his wording: he spoke slowly, as though lapsing into an unexpected train of thought. He crossed his arms, cast a glance out the window, and went on: "My concern does not lie necessarily on our chosen direction, in fact, it appears that the west is the only place which leads to areas of arable land; really, King Sombra's black smoke has now consumed the Crystal Empire, which practically ties the noose round our necks. We—cannot turn back now, so what are we to do? The smoke shall not cease in its advancement, at least not any time soon, as far as I can tell. If we halt for as much as a day, the danger would force us to continue our trek. In accordance to your plan, Celestia, are we not aiming to leave Equestria? Apologies if I am mistaken in any way."

"My thoughts exactly," said Corvo. "Sombra certainly meant to smoke us out—literally. This was all done to build a boundary round us, so as to prevent our success. Knowing that, the next step in his plan absolutely must involve getting rid of us, all of us, but especially the two princesses. And what of Cadence and her husband?"

"The Crystal guards were as watchful as ever," said Celestia, looking reassuringly at Twilight, whose ears drooped low at the mention of her brother. "They most definitely managed to escape. To where, that is, where they are right now, we may only know upon cleaning up the smoke."

"If 'cleaning up the smoke' is even a possibility now," remarked Corvo quietly.

Twilight at once snapped a deliberate, unmoving, and most fervent glare at Corvo, ready to throw her voice out in spite of commonalities, but heaved a sigh and shook her head; and said: "Don't say that. You can't know."

Corvo, however, did not deign to reply. But this nonchalant display of character—presumably unintentional on his part, for he had no reason in his mind to offer a cogent response—showed superficially as he turned his head away, slightly but enough to notice, even before Twilight had concluded her sentence.

"What do you really think about this?" Twilight put in again. "I mean, doubting ourselves couldn't possibly serve us in any meaningful way."

"If I may offer my grasp of possible encouragement," said Serath softly, as though thinking better of it, sitting down next to Corvo, "the purpose of a team-up, or a temporary synergy, is to overcome adversity despite our differences. We have done so splendidly, in my opinion."

"I certainly agree," Luna caught up; warmth shone on her face. "Look at us, just look, if you can. Our situation may be in complete shambles, but that shall not stop us from uniting together and face the darkness; reciting words of cynicism is nothing but frivolous slop. Of course we'll make it in the end. This isn't the first threat to face Equestria, after all."

"So it is," said Serath, happy, as it were, to see such a kind being in Luna. His lips flashed into a pale, thin smile, and however weighed down he was at the moment by his own grief, his eyes involuntarily rested on her with attention. "There is no pride to be found in cynicism."

There struck in Corvo a great and powerful, and vexatious, sudden surge of skepticism, the sort of doubt which grapples onto your heart and refuses to let go until you've solved the matter. Whether this was a product of sheer instinct, he did not know. He gave Luna a piercing and menacing gaze, rolling over in his mind what to respond with; but whenever he had an idea, a half-finished conclusion took its place, like he was inconceivably eager to finish a puzzle. But this all burned away quickly. He dropped his eyes, as though he were alone, and a static terror ran up in his veins; hot blood rushed to his face and brought fire to his cheeks.

"I... quite disagree," he said abruptly, pale, his face twisted into a painful smile. A cruel line flashed in his smile, too, which arose discomfort for some. And having said that, he himself looked frightened, although this was disguised with caustic levity. Only Celestia, and maybe Serath, took notice of this shift in behaviour.

"Okay, now you're just being depressing," deadpanned Rainbow Dash. And then addressing her friends: "Come on, guys, I'm sure something can lighten the mood 'till we get there."

"Ooh, I know," said Spike hopingly, grinning at them all, "how about we tell each other riddles again? It'll be just like yesterday."

"Hold on just a moment," said Luna calmly, smiling familiarly at Corvo, and then she added demurely, yet with infinite composure and indirect projection: "I would very much like to know why Corvo disagrees with his friend. 'There is no pride to be found in cynicism'—a wonderful saying, and practically useful to live by. Many will catch on to it. But you don't think it's frivolous, do you?"

"If I may add an ending to what I mentioned," said Serath, quick to get his voice out, glancing over to Corvo, "I am in mere disapproval of cynicism, and the idea of cynical pride. Whatever 'frivolous slop' is supposed to be is entirely between you two." He leaned back in his seat.

Luna looked at Corvo with an air of candor, but remained silent. This openness Corvo received from her: it seemed so reasonable and yet so infuriating to him—he at last realized that there was the most intense curiosity in him, which would not be satisfied until he conversed with Luna. In such a case, he began to notice the supposed terror in his veins, and while right before he managed to ignore it, now he sensed the sensation intensified when heeding Luna's words of polite encouragement. Something was off, something mysterious, and it lingered in the air, utterly intangible and mockingly. Corvo never truly disliked Luna before, but right now, with the company in the train, right about ready to reach Celestia's desired destination, there was no one else Corvo hated more than Luna.

It was almost like he had to restrain himself from saying anything too damaging, too impulsive, but this particular need for restraint is what, in a sense, put him in a bind.

"Why are you surprised at me?" said Corvo severely. "I am only weighing our anchors for the unseen future, which means one must assume the worst."

"Yes, but we must have a mutual trust, otherwise things would never settle," said Luna. "Don't you agree?"

"Certainly not near you," said Corvo, passing from humility to rudeness.

Serath stared in both amazement and rigid concern. The ponies were just as taken aback, but lapsed into irritation and were about to talk back to Corvo when Celestia had her say: "Leave any debates of personal interest for later, once we actually manage to defeat King Sombra, and only then."

"Corvo dear," said Rarity at length, raising a concerned eyebrow, "what could have possibly gotten you so bad-humored? Was it the train? We all felt those dreadful bumps, I assure you."

"Yes," replied Corvo stiffly, inclining his head, "it was the bumps." It seemed like he gave a start, but at the same time he was evidently unruffled. "They continue, even now. This much gravel over the tracks—that is not ordinary. I think the locomotive was never meant to go this far."

"You're right," said Celestia. "We're nearing the western border of Equestria, and it's long been desolate. Ponies have ceased to fixing these tracks many years ago."

"I noticed that too, princess," said Twilight as she eyed the forlorn field through the small window. She turned round and, while not quite in a sad mood, she was by no means untroubled anymore. "Not even I've ever been to this place."

"It should also buy us a half a day extra, maybe a full one if we're lucky," said Celestia; her voice carried that edge of uncertainty, however hopeful it sounded in the beginning.

"Dear oh dear," began Serath in a contrived whisper, leaning to the side, "do any of you reckon that, possibly, Sombra might know of this abandoned house Celestia aims to take us, if by chance, perhaps? It would... be unfortunate for us."

"No," Luna put out firmly before the rest even had a second to fully absorb Serath's suggestion. "Not even I knew of this location, and I'm very articulate in how I garner knowledge. There's not many things my sister knows that I remain on the other side of the curtain on. King Sombra isn't omniscient."

"That makes sense, I guess" said Serath quietly, leaning his chin on an elbow. He stared out his window after drawing up the blind and frowned. He remained uneasy, though this the ponies understood, even sympathetically precisely because of his limited view of Equestria.

"Perhaps we'd be in the best state of mind upon arrival," said Discord, walking by the aisle. "Speaking of which, get packing!" he ended as soon as the train sluggishly slowed to a halt.

* * *

Just as Corvo imagined, this anticipated abandoned house stood far from where they got off, right at the outskirts of a foreign forest quite too off the path to be considered wholly Equestrian. It was hideously decrepit, but had a spacious appearance: one-storied, three rooms separated by thick wooden walls—the primary room took up half the available space, and the other two rooms each took a fourth—there was no paint to be found anywhere, and the roof was seemingly bent downwards, yet incredibly sturdy. In one of the smaller and more empty rooms was a ladder that led downwards to a narrow basement lined with shelves, most of which had collapsed with age. It remained dark there, too, and this basement held a number of ancient books, all of them unopened for thousands of years.

All in all, no one was particularly happy to be paying a visit to such a broken-off structure; the house was old, gloomy, and a tad spacious; still, they were nevertheless glad to have someplace to lie down. And when they managed to swing forth the loose front door and wander inside, the place was surprisingly clean; noticeably messy, but not a complete dump either.

Seizing the moment, the six ponies all sat together, side-by-side, on a wide mahogany couch. Corvo took notice of the dull logs within the hearth and watched as Celestia immediately set it ablaze; and in the next minute he surveyed the adjacent rooms, much to his disappointment, except for the ladder. Eventually the amber glow caught on, and soon everyone found a spot to settle down.

