Daring Do and the Secret of the Sunken City

by 8686

14: Daring Ex Machina

Dodging falling trees and racing over shifting, uneven ground, Daring pelted across the doomed forest. The sharp cracks of tree-trunks snapping as they fell, dislodged from their once-firm purchase in the earth, were deafening and omnipresent. Fractures and fault-lines were starting to appear on the surface, and the ground was breaking up, ready to fall in at any moment. She had absolutely no time, and she sprinted onwards. Gouts of dirt and dust and stray leaves thrown into the air by the monumental upheaval conspired to disorient and distract her, but her focus was set.

The obelisk. Still standing strong, its golden capstone glowing like a welcoming beacon amid the tumult of destruction all around. Daring homed in on it, ran for it like her tail was on fire. Every second was crucial. Twilight couldn’t survive on CPR forever. If she couldn’t get back to her before she expired, this was all for nothing.

She reached the obelisk and found the entrance, and the staircase descending into the depths of the city. She hesitated not a second before plunging once more into the bowels of the earth; into a decaying metropolis that had repeatedly attempted to entomb her. She would give it one final opportunity to try.

She took the steps on the spiral staircase in leaps and bounds, ignorant of sure-footing and trusting her safety to instinct as a compromise for speed. She had to reach the base of the broken tower before the cavern ceiling collapsed around it and it fell.

There it was. The end of the staircase and the drop into nothing. The city below illuminated by the dwindling number of star-lights in the increasingly ruined ceiling.

But at the edge of the staircase, right where it dropped away, and secured to the walls both left and right by thick, sturdy bolts, was a scaffold. Well made and firmly erected, it hung itself out over the drop and trailed four strong, burly lengths of rope straight down to the small courtyard below. And as Daring looked down, there it was, half-submerged by the floodwater permeating the city.

The platform. And still upon it, three sets of saddlebags. And in one of those: the Crown of Unity.

There was a winch-and-crank mounted on the scaffold, as a method to raise and lower the platform without being on it, and Daring took hold of it and started to turn.

The platform started to rise, but agonisingly slowly as each turn of the winch seemed to yield half-a-metre’s increase in height. Daring felt the tower shift and sway around her – it wouldn’t be long before the constant movement of the cavern ceiling caused it to give up its hold and fall, and she needed to be gone before that happened. She turned the crank faster, her muscles starting to burn, but the platform now over half-way to her. She could see Twilight’s saddlebags now. Even fancied she could make out the outline of the Crown through the fabric. Closer. Closer. She was going to do it!

The platform rose to barely five meters beneath the base of the broken tower. Almost within grabbing distance. And then the tower shook.

Block and mortar, wall and stair began to crumble and disintegrate. Large sections of ancient, fragile masonry fell away as the tower started to collapse. The scaffolding on the outer wall went, heavy bolts and sturdy braces now useless as their anchor-points vanished with a rumble and a snap. The construction fell, jolting the platform beneath and pitching it vertically. And all three sets of saddlebags slid off and fell back into the city below as more brickwork fell atop them amidst half a dozen lengthy metal poles.

Daring stared, aghast. “No!” she screamed, scrambling away up several stairs as they began to fall apart beneath her. She couldn’t believe it. She had been so close! Almost within leg’s reach! No!

Come on, Yearling. Take a breath and get it together. This isn’t one of those times when it doesn’t matter if you fail. Ponies are counting on you. You’ve gotta get that crown. Whatever it takes.

The platform was still hanging just below her level, suspended by the scaffolding on the inside wall which had not yet collapsed. Reaching forward over the empty space where three stairs had just fallen away, she released the lock on the winch mechanism and the platform plummeted back down to the courtyard, running down its two remaining support ropes. She took a deep breath and steeled herself. And she leaped.

She grabbed the closest rope, and it lurched horribly as the remnants of the frame fixed to the tower began to crumble. But she needed it to hold for but a few moments, and for a mercy, it did.

Descending the rope as fast as she dared, she brought herself to ground in the small courtyard next to the ruined section of scaffold that had been rent from the tower above. She splooshed as she made landfall, the floodwater up to her belly, and cast her gaze around for Twilight’s saddlebag. Had to be here. Where?

