Spectrum

by Sledge115

Act I ~ Chapter Eleven ~ Those On Pilgrimage

Spectrum

The Team

TheIdiot

“To die will be a great adventure.”

DoctorFluffy

Dedicated to my Uncle John. Rest in peace, Uncle John.

VoxAdam

Veni, Veni, Veni!

Sledge115

RoyalPsycho

TB3

Kizuna Tallis

ProudToBe

With Help From
RanOutOfIdeas

Guest Writing From

Jed R

Chapter Eleven

Those On Pilgrimage

* * * * *

“At the risk of sounding sentimental, I've always thought that some people leave an indelible mark on your soul. A mark that can never be erased.”
— Colonel Philip Broyles, Fringe, ‘One Night in October’

~ Third Day of the Month of Rophon, Year 3 of the Era Harmoniae ~

The Sun shone brightly overhead, hanging at high-noon and illuminating the great garden with gentle, golden beams of light. Beneath the trees were large, tidy, trimmed lawns of emerald-green grass, bordered by low-lying walls capped by short triangular crenellations. A wide, tiled pathway separated the two lawns, the branches of the apple trees shading the path up to a circular clearing covered in beatific mosaics, which depicted swirling clouds and beams of coruscating light. These formed elaborate patterns that led up to a large, multi-tiered marble fountain dominating the centre of the clearing.

Off in the distance were more copses, pathways that split off in other directions and, to the West, a domed gazebo of marble and sandstone. A gentle breeze barely disturbed anything, but did provide a pleasant cooling sensation for the garden’s occupants and some relief from the sun, framed by clouds thin and unmoving overhead.

Amira-bint-Ramaha sighed in contentment as she basked in shade to the clearing’s edge. She lay naked and relaxed on the cool stone, her flank resting on the stone wall that rimmed the surrounding lawns, her formal regalia settled in a neat pile on the wall. But she was feeling ambivalent despite herself.

“Ah, Amira,” the voice of her husband said, from her other side, as he reached his head and neck over her shoulder to rest against her. “I have missed you.”

“Mmh…” Amira half-sighed, half-huffed, leaning her head back a little. “Yes, my love.”

“Your visits are the only ray of hope I have in this place,” he continued, murmuring gently into her ear.

Were this any other time, Amira would have leaned in closer, maybe let Qabil make an attempt at nipping her ear, but this time she kept her pose, head still touching the stone.

“True, it would’ve been nicer, having the others with us,” Qabil then said, earning a slight twitch from Amira, “to share this moment with Tahira and Naiya. I’m certain Haifa would have loved the opportunity to join in our fun…” he added with a husky chuckle, head sliding further down her neck, his breath tickling the roots of her mane.

“I don’t doubt it,” Amira said, pulling her head away. Not very far, and not abruptly, but enough to put a gap between her and his touch. “But I came here because of something that only I could share with you.”

“Oh?” Qabil said in response, lifting his head up so he could see her face more easily. He looked confused for a moment, and nervous. Yet it was quickly replaced by roused interest, as he grasped her meaning. “And what is it you wished to say?”

The weight was beginning to press down on her shoulders again. Groaning softly, Amira rolled over, onto her back, so she’d be lying facing Qabil.

“Word came from the Malikah,” she began to explain. “Of a new duty expected from me. One which would require I shoulder it alongside the family’s protector.” She smiled bittersweetly. “Haakim is a good and gracious stallion, but he will never be you.”

“I’m surprised you asked him for help,” Qabil said, a hint of bitterness in his tone. It was quickly wiped away as he blinked, likely in awareness of how he had sounded. “You normally do such a good job of managing the household yourself.”

“Who else amongst stallions, if not a bachelor known for their…” In spite of herself, Amira found her tongue briefly catch on the word, “righteousness? I know you’d never give credence to any tales of infidelity in our family, but in society’s eyes, only my esteemed colleague may pass muster. And I do have such work to do, outside the household.”

“Indeed,” Qabil huffed. “I’m glad to know it is in such reliable hooves.”

“I had a choice between bringing him along, as my usual protector when overseas, Qabil,” Amira told him, “or considering the greater good of the family.” She paused. “On this particular occasion, I’ll be so surrounded by the Malikah’s entourage, one stallion less won’t make a difference… though I’d very much loved to have you along, with your fascination for the exotic,” she quickly added. “Our monarch told me I’m to act as consul not just to Equestria, this time, but to a whole world.”

Amira couldn’t help but feel elated as she saw her husband’s eyes widen in surprise.

“That… that’s wonderful news,” he said, sounding more shocked than impressed. “But why? What could possibly call the attention of the entire world?”

Should she tell him? Truth was, she still didn’t know everything herself.

“Celestia,” she said simply. “It is said she opened an artefact, a lantern entrusted to her by the Reindeer King for just such an event.”

“And what exactly does that mean?” Qabil inquired, pulling back while Amira shifted again to look him in the eye.

“The Malikah had a dream,” Amira said simply. “A most unusual dream, not in its content, but in how it came to her… By light of day, her mind was whisked away, to witness a night’s worth of visions in a heartbeat… I can tell you, standing next to her then, was… uncanny. However, in a break with tradition, she said her visions were quite clear. Head North, to a mountain hall, and meet there with Celestia, along with all the crowned heads and leaders of the world.” She chuckled softly. “Not a dream which requires your erudition to decipher, my sorcerer.”

“That is…” Qabil began, then paused, as he seemed to think it over. “Clearly some kind of magical influence.” Amira watched as he frowned. “And Celestia was the one to send it to the Malikah?”

Raising her neck, Amira inclined her forehead, for it to brush against his pursed lips.

“Why else would Celestia be at the heart of this?” Amira said. “Besides, though our monarch couldn’t turn to you personally for advice, there were still your apprentices… and, of course… your library,” she said, sounding a little bitter. “Consultation of the books confirmed that long ago, the Allfather gave the Sun Princess the key to make such a Call.”

She traced a hoof against one of his half-uprighted forearms.

“Amazing,” Qabil whispered, a small smile on his face. It then faded away. “And I’m here while the world changes.”

Amira sighed as she saw her husband’s frown change into a scowl. It was clear what he was talking about. This wasn’t the first time he’d complained about his situation – even if he did it less these days than he used to.

“And Her Majesty had to rely on the slow wits of Jabir and...” He cringed for a moment. “Hanan, before she could decipher what those dreams meant, did she?” But he then turned to her with a more hopeful expression. “Ah, but you let Her Majesty into the library, correct? And I’m sure it didn't take her long to figure out what that vision truly meant, once you were present... did it?”

“Mention not their names,” Amira said, cupping his cheek indulgently. “They’re not important. The knowledge stored in your forefathers’ collection elucidated the mystery… what little mystery there was, anyway.”

“Of course,” Qabil replied with a wide, proud smile, cupping her cheek in return. “I knew you would be the one to make the right decision. You are… you are truly brilliant.”

She smiled wanly, holding his gaze for an instant. But, more than a little involuntarily, she found her eyes leaving his, to fall upon the sundial by the wall.

“My love,” Amira said. “I fear the shadow’s line has almost reached its peak…”

Qabil sighed and his hoof fell back to the ground. The rest of his body followed until his head was lying there. The image was almost petulant, looking not unlike their children when they knew it was time for their lessons – that is, until he sidled back to Amira’s side.

“I truly hate this place,” Qabil grumbled as he pressed himself against her.

“I know, my love,” Amira said in response, resting her head atop his neck and nestling her cheek upon the back of his head.

His mane felt coarse and rough, compared to how she remembered it. It had only been a little over a year, since she last felt the touch of his coat and mane at their estate, yet he felt so rough. Easy to forget when they had reunited earlier, but here and now, much more noticeable.

They said nothing as Qabil returned the gesture, shuffling to press closer. Amira could feel his pulse above her as she brushed his mane aside. It was an odd sensation, but comforting, Once again, they were together.

“Attention, visitors,” a voice echoed through the garden, rustling and shaking everything but the solid ground. “Your allotted time has expired. Please prepare for your scenario to end.”

The world seemed to shimmer, like a mirage, fading away. The colours of the garden melted into one another as shapes, images and structures grew indistinct and liquid. The sky was first to go, and the horizon, fading into a dull grey stone. The garden shrank as the greyness flowed down over it, erasing the grass, the trees and finally, the beautifully carved walls and mosaic paths. Last to go was the fountain, revealing nothing more than a squat, monolithic rectangle of jet-black, reflective stone.

Their clothing had been laid down on the floor, though, in exactly the position it had been when resting on the now-vanished fountain.

“And now we are done,” Qabil sighed. Amira let out a much quieter breath, as she felt her husband raise himself from her. She did the same, standing back on her hooves.

“At least they give us a few minutes left to ourselves…” Amira muttered, rubbing the back of her neck. This simple gesture, in the empty sterility of the uncloaked Sunroom, suddenly made her feel conscious that she was still naked. “We dithered too long. Let’s hurry before they decide to come for us. I can help you make yourself presentable, if you will help me.”

Without awaiting his reply, which she expected would have been unreasonably reluctant, she went to gather both piles of their clothing. Hers had been left in a tidy stack. But she regretted to see the room’s uncloaking hadn’t tidied the mess Qabil had made of his uniform, strewn about in his eagerness to remove it – and not just so he could lie with her.

Although Amira couldn’t say she didn’t understand where he was coming from, when she bundled the black-and-white attire and shoved it his way. A coarseness similar to his coat’s current state was to be felt in the fabric.

“You shouldn’t crumple it like that, you know,” Amira commented, inspecting her own items to make sure the girdle and ornamental caparison weren’t out-of-shape. “I can’t imagine they leave the ironing up to servants, in this place.”

Qabil snorted. “As if it matters,” he said, plainly holding back a sulk. “At least that gives me something to keep me busy. Boredom’s the worst foe in Erebus.”

Having satisfied herself that her attire was in order, Amira looked towards him.

“Shall you help me get dressed first, love?” she said slyly. “Maybe you’d rather wear nothing than be seen in what you’ve been dealt, but surely my full splendour is for your eyes alone.”

“Of course,” Qabil replied, his small smile back on his face.

He walked up and began to pull the articles of her regalia into place. Amira could feel his hooves draping her with her caparison, and whilst it wasn’t as skillful as the staff back at the estate, she felt quite comfortable in her husband’s special care. Her headdress and her silk breast collar, even, she saw suspended in mid-air, held a few inches above the floor in a weak aura as he pulled them onto her.

“So, you still have some power here?” Amira inquired.

“Only a little, and in this room only,” Qabil said in response, sighing as he did so. “I can barely use the most basic of spells... but I have become more skillful in finding out new uses for them.”

“A shame,” Amira said. “Though a testament to your skills, that you’d find loopholes.” Something in what she’d just said gave her a thought. Two, in fact. One naughty, the other more regretful. “We could do so much more, if they gave you full use of your magic in this room… Nor am I alone in missing it,” she said, glancing back at him. “While the household might have splintered, most have chosen to stay, because they do love you. Our littlest one, in particular, how she misses the feel of your coils wrapping around her at night, my snake...”

“And I miss feeling her breathing as she went to sleep,” Qabil said, most forlornly. “Truly, I miss all of you… and everything else I’ve lost.”

Amira nodded sadly, remaining silent as he gingerly slid her ceremonial noseband around her muzzle, her last item. By his muzzle’s proximity to hers right then, he might have been expecting something more from her. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it, not at this time.

“Thank you...” she said quietly. “Now let me help you.”

Qabil nodded wordlessly and let her pull the banded shirt over his head and down his barrel. He then let her guide his forearms through the sleeves and button it shut. She gave him a wan smile as she placed the square cap on his head – which he immediately adjusted, with an almost paranoid expression.

She didn’t have the heart to tell him she knew the cap slipped.

“There you are,” Amira said, as her husband stood tall and proud as he could. Despite his less impressive attire, he still managed to carry himself with the dignity she recognised. “It may not be your gown and turban, but it’s all in the bearing. I take it that, with your ways, you can still draw fine company to yourself?”

“Ah, yes,” Qabil preened, holding his head high. “No, I cannot claim my most regal bearing hasn’t attracted the right sort of company here.”

“Now you’re just taking words out of my mouth, silly,” Amira scolded him gently. “But what kind of people, if you don’t mind my asking?” Her eyes rapidly darted to the walls. “I think it’s safe to speak, they have to respect our privacy in here. I’d heard something recently about… the Mikado’s student, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Qabil answered. “Kana Yugami is one of the more illustrious members of the incarcerated, and I have taken her under my wing, as it were.”

Amira couldn’t hold back a snigger at Qabil’s words. She had indeed seen him take full-grown stallions under his wings before. Literally, for all that he was no pegasus. She still felt guilty at how amusing she’d found the look of surprised terror in their eyes.

But those actions were not ones by which he’d harmed anyone. Just his idea of a joke – or more to the point, of showing off.

“She is a good filly,” Qabil continued, as they walked together. “If rather self-important and headstrong. I’ve seen her switch between being attentive and dutiful, abrasive and irritable. Not even our eldest has a demanding temper like hers.”

“Why, you haven’t lost your paternal instinct,” Amira smiled, her warmest words since she’d first greeted him again. Yet her smile did stiffen somewhat. “Knowing how they make things work around here, though, I doubt it’s coincidence you crossed paths. Even if she’s as haughtily confident as you say, she’s still a young doe.” She gave him a very serious look. “I know much it means to you to have followers. But please, don’t assume you need only count down the days until you can leave. You’re not the only one in here who waits.”

“I know, my dear,” Qabil replied, as he turned towards one of the featureless walls. “I know...”

Amira followed after her husband into the great, grey horizon. It took several strides for them to reach the wall’s face, the mere minutes it had taken when’y had arrived now feeling much longer in the silence.

“I suppose this it for the next few months,” Qabil said, “at least for me.”

“I’m afraid it shall likely be longer,” Amira said. “If whatever Princess Celestia has called us for is so important, I will be very busy.”

“Ah, of course.” Qabil rapped his hoof on the skin of the rock. “We’re done.”

The rock shuddered and pulled back, invisible seams opening up as a high section of the wall swung open. Beyond it lay a great cavernous hallway, rough, dull and endless as every other area in the great prison of Erebus.

Dim lamps lit the hall, the light only reaching part-way up until the darkness once again enveloped the high ceiling – which Amira assumed had to be up there somewhere, since it was impossible to see. The same darkness eventually took up the horizon, not because it wasn’t lit by the same lamps, but because the hall stretched on an impossible distance.

In front of them were two carriages, both attended by teams of armoured thestrals. One was a crude wagon, partly wooden, the planks of its body held together by pitted iron bands, but mostly it was metal, with the rest of the iron shaped into a cage large enough for a grown horse to stand in. Two more thestrals waited by a ramp leading into the open cage, armed with spears and eyeing Qabil closely. The other carriage, whilst simple, was much more comfortable-looking, painted in gold and purple akin to the colours of Canterlot. Only one thestral awaited aboard, and she was a mare wearing a far simpler uniform, wide-rimmed spectacles balanced precariously on her face.

“Here are our rides, then,” Amira said, placing a forehoof on her husband’s elbow,

It stopped him in his tracks. He turned back to face her, and though she knew he’d have died before admitting it, his eyes were undeniably moist. She couldn’t blame him. She could feel a tightness around her heart, not least at how she wasn’t sure when her work would next allow them to meet.

But she had to say something. Preferably something to alleviate the glumness.

Then Amira caught sight once more of the thestral with the wide-rimmed spectacles, and inspiration hit her. Funny, how an item of clothing can affect a person’s whole appearance, she thought. How come this one had never occurred to her before?

“You know...” Amira said, caressing Qabil’s cheek, leaning forward to whisper in his ear, low enough, she hoped, for the sensitive-eared thestrals not to pick up on. “Not sure I’ve ever mentioned this, but…” She gave his square cap an affectionate pat. “Black-and-white does look rather good on you. Beautiful as the stripes on a zebra stallion.”

And, to her own surprise, she gave a small, sincere giggle. She didn’t care how corny the line might sound. For a split second, it reminded her of what it had been like, to be a young maiden foolishly in love. She felt even better when she saw Qabil preen again at her words.

“I suppose this shall be goodbye for much longer, if the world’s about to be shaken up,” Qabil said, leaning in. “I hope the shaking will give me a chance at slipping out...”