"Very little dirt here," remarked Corvo.

"Perhaps the wind does the work," said Serath.

"The weather is largely controlled by us ponies," said Celestia. "If you noticed, the sky is completely clear. No precipitation either, though the air is anything but dry. Well, this is as far as we'll get for the next twelve hours, give or take..."

"I for one find this awfully boring!" proclaimed Discord, his voice filled with caustic despair. "Are we seriously supposed to sit here the whole night? All of it? Plus the following morning? King Sombra is the last pony to give us a break."

"It's sure gonna be a long night, everypony," said Twilight, aimlessly gazing upwards to the ceiling.

"Excuse my temporary absence. Talk about whatever you want, I will be over there," said Corvo, rising to his feet and striding towards the smaller room with two short chairs, the one with the ladder below. The opposite room was utterly empty and even gutted, however. There stood out a remarkable distinctness in his voice, assuring rather obviously that he needed a smaller space to think, or at least be distracted.

Something as of yet lingered on his mind, and it was almost like Corvo had forgotten about the ponies, left them to the background, as it were, leaving off some growing detachment. Of course, this attitude shouldn't be made a top concern, it really was just the need for some alone time, and yet this 'something' is what carried the most weight, like a mental anchor on Corvo. Regardless, his temporary absence was just that: temporary negligence. He left it as such.

"How about I join you?" put in Serath almost mechanically. There were careful notes in his voice as well. "I might need something to talk about, if you get me."

Corvo shrugged at first, as though he were indifferent, but when he got to the room and nearly threw himself on the chair, with Serath doing the same, a transformation took hold of the air then, making both men anxious to start a conversation, which they did at once.

At the same time, Celestia and Luna had decided to leave the ponies to it and discuss matters in the other room.

With the exception of Discord starting up some chatter with the ponies and annoying them every once in a while, not much worthwhile happened until midnight, or somewhere round that time.

* * *

It was only after a number of hours subsequent to their arrival when Twilight had grown awkwardly impatient with the nontransparent quietness of the entire setting. She was weaving into a sensible state of worry, reasonable as it was, to the point where she gradually stopped responding to her friends altogether and let them finish up their chatter. Celestia and Luna had come back to stay in the primary room for the vast majority of their stay, but a little after midnight the two sisters were back in the empty room again. It was in the best interest of planning, Twilight assumed, to see what the others were up to.

The door separating her from Corvo and Serath was only two-thirds of the way closed, so she gently pushed it forward and peeked inside, hopeful curiosity highlighting her face. Judging by the rapidness of their exchanges and the calm approach both took in engaging each other, it was self-evident that they had been conversing for some time now; but then again, thought Twilight, it had been at least five hours, and no one could possibly speak so excitedly for five hours—again, at least. She wondered momentarily and thoughtfully if every few scenes they would lapse into silence, as to recollect themselves, and continue onward in half-whispers.

Serath showed physical signs that he noticed her. When Twilight had stuck her head in the room he flashed a glance to the side, interrupted only for an instance, and then looked back to his friend. She decided to pay attention first and foremost.

"The whole point of my article was to demonstrate the irresoluteness of modern philosophers," went on Serath. "This very notion that lawlessness comes from the conduct of mankind's negotiations—I fail to see it. Quite possibly since the dawn of scientific revolution (about two or three hundred years ago, I would say) there has been a valley cut into the system of direct morals used to unite us, to keep us safe from one another and build together a cohesive story known as contemporary history, and this has been subjected to intense scrutiny from some scientists, but more broadly from philosophers. You know: the ones whom our students love to quote and read about—Moore, Sokolov, Galvani, er... you know... it has been some effective critique, and the onslaught is nothing to laugh about, but I defend traditional moral boundaries on the argument that they encourage reconciliation with the sciences."

"The issue I notice is your grouping together of what is an objective fact and what is useful," said Corvo with pedantic composure. "Take, for instance, a scenario where a tricky little orphan, a helpless creature of ten really, manages to steal a large hunk of bread and afterwards gets reported, and chased off by the local guards. He then comes by your house, timidly knocks on your door, and asks—first asks, that is—for your forgiveness, and then, with that wicked little expression, begs to be 'hid under the carpet', mere moments before the guards turn up round the corner. It is useful in the universal sense to give up the orphan to the authorities, because then you would avoid the risk of getting stapled on the law's blacklist and might even receive a reward. If, however, you choose to conceal such a thief, what will you get from it? Risk your good reputation, get a husky 'thank you' from the child and never see him again? Sorry, I seem to be rambling on again, but—let's back up—and here is what I mean: moral truth centers on what we agree upon. The universe is indifferent, it does not care about human affairs, and why would it? If something is useful, it will be useful, depending on context (again, context can change a whole lot), if something is the truth, it is the truth."

"That does not tell me how to act. We live on the fumes of spiritual morals—I say 'spiritual' very loosely—because science did not exist three hundred, four hundred years ago, so the purpose of a civilized society was to negotiate despite our differences and in place of objective morals, because a consensus of morality is what defines us, I would argue. People are messy and complicated and emotional and, worst of all, irrational. You would agree that people are intrinsically irrational, you have stated it before."

"I agree that you cannot uphold moral goodness within a vacuum, and I especially agree that moral presuppositions are not a product of rationality, but upon that notion it is most beneficial to us, as a society, to experiment in the field of nature and truth. In fact, committing yourself to 'immoral' acts will only delay mankind's progress. And you may question: what could we possibly garner from social evolution? A better life, a better world, a reason to care. We have all negotiated already, and it is decided—it is in the best interest of us all to focus on advancement of culture and ditch the violent ways of living. We know very clearly how to act."

"And who is to say that I should care about mankind's mark on the world? If there is no spiritual unifying force, we cannot live prosperously, because there is no certainty. It is like learning about absolute figures in physics: there is always the fog ahead of the numbers, because nothing is ever as accurate as it could be, not in practice. The presupposition that there is value to living by mere virtue of existing is highly functional and the reason we are alive today; it is not a scientific presupposition as you claim, as this way of thinking dates back thousands of years ago. There is material truth, but genuine truth is in how we ought to act. But... no matter... I, uh, believe Twilight wants a word with us."

At the mention of her name Twilight gave a great start, as though she touched an open wound. She had been very interested in what they were discussing, even if several of their references went over her head. Still, she looked at both of them with consideration and sighed.

"Sorry to interrupt either of you," she hurried up with a small smile. "Just wanted to see what you guys were up to."

“I doubt it would interest you,” said Corvo dismissively; but he then looked upon Twilight like something new of value had become clear to him. “Or perhaps it could. Serath and I—we are debating the necessity of objective morality.”

“Hmm, objective ethics…” continued Twilight wonderingly. “Wait, you two are debating morals, as in, what's right and wrong? How does that work?”

“By... talking about it,” suggested Serath, shrugging, noticing the perplexed countenance which described the alicorn. “Is something the matter?”

“Well, nevermind,” bemused Corvo, at the same time extremely satisfied with himself. “The topic certainly does invoke some confusion. Serath, these ponies—they are a mindful lot, mindful but oblivious.”

“Hey, what do you mean by ‘oblivious’?” demanded Twilight, taking offence at once. “I’m just asking.”

“Yes, but you are terribly out of it on the topic of controversy,” said Corvo again, curtly. “That is to say, Equestria must not deal with any personal controversy, at least not as far as I can tell. Your princesses, Celestia and Luna, it is rather apparent that everyone loves a dual-monarchy, of sorts at least (called a diarchy if I remember correctly). I have never read of any attempts at a revolution, it is not required. There are no high-end political disagreements present in this land. Must get very dull.”

“Maybe they discuss magic and monsters,” put in Serath. “There are quite a number of supernatural elements to this country. It looks to be leagues more entertaining than what we are obliged to deal with back at home, eh?”

“Hmm, whatever it is…” Corvo rose from his chair, stretching his back quickly. He pushed open the door all the way and cast a glance over the primary room. The other ponies were present, each expressing solemn weariness, yet none were asleep; Discord stood in the corner, quite bored out of his wits. “It was getting stuffy in here regardless. I feel out of it myself.”

“Eh, fine as it stands. We have all the time in the world to leave off the conversation for later,” said Serath, somehow shuddering.

“But what exactly were you two talking about?” asked Twilight, rubbing a hoof under her chin. “It’s been hours.”