There! Half submerged and half-buried, all three sets of saddlebags had fallen in a sorry heap amidst a hefty pile of rubble. It took a little digging to— Whoa! A large wet splash leapt at her, just from her left as a building-block-sized chunk of stone from the tower above crashed into the water beside her, and follow-up splashes continued as half-brick sized debris followed it down, raining in a scatter-gun pattern. She needed to get away from here, fast, else her cranium would have its own Twilight-style encounter with a piece of the city, and from that height, her hat probably wouldn’t offer much protection.

Scrabbling with her hooves, she freed the rubble up from around the pile of saddlebags. Of course Twilight’s were on the bottom. Just had to be so, didn’t they? Rainbow’s came free first, light as a feather considering their almost complete lack of content, and she tossed them across her back. Then her own saddlebags followed suit. Finally she reached for Twilight’s... Oh.

Oh, when is this place going to cut me a break?!

Twilight’s bags had come open in the fall, and its contents had ejected far and wide. Daring was able to retrieve the bags themselves – now mostly empty save for a little food that might just have been well-wrapped enough not to be totally soggy – but the crown was gone.

Twilight’s depleted saddlebags joined Rainbow’s and her own on her back and she scanned everywhere for the relic. The fact that it was probably under two or three feet of water made everything more difficult, and she was constantly splashed by the rubble raining down from above. Come on! Where is it?!

At last a faint gleam caught her eye. A fraction of gold buried among the debris. There. Frantically she scraped and lifted and pulled on the rocky detritus until she could see it clearly.

The end of one of the poles of the scaffold fallen from the tower above had – in a calamitous stroke of evil luck – been driven through the centre of the crown. The circlet of gold was trapped, as though a loose shackle around the core of the scaffold pole which was buried on either side by the heavy chunks of masonry that had fallen upon it.

Daring scowled. She pulled on the metal pole, but it would not budge. Gathering her strength she yanked it hard, but found it firmly wedged. She pushed against the rubble, hoping to free up at least one of the ends, but the weight of the stone, and yet more stone atop it, was too great. She lifted, she shoved, she pulled, she wrenched, she kicked, she roared and finally, she screamed. An agonised howl of pure frustration.

She couldn’t free the crown. It was within sight... within reach. She could literally touch it! But she couldn’t get it. She wasn’t strong enough. She hadn’t been fast enough. The one hope that Twilight had, and she couldn’t bring it to her. She couldn’t save her. She had failed. She’d failed her friend in the worst possible way. And in a few moments the rest of the tower above her would surely collapse and bury the entire courtyard in rubble, followed soon after by the whole cavern ceiling. And all hope for Twilight would be lost.

She gritted her teeth and scowled a dangerous scowl at the crown, furious at the inanimate piece of metal entrapped by rod and rubble. All it had had to do was land anywhere other than right there. But no. It seemed this city, and everything about it, was determined to make her suffer. She didn’t even want the stupid crown! As far as she was concerned the city could have it back after she was done with it! This wasn’t about Daring Do risking her neck for some ancient forgotten relic, this was about her finally risking her neck for something that mattered. Her friend! Twilight needed her! Needed that crown! And this stupid city wanted...!

And she stopped. She looked at the crown again. A gleaming circlet of pure gold, adorned on the front with a large, bright, marquise-cut gemstone of the palest azure. And she felt her breath catch.

“I don’t need the crown,” she whispered. “I just need you!”

She reached for it, and quickly recoiled. “I can’t touch it,” she reminded herself aloud, the self-verbalised cautionary note enough to override her haste before it became misadventure. If just grab it, it’ll knock me out like it did before. Hmm. She needed something to wrap around it. Like a cloth or fabric or... of course!

Quickly flipping open the flap on her own saddlebag she pulled out her towel and wrapped it loosely around a forehoof. And with the assistance of a loose rock, chipped and with a flat edge, she carefully levered the jewel from its gold mounting.

It popped out with a satisfying plink, unscathed though the metalwork of the crown hadn’t faired intact – she’d been forced to bend it in order to get the gem free. But free it was, landing squarely in her hoof and she wrapped her towel tight around it.

Once again, Daring Do’s towel, the unsung hero of many adventures, saves the day. She removed her hat and popped the Jewel of Unity into the bowl before firmly seating it back on her head. Safest place in all of Equestria. Now... she thought, turning her attention to escape.