Amira said nothing, merely humming in agreement until Qabil closed in and kissed her. It wasn’t particularly passionate, but neither was it chaste. It lasted for a few seconds more. Then they pulled apart.

“I’ll return the soonest I can,” Amira promised, tasting her lips. “If possible, I’ll put forth a request with the Sun Princess so I can visit you straight after this summit… Goodness knows when I’ll be able to make it next.” She lightly bumped her forehead to his. “Now. Take good care of yourself. And don’t be too wicked, alright?”

“Of course… my love,” Qabil said, turning away to climb up the ramp, into the prison wagon.

One of the armed thestrals shut the iron-barred door on him, latch falling into place, and removed the ramp, while the other barked an order. Then the cage-wagon pulled away, carrying Qabil down the hallway. Amira watched him go, as she had every time she visited. The first time had been difficult, painful. Now, it felt almost incidental. She was simply watching her husband move further and further out of view.

Amira sighed one last time, the heaviest sigh she had released on the trip. Then she climbed into the ornamental carriage, nodded to the bespectacled mare and looked ahead, as she was carried off in the other direction, back to the surface.

There was one thing she hadn’t told her husband.

‘The books I read state the Call can only be given when things are at their most dire.’

~ Canterlot, Equestria ~ Third Day of the Month of Rophon, Year 3 of the Era Harmoniae ~

“Here we are, love,” Shining smiled, his voice almost lost beneath the train’s whistle. “Home. Done a fine job cleaning up, haven’t they?”

“They always do,” Cadance smiled back, looking out the window nonetheless.

And it was true. To see the spotlessly pristine spires and turrets of Canterlot gleaming in the morning light, Cadance herself would never have suspected that only three months ago, many of those same surfaces had been coated with green wax – leftovers from the Changeling invasion deemed too superficial to delay their wedding any further, but ever-lingering on the edges of the festivities.

“But, ‘home’, you call this, Shiney? Our crystal subjects won’t be pleased to hear it.” Cadance elbowed her husband. “After all, home is where the Heart is.”

“Naturally,” said Shining. “But I’m not the one who’s got a great big Crystal Heart and an entire city up North as my birthright. I’m just your knight-in-exile, milady.”

“Oh, be quiet, you,” Cadance teased him, as they stood up.

Yet she knew life in the Crystal Realm didn’t mean quite the same to Shining as it did to her, even though when they’d got married, they’d both known the day to reclaim it might come. Him pledging to follow her wherever she went was a different matter, for young lovers to whom the Realm’s return seemed a faraway, mystical prospect, than to have lived it.

Then again, Cadance occasionally wondered if she’d truly understood, in youth, what Celestia had told her that in becoming an alicorn, she was accepting her place as heir to Princess Amore, last ruler of the Crystal Realm.

Celestia herself was waiting for them on the platform. Tall, regal and bright as ever, yet Cadance, far better-accustomed to her aunt’s mannerisms than Twilight had ever been, thought she saw a pool of sadness in Celestia’s eyes.

Shining saw only the Princess he’d sworn to protect.

“Your Highness,” he said, bowing.

Cadance did likewise. She sensed how reassuringly familiar it felt for Shining to be back in Celestia’s presence. Where she had chosen a Princess’s duties and now carried them out every day in the North, Shining, though he still bore the title of Captain of the Guard, no longer lived directly in the line of that duty.

If he regarded it as a sinecure to have been named Captain of the entire Royal Guard since Luna’s return had made the Lunar Guard go from ceremonial unit to one of equal measure to the Solar Guard, though, he’d never once complained.

“Princess Cadance. Captain Armor. Welcome back to Canterlot. Do get up, please...” Celestia said warmly. “And let’s walk. Our ride awaits outside the station.”

A leftwards glance told Cadance that Autumn Gem had begun overseeing the matter of moving their luggage from the Crystal Express to the waiting carrier-pegasi Celestia had brought along. Satisfied their belongings were under their majordomo’s trustworthy watch, Cadance followed after her aunt, Shining by her side.

“I trust you had a sufficiently relaxing trip?” Celestia asked them. “I’m glad you took the time before leaving to pack for a long stay. We shall have much business to attend today, and in the days to follow.”

“Slept like a log,” said Shining. “But that’s funny, actually, Your Highness. We… well, we half-imagined Princess Luna was going to, um, ‘come in’ during the night and tell us what to expect once we got here.”

“Aunt Celestia, where is Aunt Luna?” Cadance said. “And Blueblood?”

Celestia stopped walking, not two paces from the station entrance. Silhouetted within the marble archway, she craned her neck, looking back at them.

“Prince Blueblood’s been busy,” she said. “As has Luna. At my behest, he spent the whole of yesterday sending invitations and overtures to his friends amongst the gentry, bidding their presence at the Palace as soon as possible, for a few… parties.” She’d struggled to get that last word out. “When I left them earlier, Luna was penning a report with his help, ironing out the choice of words he’d use to solicite their support.”

Shining glanced at the clock atop the archway. “Ten past eight, and Blueblood’s up? Gosh, it must be awfully serious.”

“Shining,” Cadance hissed. But he was right, of course. And that scared her.

For her part, Celestia just nodded. “I’m afraid it is,” she said. “A lot happened in the space of one day, since Luna gave you that message. Revelations and ordeals, well into the night. That’s why Luna didn’t contact you again. We needed to be sure we’d seen the end of it.”

“And… have we?” asked Shining, flabbergasted.

“No.” Celestia’s voice was tired. “But we can’t wait for the answers. No-one else is going to resolve this for us.”

Cadance approached her. “You said revelations and ordeals, Aunt Celestia,” she whispered. “What sorts of revelations, what sorts of ordeals?”

“Many. You heard about the strange creature,” Celestia told them. “Well, there was much more where he came from. Unknown worlds, parallel realities. Ancient secrets and long-lost relatives. A summons to call upon the whole world to bear witness. Deadly confrontations with malevolent doppelgängers.” Seeing their faces, she chuckled. “You know, the usual.”

~ Ponyville, Equestria ~

“Isn’t this the darnedest thing,” said Alex, stirring his coffee. “When this war began, I vowed the day would come that I stood in the Palace of Canterlot. Never in a million years did I imagine Celestia would invite me there.”

“You feel up to the journey?” Lyra asked, from behind him. “I mean, yes, it’s a pretty short trip by sky-carriage, but I’m not sure you’d like that. But it is pretty short by train, too, despite what Rainbow Dash might say. Unless you’re taking the Friendship Express, for the ‘scenic’ trip at night.”

“Huh?” Alex was still staring out the window. “Oh, right. Yeah, train sounds good. But teleportation’s a thing here, isn’t it?”

“Not every unicorn can do it,” Lyra reminded him. “Even the Princesses get drained of spell-power if they use it too often.”

“Sure, and it’s a pity, because it’s darn sight useful in battle,” Alex commented. “Except I thought Celestia had borrowed that, that medallion off the chancellor-guy? She could use that to get us there quick.”

“Oh. Yeah, she did.”

He swiveled his wheelchair around, tearing his sight away from the outside world, but kept himself in the sunlight as it fell across the curtains.

“Hmm…” Alex huffed, then took a sip of coffee.

Halfway across the bedroom, Lyra stared at him silently, leaning upon her crutches.

“And how are you holding up?”

Lyra blinked. “Me? I’m okay. Doctor Stable said I might still feel disorientation for a few days. Getting your nerves paralysed by a spy out for your blood leaves a trace, you know. But nothing too lasting, he says.”

“Not physically, anyway...”

“You should be thinking about yourself,” Lyra said tensely. “Those burns on your chest, they’re not gonna just fix themselves up by magic.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Lyra sat on his unoccupied bed. “That wasn’t a joke, Alex. Until the doctors work out the precise structure of that attack-spell, healing you is gonna drag out. So I hope Celestia is planning on using the Medallion to get you to Canterlot. They’ve got special healers there who know things. Come to think, given all the dark things which go on around Ponyville, it’s criminal negligence we haven’t got a few of our own in this hospital...”

“No doubt that’s something Redheart was counting on,” Alex commented, “while she was impersonating my nurse. How is she doing, by the way? Your Redheart.”

“She seemed okay when I saw her last night,” Lyra said, reluctantly letting him distract her. “But, didn’t you meet her? After the Princess had explained things to Nurse Cross.”

“Yeah, we had a quick chat,” Alex grunted. “I’ve already forgotten what we talked about… Fuck, though, it was surreal. Almost as bad as talking with Princess Celestia. I get the whole ‘parallel-universe’ thing, but… first time I’ve spoken to two different versions of the same person just minutes apart.”

Lyra seemed to be getting used to his swearing, as she didn’t flinch. “Well, perhaps you can teach us a thing or two,” she grinned weakly. “We’re all gonna be doing it.”

“All of you? Not quite,” Alex said somberly. “There’s a war on, you know.”

“Believe me, after Redheart… that’s hit me like a ton of bricks.”

Alex shook his head. “I don’t get you, Lyra. You should have let me at her. As if I was going to let Celestia stop me. No offense. But you…”

“Would…” Lyra paused. “Would your Lyra have let you?”

He held onto his cup of coffee with both hands, feeling the heat slowly dissipate in his palms, until he finally answered.

“No...” he said. “No, she wasn’t like that. She always saw the best in people. No matter what, no matter how much the world kept letting her down. But I’m not her… I’m sorry.” Lyra and he shared a look. “And… and I don’t want you to go through what she did.”

She got up and, although it made her hobble, walked over to pat his hand.

“I won’t,” Lyra told him. “I’m not her, either. We’ve not really been friends yet, Alex… but I’d like us to be. Even if we’ve only got a short time.”

“Indeed,” Alex said. Carefully, he placed his cup on the windowsill, so he could take her hoof between his hands. “You get that, once UNAC and the PHL learn I’m alive, they’ll want me back on the field. I’m still a soldier. I can’t turn away from that.”

“Yes,” she said quietly. “But… after you leave, I don’t think I’m going to be staying in Equestria.”

In three days marked by twists and turns, this was the third biggest shock to Alex since finding himself in this Equestria and discovering his locket was missing. Yet his shock came out subdued, as if he had no more left in him for an outburst.

“... The hell?”

Lyra held his hands reassuringly. “You’ve got your war to fight, Alexander Reiner,” she said. “And if I can’t help you the way other-me did... perhaps I can help you in another way. I don’t know why you don’t wanna talk about that picture in Waggoner’s book, but I know I can’t press you for it. I also know it’s important, and I want to find out why.”

Her words from the previous night came back to him.

“She’s your mother, isn’t she? The one you told me of. And that locket’s got to do with the last time a human came to Equus.”

“Lyra…” he said, pulling his hands away. “Just what are you planning?”

The little green unicorn walked to the window. “I’ve told Bonbon. She wasn’t happy, of course, but she knows me too well to try stopping me. Though she did say I’ve outdone myself this time for hare-brained schemes.” This was told with a smile, yet a rueful one. “And that’s why I don’t want to do it alone. I can’t, anway. I’m gonna need to get the Princess’s help on this one.”

Alex sighed, rubbing his head. “Well, you can tell me about once we’re in Canterlot, then. Could you pass me my coffee, please? I feel like I’m gonna be downing another two cups at least, just to get me through the day.”

* * * * *

“What could they be talking about in there, I wonder?”

Although they’d all been together at the cafeteria for nearly an hour, practically since visiting times opened up at the hospital, Time Turner was the one who broached the question that all had been dancing around.

In response to her father, Sparkler shrugged non-commitally.

“It’s Lyra and a human, Dad,” she said, picking idly from her plate. “Could be about anything. Though, given what she told me last night, probably not many happy things.”

Bonbon seemed about to add something, but Zecora cut across her.

“Doubtless the human laments the locket we must seek,” Zecora said, brooding. “For without it he fears we are weak. Though at last we did subdue the Falseheart, in the end she played her part.”

Privately, Amethyst suspected that while Zecora had been restored to normal, a good bit of her venom towards the other-Redheart stemmed from getting her precious stripes inverted by the poison-joke bomb.

“Well,” said Turner, while Derpy and Bonbon looked pensive. “Same old mess, really. You can’t go a week in this town without something weird happening.”

“Trust me, I think it’s different this time,” said Bonbon. “Lyra’s said that as soon as Celestia comes back, she’s going to Canterlot, and taking the human with her.”

“What, without saying goodbye?” Derpy said, aghast.

“Okay, maybe not like that,” Bonbon admitted. “In fact, I might go, too. She’ll have to let me. I mean, I did give her an earful for leaving me hanging these past two days.”

“Lucky for me you did something about it,” piped up an extra voice.

It was Redheart, wheeling up to their table in a wheelchair of her own, her breakfast tray in her lap.

“Morning, Red,” said Turner. “Good to see you on the mend.”

“Doctor Stable wants to keep me in for another day,” Redheart said, grimacing as she placed the tray on the table. “Can’t say I blame him. Whatever the… impostor pumped me with, it was nasty stuff. Gads, my head’s still foggy...”

Sparkler frowned. “Here’s something I’m still feeling foggy about,” she said, addressing Bonbon. “Just how did you know to get Redheart out of there?”

Typically, Bonbon sighed. “As I’ve said it before,” the candymaker began, with the exasperated air of one explaining things to an inattentive child, “it all started when I went to the Forest Rangers and the Chief gave me this picture,” she said, pulling said item out from her mane, “made by our old friend, her snooping son Featherweight. And what do I see? Behold, my girlfriend and Twilight’s gang, pulling an unconcious creature out the Forest.”

“Huh,” said Sparkler. “Shame he didn’t snap a picture of fake-Redheart, while he was at it.”

Bonbon nodded uninterestedly. “So, I did some poking around myself. Went to ask Mrs. Cake how she copes with Pinkie taking breaks unannounced. That’s when she told me an odd story about Redheart…” She glanced at said mare. “The fake-Redheart, and a Guard. Apparently, she’d gone by Sugarcube Corner, but left very suddenly, before her date had even arrived.”

Redheart spoke up. “The Guard. Isn’t that the guy we met at the lobby?”

“Yeah, that’s him, can’t remember his name right now… something with ‘ice’ in it.”

“Where’d he go?” Redheart asked, concerned. “Think he’s still here in the hospital?”

“Nah, I doubt it,” Bonbon said, lying the picture facedown. “You saw those thestrals Luna brought in for the night shift. He must’ve returned to Canterlot with the Princesses.”

“Oh...” Redheart, who hadn’t taken a bite from off her tray, leaned back. “That’s a shame... He seemed a nice fellow. It must’ve hurt terribly, being informed he’d been invited on a date by an impostor.”

“That’s why I thought we were dealing with Changelings at first,” Bonbon said. “Now, I almost wish we were.”

“Hold up, Bonbon,” Sparkler raised a hoof. “You still haven’t explained how you found Red.”

Bonbon glared at her. “If you must know, Missy,” she growled. “Living with Lyra, you learn to keep all sorts of useful things in your saddlebags. Abseiling equipment, that’s one thing, but most of all, you need medical gear, when your silly girlfriend’s as risk-prone as mine.”

While Sparkler didn’t like the tone, what Bonbon said made sense. “I get that,” she agreed. “Mom and Dad are the same.”

This elicited snorts from Bonbon, Redheart and Zecora. Turner coughed embarrassedly and looked away. Derpy just smiled blissfully.

“Say,” Redheart queried. “Where’s Dinky?”

Derpy continued to smile, yet her mismatched eyes were melancholic. “Off playing with her friends,” she explained. “We… didn’t think she needed to hear everything.”

“Point taken,” said Redheart. “Doctor Stable told me he gave Sutra leave today as well. There’s been a lot to take in… I don’t know how I’m coping with it.”

“It’s not just you,” Zecora said, grabbing an empty glass. “None of us do.”

* * * * *

When the electric-blue swhirl of a nascent portal appeared in Alex’s bedroom, it was not unexpected to either he or Lyra, but it was still somewhat startling, just the same. Then Princess Luna stepped out, the special Medallion around her neck.

Lyra bowed, a bit unsteadily on her crutches, earning a nod from Luna.

“Good morning, both of you,” Luna said formally.

Alex whistled, staring at the vanishing portal. “Pity there’s no cake.”

“Pardon?” Luna said, blinking.

“I… ah…” Alex grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, video game reference. You wouldn’t get it.”