As the three of them strode over to the center of the room, right in front of the fire, Corvo went on to explain the gist of it, although there caught on notes of disinterest in his voice; his talk with Serath indeed accomplished in putting some ease to his senses, but he now intended to lie down somewhere else. He really did sum it up quickly and vaguely, as so: “We gossiped a tad, as every nineteenth century contrarian loves to do, mostly concerning the current week’s newspapers. Then it was about Equestria and what I could recollect from my second visit—Serath had me at a plethora of questions. At a certain point I wanted to climb down the ladder and search the basement, but it is far too dark (which reminds me, I need a light source for later). Then we decided to move onto the topic of scientific developments, which led to the debate about morals, of which we were forty minutes into before you walked in. That is all, I think, all in all.”

Somehow they all managed to fit onto the couch, with the exception of Serath who volunteered to sit on the floor opposite to them. The ponies didn't seem to mind this sudden appearance in the slightest.

“There really ain’t much to do ‘round here,” remarked Applejack, frowning.

“How about we play a game?” said Serath, grinning affably, but in a respectable voice.

“A game?” said Rarity, inspecting Serath with consideration. “Whatever could you have in store for us, darling?”

“Finally!” drawled out Pinkie Pie in comical despair, her face nearly sweating. “I’ve been playing tic-tac-toe against Applejack for the past four hours!”

“Yeah, and ya kept winning!” reproached Applejack, much to her annoyance.

“Hold up,” said Rainbow Dash loudly, “I also wanna know what Serath’s idea of a game is.”

“Oh, I will show you a game alright,” said Serath in his best attempt to sound menacing, surveying everyone in the room dubiously. “It is an ancient game, a game of powerful secrets and intense adversity, one that demands the height of your attention and requires monumental spirit. On a complete psychological level, most do not survive, for many are incapable of holding onto such a responsibility. This ‘game’, as you and I put it, is the dividing line between friendship and enemies, night and day, good and evil—the ultimate challenge!”

“Well, come on, spit it out already!” said Rainbow Dash, failing to notice her wings had started to flap excitedly, and she hovered in the air.

“Yeah, tell us!” cried Pinkie Pie, grinning wildly.

“The game is called Challenges and Commands!”

Dubious confusion arose at once, and soon after it died down like a deflating balloon. The ponies all stared to one another, deciding on what Serath had meant, and at last Fluttershy said: “You mean Truth or Dare?”

“Truth or Dare?” repeated Serath, giving the ponies a long look. “Eh, yes, those synonyms do convey a similar meaning.”

Agitated groans of disappointment fumed from the ponies, which only resulted in Serath shooting worried looks back and forth.

“Ah, no, it really is quite fun!” he assured.

“Yeah, we’ve played it before,” said Rainbow Dash flatly. “Dozens of times, in fact.”

“Correct me if needed, but Challenges and Commands—Truth or Dare—is always worth playing with new members, for it offers a different experience,” said Corvo, smirking beneath the shadow on his face. “Why not a couple of rounds?”

"Oh, I'll start!" announced Spike, raising his arm. The others nodded, some more gladly than others, and he went on: "Okay, so, er, Serath—truth or dare?"

"I choose truth."

"What's the most embarrassing thing you've ever had to experience?"

"Come on, Spike," groaned Twilight, quite disliking Spike's question from the get-go. "You're gonna start with that?"

"Ha, ha, it is quite alright!" laughed Serath slowly, rubbing his hand over his head. His hand then drooped low, palm over his face, accompanied by a sigh, and then his shoulders sunk. "It was during my first year in the Medical Academy. Back then—the format has changed by now—but back then I was required to perform an ocular analysis on a patient. I was under careful watch, naturally, being examined down to the most insignificant detail, as to confirm whether or not I could continue with my studies. The thing of capital importance to keep in mind is to use direct wording, never stutter, speak fluently; the fate of your patient is often in your grasp, you know. After tedious consideration, at the end of my analysis, I told my patient: 'Your eyes are pretty', I paused, to which she responded: 'Why, thank you', but then I gazed at her with the utmost confusion, wondering why exactly she would thank me. My supervisors glanced at me with disapproval, to my horror, and began to write down on their papers. At once my own eyes widened, and I babbled to her: 'Damaged!' She was taken aback and even tilted her head, to which I claimed again: 'Your eyes are pretty damaged.' I managed to succeed in their opinion, as you see me now, but barely."

"Ha, ha! Excellent!" laughed Corvo with a sort of derisive expression, but with enough momentary politeness as to not invoke a rebuttal.

"I really hope your patient is alright," said Fluttershy hesitantly. She moved her own pupils round and became dizzy. "I've never had my eyes hurt."

"That must've been a nightmare!" declared Twilight, nearly in a stupor. "Last thing I'd want to do is disappoint my supervisors."

"Can you do an analysis on me next!" Pinkie suggested, though unsure of what she was really asking for.

"Okay, okay, my turn," said Serath quickly. "Rarity, truth or dare?"

"I shall choose truth. Rather not get my hooves dirty."

"Very well. What is the most expensive thing you own?"

"Oh my, where to begin! When I was in collaboration with Fancy Pants (a very wealthy friend of mine, Serath) back in Canterlot to design the perfect wedding dress for a cousin of his, what we produced was absolutely divine! You see, it was extraordinarily high demand at the time, and Fancy Pants offered me all the funding I needed, from his own account, plus several donations from certain admirers. Needless to say, I gave it my all—went all out—and the finished product was a lavender-and-gold diamond gown, one hundred-fifty carats, and the finest fabrics of Equestria. They were so impressed with my work—and a little irritated with how much money I used up—they decided to have me keep the dress after the wedding, by request of the cousin.

"But that was the most 'expensive' item in my possession. As for what is the most priceless"— she spread out her fore-hooves and wrapped them round her friends, practically beaming —"I have five of them right here."

"Aw!" the ponies echoed in unison, returning the affection, followed by "I love you girls!" from Pinkie Pie.

"A remarkable bond you all share, I trust," said Serath, lifting his eyebrows.

"And how about you and Corvo?" asked Fluttershy curiously, now with a smile on her face. "What's your bond like?"

"Leveled," said Corvo instantly. He scratched his chin, leaned over on his side, and smirked cordially. "What else could you ask for?"

"Quite so," said Rarity. "Now then," she shot a penetrating glance at Rainbow Dash and smirked sharply, "Rainbow, truth or dare?"

"Dare!" she demanded in a low voice, crossing her arms and falling back onto the couch.

* * *

The group went on like this for another fifty minutes, either daring or asking the most 'daring' questions—it was truth most of the time—and every now and again there would be short breaks to add in jokes, laugh, or roll their eyes in amazement. They were all generally absorbed in the amusement, they even had forgotten about Sombra. When it had reached Corvo the first time, Rainbow Dash dared him to toss his sword in the air and catch it by its razor; most were extremely reluctant to watch when he proceeded, but after accomplishing the feat with relative ease Spike even applauded. Finally the turn fell onto Corvo again, asked by Twilight: "Truth or dare?"

"This time I shall go with truth," he replied.

"I was really hoping to clear this up: what's your opinion on Princess Luna, really? You acted very strangely back in the train, even by your standards." She observed him attentively. "There's a reason for everything, isn't there?"

"Naturally," muttered Corvo. His grim eyes stuck out most of all, like grey candles in the dark. He began to tap a finger on his knee and, as though it took effort, he pulled forth what he had thought in the past; but then the potential power in his voice dwindled, and he shook his head. "She is a capable pony, evidently talented, just like her sister, although what she does is none of my business. I leave it as such."

"Ah'm not too sure," said Applejack suddenly. "Reckon King Sombra is getting a might under yer skin. No need to fret; he's been tormentin' all of us."

"It was never about that," said Corvo, but he stopped, as though remembering something of critical importance.

Serath was staring at Corvo with his head bowed, as though in secret, with tremendous sincerity and a recollection of their conversation in the train. He trusted Corvo; Serath was never once deceived by him and, quite the contrary, Corvo had always managed with subtle gaiety to aid him and his family whenever the moment called for convenience. In that respect, as reasonably as possible, Serath took Corvo's intuition to heart, both from a kind of brotherly loyalty and the fact that Corvo was almost never wrong, and at those rare instances he'd immediately apologize.