The platform was still dangling vertically from two of its four support ropes. It wouldn’t be easy, but she would have to climb the ropes all the way up to the tower before it collapsed...

It collapsed.

As she looked upward the entire remains of the tower fell from its fixture in the ceiling, coming crashing toward the courtyard. It was all Daring could do to leap clear towards the wide road that led to the enormous plaza, landing with a splash in three feet of water.

And then there was an almighty sound. A cross between a deep, bassy Thoom and a heavy, slow Whump. From the direction of the plaza. As Daring looked up, all of a sudden the water began to move. A strong current came from nowhere and swept her off her hooves, carrying her away along the road. What the heck?!

She was swept with frightening speed toward the plaza. Her waterlogged wings were useless and the saddlebags she’d insisted on retrieving became tangled with each other and weighed her down. She was a passenger on a thrill ride with no idea what the end might involve. Almost as she reached the plaza she passed through a curtain of water streaming down from above, and once on the other side of it, she saw why.

The entire roof of the cavern above the plaza had finally collapsed. Calm daylight streamed down from a void in the ceiling the size of a hoofball pitch. The centre of the lake-bottom in the valley had at last given way and the entire remaining freshwater content was currently cascading into the plaza and surrounding streets in a wide, ringed waterfall.

And the reason for the sudden current also became apparent, because the plaza itself was gone!

Almost the entire sunken circular area was no more, fallen into a gigantic sinkhole as the catacombs beneath had finally collapsed. Daring was swept forward and she felt the ground under her hooves vanish, pulled out of her depth in an instant. But the water from the lake had not yet filled up the subterranean caverns it seemed, and with the platform-pit in the centre of the plaza acting as its focus the water was being drawn down into the expansive network of chambers below, forming a huge whirlpool as though it were escaping down the drain in a bathtub.

Not good! If Daring couldn’t get herself out of the water, she’d be pulled to the centre of that whirlpool in moments and the current would drag her down and drown her. She flared her wings in desperation, but the current was too strong and she couldn’t get them far enough out to flap them. Her only hope was to find something to grab onto, and she looked around for anything that could save her.

There. Both of the statues had fallen when the ground of the plaza had given way beneath them. But over there, that one had toppled and come to rest on its back, with its legs jutting upward just above the surface. The current of the whirlpool would carry her past it, but it was dragging her toward the centre. She would pass by it, but be out of reach. With a last, mighty effort from her exhausted muscles, Daring fought the current which tried to carry her away and swam for it. If she couldn’t reach it, she was done for, but if she could...

By a narrow margin – which would no doubt become narrower once the book came out, she realised – she managed to seize hold of the closest of the statue’s legs. Which promptly broke off! But her momentum had been arrested and she had just enough time to discard the severed appendage and make a new grab. The second limb was sturdier than the first but not by much, and the current was still trying its best to drag her away, putting further strain on the stone. Already a large crack had appeared at the knee-bone and Daring was suddenly planning which of the other two legs would be her next move. Neither seemed to offer much long-term hope. She tried her wings again, but the sheer amount of fluid upon them left them drowned and she could gain no lift at all. Nowhere she could go, and nothing she could do.

The second leg broke and she made a desperate grab for the third, and felt the telltale vibrations of the ancient stone already starting to give way beneath her.

Suddenly, everything around her became a little darker. As though a cloud had crossed the face of the sun and, awkward though it was from her position, she turned her head and peered upwards toward the sky through the collapsed ceiling.

And was in no way prepared for what she saw.

Oh, you magnificent son-of-a-mule...

Hovering directly overhead, just above the level of the maw in the cavern ceiling but filling it enough to almost block out the sky... the University of Maresachusettes’ airship, the Machina, looking very much the worse for wear. The canopy had clearly been patched in many, many places using various mismatched fabrics, and slung beneath it by a hammock of sturdy ropes as thick as cables, a wooden ship-shaped, schooner-sized crew gondola comprising a large deck and a single lower living level. And there on the prow, was Caballeron. Even from three hundred meters below his intonation and his frantic gesticulations left little doubt as to what he was saying.

“Lower! Lower, you fools! The rope will not reach from this height!”

“If we go any lower we’ll be inside the cavern, boss!”