“You’d be surprised,” Luna said, smiling surreptitiously. “But if we are talking about cake, wrong princess. You should try my sister.”

“Princess Luna,” said Lyra, raising herself. “Where’s the Prin– where’s Celestia?”

“My sister is making arrangements in Canterlot,” Luna explained. “She sent me here to sort matters with the hospital management. Your transfer, for one,” she told Alex. “And the prisoner’s. I’ve only just finished drawing up basic plans with Prince Blueblood.”

“Oh,” Lyra said softly. “That’s a shame... I really wanted to talk to her.”

“People always do, Madame Heartstrings,” Luna sighed. She held down a yawn, visibly. “Ugh… I expect this will take an hour or two… Once back in Canterlot, I shall be, how do they call it, ‘hitting the sack’. I wager Selene and Gibbous will be relieved to get off duty, too.”

Alex wheeled over. “So we are going to Canterlot. What about Rainbow Dash?”

“I already sent her a message in her sleep, last night,” Luna replied. “She will be meeting us here. We’re calling in all the Element Bearers to the Palace this afternoon. They need to be informed of what’s happened here. In the meantime, I suggest you say your goodbyes to whomever you want to. You in particular, Madame Heartstrings.”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Lyra said quietly. “Bonbon told me she’s coming along.”

“Verily?” Luna tilted her head.

“Only for a few days. Says she’s got to keep an eye on me.”

Luna frowned. “Lyra, you know there are things she cannot know of, like Galatea. We are risking enough as it is, letting you and Twilight’s friends in on that secret.”

“Maybe,” said Lyra. “But… I think she deserves to know I’m okay.”

“Especially,” Alex grunted, “after what you said about leaving Equestria.”

It was apparent Luna was surprised by this as he’d been.

“What was that you said?”

“I’ll explain it all,” Lyra said uncomfortably. “To Celestia.”

Again, Luna sighed. “Alright.” She walked to the door. “But no more surprises, please. There’s a big summit coming in a week. We cannot afford not to get our facts straight.”

~ The Mansion of the Proxenos of Delos, Republic of the Tauren Isles ~ By the Equestrian Calendar, Third Day of the Month of Rophon, Year 3 of the Era Harmoniae ~

“Rise and shine, Miss Flutterbird,” whispered a sibilant voice. “Rise and… shine.”

Groaning, Fluttershy forced her sleep-crusted eyes open, to find a mad-eyed, goat-faced creature hovering above her.

“Morning, Discord,” she said wheezily. “Is… is it morning?”

As far as she could tell, while it wasn’t all dark in the room, thanks to an orb of light floating by Discord, the Sun hadn’t come up yet.

He took seat at the foot of the bed, making a show of consulting a pocket-watch he’d drawn from who-knew-where.

“That all depends on when is morning, my dear,” Discord said. “In far-off Ryuppon, it’s now mid-afternoon, five or so. Just an hour too late for teatime. Over in the heart of Zebrica, it’s eleven at night. Definitely not morning. In Canterlot, it’s the complete opposite. And here in Delos, the clock’s just struck six.” He chuckled. “Well, it would have... if water-clocks ticked! One thing I’ll say for a spherical world, I love how time’s never the same anywhere.”

It took some gears turning in her tired mind to unknot all this.

“Oh, my!” Fluttershy squeaked, as realisation took her. “That means it’s eleven o’clock in Canterlot right now!” She threw the bedclothes off, panicked. “My friends will be so worried, wondering where I’ve been! I didn’t think we’d be gone all night–”

She was stopped as the draconequus pressed a finger to her lips.

“Shh, easy there,” Discord grinned. “Nopony’s more deserving of a rest, my dear, and all my effort fighting the Krampus these past few days, too, would have gone to waste, unless…”

Unusually for him, the sound of uncertainty kept him from finishing.

“Unless, what?” Fluttershy murmured.

He sighed, removing his finger. “Well, let’s just say, it sounds like my hour has come again.”

“You mean because you want to fight Celestia,” Fluttershy said, straightening herself. “The other one.”

“Yes, I do.” Discord nodded. “Though I am gonna have to get a bit better first,” he added, tapping his poultice. “And… I can’t deny, I was hoping our vacation would last longer.”

“Those zebra dancers were something,” Fluttershy agreed, surprising herself. “Even if it was maybe just a teensy bit too loud.”

“Ah, there’ll be plenty of zebras and others at the Hall of Unity.” He smiled. “Actually, that makes it so much better. Why go to them, when they can come to us? Now come on, let’s have breakfast.”

Before she could get up, she saw him push a platter across the bed towards her.

“I had this brought up for you.”

“Discord,” Fluttershy began, looking at him, “you really didn’t have to…”

“Now stop with that,” Discord said softly, raising a claw. “If you keep saying things like that, people will start believing you, Fluttershy.”

“But… what about Lord Darkhoof and Mistress Unathi and Thymos? If you brought up breakfast for me, does that mean they’re up too?”

“Of course,” Discord said carelessly. “The day starts early in Delos. Just before dawn. But they’ve got other things to deal with today. It’s the day Darkhoof’s elder son returns from the Labyrinth and becomes a bull.”

Nodding slowly, Fluttershy reached for a cheese pie, taking a bite. “Mmh,” she said, munching. “Wish we could’ve seen that…”

“Why, Fluttershy. You surprise me.”

“Well, it’s just, they haven’t seen each other in two years, have they?” Fluttershy asked. “Lord Darkhoof and his son. That’s what he said. And here he is, about to leave home… Shouldn’t we… you know, invite him to travel our way? So he can stay a bit longer and still not be late.”

Discord waved this off. “He’d never agree. I know Minotaurs. They don’t believe in doing things the easy way, not when it’s to do with honour or something.”

“Really?” said Fluttershy. “That’s not how Iron Will did things.”

“You heard Darkhoof, that Iron Will’s a fraud,” Discord said. “Now. May I have a bite?”

Fluttershy let him, and he chose a sesame-topped breadroll. They just ate quietly for the next few minutes, not say a word. Until it was Fluttershy, not feeling her usual self this morning, who broke the silence.

“Discord…” she said tentatively. “When we arrive in Canterlot, we’re, um… I’m sure that’s when you’re gonna meet Alexander Reiner.”

Discord stopped eating. “The human.” It wasn’t a question. A dangerous glint appeared in his eyes. “The one who attacked you.”

“He… he didn’t mean to.”

“Didn’t mean to?” Discord almost spluttered his roll out. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. And I know ridiculous! Nobody attacks without meaning to.”

“He thought I was somepony else,” Fluttershy said, one hoof caressing Discord’s shoulder in the hope of calming him down. “After what Luna showed us in his mind, well… if it were me, I might want to attack me too.”

“Ah...”

As Discord contemplated this, he relaxed.

“Alternate dimensions, evil copies and more…,” he mused. “Gotta say, in hindsight, picked the best time for me to stop being a statue. I’m enjoying this world.”

What he’d said perked Fluttershy’s ears. She’d wondered before, but never asked…

“What was…” Fluttershy said, caressing him a little slower. “What was it like, as a statue?”

Discord looked at her. “Oh, that? If Celly had wits, she wouldn’t have put me in her garden. She could have sent me amongst all the statues they got here, and none’d be the wiser.”

“You know what I mean, Discord.”

He sighed, putting down his third, half-finished roll.

“Calm,” Discord said at last. “It’s like being asleep, only in reverse. No-one ever remembers falling asleep, do they? Well, with this, you don’t remember being awake. Not exactly. I could hear everything going on around me, see it too, sort of... but I never could quite recall what it was like, being a part of it. Like that was the dream.”

“It doesn’t sound so bad…” Fluttershy said, nuzzling him.

Discord snorted. “Maybe to you it doesn’t. But just because you can’t remember, doesn’t mean you don’t want something. I’m a creature of Chaos, and I couldn’t lift a finger. That hurts, Fluttershy. It hurts a lot.”

There was nothing she could say. She huddled close to him, in silence, her pie forgotten.

Eventually, Discord coughed awkwardly. “Come on, let’s finish up. I told Philip we’d be leaving this morning. We’re going to have to say goodbye at some point.”

Fluttershy glanced up to meet his gaze. “When did you say Celestia was expecting us?”

“Two o’clock, Canterlot Time.” Discord checked his pocket-watch. “Less than three hours from now. I could buy us time, but… I don’t think you’d want me messing with the Sun. Not in my condition, heh.”

“Your condition’s not so bad…” Fluttershy shifted on the bedspread. “I think Lord Darkhoof can give us another hour.”

He stared down at her, meeting her eyes. What he saw there made him smile.

“Yeah,” Discord said. “Yeah, I think he could.”

~ Canterlot, Equestria ~

The Princess of Love took a deep breath.

“This is…” Cadance started. “Truly an unsettling tale, Auntie.”

Her aunt hadn’t been exaggerating, back at the station, when she’d listed the previous day’s revelations and ordeals. Yet after hearing about it in exhaustive detail for over two hours – punctuated by the occasional question, or pauses for her and Shining to gather their wits – Cadance still had trouble believing any of it had been real.

“It is,” Celestia said, one forehoof tapping her desk, the other supporting her head. “But alas, that makes it no less true. Within a week, we will all gather at the Hall of Unity. And the world shall have to make a decision on how it must proceed.”

“We’re not leaving them hanging, right?” said Shining, pulling his chair closer. “We can’t.”

Celestia smiled sadly. “My dear Shining,” she said. “In our world alone, there are more injustices than I can count, or hope to right. I, who have lived many hundreds of lifetimes. Compared to that, the work I and your sister do in Equestria is merely scratching the surface. Even after she helped bring back my own sister, or subdue Discord, Chrysalis, and Sombra. The Elements of Harmony shine a light in the darkness, but they cannot fight a war for us.”

“But this is different,” Shining said. “There’s an enemy out there calling itself Equestria. It’s the only Equestria these human beings have ever known, and it’s doing… this to them. We’ve got to restore Equestria’s honour!”

“I’d like nothing better.” Celestia got up, to walk around her desk. “But if we act, we must act with full awareness of what we’re taking upon ourselves. Because if the Empire finds us, they’ll do everything in their power to stop us. That is why the world needs to be warned.”

“Isn’t there another way?” asked Cadance. “Couldn’t we work in secret, helping the humans from behind the scenes?”

Celestia headed to a chest of drawers. “There was a slim hope of that, yes,” she said, opening it up. “Unfortunately, not only did the Empire manage to send an agent after Captain Reiner, evidence shows they now know we exist.”

Horn shining, she pulled out what, curiously, looked like an ordinary briefcase. Turning, Celestia set it down on her desk, rattling it open to reveal an embedded typewriter.

“Before we left Ponyville,” Celestia explained, “the last thing Luna did, after reading the Guards’ reports, was to check Nurse Redheart’s house for clues the S.M.I.L.E. agent might have missed. She discovered this.”

Cadance and Shining peered at the typewriter-briefcase. Apart from the strangeness of a typewriter built into a briefcase, though, hardly anything seemed unusual about it.

“What is it, Celestia?” enquired Cadance.

“Look at what’s written on the scroll,” Celestia said, angling the case. “Be wary, you may not like what you see.”

Shining saw it before Cadance.

“‘Her Ladyship, Archmage Twilight’,” he read, sucking in a breath. “But…”

“Yes,” Celestia said grimly. “The infiltrator used this device to contact her superiors, and they replied to her, across universes, all in the space of a few minutes. What we have here is a highly sophisticated instrument I’ve never seen before, except in hypothetical diagrams. This is an ansible.”

“It…” Hesitantly, Cadance touched the device, pulling away almost instantly, as if it might burn her. “It feels so… normal… there’s crystal in it… yet I barely sense any magic…”

“I imagine it works according to a fusion of magic and technology,” said Celestia. “Powered by a source at the heart of the Equestria which built it, maybe even the same source as this ‘Barrier’ of Reiner’s… it’d be extraordinarily difficult to craft such a device…” She glanced at Shining. “But Twilight’s one person I know who could do it.”

Shining’s lips had thinned. “You cannot show this to her,” he whispered. “The strain of knowing ‘she’ built this for the wrong reasons… she’d break down completely.”

“I’ve taken that into account,” Celestia reassured him. “Blueblood’s organising get-togethers this week for the biggest industrial powerhouses and sharpest technical minds of the gentry. He won’t be able to lay it all out for them at once, of course, but he’s sure to catch the interest of his engineer friends, like Awesome Fire, or Shieldwall.”

Cadance saw Shining cross his forehooves. “Awesome Fire?” he said. “Wasn’t he the chief engineer aboard the Starspear?”

“That is so,” Celestia said cautiously.

Shining sniffed. “Then he helped Blueblood steal– Sorry, borrow that ship from under Captain Dendrite’s nose all those years ago. At least, Dendrite claims it was under his nose… Point is, there are people I wouldn’t trust to do their duty as much as others.”

“I understand why you’d consider duty especially important at this time,” said Celestia. “Yet remember, in this crisis, help may arrive from the least likely of places.”

Cadance slumped in her chair. “To be honest, Auntie... after you told us the Concordia Maxima might summon the Changelings, I’m not sure I’ve found anything else you said even half as shocking…”

“It’s simple bad luck that Chrysalis is their current Queen of Queens,” Celestia commented. “I’ve known less rapacious Queens than her in the past. I don’t like it either, Shining, Cadance…” She pointed to the ansible. “But when we’re facing an opponent who can create things like this, we must be prepared to make compromises.”

Neither Cadance nor Shining spoke as they pondered her words.

“What else did we trace back to the infiltrator?” asked Cadance.

“Not much,” said Celestia. “An advanced gem-tracker, her Home Guard cloak, that’s it. She claims to have thrown the locket in the Everfree River, for which I mean to set up a search operation no later than today. With your help, Captain,” she added, to Shining. “This could take a very long time.”

“Indeed,” Shining nodded, a hoof to his chin. “And, beg pardon, Your Highness… when do we get to meet him… this locket’s owner?”

“Soon, after lunch,” Celestia promised. “After yesterday’s chaos, I thought it best to tighten things up again. Therefore, your first meeting with Captain Reiner will also be Galatea’s introduction to Twilight and the girls.”

Despite herself, Cadance chuckled nervously, with a flap of her wings.

“Wow, that’s…” she said. “Incredible to think there was yet another alicorn all this time. What’s that make me, then?”

“The third Princess, Cadance,” Celestia said kindly. “As before. Your tutelage of Twilight helped ensure there’d still be a place for Luna upon her return, in that my student had more than a teacher, she had a friend.”

While this made Shining smile proudly, Cadance felt a doubt pull at her.

“But… didn’t Twilight have friends her age during her time at your School?”

“In a way, yes,” Celestia agreed. “Yet I believe it’s only after coming to Ponyville that she truly began to understand what she had.” She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. “Let’s go. It’s almost lunchtime, and you’ll find this’ll all be easier to digest on a full stomach. Besides, Kibitz wouldn’t be thrilled by tardiness.”

* * * * *

Sitting together for lunch with a human, in Canterlot and together with her girlfriend, to boot, wasn’t the grand occasion Lyra Heartstrings had always imagined it’d be. For one thing, it was just the three of them, quietly shuffled off by Luna and Kibitz to a tea-room in the Palace facing the Canterhorn – upon arriving, Rainbow Dash had gone straight to looking for her friends.

And opposite her was Bonbon, eating in silence without looking up from her plate, as if any other sight would offend her.

Worse, however, was Alex, who had barely touched his food. He’d dip his spoon into the bowl, bring it up to his lips, then let it clatter, contents unsipped, before repeating the same business all over again.

Finally, Lyra could bear it no more. “Alex, what’s the matter? Don’t you like vegetable soup?”

“Hm?” He threw her a look. “No, it’s not that, I just… Yesterday, for the first time, I got to eat Equestrian food in Equestria. And it was served to me by an agent of the Solar Empire.”

“Ah, Nurse Redheart.”

To Lyra’s surprise, Bonbon had spoken.

“I wouldn’t worry about her,” Bonbon continued, gruffly. “We all saw Luna and her Guards pack her away, soon as we got here. She ain’t going anywhere.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Alex said. “The Imperials are wily. In fact…” He stopped.

“What is it, Alex?” said Lyra.

“Nothing,” he said, dipping into his soup.

Which meant he didn’t have to look her, or Bonbon, in the eyes.