With all that said, he truly did recognize a psychological change in Corvo ever since the magic mirror had captured them both at the same time. Alterations in habits are surprisingly common, as Arbmos once told him, but this was different: there was no slope to it, no system—it was like Corvo had merely been hiding something from all of them, or from him.

Now then, we all know quite well that Serath is the only one here who remains in the dark about Corvo's work as the Wandering Stranger, or at the very least, his metal mask. Still, I think it's essential to note the essentials: he had been wary of this possibility ever since he met Corvo, all the way back in the burnt down library; but just like how flash paper vaporizes almost instantaneously when contacted with fire, these 'paranoid' contemplations—they are more needless, not paranoia—would disappear almost as quickly as he took the time to entertain them. In any case, essentially, he was terribly interested in what Corvo had to say.

"Fine then, I'll ask something else," concluded Twilight with a coldly ambitious tone, quite unlike her devilish smirk: "I really am curious in listening to what you—you out of all individuals—has to say on this question: do you believe your moral center was rightfully balanced when conducting the assassination of Princess Celestia and Princess Luna two years ago?"

"Twilight!" Rarity all but shouted. "Wherever did you decide to bring up such provocation in decent company? My, one simply does not do that."

Twilight heaved an annoyed sigh and slumped wearily in her part of the couch. "Well, I heard Corvo and Serath talking about this kind of stuff, and I, you know, I need to know," she concluded defiantly, and then at once rising to full posture. "Serath here already knows about your schemes, and back then, you went with it, all the way to the end. We all know it was wrong of you, but my goal here is to determine if you understand that. Do you, Corvo?"

"Twilight did ask the question, Rarity," said Rainbow Dash passively, but with a calculated gleam in her eye, as if she were anticipating Corvo's response.

The rest of them, including Serath, remained at the ready, silent, that is.

"You want affirmation?" inquired Corvo at length.

"I want the truth," said Twilight in reproach, her lips twitching with vexation. "Please."

"Twilight, I understand your demand. As a detective myself who has been forced to play against these arbitrary rules on an existential level, believe me, you have the right to know whether or not I felt justified in wishing to end the lives of your princesses, and I say 'you' have the right, not your other friends here. I am certain, Twilight, that your interpersonal experience with Celestia constructs the habits with which you use to navigate your life, she is the center of your principles, as it were. I understand that perfectly well, and as someone of imperfect pride, to which only the truths of motivation matter, I would ask the exact same question should I be in your position, not the others, but only you, because it would appear that, considering your princess status, you demand the answer, and your demand at the moment is immeasurably more complex than what could be plausibly described precisely in view of your relationship with Celestia, and maybe even Luna. With all that said: I refuse to tell you."

"What!" Twilight almost gasped, nearly beside herself in an unexpected whiplash of anger. "Why not?"

"What good would it do? The fact of the matter is that you will never know; that's just how it is," Corvo went on with extraordinary determination.

"Do I need to remind you that we're playing Truth or Dare," seethed Twilight, her eyes burning with insistence. "You have to answer the question. Like you said: it's my right to know."

"Yes, I said that. But I now see, with such a heavily stumbled question, it will bring us only an irrelevant disdain. If I reply with: 'Yes, horror struck me at every waking moment', you will proceed to interrogate me with a million different trifles and details; and if I say: 'No, they deserved to meet their end,' well, I can only imagine the fiery derision of which you shall bring down upon me, for the rest of my stay here, which will turn to non-productiveness. In light of this minor revelation, I will not tell you, because you will not let me go on my word, it is impossible!"

"He most likely won't tell me then," remarked Serath gloomily, "because I would tell you if you asked me," he turned to Twilight almost with pity.

"Yeah, fine," scoffed Twilight disappointingly. "I'm willing to bet you felt bad all along, and you're having a pretty difficult time coming to terms with it, or to even admit it. Princess Celestia herself recognized your intelligence. That accounts for something good."

"Eh? What is that supposed to mean?" said Corvo with greedy, almost hysterical, curiosity. He at once lost any trace of reserve and even asked the question with a sort of imperiousness.

"Princess Celestia is the wisest and most knowledgeable ruler in the entire world," Twilight practically recited as though it were an obvious fact, "and she's done an incredible job at it, everypony loves her. Going off of that, if she herself admits to your intellect, and you both are fighting the same fight side-by-side, you must have some decency in you, the least bit of empathy."

Corvo stared at her with confused, guarding eyes, but immediately laughed softly to himself and a tremble seized him. "No, no, that is not it," he said. "I must have decency because you acknowledge my academic worth?"

"It's quite true actually," put in Rarity, inclining her head to Twilight. "The backbone of Equestria is built upon the wisdom of Princess Celestia, Luna, Cadence, Shining Armor, and now Twilight as the Princess of Friendship, all of whom know more than your average pony, and all of whom act in the best interest of Equestria."

"Our leaders gotta know what they're doing after all," said Pinkie Pie, shrugging.

"This is nothing but tortured logic," Corvo broke off suddenly. "There is no connection whatsoever between one's degree of intelligence and their capacity for kindness. The two are entirely different. Take a look at Sombra if you seek a counter-example."

"You can't compare King Sombra," said Twilight briskly, as though not observing Corvo's excitement. "He's a dark force who's been at Princess Celestia's throat for over a thousand years. If every single pony native to Equestria were as gifted as you or Serath or the princesses—"

"I am flattered by your inclusion of me," said Serath.

"Of course, Serath, but I mean it," said Twilight, taking a second to happily acknowledge him, but then continued firmly: "The point is: the more we discover and learn, the more we can help Equestria, it's a definite correlation. I really wasn't looking forward to praising you or anything"— and, giving Corvo a piercing, even sad, look, she concluded —"you did it out of love for your own world, which is something."

"Love does not necessarily mean a positive concept. Love is merely an intense affection for a particular thing," said Corvo quickly.

"But my point still stands."

The ponies and Spike generally stood on agreement, if only out of bias due to it being Twilight saying these things. And Serath himself listened intently, understanding in full Corvo's position on the matter.

"Nothing but sheer falsehood, that's what," said Corvo after a long pause, dropping his head affectedly, at first only, and when he looked up again his grey eyes flashed an askance gleam. "Yes, I disagree. I absolutely cannot understand the notion that intellectuals are characterized by intrinsic moral superiority: 'he is intelligent, therefore he must leap to the defense of what is right'—there is no evidence for that. Smartness (I say 'smartness' very crudely) and moral wisdom are not the same thing; and your empirical evidence is severely flawed in every possible manner. It is the corrupt and smart ones by your side who are the most treacherous... that is my confession, if you can even call it a confession. Evil's subtlest semblance is not with the ugly, but the beautiful and hopeful. And as an intelligent yet corrupt individual: you're twenty serpents instead of two. Ah," his eyes lit up suddenly, "let me lay down a small story, a rather absurd little anecdote, but genuine nonetheless, and I will be brief.

"One time I had to interrogate an old widow relating to the unexpected murder of an aristocratic general. She had been an eye-witness the night of the crime, had claimed to have seen the crime from a rooftop about four blocks down. I shall get to the conclusion of the murder, but first let me tell you: this lady was completely bedraggled. She looked to have been living straight in the dumps her whole life, wearing messy clothes, a crazed look of sorrow; she was so shy that she could not even approach you normally; she shielded her eyes from me as though I were as luminous as the sun itself; and on the street she did that to everyone, bent down, dragging round a wooden cane sometimes, humbled over like a peasant brought before a king. The sight was utterly pathetic to most, and, you know, I'm no psychologist, but my take of it was that she seemed to almost be in a state of quiet delirium most of the time, or all of the time. When I spoke with this women one thing became apparent: she was not bright, not in the least. I think she only had a child's level of education. This old woman was quite intellectually impaired. She lived with her schizophrenic sister, who happened to be in a fever at the time, and a drunkard fiancé who was quite fond of brewed Spirit and beat her every week to a pulp. My witness lived in absolute hell. And what could she do? The woman was dull in the head! But she had this dog, my witness, that is. She used to walk the dog all the time, about twice a day even. I later learned that she went to a behavioural therapy clinic—a clinic well-known in Dunwall, my city—but not just to deal with her own issues which tormented her; but partly she would venture to a Dunwall mental ward, and she had been a patient at that hospital for who knows how long. She went on to meet these long-term psychiatric clients, and damn, those lot looked to be the lunatics straight out of a horror novel. These folk were... I mean, they were far too deep in the abyss, far worse off than a mere fever. These clients about which I had learned were seriously destroyed on a most psychological level. Naturally they could not be let back out onto the streets during the institutionalization, they were life-chained in there. And the woman decided that the reason she had wanted to venture into this hospital—of all places, mind you—was because she herself had been institutionalized there, which brought altogether a feeling of familiarity; and as such, if she could take her dog out for a walk, she wished to take out one of the inmates and have him go on a walk with her, too. What else may I say about her? Stupid as a post... utterly daft... just disturbed in a dozen different directions. There was nothing she could hold on to, nothing going her way, no ambitions, sacked with prejudice from everyone else. And yet she had the damned moral capacity to decide that there was someone else worse off than her, and take my word for it, that was not easy to find. Maybe she could have done them some good if the ward had let her—which they did not."