“I said lower, curse you!”

And so the blimp sank lower. The University’s airship was only of a modest size, especially compared to some of the luxury air-yachts so rarely seen in the skies over Canterlot and Manehatten – an educational establishment’s budget was only so large after all – but it still took some very careful manoeuvring to bring it down into the cavern. If the torrent of water falling from the lake were to catch the canopy or stabilisers just wrong, it might send it spinning out of control. Fortunately the cavern roof was still in the process of collapse, and so the hole was only getting larger. Finally, a break.

Whoa! The third leg of the statue snapped and was cast aside in favour of the sole remaining appendage. I didn’t mean that kind of break!

The dirigible came lower, and then lower still, until the huge, beautiful gas-bag was barely seventy meters above. And over the side, a long, thick rope was tossed, falling and unravelling towards her.

She reached out, but missed, and the end fell into the water, carried off by the current, but thanks to its attachment to the ship above it found a stopping place in the water a dozen meters or so distant, just as Daring felt the final statue leg start to break away.

She would only have one chance. If she missed, she was as good as drowned. Twilight would be lost. Caballeron and his airship were Racer-fodder. The only likely survivor of this doomed expedition would be Rainbow Dash, left alone to trek back to Equestria and tell of their ill-fated adventure.

The final leg crumbled and broke off in her hooves and Daring was carried by the current towards the rope. Spreading her hooves as wide as she could she reached for the slick, slippery line. And seized it. She clutched and hugged it to her as though her life depended on it – for it very much did – and quickly wrapped it around a foreleg to make it secure. Looking up, she gave an all-clear salute to the Doctor on deck.

“Up! Get us up at once!”

And slowly the blimp ascended. Daring was pulled from the freezing water with shirt, hat, three sets of saddlebags and one mystical enchanted jewel all safely in tow. The airship rose out of the cavern, above the tree-tops, and Daring realised that the rope to which she was clinging was being reeled in by the ponies above her. But there was no time for that. Daring scanned the valley to the southwest, searching the foot of the mountain for the cave in which Twilight was still surely clinging to life. She had to be. This wasn’t all in vain.

There.

She didn’t think her wings were back to their full potential yet... but she could make that. Just as long as she wasn’t bogged down by three sets of tangled-up saddlebags dangling from her. Slipping them off her back with some difficulty, she conspired a knot between the various saddlebag-straps and the rope such that they were all securely attached... and then just as she reached the perfect height above the tree-tops, she let go.

Her wings flared magnificently and she pumped them for all she was worth. Air rushed over her feathers and she felt real lift take hold for the first time in hours. She sprinted through the air, her body arrow-straight, her wings at the perfect angle to reduce air-resistance. She was a missile, and her target was right there in front of her.

And then from high above, from the peaks above the mountain pass, there issued forth an immense collective shriek, shrill and piercing. Daring risked a glance upwards, and saw a vanguard of twenty or thirty Racers diving toward the valley, the airship in their sights. They’ve seen you, Doc. Just hold ‘em off for a while, somehow.

Daring reached the cave entrance and billowed her wings hard, bringing herself to a rapid halt. Inside, Rainbow was still working, covered in sweat and looking exhausted, but Twilight still had colour to her. She was still with them.

“Twenny-three, Twenny-four, Twenny-five...” Rainbow heard her land and looked up. “Where they hay have you been!?” she hollered.

“I went for a swim,” she deadpanned as she rushed to Twilight’s side and knelt. The full story could come later.

“So? What’s the plan?” asked Rainbow, still working Twilight’s chest. “Please tell me there’s a plan?”

“There’s a plan. Step one? We save Twilight. Step two? We rescue Caballeron and his jerk-ponies from crashing into the side of a mountain and being pecked to bits by a horde of reptilian bird-monsters.”

“How’re we gonna do that?”

“One thing at a time,” said Daring, flipping off her hat and removing the towel. Before she went any further she fixed Dash with a serious, apologetic gaze. “Rainbow... I don’t know for sure if this is gonna work the way I hope, but... it’s the best I’ve got.” She opened the towel to reveal the gem-stone within.

“No way... is that the jewel from the crown?”

Daring carefully placed the jewel on Twilight’s brow, just above her eyes and beneath her horn. “Come on, Twilight...” she whispered.