* * * * *

“Whoa nelly, Rainbow,” said Applejack. “Ah’d plum think this ‘ere was one of your tall tales, ‘cept when you left us so sharp-ish yesterday, you said you’d had enough of all the craziness.”

Dash grinned at all her friends.

“Yeah, but you gotta admit,” she said cockily, “beats spending all day browsing through dusty old books, doesn’t it?”

“I dunno,” said Pinkie. “Last time I was here, I wouldn’t have minded checking the stuff they’ve got. Some of these books must be hiding some super-duper-amazing secrets! But Twilight wasn’t in the mood, and then Spike got indigestion.”

Spike, for his part, bit hard into another gem. “It’s gonna be nothing next to what I’ve got planned,” he muttered between crunches, twitchily. “Comfort food, no regrets.”

At any other time, Twilight might have spoken up in defense of scholarly reading. But her mind was left reeling. So much confusion… when would she get her relief?

She’d finally explained everything she knew to Spike last night, in their old bedroom, after everyone else had gone to bed. Yet what neither had spoken about was the encounter at the Library. She knew he must have explained it to her friends. She’d also noticed how at dinner, then breakfast and lunch, they’d all carefully avoided bringing it up.

Twilight understood they wished to give her space, and her heart went out to them for it. But it wasn’t comfortable to have this weighing on her, on top of Rainbow Dash’s wild account.

“I must agree with what Miss Pie has to say,” spoke a refined, male voice. “The Starswirl the Bearded Wing’s the only place I remember having any fun learning, as a colt. A perk of having books only you are allowed to read…”

They turned to look. At the far end of the Wing, Prince Blueblood was nonchalantly perusing a heavy tome on ancient maritime practices.

“Though some want too much of a good thing,” Blueblood commented. “I heard that’s what landed the Saddle Mareabian ambassador’s husband in prison, purchasing some vellum-bound book he shouldn’t have, just for his collection. Boy, it takes quite an ego…”

“‘Vellum’?” said Rarity, from the opposite side of his shelf. “How hideous!”

“Question of values, Miss Rarity,” shrugged Blueblood. “Apparently, the Minotaurs ascribe religious value to it, and you wouldn’t think they would, would you?”

“No…” Rarity said in a small voice. “Well, I guess there’s going to be a lot of learning to do.”

Having picked her books, she went to join Twilight’s group at the circular table in the center.

“How can you talk to him so casual, Rares?” Applejack said, keeping her voice down. “Ah thought you hated that guy.”

Rarity opened a book. “I don’t like him,” she whispered. “He’s a self-centred scoundrel. But meeting Sir Fancy’s taught me a few lessons about ponies putting on an act.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“The Prince gets surrounded by a lot of… admirers,” said Rarity. “And most aren’t even after him for the romance, if you catch my drift.”

“‘All that glitters is not gold’,” Rainbow quoted sagely. “I learnt that with Lightning Dust.”

“Not sure that’s quite what it means… but, yes,” Rarity nodded. “Apparently, on these occasions, Blueblood likes to act worse than he is.” She snorted. “Not that this doesn’t make him still pretty rotten… But I guess it’s better than taking advantage of a mare in other ways.”

“Bah,” huffed Spike, chewing messily. “You can do better than him, Rarity.”

“He’s a prankster. Gets it from his dear old auntie.”

The one who’d said this was a grinning face in her book.

Rarity shrieked, falling off her stool.

“Oh, don’t act so surprised,” said Discord, emerging from between the pages to step onto the library floor. “Like you’ve never seen me make an entrance.”

“Could you quit doing that?” Twilight glared at him. “It’s not funny. And where’s Fluttershy?”

“Right here, Twilight,” Fluttershy’s voice said, rapidly joined by the pegasus herself as she followed Discord out of the book. “We’ve had quite a time.”

Amazed, Twilight thought she’d never seen Fluttershy look so relaxed away from home. Her face was graced by a small, secretive smile, and unless Twilight was mistaken, the same look lay reflected on Discord – where against all odds, it looked as if it belonged.

“Well. Looks like we arrived right on cue. Greetings, everypony. This is quite a gathering.”

Hearing her mentor’s voice, Twilight snapped her attention to the barred gate separating the Starswirl the Bearded Wing from the rest of the Archives. There stood Princess Celestia, Cadance and Shining at her sides.

Twilight didn’t even cry a greeting. She rushed over, and threw her forehooves around Shining.

“Whoa-!” Though Shining sounded startled, he wasted no time in ruffling her mane. “Happy to see you too, Twily. But why the enthusiastic welcome committee?”

Twilight just pressed him harder, fighting down the tears she felt welling up. Shining Armor… her big brother, her best friend forever. He could never do what she’d seen him do in Alexander Reiner’s memories. Impossible.

Not was it something Celestia, her beloved mentor who was standing right there, looking at them with such fondness, could ever have done to him.

“Hi, Twilight,” she heard Cadance say softly. “My, you look as if you could do with a friendship chant.”

“Later, Cadance,” Twilight whispered. “We… well, we’re in a library.”

Cadance chuckled. “Of course.”

“Afternoon, Candy.”

It was Blueblood. Twilight hadn’t heard him walk up.

“Glad you could make it,” the Prince said, exchanging pecks on the cheek with Cadance. “Have I mentioned you look radiant? Married life must suit you.”

“Oh, Bluey,” Cadance smiled. “I think the radiance has more to do with all the crystals.”

Delicately yet firmly, Shining eased Twilight from gripping him. “Your Highness,” he said, bowing stiffly to Blueblood. “A pleasure.”

Blueblood laughed. “Shining Armor,” he said genially. “Cadance told me you were soft-spoken, but she didn’t mention you were a stallion of few words. But seeing how you’re Twilight Sparkle’s brother, I’d take it to mean you only talk when you have something brilliant to say.”

“Um…”

“Personally, I can’t contain myself,” Blueblood smiled. “I think it’s great to meet another Prince. Not many of us around these days, you know?”

Bewildered, Shining stared pleadingly at Celestia, who stepped forward.

“Then you’re in luck, nephew,” she said calmly. “Today’s a day for many meetings.”

Having backed away somewhat, Twilight had a better view of the happenings at the entrance, enough to notice four new figures coming up the hallway – two tall ponies, one little pony in crutches, and a figure in a wheelchair.

Celestia had noticed them, too, for she cleared her throat. “That’ll be my sister and Lyra, accompanying our guests. We ought to make room for them. Everyone, gather at the table.”

Twilight joined the throng in obeying Celestia. Swiftly, all in the Starswirl the Bearded Wing had taken places at the table according to preference – the Royals huddled together, while Rarity had contrived to sit far away from either Blueblood or Discord, who was with Fluttershy.

It was only after the brief disorder that something flashed in Twilight.

‘Guests? Who else could that be with Reiner?’

Luna took the lead in entering the Wing.

“Salutations,” she said regally. “None of you knew me three years ago. But you all know me now, and I’m pleased to call many of you ‘friend’.” She looked at Twilight upon saying ‘friend’, smiling serenely – a smile matched by Twilight, sheepish as she was.

After her came Lyra, looking just as nervous. “Madame Heartstrings, you all know in some capacity or another,” said Luna. “As a former classmate, a former charge, a neighbour or, dare I say it, a friend.”

“Um, yeah, that’s me!” chirped Lyra, waving a crutch.

Her comment was impromptu, but Luna recovered fast. “And now, as a Princess of Equestria, I should like you all to meet two newcomers, whom in time, I hope we shall get to know very much… and possibly, call friends.”

She and Lyra stood aside, letting the two remaining figures through.

To the left, Twilight recognised Alexander Reiner. The human appeared healthy enough for a person in a wheelchair, and she saw he’d been given back his uniform to wear, freshly pressed and cleaned. Yet his eyes were as dark and troubled as they’d ever been, and there was a leadenness to his bearing.

And to the left was a tall pony, a grey mare wearing a threadbare, patchwork cloak, a pair of goggles covering her eyes.

“Hi, everyone,” said Reiner.

This drew all eyes to him. Momentarily, the leadenness seemed to leave him, replaced by a look of quiet wonder.

Reiner turned to Lyra. “My God…” he told her quietly. “The entire Royal Family and the Element Bearers all in one place… none mean me harm… welcoming me… It’s just so postcard perfect…”

There came a cough. “Is that right? I think you’re forgetting someone. And nopony ever said my face was pretty.”

Before anyone could make a move, in a flash, Discord had apparated before Reiner, hovering in a lying position. To Twilight’s dismay, he did not look very welcoming.

“So,” Discord said tersely. “You’re the human creature. The one who threatened Fluttershy.”

Incredibly, Reiner gave no sign of being either surprised, or intimidated.

“And you must be Discord,” he said, smiling slightly. “Lord of Chaos. Don’t worry about faces, I’ve spent the last five years fighting creatures with pretty faces and ugly, twisted souls.”

Discord whistled.

“I’ve heard about humans,” he said, raising himself to address the whole gathering. “Their capacity for mischief and mayhem is claimed to be of proportions I’d find delightful. But I have no personal experience with them. If humans have come to Equus, it either slipped my notice, or was during one of those periods when I was sealed away.”

He lowered himself back to eye-level.

“And, mischief and mayhem or no mischief and mayhem,” Discord added, fixing his gaze’s intensity on Reiner. “I do not like it when people threaten Fluttershy.”

“Discord, please,” Fluttershy said, moving up to him. “Don’t be like that. He’s seen things. Horrors about as bad as… as the things you showed us in that hedge maze. If not worse...” She sounded as if she’d had to make herself say this. “He’s finding it very difficult to tell friend from foe.”

“I’m hardly the maddest,” Reiner said, half-jokingly. “But he’s got a point.” His eyes fell upon Fluttershy, full of contrition. “I’ve been putting this off too long,” he whispered, leaning forward to meet her gaze. “I should have said sorry. What I did to you was… unprovoked.”

“It’s alright,” Fluttershy said gently. “You were just afraid. And you didn’t really do anything.”

Next to them, Discord stroked his goatee. “Fine,” he said at last, raising a finger before Reiner. “But only because she said so. You’ve no idea of the things I could do, human. To you, and all your armies.”

“Actually, I’m sure my superiors would love to hear that,” said Reiner. “It’d be us playing with fire as badly as we did with nukes, but by God, they’ll want someone like you to take on the Solar Tyrant.”

“No fear,” Discord said with a malicious cackle. “That’s the part I’m looking forward to…”

With Fluttershy taking him by the claw, he hovered over to rejoin the gathering.

“Okay,” Reiner said. “Lyra, I met the Element Bearers with you in Ponyville… and the Princesses, sort of. Can you make any of the remaining introductions…” He nodded at Luna. “Or should that honour go to you, Your Highness?”

Luna responded solemnly.

“I do believe,” she said, “that Madame Heartstrings has known the fine ponies of today’s Royal Family longer than I have, Captain Reiner. Princess Cadance especially, but also Prince Shining Armor and Prince Astron Blueblood, to some degree.”

“Princess Cadance,” Reiner said, pre-empting Lyra as he stared at the surprised Princess of Love. “You, I know. Or at least, I know another you. She no longer calls herself a princess. All the lesser princes and princesses of Equestria were driven out, or ‘vanished’, by the Tyrant. But you, you threw in your lot with us. For Lyra, and the Equestria you loved.”

Finally, after all the harsh words he had said about Equestria, Twilight felt herself beaming with pride, in no small part because the praise was aimed at Cadance.

By Reiner’s side, the tall mare waited, motionless as a statue. Twilight might have forgotten her if Reiner hadn’t chosen that moment to throw her an inquisitive glance.

Whatever this was about, it got lost when Cadance spoke in reply.

“And…” Cadance began. “Shining? Blueblood?”

Reiner immediately snapped away from the tall mare to observe Cadance, then Lyra, as if he were asking a silent question.

Lyra simply nodded. “I got to know Shining when I was one of Cadance’s bridesmaids. And Blueblood, we’ve… we’ve met. Through Cadance, again. Turned out we share a fascination for things outside Equestria…”

“Alright…” said Reiner. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but… Well, nothing good came to them. The Tyrant somehow bewitched your husband into fighting for her… And Prince Blueblood… I… I don’t really know. Lyra, the Lyra I knew, didn’t talk about him much. I think she once mentioned something about him falling in battle against the dragons… but that’s all I got.”

The air in the room grew a few degrees colder. Twilight saw Shining’s eyes dart towards Blueblood, but Blueblood didn’t move at all. His own eyes looked fogged over.

Until the feeling was thoroughly demolished by a choking snort and a cough from beneath the table.

“What in the–” Twilight peered under. “Spike! How much did you eat!? And will you get out from under there!?”

Coughing and splurting, a much abashed-looking Spike, cheeks covered in crumbs, crawled out into the light.

“Uh, h-hi, guys,” Spike stuttered, red in the face. “How’s it going?”

And Reiner, who hadn’t batted an eye at Discord, now looked astonished. “Good Lord! What might you be?”

“This is Spike,” said Twilight, lifting him to his feet and trying to brush off the crumbs. “He’s a baby dragon, my assistant, and my kid brother. He was at Golden Oaks Library while we were talking to you in the hospital.”

Initially, Reiner still seemed nonplussed, but then he nodded slowly. “Yes, now that you mention it, I do spot a family resemblance…”

Twilight rolled her eyes, having heard the jokes about their purple hides before. She dimly noticed that Blueblood’s eyes had unfogged at around the words ‘family resemblance’, but paid it little heed. At least he’d stopped zoning out.

Muttering under her breath, she returned to trying to clean up Spike.

“Why are you so shocked, sir?” Rarity asked. “I mean, Spike is the cutest little dragon, of which there aren’t many, I’m sure, yet he was raised by ponies.”

“It’s just that…” Reiner said hesitantly. “This is going to sound strange, but that’s the first time I’ve seen a dragon.”

Discord harrumphed. “You’ve never met a draconequus before,” he said, crossing his arms. “Yet we don’t see you making a song-and-dance about it.”

“That’s cos’ he’s not what I’d have expected from a dragon,” Reiner told him. “Not all big and imposing… not like you are. And the last thing I thought I’d see in Equestria was a dragon who’s friends with the ponies.”

Suddenly, Dash stepped up. “Hey, Alex,” she said loudly. “Aren’t you gonna tell them ‘bout what happened with Redheart in Ponyville?”

“I don’t think anyone needs to hear that again, Rainbow,” Twilight said crossly.

But she was wrong.

“Um, I do?” Fluttershy said, from next to Discord. “What’s this about Redheart?”

Her question made Twilight flinch, realising Fluttershy and Discord couldn’t possibly have heard about this yet. Yet just as either Dash or Reiner might have opened their mouths, they were startlingly interrupted.

The tall mare had taken a step forward. “I believe I can cover those questions,” she said. “Once I have been introduced.”

It was the most peculiar voice to ever enter Twilight’s ears – prim, proper, yet with the telltale brogue accent of the Reindeer mingled with the rough-hewn dialect of Stratusburg.

Instead of adding anything, though, the speaker advanced toward the throng, in a gap that permitted her to approach the table under their watching, confused eyes.

A light shone from beneath her cloak’s hood, just as a few books got pulled from the pile towering over the table, the teetering pile of paper miraculously staying put. It had to be the tall mare’s telekinesis – the book was held aloft in an aura as grey and dull as her coat or cloak.

Peering, Twilight beheld the titles. Runic Symbols Of Antiquity and Seven Theories on Bending Time, both edited by a certain ‘S. Nexus’.

“Professor Nexus’ work,” the tall mare said. “Used for research in relation to Alexander Reiner’s runes,” she said evenly, not looking back at said human, who was staring at her as uncertainly as anyone. “Yes, researching them may prove worthwhile, if there is a secret there we do not yet know.”

Twilight frowned in confusion. “Uh, forgive me if this seems rude, but… who are you?”

“A scholar,” said the tall mare, “come to aid Princess Celestia in regards to the human.”

From nearby, Twilight thought she heard Discord trying and failing to hold down a snigger.

Nonetheless, the next one to speak was Cadance.

“You’re Galatea, aren’t you?”

The tall mare glanced at the Princess of Love, around whose shoulders Shining had slung his forehoof protectively.

“Then Celestia had already told you, Princess Cadance,” the tall mare stated, as both Celestia and Luna wordlessly drew in behind her. And, for the first time, Twilight realised that she stood a head taller than Celestia. “Yes. I am Galatea. I have returned to Canterlot after a very long absence. Work, as it were.”