He, at last, lapsed into an abrupt silence, and blinked hard at the rest of the ponies.

"Maybe I understand where you're coming from, but—er, I don't know," said Twilight uneasily. "And what about the conclusion to your story?"

"We found the killer's dead body washed up on shore."

Wait, I recognize this story: the 'Self-Loathing Poseidon', the case was dubbed. Why is Corvo not bringing up the Wandering Stranger, if he is the one who likely ended the murderer's life? thought Serath. Hmm, well, I suppose it is for the best, it would only usher forth a whole new echelon of fear.

Corvo was going to say something else, but the scene came to a sudden halt as a particular individual they had seemingly forgotten about made himself known, almost mechanically even.

"My dear friends, you're still here!" announced Discord from behind them. They all turned their heads and saw the door leading to the room with the ladder slam open; Discord wandered in casually. He wore small reading glasses and stroked his white beard with a paw.

"I didn't even notice that you were gone, Discord," said Fluttershy in surprise.

"Yes, yes, don't mind me," Discord shot out. He switched his eyes from the ponies, Corvo, and the room he came from. "You see, Corvo, I overheard your little comment about the basement, how it's too dark down there and whatnot. I decided to check it out, and suffice to say"— he stuck his tongue out in disgust, swung round on a single leg and collapsed on the ground —"boring! Nothing there but old books weighing more than Celestia's morning desserts, and worst of all: it's completely unreadable! That settles it: I, Discord the magnificent Lord of Chaos, shall meet his end." He threw his arms in the air and shouted indignantly: "Curse you Monday mornings!"

"Did you place some torches below?" inquired Serath.

"With a snap of my claw," said Discord, smiling crookedly.

"Well, this is my cue to get up and weave to it!" said Corvo. He jumped up and nearly jogged over to the smaller room. Serath was correct: there were newly-placed torches along the wooden beams, identical to the ones in Canterlot. "You see, I have been meaning to read what is down there."

"Didn't you just hear me?" said Discord frantically, staring at Corvo intently but somehow solemnly. "Those books may as well contain impossible-to-decipher gibberish."

"My cup of tea, practically," reproached Corvo, almost trembling. He only now realized just how cold he was, and quickly buttoned up his greatcoat.

"Well then, this might prove to be interesting after all," said Discord. "Perhaps I may, ahem, accompany you?"

"Do what you'd like," said Corvo, gesturing with his arm. "Serath, what about you?"

"Inform me of any specificities," said Serath. "For now I think I will stay here."

"Wait!" called Pinkie readily. "We weren't done with the game. It's your turn, remember!"

"Oh, uh, Applejack," began Corvo, already halfway through the ladder, "truth or dare?"

"Dare, Ah 'spose," confirmed Applejack, quite uncertain given their distance.

"I dare you to recount the history of the apple farm, in as much detail as feasibly possible, from start to finish." And he sunk down into the narrow and dreary basement, followed closely by Discord. The last thing he heard were the intense groans of agitation from the other ponies, Applejack chuckling, Serath saying: "Make sure to include the events before the farm's inception—I would love to know as much as possible," and Rainbow Dash crying: "No, don't do this to us!"

* * *

During this particular juncture I'll assume you must be at the edge of your seat to learn what Celestia and Luna were discussing. Or, perhaps, if you're not "at the edge of your seat" then, barring my inadequacy as narrator, I hope to shed some light here in greater fashion, beyond convention and what have you.

The small room they took hold in was, as previously mentioned, completely empty, with not even a window for style or practicality. Yet it was quiet and muffled most of the neighboring voices. There was a hefty sum of information the sisters needed to slice through, as these things go, of which I shall recount below.

A handful of minutes past midnight they walked back into the room, silent as stones at first, and at last Celestia began: "Corvo was acting very strangely back in the train, mostly towards you. I'm wondering why exactly."

"Normally I'd chalk this up to stress, but perhaps what goes on in his head is a different breed of hostility," said Luna as though with contempt, but this was not the case. "I get the impression that he holds very coherent and deliberately directed thoughts, but they sway mere inches from his understanding."

"Whatever the reason, he did inform me of something I think you'd wish to hear."

"Oh?"

Celestia held a hard stare at Luna, like something of extensive bitterness swept through her mind. "He thinks you might be working with King Sombra, that you're helping him spread this destructive smoke across Equestria."

"Are you serious?" exclaimed Luna in reproach, giving her sister an inquisitive look. "Does he truly doubt my resistance to mind control?"

"I believe he does," sighed Celestia with frivolity. "I didn't believe him, I would have caught on to mind control, but more importantly, if King Sombra is capable of influencing you with his dark magic—I'd imagine back in the illusion, when Corvo showed up—I'm just as susceptible. Even so, I do wonder what you'd do if you were under King Sombra's command."

"Whatever he tells me to do," said Luna, a certain look of caustic indignation flashing on her face; it was quite a different look from the one she had when she entered the room mere moments ago. "But to be frank, does he expect me to prattle? I'm not entirely surprised, Tia, with Corvo's speculation, given the nature of his visit two years back. I do, however, admit that he might be on to something."

"On to something, you say?" repeated Celestia abruptly, nearing a degree of solemn perplexity.

"Don't worry about me, Tia," put in Luna with a fleeting laugh. "Betraying my friends and, most important, my beloved sister—that does not hold a special spot on my schedule. I very much rather not go back to such a time. Still, Corvo's supposition of me helping King Sombra isn't entirely unfounded. He's on to something alright, just misguided." And right away an expression of rigorous annoyance burned into her dark eyes. "Ah, what a waste of time!"

"Indeed it is," observed Celestia. "But maybe you could elaborate on what you mean by his supposition. I suspect Corvo is letting King Sombra get under his skin. He managed to converse with him back in Vanhoover, by the way, but I can't possibly gauge the accuracy of Corvo's retelling of what they talked about is. King Sombra's words are like a poison: he'll get you to believe in something that will, in the long run, consume your sanity."

"Yes, yes, I get your meaning. Now then... you see," she bit her lip almost with timidity, "I do believe that King Sombra is greater than the sum of his own self. That's to imply that he isn't alone in this, if Tall Tale was indicative of that. There was also that petty guard—Alloy Spark—and so on. With all being said, when you recall my rather, er, unfortunate history with Equestria, to an outsider such as himself suspicion would be the obvious path to take, and I say this, Tia, out of the most unbiased and generous analysis I can muster."

"I still don't understand, Luna."

"What I want you to keep in mind is that Corvo distrusts me for a very specific reason. Not you, definitely, and perhaps not the ponies or Spike, although I'm still not quite prepared to make such a claim just yet, and his friend Serath... ah, those two share an unusual common ground."

"This is all baseless," hurried Celestia in a weak voice, as though she were starting to become frustrated with herself. "Corvo's assertions, I mean, they're baseless, but if I take your word for it, Luna, maybe he really is latching on to something else."

"Yes, but first things first: we ought to get it through to him that I have no connection with King Sombra at the present time. Then, you and I proceed to work out his reasoning for his wariness, in what way does he presume that I have been puppeted by King Sombra, and then maybe, just maybe..."

"We can potentially save many more of our subjects," laid out Celestia with an extreme tenderness, resting her full attention on her sister with shining eyes. A pale smile curved on her soothing lips, one with a certain line of the utmost sincerity. "I really am glad that you're by my side, Luna. It's the best I could ask for."

"Tia, please, reserve your sentimental side for the after-party," chuckled Luna. "In any regard, I'm strangely curious in Serath also."

"Well, we've established that fact already, didn't we?"

"I know, but there's so much more we can learn from him, and him from us, and he seems more than willing to lend us his mutual trust and respect. And it positively baffles me how someone like Serath could befriend someone like Corvo. On the surface they may share similarities, but their character—now that's night and day, with a certain exception."