A moment later the jewel began to glow with a fierce light, just as it had before. And just as before, it flashed.

And suddenly their surroundings were very different.

* * *

The crystal projected its light outward, using itself as a centre, and around them the walls of the cave appeared to become as wood. There were grains and knots and rings... it was as though they were within an entire room made of natural oak, except one that hadn’t been built – for there was no join or fixing to be found – one that appeared to have been sculpted. Hollowed out.

The room was circular, and on one side a staircase led upwards to an assumed upper-level, though the roof of the cave did not allow the illusion to persist in that direction. And on every other wall were wide shelves in columns three or four rows deep. All empty. And on the floor of the room, strewn around as though they had all simply been dumped from the shelves, were books. Scores. Hundreds. Piles and piles and piles. In complete disarray.

“Whoa,” whispered Rainbow. “Never thought I’d see this place again.”

“You know where we are?”

“This? It’s her home.”

“Home? This doesn’t look like the inside of that castle I saw. That was all... crystally.”

“Yeah... but this is where she really used to feel at home. Her library. Y’know, I think the first time we were all together was in this room...”

Their attention was drawn by a short, sharp sniffle. A little, subtle sob and they turned their gaze from the walls of the room – which they did not realise had captured their focus so completely – back toward the pony in the centre. Twilight was still out cold and clinging on. But stood watch over her, with an expression of shock and fear, was a foal.

Twilight in miniature, reduced to a filly half her age, lacking wings and oh-so-tentative in her expression and her movements. She reached out, her hoof pressed against the real Twilight’s side trying to stir her awake. Crying.

“Big Twilight? Big Twilight? Please... please wake up. I can’t... I can’t find it. Big Twilight please...” sobbed the foal. “I don’t want to go yet... please...”

“Twilight’s subconscious? She’s terrified,” whispered Rainbow.

Daring nodded. “If Twilight doesn’t make it, neither does she. It must be pretty scary.”

The foal looked up, terrified, and tried to both shield Twilight and hug her close for comfort. “Who...? Who’s there?!” she squeaked.

Daring stepped forward and took the lead. “It’s okay Twilight, it’s us. Daring Do and Rainbow Dash,” she said in a calm voice as close to ‘soothing’ as she had. “We’re your friends. Do you recognise us?”

The foal looked up at them and for a moment a glimmer of desperate hope crossed her eyes as she ‘looked’ from one to the other. She opened her mouth and seemed to flounder for words. “You... here...? You can hear me?”

“We can hear you. We’re here for you.”

The foal looked so relieved for the briefest of moments. Then she cried out in a pained wail, tears flowing freely. “Help me!”

“It’s alright. It’s alright. Don’t be afraid. We’re here to help. You’re Twilight’s subconscious aren’t you? Twilight’s heart isn’t beating in rhythm and her breathing pattern is too shallow. You need to get her heart beating properly again.”

“I know! I know!” wailed the foal, panic returning and she started to quiver. “But I can’t! I... I... I don’t even know where to start looking! There’s too many... it could be anywhere!”

“Whoa, okay, just relax,” said Daring, backpedalling a little. “What are you talking about? Too many what?”

“And what happened in here anyways?” asked Rainbow. “The Twilight I know would freak if she saw this mess.”

“I know! I’m supposed to keep it tidy in here. I don’t know what happened, and I can’t rouse her! It happened so fast: everything was absolutely fine. Big Twilight’s breathing was heavy and her legs were aching but nothing dangerous and then suddenly, BAM! All of the books came flying off the shelves and crashed onto the floor!”

“That must’ve been when the rock hit her,” said Rainbow Dash.

“Heavy concussion. Knocked so much sense out of her that her brain can’t repair itself. Doesn’t even know where to begin...” added Daring, surveying the countless books strewn across the floor of the library.

“Daring, check it out,” said Rainbow, stooping. She ‘picked up’ a book in her hooves and turned it to show the title. Scents and Sensibility: A Hundred and One Instantly-Recogniseable Aromas That Twilight Sparkle Enjoys. By handling the projection as though it were a real book, Rainbow was even able to flip it open and read it. “Freshly-baked cookies, roses on a wet Spring day, toothpaste... toothpaste? Really?”Foal-Twilight was sobbing now. “Then the fire started outside... and I knew what it meant... and that I was the only one who could stop it because no help was coming but it got so big so fast and I panicked and I didn’t know what to do and I froze! I can’t do this. If there were a few books out of place I could, but this... it’s way too much! There’s just no way I can get everything back in order before she... oh, Big Twilight...”