“What? Long absence?!”

Pinkie Pie’s head had shot up as soon as the words left Galatea’s mouth, a wide-eyed grin on her face.

“Ooh, hi! I’m Pinkie Pie!,” she exclaimed, bouncing on the table. “Who are you?!”

Galatea took a step back from this pink smiling blur of a mare. “I… am Galatea. A scholar.”

“Ooh, neat!” Pinkie said, still grinning widely. “You’ll just love this place! There’s absolutely loads of books. More books than a book factory.” She paused. “Well, actually, I don't really know about that, I’ve never been to a book factory. There might be more books than a book factory, but–”

“Pinkie,” Twilight said, nudging Spike aside to curtail her friend’s enthusiasm. “I’m sure the Princess’s friend must be tired if she’s had a long journey.”

“Oh, yeah,” Pinkie said with a grin. “Absolutely.” She paused, tilting her head. “Hey, uh, Miss Galatea? Don’t your wings get cramped under there? Rainbow Dash always complains that she can’t rest her wings in stuffy clothes.”

Twilight’s head swiveled around faster than she thought possible, her eyes wide with shock.

“Excuse me?” Galatea said, her own expression growing bemused. She lifted her goggles, revealing a pair of icy blue eyes.

“Y’know, your wings? Cramped? Cloak?” Pinkie asked, as though this were obvious. She stretched her neck forward, one eye closed and the other as wide as a dinner plate, and pointed to Galatea’s cloak-covered withers. “They’re pressed pretty tight, but I can sorta see the outline.”

Galatea raised an eyebrow before, without fanfare, she raised a wing. Twilight gasped as Galatea’s cloak accentuated her spread feathers, and lowered her head. All of her friends except Pinkie and Lyra followed suit.

“Forgive me, Princess…” she started. “Uh…”

“I am not a Princess. I am merely Galatea.”

“Uh, then, forgive me, Galatea,” Twilight said, head still bowed. “I’m so sorry, I did not realise…”

“It’s a cloak, silly!” Pinkie said cheerfully. “I could still see the bumps from her wings, and she’s taller than Celestia!”

“I was so sure they wouldn’t be easy to notice,” Galatea said. Twilight’s first instinct was that she sounded disappointed, but there was too much surprise, and perhaps humour in her voice for Twilight to be sure.

In the background, Discord clapped his hands. “Ohh, well done, Pinkie Pie!” he grinned. “That’s the trouble with most people. They don’t look. People say I don’t make sense, but really, isn’t that the nonsensicalest thing of all?”

“Honestly,” smiled Pinkie. “I didn’t really expect a new alicorn to pop up, but I figured I should be prepared! In case of serious alicorn emergencies. It was kind of a long shot.”

“That…” Galatea blinked, at loss for words, “does not make sense.”

“It really does, though!” Pinkie countered. “Life always provides you with what you need, if you look hard enough. Emergency coffee, emergency fireworks, emergency tubas…”

An amused-looking Celestia saw fit to add her two bits. “Emergency alicorns?”

Luna groaned.

“Seriously, Auntie?” Blueblood whispered mutedly, tugging at his jacket.

“Yupperoonie!” Pinkie said brightly. “I’ve always believed the universe provides when you need it the most.”

To collective surprise, Galatea began chuckling. “If the universe requires me,” she said. “I can only hope not to be a disappointment.”

“I am sure you won’t be,” Celestia said quietly, while Luna shrugged her shoulders.

“But… but who are you?” Now Twilight raised her head, yet her eyes still wide with surprise. “I don’t understand… if you’re an alicorn, did you… are you like Cadance, did you become one, or did you–”

“Twilight,” Celestia said gently, a smile on her face. “These are all important questions, and I hope you never stop being so curious about the world, but I’m afraid there is much that still must take up our attention. You have met Galatea, all of you. That is a good start.”

Twilight nodded. “Oh, uh, of course.”

Possibly the strangest thing about the whole reunion was how quiet Lyra had stayed throughout. If there was something she’d wanted to say, she’d waited her turn with a patience Twilight might never have suspected she had.

But now Lyra must have decided her moment had arrived, for she approached Celestia.

“Actually,” said Lyra, hobbling. “Your Highness–”

A squeaking of wheels cut right across her. The human in his wheelchair had rolled closer to the centre of the room, closer to where Cadance, Shining and Blueblood stood, his eyes fixed on only one of them.

“Princess Cadance,” Alexander Reiner said, awed. “...You’re an alicorn?”

* * * * *

Half an hour later, the gathering was down a few Royals.

Celestia reflected on how Reiner’s surprise at Cadance’s status confirmed her deduction from chatting with the captured Redheart. Wherever the exact point of divergence might lie between Equestrias, it went back to a time prior to Cadance earning her wings… in other words, before Twilight had even become her student or hatched Spike. Ten, fifteen years, perhaps more.

Fleetingly, Celestia wondered how funny it was that after close to a decade, Spike could still be called a ‘baby’ dragon, but she didn’t dwell on it. Legends told of a great dragon who lived within a mountain, older than Equestria or the preceding equine nations. Even an alicorn had to appreciate how long-lived dragons could be.

Maybe Cadance would come away enlightened from her private discussion with Reiner. Celestia dearly hoped so, for her and Shining’s sake. Blueblood had his own means of coping with stress, on which he was no doubt getting a head-start at this very instant, not waiting for his big evening.

Only she and Luna had remained in the Starswirl the Bearded Wing to see how the Bearers responded to Galatea. Most of it had been predictable. Applejack had enquired how Galatea kept herself fed. Rarity, after some whittering about her cloak’s threadbare state, had backed up Applejack by asking if Galatea relied on the kindness of strangers. This was when Fluttershy had joined her voice to theirs. And Dash wore a look throughout which betrayed her desire to gush on how cool it was to have another alicorn, but she let her friends ask the real questions.

Naturally, Pinkie alone was unpredictable.

“There is just one question,” Pinkie said, once the querying reached its conclusion with Applejack being satisfied Galatea didn’t scrump for a living. Her tone was incredibly serious. “A very important question.”

Galatea considered her. “And what question might that be, Miss Pie?”

“When,” Pinkie said, “is your birthday.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Galatea nodded solemnly.

“I believe it was the Seventh of Aethon by the current Equestrian Calendar,” she informed Pinkie. “But I could be mistaken. I have never celebrated my birthday before.”

Pinkie Pie blinked. “Never… celebrated… your birthday.”

“No,” Galatea said simply. “It was never brought up, nor did I think it was necessary.”

Pinkie took a deep breath, as though steadying herself, then smiled. “I see. And how many birthdays have you, uh, not celebrated?”

Galatea shrugged. “I have frankly lost count, Miss Pie. But if you'd like, consider your plans as mine first birthday.” She paused. “Perhaps it was five thousand, give or take.”

Pinkie nodded, before gently grabbing a piece of notepaper. “I see. Twilight, quill, please?” Once Twilight had obliged, Pinkie quickly scribbled something down. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Oh, no,” Applejack whispered, shooting Twilight a worried look.

“If that’ll be all,” said Galatea, not noticing Rarity smile knowingly.

She readjusted the cloak to hug her barrel once again, and made her way towards the door.

“Well,” said Celestia. “I shall leave you to your research, my little ponies. If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask.”

Lyra hobbled over.

“I can provide something,” Luna added, moving to face Fluttershy.

Luna might have ignored Lyra closing her mouth and stomping her hoof in frustration, never mind her recent nervous paralysis – but it didn’t evade Celestia, no more than a sniggering Discord, who’d just been hovering silently during the Bearers’ talk with Galatea.

“Here, Lyra,” Celestia said, draping a wing around her. “You can come with us. Captain Reiner ought to soon be done talking with Cadance and Shining.”

The gratitude emanating from Lyra was nearly as palpable to Celestia as the Sun’s rays. “Thank you, Princess.”

Meanwhile, Fluttershy was asking what she should thank Luna for providing.

“Sleep, dear Fluttershy,” Luna said gently. “I can’t imagine you’re not jet-lagged from Discord’s continent-hopping. With a calculatedly distilled amount of sleep, I can get your cicadian rhythm back in synch with Equestrian times.”

“Oh, no, Princess,” Fluttershy smiled. “Trust me, I’ve rarely felt this invigourated.”

Luna threw Discord a suspicious glance. “You may feel like that for a short time,” she kept on addressing Fluttershy, steadying her voice. “But the feeling will wear off with a vengeance at this time of day. And we need you and your friends’ balance more than ever.”

* * * * *

After the excitements of that meeting, the rest of the day proceeded uneventfully for Twilight’s group of friends. Learning from Dash’s frustrations at the city library and with Fluttershy going first, they had chosen to rotate, going about it in turns to take short naps every few hours, so they could relay each other in remaining alert while reading all through the long afternoon.

But their research’s paltry findings seemed to confirm what had been said by Discord – who’d vanished to some other place, after extracting a promise from Fluttershy to check up on him soon – about the lack of concrete information on humans in Equestria, even amongst these oldest, most mysterious of archives.

So, as the day edged towards sunset, they retreated by consensus, for a meal and a rest. However, one pony still had one thing on her mind.

“Five thousand. Five. Thousand.”

“Are you… alright, Pinkie?” Twilight asked, forgetting the storybook she was reading in bed.

On the bed across from Twilight’s, Pinkie looked up from her renewed scribbling. “Just planning a ‘five-thousand-birthdays-in-one’ party. Or a first birthday. Whichever works!”

“You really did take to Galatea immediately,” Twilight commented. “I mean, I get you love making friends with everyone. But you never once talked about throwing a party for Reiner.”

“Welllll, that’s not exactly true, Twi’,” said Pinkie. “I did kinda leave Lyra a note… but then he woke up and started talking about all those bad things, and I forgot, I guess.”

“Oh…” Not once had Pinkie forgotten a party before.

“But!” said Pinkie. “It does mean I’ve a doozy of a party to plan now.”

“I hope so, Pinkie,” Twilight said. She meant every word. “Because goodness knows, I doubt there’ll be many parties going on these days.”

“Just means I’ll have to make the few we have extra special!” Pinkie crowed. “If things will get as bad as I think, we need something to keep us happy.”

“If Reiner is right about what we’re getting into, I think we’ll n–” Twilight started.

Pinkie bounced over to place a hoof over Twilight’s mouth. “Ssssh-ssh-shsh. I saw it all too, and I know.”

Pinkie Pie seemed a little less… or a little more… something. Twilight couldn’t fully place the word, but there was something different about Pinkie then and there.

“Just let me keep this on a happy note,” the party pony said.

Twilight heard the bedroom door creak upon.

“Guys?” said a voice. “It’s me, Lyra.”

Despite the late hour, everypony in the room was still awake, reading by lamplight. Except for Spike, who lay curled up in his cot next to Twilight’s bed, with Peewee standing guard.

“Lyra?” Twilight said. Her friends nodded. “Okay, come in.”

The little green unicorn entered, still supporting herself with a crutch. Carefully, Lyra closed the door behind her. In her aura, she carried a book Twilight recognised from somewhere.

“Where’s Bonbon?” whispered Applejack pulling up her sheets. “Wasn’t she with you and Captain Reiner?”

“Sleeping,” Lyra said. “I gave her the slip. We spent the afternoon touring the Palace, like I promised, anyway. I had to make it up to her somehow. Can I sit, Twilight?”

“Sure,” said Twilight, budging up to make room for Lyra on the bed.

Lyra nodded gratefully and sat, the book in hoof.

“Wow, nice setup you’ve got here,” she mentioned, gazing around the room. “Very spacious. Weren’t you supposed to be staying at your parents’ house?”

“We did last night,” Twilight said. “And we went over this evening with Shining and Cadance. But Princess Celestia said she thinks it’d be safest, from now on, if we all stay in the Palace.”

“She’s got a point,” Lyra said. “But, Twilight, what did Cadance tell you, if anything, about her chat with Alex?”

“Well, I asked her,” said Twilight, understanding the purpose of Lyra’s visit. “She said she told him how she became an alicorn. You know, that old bedtime story of hers, about her growing up in a a village of earthponies at faraway Oleander, and how the jealous sorceress Prismia drained the villagers’ love, and Cadance confronted her and persuaded her to change her ways, and that got Celestia’s attention.”

“That sounds like a nice story,” Rarity smiled, resting upon her pillow. “We should hear it in full someday.”

“In the story, Prismia used an enchanted necklace, didn’t she?” Lyra mused. “Twilight, d’you think that might’ve been the Alicorn Amulet?”

“Why… I…” Twilight blinked. “You know, maybe it was. The Amulet can only be taken off willingly… and Cadance convinced the sorceress to change...”

“Where’d you put the Amulet, Twi’?” Dash asked.

“It’s safely locked under nine charms at Golden Oaks Library. I’ve done everything I could for it to be there when I get back.”

“Maybe you should fetch it soon,” said Lyra.

“How come?”

“Because… if the Amulet is the necklace from Cadance’s story, I got a feeling it might become almost as important as Alex’s locket… You’re not the only who’s done her homework. Before Trixie showed up with it, where did the Amulet go? What became of Prismia? And, most importantly… why did none of that happen to Alex’s Cadance?”

“That’s…” Twilight opened her mouth, then closed it. “You know, I don’t know.”

Fluttershy coughed. “Um, Lyra?”

Twilight and Lyra turned to her. “Yeah?”

“It’s about that… that locket-thing,” Fluttershy said. “See, Luna took me aside… She claimed it was to help me sleep better, but in fact, it was so she could talk to me in my dreams, where Discord wouldn’t hear…”

“Really? Why?” said Lyra.

“She said Discord mustn’t know about the locket,” Fluttershy said quietly. “She said Galatea had mentioned that if he did, he could destroy it. I promised that I wouldn’t use my Element on him, but nopony said anything about a locket…”

Twilight nodded to Lyra. “Yeah. That’s why Galatea prevented Alex from talking about Redheart, or the locket, in front of Discord.”

“Oh. Ah.” Lyra thought it over. “Gotta say, that’s very logical.”

“But what’s so special about the locket, anyway?” demanded Dash.

Lyra opened her book to the now-familiar sketch of the pearl figurine. “‘Harmony Enlightening the World’, Dash,” she said, pointing. “With the Rainbow of Light. One of the treasures Doctor Waggoner’s expedition found... and lost on its journey home.”

“Lyra,” gasped Twilight. “Surely, you can’t be serious.”

Pinkie shook her head. “She’s never been more serious, Twi’.”

“But…” Twilight collected herself. “Hold on, hold on. What did Alex have to say about the locket? Did he mention the Alicorn Amulet?”

“No, not once,” Lyra admitted. “Didn’t seem to think his locket was anything special, either… but when I saw him after he’d finished talking to Cadance, he mentioned something. He said his mother used to tell him the locket was filled with ‘the fire that God has put there’...”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Twilight said. “Some… some sort of spark, like in the Elements of Harmony?”

“That’s what I want to find out,” Lyra said determinedly, tapping her book. “What I went to Princess Celestia for. Someone’s got to go to the Sunken Dream Valley once more, and find out where ponies truly began.”

Twilight stared at Lyra, aware that all her fellow Element Bearers were doing the same.

“And the Princess turned you down straight away,” she said pleadingly, “reminding you we might be going to war soon, right?”

“Nope,” said Lyra. “Matter of fact, she sounded very interested in the idea of an expedition.”

Resignation washed through Twilight. There was no fight left in her on this, no argument she could muster against the pig-headedness of her old friend. It was all too much.

“Okay…” Twilight sighed. “But before you go, I absolutely need your help for one thing.”

Lyra blinked in surprise. “Of course, Twilight. Anything. What are friends for?”

“Lyra…” Somehow, this felt like the hardest thing Twilight had ever done. “I met Moondancer.”

* * * * *

In the Guards’ quarters of the Palace, though it should have technically been after lights-out, Icewind lay beneath the blankets of his bunk, consulting a book by the light of a firefly-lamp. Much as his bunkmate was a stickler for regulations, he felt some comfort knowing Winter would shut an eye on this – after all, Winter had never been one to discourage reading.