"Well said, Luna. Once we defeat King Sombra we'll have the opportunity," Celestia resolved confidently. "Let's go back, we should join up with Corvo and the others."

"Again, you say?" Luna smirked sardonically. "Ha, yes, it'd be appropriate. We should be instructing the others on our next course of action. You mentioned very little so far."

"Most of it you could probably guess," stated Celestia breathlessly. "First: make sure we can gather all that we may for a second journey; then... well, you see, I've been meaning to find Shining Armor and Princess Cadence again, and I really do think they're searching for us, all the way north. But things aren't moving fast enough," she spoke faster now, "which means we have to be absolutely certain that everypony is on the same page with us. Are you coming, Luna? Hmm, Luna?"

"I'm just pondering on what to do, it's nothing really," said Luna, seizing herself at once to make a move and jogged out the door, faster than her sister.

The two alicorn sisters joined back with the rest, a little after Corvo had taken off with Discord to the ambiguous basement. The general conversation in the primary room hung on boredom, with a particular topic sparking up every once in a while only to be inconveniently ignored by the rest of our heroes, replaced by vain waiting, and this occurred suddenly, irritably even. The hours weighed down, pointlessly revealing the slowness of time, dragging their potential excitement to a near-absolute halt. It was still a bit before one o'clock in the morning, and when Celestia and Luna came back to the ponies, while momentarily pleased, still puffed away the frustration of standing by. As is such, Serath asked what their next course of action should be, with an air of humbleness to himself, although even he suggested a handful of possibilities he "had time to entertain," as he worded it. Celestia was quick to point out their unusual unproductiveness, only in the beginning, which she used as a sort of lift off to encourage the ponies and Serath to listen up with consideration: they were to remain on the move. When Twilight asked if there was any other way, Celestia threw in the tunnel systems as previously mentioned in the story, and at last revealed this is what she had in store for them.

Each city and town had its own tunnel system, built very securely by the most talented engineers, all connecting to one another out of shared convenience. This spacious and old house in the west—that was merely for common restoration. They had the Crystal Heart now, and so it was a matter of bringing it back to the Crystal Empire. Not even King Sombra could have considered such an oddity.

This has, of course, all been noted in passing.

* * *

"One moment, and... eh, are you sure there's enough room down here?" said Corvo. The four or five torches held up to the creaking walls lit his pale face, revealing the thick swarm of floating dust in the air. He sat down at the very end of the basement, as though he were backing away from excessive discomfort. He rested his attention on the impressive stacks of books—rather, the numerous tombs, most of which leant inwardly against one another, pressing downwards on many of the shelves, scattering planks and pages along the floor.

"Don't worry about me," said Discord, grinning affably but with notable difficulty. The majority of his long body slid into the narrow underground, with the occasional accidental bump along the weakened shelves and piles of books; only his feathery tail stuck out into the above room, although he largely ignored the awkwardness of this position and stared curiously at Corvo, who then grabbed onto an impossibly heavy tomb and slowly sank it down to the floor; clusters of dust sprayed onto his coat.

"I must say, I never quite expected you to take such an interest in this stuff," Discord went on with genuine inquisitiveness. His yellow and greedy eyes bulged out in dubious anticipation, encouraging his own supercilious composure.

"These paper-weights hidden away in an unknown sanctuary—sounds oddly poetic," Corvo articulated with animated eyes, scanning the book before him with a certain impatience almost. "Let me see here," he opened the cover and flipped through the first dozen or so pages, "what are these letters supposed to represent? You see here, the big ones?—well, some dried-up ink is going off to the side here."

"I can maybe understand Middle Equestrian, which dates back a thousand years ago," Discord explained thoughtfully. "These letters, though, they're older than that. Try two thousand years. And what is it, those big letters? Let me have a look!" He shot forth and his head hovered over Corvo's shoulders. "Dan Spake... something, something... Old Unro Tunzan?" His face at once looked anxious.

"I guess 'spake' translates to speak," said Corvo, "and I know what 'old' is."

Corvo stuck his fingers into the book and sluggishly turned half the thing open. They were met with an impenetrable wall of text.

"This leads us nowhere," Corvo decided after rapidly scanning the oily and enigmatic letters, a few lines at first, but then he began to skim. "Notice the page-breaker. There's one every ten or—maybe fifteen pagers, and there are twenty here."

"What kind of mad pony would write twenty-page paragraphs!" cried Discord with sudden animation. But something of an unusual nature caught hold of him; he cast his eyes intensely at the pages again and heaved a perturbed sigh. "Ah, pish-posh, this really is the oldest form of Equestrian dialect. But even so," he hummed thoughtfully, "these obviously belong to Princess Celestia, I believe she stored them away here. I never took her for a linguist."

"I suspect the breakers are the start of new chapters. And maybe not chapters, but related yet separate pieces of text." He again flipped back many more pages.

"Well, would you look at that," said Discord suddenly, pointing significantly to a picture which had appeared. It looked to be a calculated tower of intricate circles and squares, drawn with horribly hard lines and gloomy brush strokes, overlapped by writings far too different to be that of the original text, writings with those same tough lines that could be discerned as somehow forbidden, angry even; but these lines seemed to have leaked down and, as a result, been smudged a long time ago. The next page revealed another shape, a single circle, a shaded point in the middle, and a chain of words expanding out to the very corners of the stained paper. This one was much lighter and easier on the eyes.

"Illustrations," remarked Corvo resolutely, as though he had finally reached a certain edge of satisfaction with this discovery.

"I'm getting some bad vibes about this," said Discord, his face now more serious. "These are magical signs, but those are unbelievably outdated. Tell me, Corvo, if you will: just how familiar are you with Equestrian magic? I'd really like to know."

"Not enough," he sighed in response. "The history books were horribly vague."

"Books or not, this one here certainly is shy about sharing its information with us. I don't understand the writing—the vast majority of this—and I'm thousands of years old."

His ears perked, he leaned in closer, now dancing his eyes from word to word, trying his best to carry some meaning out of each individual letter, and with each passing second it was as if a greater comprehension made itself more visible. His focus was solely based on reconnecting two objective facts he happened to be familiar with.

"I see now," he said in a whispering voice, "paragraphs were only introduced into Equestria's literary history about four thousand years ago, even before Star Swirl the Beaded, considering his scrolls used indentations. Er," he face scrunched up in perplexed reflection, "so... I guess you could say that these might be the first uses of magic."

"Ever?"

"Well, when you say it like that, it really ought to put things into perspective," said Discord, grinning.

Corvo's determination erupted with rapid-fire page flips, swiping his fingers along certain lines, only to bring his attention back to those ancient illustrations.

"Hold on!" interposed Discord in surprise. "Perhaps it's best to not jump to conclusions just yet. I actually have no idea if these are the first uses of magic. But a good guess nonetheless could bring us somewhere, wouldn't you agree?"

"Tell me something, Discord, these signs—can you perform them, or interact with them in such a way?"

"Perform!" guffawed Discord, now looking at the book with distaste. "What ever do you take me for, Corvo? This Spirit of Chaos upholds his own standards. This magic is too shabby for me."

"It might draw us something, or somewhere," he insisted. "Come now, Discord, heels up!"

Discord frowned and took a closer inspection. Something was twitching in him, inspiring in his own sense of curiosity a step of wariness. "Wait a minute," he declared sharply, and twisting his neck he gazed up at the rest of the books, and proceeded to levitate a select tomb from its creaking shelf and placed it in between him and Corvo. The latter took to a position of observing what he was up to.

Discord flipped through numerous pages until he landed on more illustrations: these broke off at a rip in the page, but nevertheless represented in its own artistic surface a feeling of regret, of which they could not explain right away.

"Right here," said Corvo with an almost unrestrained animation in his voice. "Notice the intricate circle, round the edges—the small flowers and numerals painted—the streaks of sentences are shooting out from its center again. What are we catching up to exactly?"

"Mm—something I'd rather not bother with," Discord admitted in a long, tired voice. "The only thing I could possibly bring up, going by these pictures, are the different styles. If you notice, one is menacing and dreary, and the other? Oh, completely calculated and a bit organized—I'm talking about the circles with that last one."

Corvo was silent, staring almost blankly at the pictures and words, and in a faltering voice he said: "We must not waste time. Do you hear me? Tell me you do."

"What are you hoping to extract from this nonsense?" questioned Discord doubtfully, raising an eyebrow, as if about to leave.