Daring and Rainbow half-turned and looked through the window on the wall of the library, to the projected scene beyond the illusory glass. Outside, Ponyville was ablaze. Wildfire tore through the streets beneath a crimson sky and every building was a skeletal husk of burnt timber and ashed thatch. A deep wall of flame seemed to ring the library on all sides, encroaching slowly, with smoke already creeping its way under the door.

“That’s brain-damage,” suggested Daring. “This must be the very core of her subconscious. Her brain’s last-ditch attempt to protect the vital functions at the expense of everything else. If the fire burns this place out, that’s brain-death.”She frowned, the pieces coming together. She looked back at the foal, still crying. “Somewhere in here there’s a book that tells Twilight how her heart is supposed to beat?”

“‘Correct Cardio and Proper Pulmonary Pace,’” said the foal.

“Then we need to find that now, and get it back on the shelf where it’s supposed to go.”

“But... like I said, I don’t even know where to start! I’ll never find it in time!”

“And like we said... we’re here to help,” said Daring. “We don’t know where all these books have to go, but I’m betting you do. And you can’t gather all of them up and get them back in order in time, but Rainbow and I... we can move pretty fast.”

“Plus, y’know, wings for the high shelves,” noted Dash.

“Come on. Let’s get to it!”

* * *

“What about this one?” called Dash. “‘The Sister, The Soldier, His Wife and Their Daughter’?”

“That goes in the Memory section, cross-referenced with Family!” foal-Twilight called back.

“This one? It’s called, ‘It’s Wrong If Ice or Fire,’?” asked Daring.

“That has to do with regulating body-temperature. It goes over in the General Health section, between The Shivering and Pride and Perspiration.”

“‘War of the Words’?”

“That sits in the Reasoning section, cross referenced with Arguments.”

“Oh, here’s a good one! ‘Singer Tailor Farmer Pie’,” Dash called out.

“That’s a collection of random facts about her friends that don’t fit into the main volume. It goes in Memory, in the Ponyville subsection.”

“We’ve got about half of them!” shouted Daring. She turned from placing her latest volume and cried out. “Rainbow! That book’s on fire!”Rainbow spun. Next to her the door to the library was ablaze – though it of course radiated no heat that she could feel – and on the floor near to it, one unlucky book was starting to give off smoke as its cover singed, licked by the flames.

Foal-Twilight screamed. “The fire... it’s getting in! Oh, no, no, no! I’m gonna start losing her!” she cried, racing around the room and moving as many volumes as she could away from the flame, sweeping them into a large pile more towards the centre. It kept them further from the advancing fire, for now, but it made more of a disorganised pile of everything they had yet to sort. It would slow them down. “We have to keep them safe for as long as possible. Every book in here is really important. Memories, experiences, likes and dislikes... everything that makes up who Big Twilight is. If one of these books gets burned, that part of Twilight is gone forever!”“What about this?” asked Rainbow, holding up the book that had had its cover mildly charred. “She’s not gonna forget how to be a poindexter or something because of this, is she?!”

“As long as we can still read the book, it’s okay! If any of the information inside gets destroyed...!”

“If these books start going up in smoke, that’s permanent brain-damage. Irreversible,” said Daring. The inferno’s advance seemed to be increasing in pace. In a minute or two the whole library floor would be afire, and that would be as good as game-over as every book that represented who Twilight was burned to ash. They had to slow it down. The fire represented Twilight’s losing struggle to stay alive, so to keep the fire at bay they had to... Oh, Yearling you’re such an idiot!

“Rainbow! The fire’s getting closer because Twilight’s still having trouble breathing and pumping blood to her brain! Get back to giving her CPR! Lil’ Twilight and I will keep trying to find that book!”

“Got it!” Rainbow called back, rushing over to Twilight and beginning her previous routine.

“Make sure you don’t let that jewel fall from her head! If it does, we’re gonna lose the ability to help her!”