It was a small comfort to be had, considering how restless hiding the locket made him. Icewind told himself that keeping it hidden between the plates of barding in his locker was probably the best hiding-spot he could hope for – not only was it too obvious for anyone to think about looking there, the armour’s enchantments were a barrier against magical search.

But what if Captain Armor ordered a surprise inspection, and saw with his own eyes…

Icewind didn’t let his mind veer off on this path. He couldn’t afford to. Besides, he still wasn’t convinced he might not just tell Captain Armor about the whole thing. The Princesses were feeling unapproachable to him these days, yet the Captain was still the shining knight every Guard aspired to be.

Except that before then, it was vital he learn more about what he was up against.

Uncovering information about humans had proven unsurprisingly difficult. The strange creatures were regarded as the stuff of obscure myth and cryptozoology by the mainstream, leaving very little on offer to consult in a respectable public library. Nonetheless, by persisting, he’d managed to scrounge a few promising volumes.

Icewind gave the name on the frontispiece another look over. Doctor Catseye. The single name to pop up the most in contemporary human studies. Depending on how the wind blew, he might try and contact her in person.

He was to do much reading over the next few days, his worries deepening, while the people from outside Equestria continued to gather ever more in answer of the Concordia’s Call.

~ Bone Dry Desert, South of the Great Continent ~ By the Equestrian Calendar, Seventh Day of the Month of Rophon, Year 3 of the Era Harmoniae ~

“Look out!”

Arch heard his Pa’s warning shout, in time for him to peer out the window as a huge rock landed in front of their caravan, blowing up sand and causing the two tow-bulls to stop dead in their tracks.

“Where the blazes did that come from!?” Pa cried out, the wood of the cart creaking as he climbed off the driver’s seat. “Of all the times for this to happen…”

The old boar’s words dissolved into muttered oaths, too low for Arch to make out. And that was the most worrying thing of all. It wasn’t like Pa to tone down his language.

“What’s going out there, Arch?” Mills asked, clutching his guitar.

“A rock’s landed in front of us, Pa’s checkin’ it out.” Arch replied. “Something’s wrong.” He reached for his polished club and moved towards the door. “Ya stay here, I’m gonna go–”

He didn’t know what happened immediately. One second he was by the door. The next, both it and he were torn off and thrown away, noisily. Arch hit the desert ground with a thud and tumbled before stopping.

“Ugh.” He groaned, face and hands burning from the sand, as he tried to pick himself up. “Wh–” Arch froze at what he saw.

Standing by the caravan, or at least where the door had been, was what looked like a short blue dragon wearing armour. The metal gleamed in the sun, blindingly, and the light caught him in the eye. Yelping, Arch felt more than saw one of his hands scramble up to block it, the world momentarily gone white.

He almost didn’t notice the rod-like thing the dragon carried on its back.

It was when he heard Mills’ squeal that Arch’s senses snapped back to normal. Somehow, his other hand found his club. Keeping his weapon in a tight grip, Arch hurried back towards the caravan, just as the small dragon moved into the trailer.

“Get out of there, beast!” Arch yelled, breaking into a run.

Yet he was stopped when, abruptly, another dragon landed in front of him, billowing up sand, blocking his path. This one was not only all red, it was bigger and unarmoured and mean-looking and–

“Pa!” Arch cried, recognising the prone shape clutched in the dragon’s left hand. “Let him go, ya overgrown lizard!” Bringing his club arm up, Arch charged in for a swing, and was swiftly knocked back by the dragon’s tail as it slammed into him.

The dragon sneered. “Puny swine,” it said, though its voice sounded on the cusp of cracking. Was it a youth? “You’re just lucky the Princess is here, or you’d be cooking by now.”

“What’s that supposed to mean!?” Arch yelled in spite of himself, before throwing caution to the wind and trying another charge. And again, to his pain, he was battered back by the brute’s tail...

“This is getting annoying,” it muttered, dropping his Pa, who hit the ground with a thud. “Either you cut this out, or I’ll make you stop.”

“Bring it!” Arch declared, trying one final charge and, this time, managing to avoid getting hit by the tail – only to get grabbed by the dragon's claws. His fingers turned loose, dropping his club to the ground.

“By the Kämpfer, you are thick,” the red dragon grumbled, before eyeing him.

“What’re ya lookin’ at?” Arch demanded, trying to struggle even though he was held above the ground.

Instead of answering, the red dragon looked around. Its eyes stayed especially focused on the cart, longer than any other spot of the caravan. When it was done, it turned back to him.

“Hey, swine,” it whispered, rancid breath filling up Arch’s nostrils. “You got anything on you?”

“What?” Arch flatly asked, staring at the creature.

“You heard me,” the red dragon said, one claw reaching into Arch’s threadbare pockets, “what do you got on you that’s... shiny?”

“What– are ya trying to rob me!”

“Don’t be so loud!” it hissed, swerving its head towards the caravan again, before returning its focus on him. “You gotta have something important, even if you are a pig.” It abandoned Arch’s pockets and inspected his neck. “Come on, you gotta have some jewel-encrusted junk or a gold tooth!”

It forced Arch’s mouth open, yet seemed to curse when it failed to find anything. Disgusted, the brute slammed Arch’s mouth shut.

“Argh!” Arch spluttered and spat. His jaws ached like Tartarus. “What’s yer problem!”

“Figures. Just figures, we’re flying for miles and yet the only thing we find is a wagon full of stinkin’ little hams. No use to anyone,” the red dragon huffed. “Go look at your ‘Pa’, little pig. You don’t have a thing I want.” It prepared to throw Arch when–

“Stop fooling around, you lughead.”

This was a voice Arch hadn’t heard yet. And it sounded female?

His view darted towards where the voice had come from. But he knew whose it was before he’d laid eyes on her. The blue dragon in gold armour was standing in front of the ravaged cart, the battered remains of the door lying at her feet.

A small gust of wind had started to pick up, and already grains of sand were blowing across the broken wood, burying it in a thin, dark golden coating.

But Arch spared that only the briefest glance, and the dragon did not look at it all. Instead, he realised, her attention was on the assortment of things she was holding between her arms, pilfered from the cart. Pots and pans and pieces of food...

She lay the pile on the sandy ground. On the other hand, the red dragon, obeying the female’s command, had left Arch hanging. He didn’t feel glad of it for long, once he heard her next words.

“Drop him,” the apparent leader of the two said carelessly. “I’m gonna need an extra pair of claws here. And we’re gonna need something to carry all this in.” She nodded towards the back of the cart. “Spotted some burlap sacks over there. They oughta do nicely.”

The red dragon grumbled, dropping Arch to the ground, before stomping towards the back. While wincing from the pain, Arch looked up to notice the leader dragon slip something wrapped in a blanket into the pile. But he kept quiet, just wanting this ordeal to be over now.

Once the male returned with the bags, it and the female started stuffing the items in. Done, the red dragon picked up two of the bags, before opening its wings and taking off, leaving the remaining bag with the leader.

“Why’d ya do this to us?” Arch asked, his voice breaking as she seized the last of the loot. “We didn’t do nothin’ to deserve this...”

The dragon’s face was concealed beneath her armour’s helmet. Even her eyes were impossible to see under the slits. Still, when she turned to face him, he knew she was looking at him intently.

“Dragons do not sow,” she said simply. “Only reap. Be glad I was there to hold his leash. If it were down to him, he’d have taken you and your family along for the bargain.”

She stepped forward, gave a beat of her wings, and then seemed to hesitate.

“We didn’t take your water barrels,” the dragon said. “Only your gourds, which we’ll be needing to replenish ourselves later. You should have enough water to make it to the edge of the desert. Or back to Klugetown. Whichever you prefer.”

And with that, not even looking back at the cart she’d just ransacked, the dragon flew. There was a lightness to her flight, despite her heavy armour, that Arch might have considered graceful if things were different.

“Arch?”

He heard Mills before he saw him, emerging from the caravan, shaking.

“Mills!” Arch cried out, rushing up to embrace his little brother. “You’re not hurt!”

“N-No.” Mills replied, shakily. “B-But that blue dragon, s-she… she took my guitar.”

“What?”

“She kept lookin’ at it, and she just took it from me, when I thought she was gonna attack me.” Mills sniffled slightly. “I hadn’t even got to play the new strings yet.”

Arch sighed, massaging his head.

“What a croc.”

~ Forbidden Jungle, South of the Great Continent ~

A puff, a breath of fire, and the tinder alit, glorious flame rising.

Satisfied, Princess Ember sat herself down, a knee folded over the other, on one of the logs they’d pulled into a semi-circle in this little clearing. No fire ever felt so warm to a dragon as that which burned within their belly, of course, but the light it cast was pleasant and useful in the gathering gloom. Not that a drake worthy of the name had anything to fear from the dark.

In fact, she suspected that any fellow traveller who should chance upon them, here in the woods at night, would quickly have felt their relief turn to regret as the poor soul realised just whose campfire they’d stumbled across.

It wouldn’t have been the first rough encounter of the day, anyway.

Giving her chin a stroke, Ember’s mind went to the contents of the huge burlap bag she hadn’t unslung on all her way here, even while setting up a bivouac. With a grunt, she at last hauled it over her shoulder, bringing the thing to land on the grassy knoll with a soft ‘thump’. Wordlessly, she motioned to her companion that he do the same.

Although in the space of a day, they’d already been through thick and thin together, now she was out of her armour, Ember felt reluctant to chat with the red-scaled boulderhead any more than necessary.

She rummaged through the bag, looking for all the most interesting things she remembered they’d snaffled from those wandering Klugetownites. In turn, she pulled out a loaf a bread three days old, a jug of sand-grog, and last of all, a thick yet green-tinged slice of meat.

“Well,” Ember commented. “It’s a start.” She fixed her companion in her sights. “Now’s your turn to bring out the goods. What’ve you got?”

Garble huffed the last of their combined load from his back, bending his back and stretching out his wings. “Most of the loot, Princess.”

He spoke in the Common Tongue. Ember had commanded they practice it, even in private. While it plainly gave him no pleasure, this was one order Garble heeded with minimal complaint.

The red drake spat, before forcing open a sack and digging out a pack of rather stale crackers. “Why couldn’t they have pearls?” he grumbled, trying to force some of the crackers down. Only to almost immediately cough them back out.

“Don’t,” Ember snarled, flashing her teeth. “Call me. Princess.”

“Why not?” Garble spat, wiping bits of cracker off his maw, “you ain’t the Dragon Lord or the Kämpfer, so that’s the only thing left, Princess.”

Growling, Ember stood, ignoring how her companion was a full head taller than her. She could not tower over him physically, but she knew she dwarfed him mentally. Besides, she had an ace in the hole.

“Let me show you,” Ember said, reaching into the depths of her bag. This time, what she pulled was a certain tall, thick rod hewn from volcanic stone. “This,” she said slowly, pointing to the blood-red stone held in the Sceptre’s claw-like grip, “is my father’s sceptre. He entrusted it to me. So that I’d represent the dragons in their Lord’s stead. That does not make me a princess. The proper title, as he told it, is ambassador.”

“You’re still his whelp.” Garble growled, annoyed, “Ambassador or not.”

She tapped the Sceptre on the ground. The ruby glinted, as a small, static spark raced up Ember’s arm.

“Oh, really,” she sneered. “I could turn you to stone with this thing, you know.”

Garble just muttered to himself, before digging into another sack, trying to find something else to eat than old, stale crackers.

“That’s really all we have?” Ember asked. “With the glee you fell upon those bumpkins with, I’d have expected more to show for it.”

“Shut it!” Garble snapped, tearing a sack in half; the contents, a bunch of worn jars, spilling to the ground, with two breaking into pieces. “If I were with Fizzle or Clump, the haul would have their entire damn village to show for it!”

Ember rolled her eyes. “Honestly. I know the Dragon Lord agreed to have you come along for the ride. He likes volunteers. But who’d look at you and choose you to escort a diplomatic mission?”

“The Kämpfer did.” Garble glowered, thumbing at himself. “he picked me. So I’ll keep your wings from getting clipped.”

Ember snorted. “Oh, yes. Very clever. ‘How to train your delinquent youth in responsibility’... If anything happens to me, you’re dead if Dad gets his claws on you, y’know.”

“Shut it!” Garble snapped again, standing up and flaring his wings open, “your dad’s not here, or the Kämpfer! There ain’t nothing that could stop me from taking the sceptre and leaving you in a ditch! The only thing I’m getting out of this is probably some idea on what that thing was, beyond the ponies messing with us.”

“Well,” Ember said wistfully, taking two steps, back-and-forth before the fire, “Guess we’ll find that out soon enough.” She looked up, at the single bright dot illuminating a still-starless twilight sky. “If Dad’s right and that star-thing leads us there, we’ll be at the Hall of Unity in no time now…” She sighed. “And there’s gonna be a lot of talking involved.”

“The Kämpfer shoulda picked your Dad then.”

At this, Ember gave a peal of laughter. “C’mon. Can you picture Dad fitting into one of their rooms, no matter how big?”

“No, but it’s their fault, they always make ‘em too small.” Garble snorted. “Stupid ponies.”

“You know what else got made too small?” Ember sneered. “Your brains. Because if you think the Kämpfer, as you call him, isn’t here with us, you haven’t been paying attention.”

“Just because he’s powerful and huge doesn’t mean he’s everywhere.” Garble said, flapping his wings, “cos’ if he could, he would have just gone himself.”

“That’s what you think...” Ember told him smugly. Then came her stomach’s turn to growl. “Huh, will you listen to that. Really ought to get something in, partner, even if it’s just scraps. You say crackers is all you got?”

She checked her supplies, thought about it a minute, then she slashed her claw through the thick slice of meat, tearing it in two.

“‘Ere,” she said, tossing him the larger portion. “Eat. Not sure how much farther we got to go, best we keep up our strengths.”

Garble greedily ate the piece. Then he looked to the star-thing. “Did your dad have anything else to say ‘cept ‘follow the star’? I don’t think it’ll be that easy.”

Even with a smaller portion, Ember hadn’t finished munching when Garble asked this. She took a moment to chew, and swallow, before answering.

“No, no,” she said slowly. “That was pretty much it. He said the star, or whatever it is, had been sent to show us the fastest way there…” She paused, eyes tracing over the clearing. “Kinda like when the Dragon Lord calls a Gauntlet of Fire, I guess, ‘cept the whole world takes part and there’s no glowing involved. No clue who set it up–”

There. Right there, just at the edge of her vision. A shape, scurrying.

Ember snapped her head, wings flaring as they hadn’t since the raid, one set of claws outstretched and the other gripping the Sceptre tightly, her legs spread and her feet digging into the ground as she crouched into a defensive position.

Then she saw it. Hissing, she bared her fangs, and pounced, like greased lightning.

Chomp!

One bite was all it took. Sensing her success by the bulge in her cheeks, Ember raised herself back up, eyes swerving around to lock gazes with the flabbergasted Garble’s. Slow-witted though he was, she knew him for a fast attacker, yet she’d outdone him there.

The tip of the rat’s tail still hung from the corner of her mouth. Smirking, Ember nonchalantly threw her head back and sucked it down like a string of spaghetti – my, she did wish noodles were easier to come by – jaws closing on the rodent as it vanished down her throat with a wet slurp.

She released a blissful sigh, punctuated by a belch.

“Oh, ‘scuse me!” Ember hiccoughed, wiping her mouth with her free claw. “Now, you wouldn’t call that princess-y, eh, Garble? Admit it, this dragon’s got hunter’s instincts.”

“Whatever.” Garble muttered, standing up, “I’m going for a fly.” He opened out his wings. “Stay here with the stuff. I’ll be back later.”

He took flight. Ember watched him go without regret. As her eyes turned back to the fire and the bags of loot, though, the sense of having nothing to do caught up with her. Clutching the Sceptre to her chest, she slumped next to her bag.

For a while, other than tap her claws against the bag, she did nothing, staring pensively into the dancing flames. It was funny. The wild had been calling her back for years, and now she was back in the wild, Ember hardly knew what to do with it.

Then she tapped wood, beneath the fabric of the bag, and remembered. Delicately laying the Sceptre down on the coarse, brown grass, Ember hefted the bag open, and reached in, to pull out the one thing she hadn’t let Garble see her take during the raid.

“Ain’t you a beauty,” Ember murmured, stroking the length of the guitar. “Who’d have thought those bumpkins could build something so nice...”

