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Prologue528 words
Chapter 11,121 words

Chapter 1

At the edge of a valley, a hooded man in simple, brown robes walked through the woods. Though he trod carefully, his head never rose, and his eyes remained unseen. For those familiar with the valley, it was apparent that he was traveling to Old Man's Cave- a sanctum in desperate times, and a record of the valley's origins. The man paused, turning his head as if listening for something. He flinched briefly, sensing a disturbance in the west that he did not recognize. He whispered something to himself, and changed direction. If one looked carefully, they might see the drifting plumes of chimney smoke rising from the woods. There lay the Barrelhaven, and the villagers nearby. His footsteps just a little more brisk, his breaths just a little more fearful, he forged through the forest. Time was of the essence.

Many miles east, beneath the barren, windswept peaks of the mountains, beneath the empty caves and the cold, lifeless earth, deep in the dreamless stones beneath the valley, a presence stirred.

A few twists over, in a land called Equestria, in the small town of Ponyville, the sun set on Golden Oaks Library, home to a modest but well-loved collection and its resident librarian. This library had seen many ponies come and go, and in the last few years, quite a few experiments as well. In the midst of piles of paper and several different atlases, a lavender alicorn sat, fiddling with the knobs of a complicated device with lots of dials, tubes and magical miscellany. This was not an experiment per se, as Twilight was not attempting to prove a hypothesis, but rather an educational activity. She and Spike were working to create a thaumaturgical map of Ponyville and the surrounding countryside at Cheerilee's request. Spike was less than enthusiastic, since this delayed his weekly ice-cream meet with the Crusaders, but Twilight was as eager as ever to help young minds learn.

"Did you get that, Spike?"

"Wavelength: 3026.63, Gamma: 4.20, Warp: 2.12 Delta."

"2.12? That can't be right..." Twilight mumbled to herself. 2.12 exceeded the normal range for readings by almost 1.8- unless the machine was broken, that was definitely equine error. Maybe Spike needed a rest. Come to think of it, she needed one too.

"Thanks, Spike. I think that's enough for tonight." Twilight yawned. "Good night Spike!"

"'Night."

As Spike nestled into his bed, Twilight poured herself a cup of chamomile tea. She preferred mint, but needed something to soothe her tired mind. As she usually did at such an hour, Twilight turned her attention to the fiction section. Daring Do may have been one of her go-tos, but today she was in the mood for something a little older. Hmm... Mareby Dock? That should do nicely.

Before she could get comfortable, however, Owlicious woke with a sudden, violent hoot. He hopped from foot to foot, feathers fluffed in agitation.

"What is it, Owlicious?"

"WHO!"
As Twilight looked around nervously, she felt a strange, unnatural chill pass over her. She leapt in surprise, fur on end, scalp prickling. She shivered, and picked up her teacup.

"Maybe I should go to sleep a little earlier tonight." Twilight muttered to herself, then, with a slight chuckle, "Before you know it, I'll be seeing ghosts!"
Twilight was not a superstitious pony, but even after snuggling deep into her blankets, she couldn't shake a sense of uneasiness.

Mareby Dock lay forgotten in the armchair downstairs.

The steady beat of pacing hooves woke Spike. The first rays of dawn were only just peaking over the trees, and the library was still shrouded in the dimness of night. Spike left his bed with a groan. This wasn't the first time Twilight had stayed up all night trying to solve some unsolvable problem. Sure enough, the sight of a preoccupied, pacing, purple, pony princess greeted Spike at the bottom of the stairs.

"Twilight?"

"...But that worked, which means the fail-safe should've triggered and just retrieved null results, but..."

"Twilight!"

"...which means the coil would have to be miscalibrated, but I triple-checked it, and it wasn't faulty. What if it was..."

"TWILIGHT!"

"...it could be a problem with the linking lever between- Oh, hey Spike. You're up early."

"Yeah, your pacing could wake the dead."
Twilight blushed and grinned sheepishly, "Sorry."

"What are you trying to fix, anyways?" Spike asked, trying to figure out which of Twilight's instruments was half-assembled and strewn across the floor.

"The thaumostatic oscilloscope has been producing inaccurate readings, and I'm trying to figure out which piece is causing the problem."

Spike shrugged, "Well, why don't you just send it to an expert?"

"I am an expert, Spike!" Twilight paused, "It might be a good idea to lend it to a colleague for confirmation of my findings, however." Spike rolled his eyes and wandered towards the kitchen. "Whatever. Hey, do you want something to eat? Did you even have breakfast yet?" Twilight's stomach answered for her. "Right. Two batches of pancakes, coming right up." He disappeared around the corner, following the siren song of food. In the meantime, Twilight collected the pieces of the machine and reassembled it, preparing to box it up for transport. She wasn't sure who else she could talk to, but her mother would probably know- even if Twilight Velvet couldn't figure out what was wrong, she knew a lot of ponies who could. And, if worst came to worst, it would simply turn into a family visit.

"That settles it. SPIKE!"

"I'm right here, you don't have to shout, Twilight."

"Sorry! Can you take a list please? We should be able to take the 7:00 to Canterlot, which gives us 49 minutes to prepare and 3 minutes to get to the station and board, accounting for usual delays."

"Aye, aye, captain!"

Elsewhere, in a tall, lonely tower of the palace of Canterlot, dark, heavy drapes obscured what little sun graced the sky. The delicate, silvery web of stars painted on the ceiling shone faintly against the darkness surrounding it. Hidden behind a protective barrier of books, keepsakes and oddities, a canopy bed of unknowable age loomed. Shrouded within her nest of memories, Luna twitched and turned in her sleep, and Tiberius chattered nervously to himself. A single locust flew from her windowsill, away into the dawn.

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