“Right!” said Rainbow as she gingerly gave Twilight two mouth-to-mouth breaths, careful not to dislodge the stone.

Already the fire was becoming less rampant, its perilous advance slowed. But not reversed, and not quite halted. Still, they had more time to work with. She’s putting up a hell of a fight to stay alive. Good girl. Just hang on a little longer.

Suddenly, Foal-Twilight gasped in surprise, drawing Daring’s attention. “Did you find it?”

Foal-Twilight was dragging a hardback almost as large as she was from the periphery of the mess to the actual Twilight in the centre. The multicoloured cover was distinctive and unique among all of the other tomes they had seen thus far, and with a heave she pulled the book and propped it against Twilight’s flank as Rainbow continued to work her chest from the opposite side. “Rainbow? You gotta look after this. Make sure it stays as far away from the fire as possible. It’s the most important book in here.”

“More important than knowing how to breathe?” interjected Daring.

“It’s her decision, not mine,” said Foal-Twilight. “If this all goes wrong and we start losing her... this book has to be saved. No matter what. And if it goes very wrong... this has to be the last thing to go. This is the part of herself she wants to cling onto the absolute longest, until there’s nothing left.”

Rainbow stopped working on Twilight long enough to look down at the volume now in her care. On the front cover, in large yellow calligraphic script, the title read, My Best Friends. And it really was a big book.

“I got it,” said Rainbow quietly, with a nod.

“It’s not gonna go wrong if we get back to it right now!” cried Daring. “Come on! What about this one? ‘A Brief History of Thyme?’”

“That’s about the tastes she likes and dislikes, and known foods and spices that meet those criteria. It goes on the Taste shelf in the Senses section.”

Daring duly placed the book and then turned to survey the room with a familiar frown. “That book has to be here somewhere. We’ve only got a couple of dozen left to—”

“There it is!” cried Foal-Twilight, extending a foreleg. The book she seemed to be indicating was on the bottom of a scattered pile. A thick, hardback book with a deep (blood?)-red cover adorned with a large, pink heart, (of course.) But the fire had advanced to within scant feet of it, and was burning strong and fierce. Foal-Twilight scampered over towards it, but had to slow and stop before she was within reach, shielding herself from the flame with a hoof. With a dertermined grimace she tried to forge closer, tears of desperation forming at the corners of her eyes and Daring swore she saw the tips of her mane begin to singe.

But it was for nought, and with a cry of agony she was driven back. “The heat! The fire’s too hot! I can’t... I can’t reach...!” she wailed, panic beginning to set in, all hope lost.

“Whoa there, take it easy. Come away and don’t hurt yourself,” said Daring, trotting over. The flames after all were merely tricks of light as far as she was concerned, and she had no issue simply walking right up to them – or even into them as necessary – and scooping up the imperilled volume. Sure enough, the title read, Correct Cardio and Proper Pulmonary Pace. Daring calmed herself, breathed a hidden sigh of relief and turned. “See? No sweat. Now, where does it go?”

“General Health, right on the top shelf,” said Foal-Twilight, shivering with sick relief. “She... she’s gonna be okay. She’s actually gonna be okay!”

Daring placed the book on the shelf, and though such a simple act had no right to, it caused an immediate reaction. The fire started to retreat and dampen, slowly at first, but definitely, and finally it left the library completely, leaving none of the remaining few books on the floor in danger. Rainbow spoke up.

“Her pulse is getting stronger. She’s starting to breathe on her own again!”

“Gonna be okay. Gonna be okay!” chanted Foal Twilight. Then she launched herself at Daring and wrapped herself weightlessly around one of her forelegs. “Thank you. Thank you! If you hadn’t... I’d have been... we’d have been...” she trailed off, losing the end of several sentences to a series of thick sobs.

“Come on, we’re not done yet. Got a few more to put back,” said Daring.

“What about out there?” asked Rainbow, standing back on her hooves. “Ponyville looks a total mess.”

“Don’t worry, I can fix all that,” said Foal-Twilight. “All of the ingredients to put Ponyville back together are here in the library. If we’d lost stuff, there’d be bits of Ponyville I couldn’t replace, but we didn’t! Nothing out there can’t be rebuilt from what’s in here. This was all the really important stuff. Especially this,” she finished, reaching for the large hardback next to real-Twilight. When the filly struggled to heft it, Rainbow picked it up. On a whim, she flipped it open.