It was not a shamisen, but it looked a lot like one. There were five strings rather than three, to begin with. No doubt because so many Klugetownites had hands and claws, rather than hooves. But that was good, the instrument felt much more natural in her grip for it.

After casting a quick glance upwards, Ember plucked a string. No, the guitar did not sound like what she knew. She wasn’t complaining. Spending just a few days back in a dragon’s life had already started getting old, in a different way from the fustiness of the Kirin Court.

Time to try something between old and new.

“You.” His voice boomed for what felt like miles, a single eye peering out from the mountain’s mouth. “Come closer, dragonet. Allow me to see you.”

Without any prompting from anyone else, not even her father, Ember slowly approached the mountain. She ignored the presence of the eyes of others, instead focusing solely on the Chaoskämpfer’s gaze.

“What is your name, Dragonet?” he asked softly, yet there was so much power, behind the words of High Draconic.

“E-Ember,” she answered after a moment, “my name is Ember, daughter of the current Dragon Lord, oh wise one.”

There was a pregnant pause before the mountain shook, the eye disappeared from the mouth and instead a single, large claw emerged. The edges of two talons reached out and softly touched Ember’s head.

“You are mistaken, Ember,” the Chaoskämpfer replied, “you are not solely daughter of the current Lord, you will serve us all. You are to answer the Call and go to the equines for us.”

“G-Great Chaoskämpfer, I–”

“Trust in yourself, dragonet. Your potential is only bound if you yourself allow it.” the Chaoskämpfer intoned, pulling back his claw into the mountain’s mouth. “I present you with what you will need when meeting the others.”

The claw re-emerged, yet this time a pair of talons were pinched together, with a canister of some kind between them. Without any hesitation, Ember accepted it...

“It’s warm.” Ember whispered with wonder and wide eyes. The claw vanished back into the mountain and the eye returned.

“It holds flames of mine,” the Chaoskämpfer said, voice booming once more, “it will provide you what you need whenever used.”

“Thank you, oh wise one.” Ember said, bowing her head.

“Stupid whelp.” Garble grumbled, tossing another cracked boulder. There was nothing worthwhile in it, not so much as a bit of iron ore or gemstone. “Stupid princess.” He slammed his tail against the ground, “stupid– hrff.”

He stopped to huff, smoke exhaling from his maw.

Called back to the Dragon Lands, even though this wasn’t the Gauntlet. No, whatever this was felt different, almost bigger than that. Sure enough, everyone showed up and no one had any idea what it was. Not even Lord Torch, and he had the Sceptre!

No, instead it was the Chaoskämpfer. Those ponies had their fancy Alicorn Princesses to look up to. The greatest two anyones their dumb little heads could come up with, supposed to be the greatest beings on Equus.

“They move the Sun and the Moon! They got horns and wings!”

Bah! The ponies still didn’t know what they were talking about, even after they got the second one back. All dragons knew the only real creature you wanted was the Kämpfer.

“Nobody disrespects the Kämpfer.” Garble had heard plenty of times while getting his wings, “not you, not me, and not even the Dragon Lord.”

And had this been last week, with Fizzle and Clump, Garble would’ve brushed this off. The Chaoskämpfer hadn’t been seen in ages. If anything lay in that mountain, surely it was just bones and junk. Nothing worthwhile, or someone would’ve cleared it out by now.

That was how hoards worked, after all.

But, Garble had been wrong. The Kämpfer was alive and he knew what the Call was – the ponies wanted something. And out of all the dragons, the Kämpfer picked the Dragon Lord’s whelp. Picked her, and then charged him to go with her.

“You.” The Chaoskämpfer’s voice boomed from the mountain, just as Garble was about to finish his joke. It couldn’t possibly… “Garble, step forward.”

Despite him being stunned, his legs moved and he approached the mouth of the mountain. The princess had something in her claws, but she kept silent. All so that Garble could see that eye.

It knew everything, just like the rep said it would.

“Speak,” the voice commanded, to which Garble let out a hiss of breath.

“You… asked for me, sir?” Garble said, his words of Low Draconic sounding vulgar in his ears, compared to that High Draconic.

The eye stayed on him, making Garble feel so small. So tiny…

“Do you not consider yourself strong? Mighty and powerful like all dragons?”

“I, uh, yes. I do. What of it… sir?”

“You will do,” the Kämpfer said after a moment. “You are to escort Princess Ember to the ponies. Make sure she is not to be harmed or delayed. Time is of the essence.”

Garble felt like something had crushed him. “But, sir–”

“Am I so hard to hear?” the mighty voice boomed.

Garble watched as the eye curved ever so slightly, making the weight feel heavier.

“If you are strong, you will do as you’re told,” intoned the voice of Elder Spykoran, the Chaoskämpfer.

Garble sighed, massaging his eyes.

Even in memory, the Kämpfer’s presence lay heavy.

‘Better get on with it.’ Garble thought, spreading his wings. ‘Sooner I get the princess to the ponies, the sooner this is all over.’

And so he took off, heading back to the camp.

He kept his mind empty as he flew, but in the back of his head, that single eye kept glaring at him. Judging him.

‘Nobody disrespects the Kämpfer.’ Garble thought, ‘nobody.’

* * * * *

Ember’s moment of bliss with her ill-acquired guitar ended far too quickly, as a familiar, yet unwelcome, hulking red drake flapped to land back at the campfire. Garble didn’t say anything, but his look of surprise was unmistakable.

She stopped in mid-tune, sighing.

“Back so soon?” Ember asked him, not trying to hide her disappointment.

Of course, she’d known she couldn't keep the instrument hidden forever. Music carried, especially in the dead of night. But that didn’t mean she looked forward to the boulderhead mocking her hobby.

“Fine. You caught me in the act, Garble.” She lay the guitar across her lap. “Well, out with it. Go on, tell me it’s a waste of space. At least I know you won’t try stealing it from me. All you can think of is filling your hoard with gems and gold. Goes to show, you’re a cretin.”

She braced herself for whatever spiteful retort he’d come up with.

“That was…” Garble said, “pretty nice.”

And the unexpectedness of this almost made her fall over.

“Whu–?” Disorientated, Ember clutched at her guitar like a drowning lizard grasping a branch in a flood. “D’you hit yourself on the head out there?”

“I... don’t think so?” blinked Garble, giving his head a rub. “I mean, what you said, that wasn’t very nice. But the music wasn’t half bad.”

He wasn’t the only one who blinked. Ember did several times.

“What in the world would you know about music?” She wanted to sneer, yet the compliment was just too unusually kind of him. “I’m sure the only music you’ve ever made’s involved belching contests or bashing rocks.”

And damn her if Garble didn’t have the gall to look more hurt than affronted by this.

“Well, yes,” he said, sidling a bit closer to her. “But that’s what makes this so nice.”

Ember remembered a proverb old Kuno had once taught her. ‘Music soothes the savage beast.’ Like so many Kirin proverbs, she’d thought it a load of tosh. Now she was beginning to wonder if there’d been value to it.

“Whatever you say,” she commented, relaxing slightly. She picked the guitar back up. “Don’t bother me, and we won’t have a problem.”

But as she was fine-tuning, she found herself eyeing Garble, who was just sitting there, watching her curiously.

“Actually,” Ember began, reluctantly. “Since you’re here, and no-one’s going anyplace soon, what do you say, Garble? How about some good ol’ dragon-song? I’ve been dying to do that for years, and now, with this girl here… Could be fun...”

The red drake smiled lopsidedly. “Sounds nice. I wouldn’t mind hearing you sing.”

Ember slapped her forehead. “I meant I play, you sing, idiot.”

“Oh…” Garble suddenly looked uncertain. “Well, don’t know if I’ve got the best singing voice. Doubt it’s as good as how you play, Your Highness.”

She was silent, her eyes narrowing.

And then she blew a stream of purple fire straight at a yelping Garble, who dodged it merely by an inch, more down to luck than anything else.

* * * * *

Garble couldn’t believe his eyes.

‘What the–’ He thought the moment he saw himself already there with the Dragon Lord’s daughter. Thankfully, she was smart enough to try and burn the impostor, just as Garble began to touch down to the campsite.

“Hey!” he shouted, getting the other two’s attention, “what’s this supposed to be!?” Smoke was starting to trail from his maw and nostrils.

Ember glanced his way, then at the impostor and back again, eyes lighting up.

“Perfect timing!” she shouted, dropping something she’d been holding, her arms spread akimbo in a fighting stance. “Get over here now, knucklehead! We got Changelings!”

“Changelings?” Garble echoed, grinning. “Well, that’s interesting. Let’s fry ‘em up–”

Before he could finish, he felt a huge mass ram into him and knock him to the ground. His back was sore, but getting slammed while caught off-guard hurt his pride more than anything.

* * * * *

Ember saw her so-called bodyguard instantly go down to a massive, orange-red beetle-like figure with a velvet mane – a warrior of the Red Hive, no doubt. She hissed at his stupidity, but stood her ground, turning her attention back to the fake Garble at her feet. The real deal could take care of himself just fine.

Not so the impostor. He was whimpering and quivering beneath her, with a look of fright in his eyes which made her wonder how she’d ever mistaken him for Garble.

Hissing, Ember shot out her claw to clasp his neck. ‘Garble’ was still taller than her, but all she wanted was to pull the impostor to his knees, which she did, him squirming in her grasp as she leveled her eyes to his.

“How many?” she whispered, turning her most vicious glare on him.

He mumbled incoherently and tried looking away, but she flicked her wrist, forcing his head back sharply.

“How many!” Ember repeated, ignoring his cry of pain. “Tell me, roach!”

The fake dragon panted and wheezed, eyes half-shut, but he croaked something out. “Be… be…”

“What?”

“Behind you.”

Her blood ran cold. Slowly, Ember turned. She was in time to see another Changeling finish metamorphosing back into his true form.

The very log she’d been seated on had been a soldier of the Ebony Hive all along.

“‘Bout time,” he smirked, fangs parting in an unpleasant grin. “Hang on in there, you dolt,” the soldier said, speaking to the hapless not-Garble. “And watch how your big brother sorts this one out.”

* * * * *

Garble growled, pushing himself up, only for something to stomp and push him down.

“Come now,” the roach that attacked him from behind said, “show me the strength a dragon possesses. Show me the fire that burns within–”

“Get off, oversized bug!”

Roaring, Garble snapping his head into the roach’s face – which impacted, stunning it. He forced himself to his feet, before turning and lashing out with a swipe. While his claws were not sharp enough to draw blood from the orange-red chitin, they damaged it. Three lines were left carved on the right side of the roach’s face.

“Heh!” Garble mocked, flexing his claws. “Not so tough when you’re fighting someone up front, are ya, roach?”

Instead of answering, the orange-red bug regained its balance and stood. A light glow shone from the twin horns, the claw-marks on its face vanishing as the chitin began to repair itself. Not to mention how Garble saw the chitin noticeably thicken all over its body...

“You’ll see how tough I am, scum,” the roach said, eyes glaring straight into Garble’s.

“It’s Garble!” he retorted, wings spread wide as he leapt at his foe.

* * * * *

All her life, Ember had prided herself on her fighting prowess. Three years in the Kirin Court hadn’t stamped that out. If anything, those three years had only honed qualities she knew few other dragons possessed, such as smarts and swiftness.

Yet it all counted for naught as she faced the purple-eyed, crimson-finned soldier of the Ebony Hive.

“Get back,” she snarled, tightening her grip around not-Garble’s throat. “This here’s your brother, you say? You take one more step, and I swear, I’ll wring his scrawny neck.”

“No.” The soldier chuckled lightly. “I don’t think so. My neck, perhaps, if you could wring it. But not his. Look at him. He’s hurt, he’s beaten, he’s too scared to transform. You’re not the type who’d do a thing like that, not to someone like him.”

Ember felt her breath catch. She tried to tell herself, hard, that the soldier hadn’t got her figured out. Yet, force herself though she might to keep her gaze on her opponent, in the corner of her eyes, her eyes kept pulling her towards the trembling impostor.

Why should it matter if she crushed his carapace then and there? He was just a Changeling. A roach. Stealing people’s goods was one thing; Changelings stole their very emotions. Nobody would mourn a squished parasite…

But then she saw her captive staring at her pleadingly, and knew she couldn't do it.

“Alright…” Ember said quietly.

Releasing her grip, she let him drop unceremoniously to the ground. He scuttled off for safety, still a dragon, too frightened to turn back in any sense of the word. Yet Ember was no longer thinking about him.

“There. Done,” she said, raising both her fists as she stared down the soldier. “Now let’s make this a proper fight.”

He smiled, teeth gleaming yellow in the firelight. “My pleasure. This means I bag you.”

Ember scarcely had time to realise her mistake as he short thick, sticky strands of green that lassoed themselves around her fists, followed closely by two more strands around her heels. Before she knew it, pain ran up both sets of her joints, as they were pulled together and she was sent tumbling, arms and legs cuffed in Changeling wax.

* * * * *

Garble narrowly managed to duck, avoiding the roach’s strike. He had to admit, this one was tricky to deal with, seeing how every time he tried to damage her chitin, she would heal. Well, heal and then adjust from that attack.

‘Damn bug is strong, too.’ he thought, swinging his tail to try and knock her down, only for her to dodge and then strike him sideways. Sending him stumbling back a step.

He wheezed, struggling to think against the pain.

‘What would dragonfyre do…’

“Is this the best you’re capable of?” the roach taunted, “I’ve faced creatures far more deadly than you, and they’ve given me much more of a challenge.”

Despite the attack on his ego, Garble focused and, leaping with outstretched claws, carved two long slashes into his opponent’s chest. He again hadn’t drawn any blood, but the underbelly was exposed now.

But this opening allowed the roach to strike him twice, knocking him to the ground, and nearly all the wind out of him.

She stood over him, a hazy blur, her forelegs pinning him.

“And I was led to believe dragons were wise…” the roach hissed, pressing down on Garble’s chest as her chitin began to recover. “You must be the dumbest drake to ever–”

‘Now.’

He focused his rage and blew his fire directly into the Changeling’s chest. The flames easily entered the gaps created by his claw-cuts, and the Changeling reared up, crying in pain. Following up on this as the Changeling stumbled back from the fire, Garble quickly swung onto his stomach, his tail swerving around to hit his opponent.

Garble chuckled, rising to his feet. Much to his satisfaction, when he turned, not only did the roach sound distressed – lying on the ground clutching her underbelly – she looked it, too.

“Stupid roach,” he laughed. “This is what you get for messing with me–”

His taunt died in his throat as a flash of green caught his eye.

In the trashed campsite, there stood a huge, horrific creature which dwarfed even the huge Red Warrior – a cross between a scarab and a spider, all six of its purple eyes fixed right towards him and little legs scuttling as it emitted a piercing, howling shriek which almost blew him off his feet.

“Oh, for the Kämpfer’s sake!” Garble shouted, one claw shielding his face, bracing himself for another fight.

* * * * *

No matter how Ember grunted and heaved, lying face down in the dirt, there was nothing she could do – the Changeling wax bound her wrists, arms and heels tight, and would not break. An insect’s shriek and Garble cursing echoed dimly in her ear. Groaning, Ember craned her neck as best she could, to see what was going on past her shoulder.

From what she could make out in the blur, the Ebony soldier had assumed the new form of a nightmarish insect-hybrid, and was busy taking on Garble. No sign of the Red Warrior, from where she lay. Garble must have got the better of them.

‘One thing he’s good for…’

But it wasn’t looking good. Both fighters were locked in a grunt-filled wrestling match of claws and pincers – at one point, the transmogrified Ebony soldier looked about to swallow Garble whole, before the red drake landed a stinging blow that forced him off. It didn’t keep the soldier away for long, however, as seconds later, each was back at it for more. Even from afar, Ember sensed that slowly but surely, Garble was getting tired.

She tugged, again to no avail. If she didn’t free herself, and soon, the Changelings would have won, and they’d both be taken back to the Hives for feeding…

On reflex, her head craned in the other direction, to where she’d been sitting on what she’d thought was a log. Their bags of loot were there, strangely undisturbed by the fight, as were the guitar, her armour, and – the Bloodstone Sceptre.

If only she could reach it…

Digging her snout into the ground, Ember wriggled, and pulled, trying to drag herself forward.
With her legs locked together and arms locked to her sides, the effort of spreading her weight was an attack on her nerves. Barely a short tug later, her face slumped on the ground once more, leaving her exhaling, painfully.