"There is one fact, one very convenient fact, which I feel strongly in its contexts," said Corvo, with an expression on his face that Discord had never seen before, an expression of adamant and frank emotion. He spoke decidedly and somehow indirectly. "Magic is, for all intents and purposes, a web of interactions. The reason for Sombra's return was my mere presence two years ago: my magic reacted wildly with his dark magic, initiating a strain which rose him from his burial in the ice. The longer magic goes without interaction, the greater its sensitivity. This is what I aim for: if we decipher the magic in these books, which has been cold for thousands of years—supposedly—we may create the correct stream that should lead us to Sombra. Do you follow?"

"You're trying to go after King Sombra!" exclaimed Discord in animation, his whole face becoming distorted. "Did you forget who he is? I'd have a better time performing stand-up comedy at the Gala than track him down."

"Show some effort," said Corvo imperiously, as though trying to provoke a response from Discord. "Eh, do you not have a 'deciphering' spell of some kind? Anything works, really! Our time is short."

Discord wanted to say something, but his source for words remained hollowed by a rather strong consideration for these books, and even Corvo, whom he grew faint about. There was very little time, this was true, and he found himself in a contradiction of both wishing to inform the princesses and staying put; his eyes stuck on the cryptic wildness of the cryptic drawings. Something here seemed to be in reverse, quite unnatural.

A moment of regret rang in his whole body, but at last he huffed in grumpy tones and lifted a claw. "Fine, give me just a second—but if things turn sour, I refuse to take the blame!"

"Right, right!" Corvo ardently agreed. "But keep to confidentiality."

"Huh?" Discord looked at him unusually. "So you don't intend to tell Princess Celestia what you're up to? My, my, and here I took you for a proper teammate."

"I try to be decent."

"You owe me for this," deadpanned Discord. He channeled his magic, as hastily as he could, and deliberately poked the paper ten times, as though he were impatiently knocking on a door, each tap causing ripples. His chaos magic was stiff at the moment, unable to arouse even the smallest reaction with the older-than-dirt inscriptions. He at once took this for a weak link. His own magic could not create a reaction. He guessed if the book itself might have been chaos magic.

But then the letters started to vibrate, almost ready to bounce off the pages; they started to rearrange themselves, but to their disappointment when it stopped the words were still incomprehensible. Or so Corvo assumed.

A happy grin swept across Discord's face. "Ha, take that!" he cried.

"What is it?"

"I can read these now. I couldn't before. It appears these tombs hold a very weak bond with chaos. A pity indeed." He went on to scan the pages and flip back and forth between the illustrations. "That took quite a bit out of me, believe it or not, but it reads here: White Light magic. And on the circle, the one shooting out these lines, it says: Black Light magic. Light and black—ah-ha, the oldest forms of sight, and the oldest forms of magic. I was right all along!" he ended triumphantly.

"This is strange indeed," said Corvo. "You stated that it 'took quite a bit' out of you, so we must stop with the chaos magic. It must be accustomed to chaos magic, that is. How about a sample of my own..." he lit up his Mark, and the results were immediate.

The tomb jumped, its pages flitting back and forth at a blinding rate; the black letters burned with a blue glow, some disappearing and reappearing at random. Corvo struggled to hold it down, and Discord's magic showed no signs of influence over the book.

When the Mark on his hand deactivated the tomb went limp. Both Discord and Corvo exchanges wild looks, and the latter quickly flipped back to the illustrations, while on the way noticing about a third of the pages were now blank.

"I understand now," he said in the highest degree of excitement. "Your magic, Discord—it's Equestrian, and so is this book; my magic is foreign, from another world altogether." He chuckled coolly to himself and rose to his feet. "But dark magic is unique as well. Sombra spent two years in my world, close to me; his magic is practically intertwined with the Outsider's magic, or my own Mark. But this old brick?" He gestured to the first book, suddenly ripped off the two pages with the illustrations, and almost unconsciously stuffed them into his inner-pocket. "We can use this kind of thing to follow Sombra's trail of dark magic. Can you do that?"

"I can," Discord drawled out slowly, almost inaudibly. He still wasn't sure about this and remained in an internal debate with himself. "But will I? That's a whole other question."

"Why are you scared?" asked Corvo, as if suspecting Discord of untold embarrassment.

"Scared? Pfft, come now, Corvo, you know as well as anyone what dangers King Sombra represents at the moment." He's almost as strong as Tirek now.

"He has gotten stronger, I know."

"Listen up, Corvo, because this is important," said Discord urgently, frowning all the same: "ever since Sombra returned to his former self his power has grown exponentially. In fact, I'd wager it'd take the combined force of Princess Celestia and Princess Luna to just be on par with his magic—but," he put strain on these words, "the more this blasted smoke spreads across Equestria, the stronger he becomes. There's a reason I used the term 'exponential' after all."

"The Crystal Heart can still defeat him."

"An impossible task!" Discord turned round and crossed his arms stubbornly. "Yes, it's true: using your magic, that of the Outsider," he ground his teeth at the name, "I can sense magical imbalances. But to seriously go after him, King Sombra? It'd be a suicide mission!"

"Discord, it is in my best interest to help you and your friends—my pleasure, in fact," said Corvo affably, leaning against the wall a little. His affability took Discord completely by surprise. "But there is not much else we can do, now is there? We are still on the run, and sooner than later, Sombra shall destroy Equestria and kill all of us."

Discord looked down and thought for a moment.

"But what's your goal, the end-game?" he shot out indignantly. "Surely you must have one. Find Sombra and then: what?"

"I simply do not want Celestia or Luna involved, that's what," said Corvo in a gloomy voice. "All I need is a final confrontation with Sombra, just one, that is all, and you must help me."

Corvo spoke each word with heart. It was at this moment where everything came together in his mind; this decision to leave unnoticed was the product of all the pieces he had managed to gather grounded on the center of his own rationale, and he was confident in it. He had already heard about Celestia's plan to travel back through Equestria underground, where the smoke could not touch them; he had gone back and forth dozens of times on Luna's words and actions as of recent, and their prospects, as well as his interpretations of them, no matter how much Celestia disapproved. He had a very clear—in fact, an all too clear—scheme in mind, but one he couldn't reveal, not just yet.

This was the so-called expected deduction mentioned earlier.

At last Discord decided: "Ugh, fine then! I'll go with you. But don't get the wrong idea, Corvo. I'm going because I want to; this place is awfully boring, I can't stand it! While it might not fit my position"— a sly smirk flashed on his sharp lips —"I might get something out of this. Very well, on we go! Hmm, what's the matter? Are you feeling improper now?"

"No. Just thinking: why languish any longer, why wait?" said Corvo in a deep voice. He sighed and shook his face amusingly. "Come, let's go join the others. I hear Celestia talking now."

He climbed the ladder back up, with Discord close behind, right to the primary room.

* * *

"Princess Celestia?" said Twilight softly, trying her hardest to smile.

"Yes, Twilight?" came Celestia's response, exchanging glances of concern. "Tell me whatever you want."

Twilight momentarily dropped her eyes and bit her lip. She didn't know how to phrase it properly, most likely because she never thought she would have to say it, but at last she murmured carefully to her mentor, as to make sure know one caught on: "I'm starting to feel sorry for Serath."

"Are you now?" said Celestia. She looked searchingly at Twilight, as though she were pleased with something.

"Just look at him, princess," said Twilight again uneasily, thinking to herself there was something yet to be discussed.

She was right. Serath was not behaving very comfortably. At times he would talk continuously, almost loudly and laughing, sharing whatever stories he could and even explain, though he knew the ponies didn't understand everything, his research on medicine. It was this relentless openness that made Spike almost admire him, as it were, getting him to listen to all of his dragon-related stories and always went on to ask Serath the biggest questions he could think up of: what rhymes with 'orange', how to pretend to sleep more convincingly, how antibodies worked, not-so-subtle romance advice, and so on and so forth. But then there were those times when the situation dawned on Serath, forced him to take exceptional notice of what had occurred in the past two days; it was at these moments when a grey shadow would appear over his face, and he would suddenly go quiet and sit by himself, or fidget uncontrollably. And when asked what was wrong, he either replied with a sad shrug or he dissolved into a strange laughter.

His company was most appreciated, there's no doubt there; but even so he somehow felt bad for talking about himself, and always preferred to strike up conversations concerning Equestria and the ponies.