“Wow, cool. There’s all different sections for each of us. With pictures and everything! Pinkie Pie, me, Princess Celestia, Spike... whoa,” she breathed with a warm grin. And turned the book around. “Looks like she started a new section for you.”

Daring gawped. Sure enough, on a new page of the book was a picture of herself in her classic hat-and-shirt combo beneath a header reading, A. K. Yearling. There wasn’t a ton of information contained in the text beneath, but the basics were there. And there was a lot of blank space sitting idly, as though waiting for the chance to be filled. “Not just a friend... she... she thinks of me as one of her best friends?”

“Yep. Looks like you joined the club! Totally awesome.”

“I... I don’t know what to...” Daring raised a hoof to her eye. To scratch it. Definitely not to wipe any moisture away. “Okay... where does it go?” she asked, turning to Foal-Twilight.

“In Memory. On the highest shelf. Right in the middle.” She smiled. And then added, “Please don’t drop it.”

The book was returned to its rightful place. And as they looked around, the library looked a lot better than it had a few minutes previously. Almost all of the books were back in their proper spots on the shelves, neat and tidy and orderly.

“Thank you, both,” said Foal-Twilight. “I can manage from here. I’ll get the rest of these put back where they belong, fix up Ponyville good as new, and then I’ll see if I can bring her round. She... she’s so lucky to have amazing friends like you. And don’t worry, she knows it.”

The scene around them began to fade, the charming, homely library once more becoming a drab, stone cave miles from anywhere. The last of the detail was finally lost from sight, and Daring picked up the jewel from Twilight’s forehead, wrapping it within her towel once more.

Then there was little else to do but wait. A quick check confirmed that Twilight’s breathing and pulse were steady and strong. She simply seemed to be asleep now. Daring and Rainbow Dash sat next to her, watching over her, willing her to stir.

A quiet moment passed.

“Y’know... for about five minutes there... I wasn’t sure if you were coming back,” Dash admitted.

Daring nodded. “That’s okay. For about five minutes there I wasn’t sure I was gonna make it back. But I was never gonna abandon you guys. Daring Do isn’t the kind of pony who bails on her friends. Either of them.”

“Wow. You’re actually using the ‘F’ word now?”

“What can I say? It’s grown on me.”

Rainbow nodded. “And Daring Do knows that whenever she needs her friends, they won’t bail on her either, right?”

Daring looked up and locked Rainbow’s gaze. “Yeah. She knows.”

Daring looked down at Twilight. Her legs were starting to twitch softly and her head was lolling as though she were just beginning to surface from a long, deep slumber.“Hey... Daring?”

“Hmm?”

“Did we actually just save Twilight’s life by literally reassembling her brain from the inside thanks to an ancient magic jewel that can basically read minds?”

“Yeah.” She paused. “I think so.” She took note of Rainbow Dash’s expression. “What?”

“I’m just saying... when you come to write the book, maybe leave that part off the back cover. I don’t think the readers would go for it if they just read that out of context. It sounds pretty far-fetched.”

“What? It’s not that incredible. I’ve had way stranger things than this happen before.”

“Daring? This is totally in the top five.”

Daring looked at Twilight again, noting the little twitches had now become full leg-stretches, and as she watched, the prone Princess let out a low, strangled moan, inarticulate but apparently deeply satisfying.She shook her head slightly. “Top three,” she corrected.

Comments

[Meta Four]

A tried-and-true method to ramp up tension: the heroes have to accomplish something on a strict time limit, and something goes wrong every step of the way. And when you take steps to fix them, those go wrong, too.

This chapter didn’t show up in my Feed, for some reason.

[Chara Undertale]

And then from high above, from the peaks above the mountain pass, there issued forth an immense collective shriek, shrill and piercing. Daring risked a glance upwards, and saw a vanguard of twenty or thirty Racers diving toward the valley, the airship in their sights. They’ve seen you, Doc. Just hold ‘em off for a while, somehow.

FUCKING CLIFFRACERS!!!!!!!!!

[RoyalBardofCanterlot]

Trippy, but in a good way.

[GeneralSarcasm]

Amazing story, simply amazing.