"It isn't right to have him stay here," Twilight went on. "It's fun to have him around, but he also has a family waiting for him. And he reminds me nothing about Corvo, except for looks," she suddenly exclaimed thoughtfully. "That isn't bad, is it, princess, to look at him this way? I really do hope he manages to return to his world in the end."

"Nicely rounded off," said Celestia, looking intently at Twilight with a quiet and searching smile. "You've proven yourself to be made of great empathy, and it shows. Think what you feel is right. I won't stop you."

"I understand, princess," said Twilight somehow more firmly than before. "We've always tried to same everypony, and any newcomer should be welcomed. Hey, I know," she added hopefully, "maybe we can invite Serath over some time to talk about the magic of friendship, and princess, you could join us, and we'd get along better. That's a much better time to share what we have in common than being plopped right in the middle of Equestria's demise. Would you approve?"

Celestia laughed weakly and leaned back on her seat, leaning just a bit closer to Twilight than before. "Of course I'd approve, Twilight." But a suggestive worry crossed her face. "Though, and pardon my intrusion, don't you think you're all too readily thinking about this stuff? I believe only Pinkie Pie would plan a get-together so soon."

"Oh, right, sorry!" said Twilight with a flushed face, laughing nervously and resumed staring at Serath from across the room. He took notice of her staring and threw in a polite wave. She waved back, but at once an overwhelming amount of pity struck her. "I really hope he'll be alright."

"Hmm?" Celestia looked back to Twilight.

"That reminds me!" exclaimed Twilight familiarly, yet smiling sheepishly at her princess. "I asked him to see the picture of his family he mentioned, though I never got the chance."

It was at this time that both Corvo and Discord revealed themselves from the room with the two chairs. Corvo wandered in with long, far-reaching strides, his face highlighted with something mysterious, as though he were deep in thought and wished not to be disturbed. Discord didn't have much else to say, merely announced himself but otherwise stood still near the corner, with a horribly ironic grin plastered on his long face.

"Twilight and her friends told me where you two went," said Luna the moment she saw them walk in, as though she expected them to arrive at this. Her voice suggested a lingering curiosity. "Down in the books?"

"Yes, reading books," said Corvo.

"Very big books," claimed Discord with a feverish gleam in his sententious eyes.

"I'm not expecting you to have found anything," said Celestia, shifting her now-compassionate focus to Corvo. "Those books are remarkably old."

"The dust gives it away," muttered Corvo. "Or even the creaky shelves." He sat on the floor besides the hearth and eventually started to tap his foot. He couldn't leave, not yet; he needed an excuse most of all, and this became apparent very quickly as he noticed Celestia and Luna whispering to each other and eyeing him.

"But did you?" came Celestia's inquiry suddenly.

What can I say here? thought Corvo. Would she expect anything, or know that I know, or... "No, the letters are too scrambled."

"I thought so," said Celestia, tones of surprise disappointment ringing in her voice.

"Perhaps we should inform Corvo of our next step," suggested Rarity.

"Let's go now then!" said Rainbow Dash fervently. She flew up to stretch her wings after being on the couch for so long. "I'm getting real sick of be cramped up in here for so long. This pony needs some space!"

"Rainbow Dash, the princess already told ya to stay indoors," said Applejack in reproach, but she too seemed to be out of it. "Ah shoot, we gotta stick together, 'n' it means hidin' 'neath our tails like a bunch of scaredy ponies. Darn it!"

"Don't worry, Applejack, we'll be back in Ponyville before we know it," interjected Fluttershy softly. She tapped her friend on the back; Applejack nodded in response.

"Ah'm fine, Fluttershy. Honest."

"I, uh, think I agree with Rainbow Dash on this one," said Pinkie Pie with a solemn look on her face. She slumped off the couch onto the floor and heaved a sigh. "It gets really lame after a while... and I miss Sugarcube Corner already!"

"I agree with the general consensus," remarked Luna, her voice clear and thick. "Any further dwelling in these ruins would be nothing short of redundant. We must make our way through the tunnels and meet back with Princess Cadence."

"Allow me a minute to myself," announced Corvo suddenly. He rose to his feet at once and strode across the room to the front door. This instant change in action nearly caught Celestia by surprise.

"Hold on," she called back dubiously, "I thought we'd agree to stay indoors until everypony else leaves." Her expression changed into something of a haughty look, staring at Corvo with enough doubt as to be passed off as mockery. "For all I know one of King Sombra's minions might attack when you're alone, eliminating a powerful opponent. You won't stand a chance, I'm afraid." But this 'expression of mockery' was very clearly an act, Corvo assumed.

"I will only be a minute, right by the porch here," he replied absentmindedly.

And before there could be any further protest he walked outside and swung the door closed. There was now a momentary silence, only then broken by Discord: "We really should act quickly, Celestia dear. Who knows what King Sombra might be hatching, right now, this very moment!" A large rubber band flashed into existence before him; it started to pull itself apart. "The tension, it's so astonishing, ready to snap"— the band broke loudly and vanished —"at any time. Just say the word and we'll be off."

"We'll be off soon, Discord," said Celestia. "There's still a hoof-full of hours till I'm meant to raise the sun. With the ability to navigate the tunnels via teleportation, this should all be over soon."

"If King Sombra doesn't catch us first," Discord objected glumly. He started pacing back and forth round the room—rather, floating back and forth—with a hard, centered expression on his weary countenance. He added in an undertone: "He's far too powerful now."

"We'll make it," said Celestia smoothly with a small smile. "The nearest train station is close to White Tail Woods, about half an hour off East by train ride—if we ride fast. We'll start heading back to the train."

The door opened and Corvo walked in.

"Like I said: a mere minute," he remarked, but still bore a solemn look.

"Corvo, we are to trek back to the train," said Serath before anyone else could.

"What were you doing out there?" asked Twilight, raising an eyebrow.

"Gazing at the field," said Corvo. "It's rather eerie out there, the night sky is exceptionally dark."

"Uh-huh," said Twilight in confusion, but otherwise thought nothing of it.

"Back to the train, you say, Serath?" went on Corvo in a monotonous voice, his words each contrasted with the other, as though he spoke them with a sparse individuality. "Eh, it makes sense to bring the Crystal Heart back—we would have to eventually, isn't that right?"

"Right," said Celestia matter-of-factly.

"We better start going then," said Luna distinctly. She beckoned to the six ponies and Spike; they all looked to one another, displaying different shades of either assurance or confusion, and one by one were led outside with Luna waiting. Corvo moved about the room almost mechanically, as though his steps were premeditated; he halted in front of Discord, said: "I want to grab another page from those books, to see to something, is all," and Discord followed him back to the smaller room, glancing mysteriously and even sardonically at Celestia.

As for Princess Celestia herself, sweat began sweeping down her temples. She took several deep breaths. The air grew colder and harder to stay still. Her heart had been pounding violently the entire train ride here, ever since they had set their eyes upon the smoke in the Crystal Empire. But she needed to keep calm and think clearly. She cared too much for her ponies to panic, considering what they were about to do, and the uncertainty of it all. She summoned all the strength she could to conserve any and all possible will. She believed in them, in herself.

To note elsewhere, Corvo was right concerning the eeriness of the outdoors. The fields were wide and expansive, with not a tree in sight save for the hedge lines in the distance. The sky was a colossal black mass, devoid of brightness, cold and unmoving; the world here was halfway into an abyss, it seemed. It was as if the night ensured a dead silence among nature. It struck out almost painfully to the ponies how far out they really were, and every now and again they would look over their shoulders as though an intruder were about to strike. The darkness and the lack of sound, with the exception of their loud breaths—this is what glued them together in an instance. Only Luna stood a bit out, using her horn to lead them.

"We're going now," said Celestia irritably, but with concern in her voice. "I can hardly see my sister and the others, only a faint light..." she peeked outside and strained her eyes.

"Half a minute!" cried Corvo from within. "Less, even."

"And why is Discord with you?" Celestia now started to grow restless. "We need to catch up to Princess Luna."

There was no response this time.

"Corvo, are you done yet?" Celestia wandered into the smaller room, her breath now becoming visible. The torches were put out. She lit her horn and stared into the basement below. The light cast hard shadows against the piles of tombs, the crooked shelves, and the depressions within the stone walls; but that was it. They were gone.

Comments

[the host]

Over using abjectives, keep an eye on that

[F1utt3rShI]

Now this chapter right here? Well worth the wait, if i I dont say so myself! I find that this story is one of the few that i can stand reading 18k words of in one sitting without growing bored. Bravo sir!