‘It’s… it’s too far…’

Yet was her mind playing tricks on her, or had one of the nearby pebbles moved a few inches closer, from her view? Because if it had, that meant she could move. Not quickly, not elegantly, but she could crawl, worm-like, all the way to the Sceptre.

She pulled, this time with a push of her knees helping as best it could. From behind, she heard Garble yowl. She didn’t want to know why.

Again she pulled. Grit got in her mouth, and she spat, trying to stay quiet. Worse was the grit in her eye, making it sting and water.

‘C’mon… c’mon!’

Shaking her head in an attempt to lose the grit – which only seemed to make it worse – Ember clenched her teeth, keeping her eyes forward as best she could. She needed to focus on the Sceptre, nothing else.

Was this an illusion, or was it closer than she’d thought? Its hilt lay not two paces from her. All she’d have to do was rub it against her scales, and she’d lay claim to its power.

Then Ember heard a small, stifled gasp, halting her. Lurking just on the edge of her watery eyesight, there was another drone of the Ebony Hive. She’d been spotted.

Despair welled up within her. Any second now, she’d be dragged off, and with it, away from her last hope.

Except she wasn’t.

Surprised, Ember glanced at the little drone. There was something she recognised…

And then she realised. It was the timid look in its eyes. She was looking at the true form of the one she’d spared.

The drone stared at her, unblinking. Ember did blink. Or thought she did. Because the next moment, the drone was gone. She couldn’t explain it any other way.

‘Why?’

No time to dwell on that. With a groan of determination, Ember let the adrenaline surge through her, closing the gap between her and her Sceptre in an inch-high forward leap on her belly.

The tip of her snout hit the Sceptre’s hilt, and it was done. Responding to her, the Bloodstone magic coursed through her body where she willed it to, making her veins shine with inner fire – turning the wax which held her captive to stone.

A dragon could easily break stone. With one mighty pull, Ember heard a satisfying ‘crack’ as her arms and legs wrenched themselves free. It was almost by instinct that the very first thing her claws did was to seize the Sceptre.

* * * * *

The sound of clapping hooves echoed through the clearing.

“Ooh, well done,” giggled a devious voice. “Well done indeed. What a show!”

Ember froze on the spot, and not far away, even Garble, still locked in battle with the mutant insect-thing, was given cause for pause.

A single, tiny mistake that might have proven fatal – had the Ebony soldier not chosen that moment to also relax his grip. The green flames of Changeling transformation enveloped the soldier, and while they did not burn Garble, the soldier’s resumption of his true, smaller form left the red drake clutching at thin air.

Before the startled Garble could react, the soldier was already flying off, buzzing.

“We’ll settle this another time,” he called back, grinning. “You give a good fight.”

Little time was given for Ember to process all this, as a rustle in the jungle foliage announced the arrival of a new player. She saw a great palm leaf brushed aside by a black mottled, hole-ridden forehoof, and from the jungle depths, out stepped–

Her grip tightened around the Sceptre more than she’d thought possible. Without her scales, Ember would have drawn blood.

“Chrysalis,” she whispered, wings flaring.

“You’ve heard of me?” the Changeling Queen of the Ebony Hive smiled mockingly. “How flattering, for a meek old soul like me.”

Ember growled. “Stay back, or I’ll sic Garble on you. And I’m sure you’ve heard of this.” She thrust out the Sceptre, pointing its tip at Chrysalis like a spear’s.

But Chrysalis reacted with an expression of calm indifference.

“I’m so, so sorry, dragonet,” she cooed, lightly pushing away the tip, unfazed over touching a lethal magical artifact. “I am a Hive Queen… More than that, I am the Queen of Queens. And I’m afraid your little stone-stick won’t work on me.”

She gave Ember a toothy grin.

“Now, will you please tell your attack-dog over there to give to poor Mandible her space? She’s on loan from Queen Halidae, who in turn borrowed her off the Red Hive. And I don’t think Hally would like it if I lost her stuff. Least of all her daughter…”

Chrysalis’ head swiveled back, and she called out to the jungle.

“Come out, come out, Papillate. Show’s over.”

With trepidation, a smaller Changeling ambled out, into the campfire-lit clearing. Ember, Kuno’s lessons springing back to mind, recognised her grey-specked mane and tail as the marks of a youngster. These blended jarringly with the diamond-patterned green chitin identifying her as of the Harlequin Hive.

The youngster threw Ember an anxious glance, saying nothing. By all appearances, it was a comfort for her when Chrysalis extended a wing protectively, placing her in its shadow.

Ember scowled. “Why should I let you have your Red Warrior back?”

“My’, Princess Ember,” Chrysalis said, with an air of shock. “What will you father say when he learns he made all those investments into a Kirin education, with so little to show for it?

Ember heard a snort from behind her. Apparently, Garble had found this the height of wit. She hoped he couldn’t see her blush.

“Why, politeness, of course,” said Chrysalis. “Mandible and the others simply greeted you like I asked them to.”

“You attacked us.”

Chrysalis cocked her head. “Oh, did I? My mistake. I thought that was how you dragons say ‘hello’.”

This time, Garble was unable to resist breaking out into laughter.

“Alright, alright,” snarled Ember. “Quit it, boulderhead.” Even if they both hadn’t been battered from the fighting, she knew Garble wouldn’t put as much heart into combatting someone he found so amusing. “Give Chrysalis back her warrior-roach.”

Moments after, the ground shook a little as the groaning mass of the Red Warrior lumbered over to Queen Chrysalis’ end of the clearing.

Garble sat by the bags, while Ember gingerly backed away to get closer to him, choosing to remain standing upright without taking Chrysalis out of her sights.

“What do you want, Chrysalis?” she demanded. “What’s the Queen of Queen doing out here with a Harlequin Queen-in-Waiting and a Red Warrior for companions?”

And the truth was, she did want to know. This was obviously more than a hunting expedition.

Chrysalis blew her cheeks. “What, you won’t even offer me a seat? How unlady-like, Princess Ember.” She sighed. “Never mind, we’ll take one of our own. Come here, Papillate.”

The Ebony Queen indicated to the youngster that they could sit on one of the many logs that were still placed around the campfire. She sat first, cross-legged, while the youngster, rather than sit by her, followed a commanding gesture from Chrysalis and leapt into her lap.

“Good girl,” Chrysalis crooned, stroking her back like a cat’s.

The sight made Ember’s scales crawl.

“Why are you here,” she asked again, “and where are you going?”

Chrysalis’ translucent, hypnotic bug-eyes stared right into her. “The same place as you, I believe,” said the Queen. “We got… a call, is how I’d describe it. Young Papilllate was at the centre of it, and I was lucky to see. We’ve got a moving star to follow,” she pointed upwards, “that’ll lead us to somewhere on the borders of Equestria.”

The Queen of Queens cackled lowly.

“And if Princess Celestia herself invites me into her midst, how can I possibly refuse...”

Author's Note:

Spectrum 2.1 - Autumn 2021

VoxAdam:

• This chapter features no noteworthy modifications, although Discord and Fluttershy totally did what you think they did.

Spectrum 2.0 - February 16th 2019

VoxAdam: Yes, this is another long chapter, after we’d collectively made the New Year’s Resolution to attempt showing more restraint over writing lengthy chapters, in a desire to learn from the experience of splitting what are now Chapter Eight (‘An Opening’) and Chapter Nine (‘The Heart Goes Last’) from what used to be one monolithic chapter.

I promise the current size of this chapter is set against a larger context of pacing for the overall story we’ve got in storage; nobody on the Team will consider it a spoiler to reveal now that this is the penultimate chapter of what’s been dubbed ‘Act One’, with plans already set up for a somewhat shorter ‘Act Two’.

The prolonged segment in the middle of this chapter, where the whole of the local cast are introduced to both Alex and Galatea at last, came about from a desire to converge the preceding chapters’ threads so it’d no longer be required to keep track of which character knew about Alex and Galatea, or the broad strokes of what they were up to. As it seemed natural the cast would learn of them in due time, placing them in one formal event felt like the quickest and cleanest way to go about it.

Following its initial published state, prior to the tweak to shuffle another scene to Chapter Twelve on May 01st 2019, one reader mentioned they had a little difficulty getting a grasp on the opening scene of Amira and Qabil. This was something of a deliberate effect, with the reveal that the scene was set in the prison of Erebus intended to be disorientating. I hope that it didn’t work too well…

As with the scene of Blueblood and Awesome Fire that’s since been shuffled to the next chronological chapter, this scene came about from a collaboration with RoyalPsycho. Awesome is his OC, and the author sometimes deserves the moniker. :-)

Thanks, as always, to TheIdiot for giving the greenlight on this chapter.

~Vox

RoyalPsycho: I’m not really a regular member of the team, more of a consultant for other authors. However, I am happy to do my part and I’m glad to see that my correspondence with VoxAdam and the others is properly contributing to the story, even if it is only side-material.

DoctorFluffy: I’ve been…. distant, lately. Busy on my projects. Playing spacelords and warframe. But mostly those last two things.

I’m glad to have helped.

Comments

[More Dakka]

I can't remember if this version has got in the box before so I'll just say now congrats on the feature.

[Edguy0009]

Chrysalis cocked her head. “Oh, did I? My mistake. I thought that was how you dragons say ‘hello’.”

Pfft...snerk...HA HA HA HA HA!

[TheIdiot]

9460465 Thank you.

[Yutah123]

Well, the first part of this chapter bemused me. Couldn't get a grip on the setting at all. Discord’s little comment way later helped cleared things a bit, though.

---

“‘All that glitters is not gold’,” Rainbow quoted sagely. “I learnt that with Lightning Dust.”

Everytime I see this phrase, I can’t help but think of The Lord of the Rings.

---

I’ve read the fourteenth comic some time ago, and thanks to that I have a better image of this global meeting. Quite a few similarities, though of course the subject of this one is much heavier.

[Doctor Fluffy]

9460772
We're glad you like it! Especially because personally, I can't read the old story anymore. I just... there's a blank spot where the part of me that enjoyed it used to be. FFFT. Gone.

[AppleTank]

holy shit, warn us when you're dropping a 27k brick down.

[TheIdiot]

9460916 Apologies.

[Jed R]

🤨
Blimey

[keroko]

Not was it something Celestia, her beloved mentor who was standing right there, looking at them with such fondness, could ever have done to him.

Nor

“Yupperoonie!” Pinkie said brightly. “I’ve always believed the universe provides when you need it the most.”

Canon alicorns in a nutshell. Unicorns are starting to have trouble with the sun and the moon and need a bit more push in unification? Poof! Celestia and Luna. Evil forces out to twist Equestria's love? Poof! Cadance, alicorn or Love and Family to the scene. Equestria nice and stable but the lands outside of it in various troubles? Poof! Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship, reporting for duty.

Also, I maintain my desire to strangle Icewind. At least he's a lot more... hmmm, not relatable, but... understandable? than he was in the previous Spectrum, where he just sorta popped up and started spouting his racism and treason out of nowhere. He's still an idiot, but at least we now know the mistakes he made to jump to his conclusions.

And hey! Garble in a maybe-kinda-not-asshole role. That's new, more of that please!

[Mr cold ghost]

Don’t call me Shirley! I love that movie just recently rewatched it! As always it is fun to read chrysalis acting the villain! Anyway I look forward to the next chapter as always!

[Drunken Logic]

I hate how much I love this story.

Every time I finish a chapter I'm left hungering for more. It just has that sort of plot that spurs you on.

I await the moment the actual shit hits the fan: when equestria and the world at large are told of the conflict they face. Ye gods, can I not wait.

[TheIdiot]

9464689 This chapter is almost 30,000 words. I think you can a little bit more for the sh*t to hit the fan.

[AvidSeason]

私の地図に載っていない 道に立ちたい
ねえ 生まれつき
ねえ 臆病な人なんていない
初めてのように歩きたい

[Drunken Logic]

9464879

Oh, 100% I'm willing to wait, apologies. I dashed that comment off at work off my error-prone phone. What I meant is I think it speaks to the quality of the writing that I always feel regret when I get to the end of a new chapter, even as long as you all tend to release them. Been a while since I had a story like this that had me hooked so much, side-stories included.

I'm especially enjoying seeing the changes you've all made; it really does feel like a refined version of the original's very rough idea. I enjoyed the first one, but I enjoyed it for what it was; cathartic "take that" shlock (no offense). The idea was excellent, but you could tell the execution was rough, and it delved down the rabbit hole of confusing plot threads fairly often.

This feels like a very well-executed refinement of the original idea, and I don't think I could go back to the original after having read it. It flows much better, the pacing feels more well thought-out, and the worldbuilding is significantly better executed, both in construction and in terms of "show, don't tell". Every chapter leaves me hanging to see where the plot winds its way next.

I'm interested to see how you decided to tap into the true gruesome horror of the concept this time around; I've seen hints of it with Doctor Fluffy's "Light Despondent Remix" (another excellent showing), but the main story hasn't really gotten into the thick of it. I think the build-up this time around, however, will server the horror elements much better than having it crammed into your face at stage 1, turned up to 11, and then breaking the throttle off and firing it into the sun. Again, pacing. It helps.

Thanks for putting together such an excellent story. I'm very much enjoying it.

[TheIdiot]

9465506 You'll be getting it in the future. We got wonderful toys coming that will be a hit.

[shadysandycity]

The very books I read state that the Call can only be given when things are at their most dire.

Wot. Is the sudden change in perspective intentional
I didn't get the feeling from previous chapters this was being told by a narrator

In any case, I adore this story. The original TOSOTS was just... Ugh. Couldnt make it past the fifth chapter IIRC. But this is loads better in ways I'm not eloquent or awake enough to articulate. Cant wait for more!

[angel3591]

An "ansible" you say? Pretty terrifying the way its described, almost no magic yet highly sophisticated, cold and soulless (just like the Empire itself). Once again awesome chapter, keep up the scary(awesome) tech of the Solar Empire! Let's see what other monstrosities they can come up with!

[VoxAdam]

9461157

Also, I maintain my desire to strangle Icewind. At least he's a lot more... hmmm, not relatable, but... understandable? than he was in the previous Spectrum, where he just sorta popped up and started spouting his racism and treason out of nowhere. He's still an idiot, but at least we now know the mistakes he made to jump to his conclusions.

And hey! Garble in a maybe-kinda-not-asshole role. That's new, more of that please!

It was promised that Icewind's downward turn would be more of a slow burn in Spectrum 2.0. That, in addition to characters being a little less compartmentalised into "good" or "evil" slots. Except for Chrysalis, who puts the "evil" back in Token Evil Teammate.

When referring to this slightly-positive side of Garble, I presume you're not referring to the moment where Ember spotted a certain meek Changeling masquerading as Garble because he acted uncharacteristically nice towards her – e.g. the complete opposite reason to why Changelings are poor impersonators on the show.

But I did like how while writing the dragons' scene, the portrayal of a not-so-nice Ember in her pre-friendship days found its counterweight in Garble possessing a sense of loyalty.

9487937

When the Empire finally shows up front-and-centre, it may be different from what you'd expect. We've had Charlie Brooker's Black Mirror to remind us that most technology isn't inherently "good" or "evil", only the way in which it's used.

9465506

Thanks, this is the sort of comment which encourages the story to keep going.

[keroko]

9494537
Well, current Icewind is definitely a massive improvement over the old Icewind.

As for Garble, I was not referring to the changeling doing a terrible Garble impression, no. In the show -and by extension, the fandom- Garble is almost always used as the obstacle to overcome, so he's just an idiot teenager with no redeeming values. So this Garble who, while still an idiot teenager, at least has values of loyalty and something of a sense of duty is very refreshing.

[Sledge115]

9495457

We thought the way his resignation and bigotry was portrayed had the subtlety of a sledgehammer, so I'm glad you found the slow burn approach (but still ultimately misguided) to be working

[Dances With Unicorns]

As association football or soccer is the world’s most popular team sport, I would love to see this game included in the SPECTRUM universe. Imagine a slice of life chapter where a central character organizes two football teams and then they enjoy a just for fun football game.

[DDDDDDDDD23]

catseye is the tabloid journalist of science.
She makes things up that get her readers.

[Dances With Unicorns]

Imagine Pegasus ponies using tandem skydiving harnesses to get airborne Earth ponies and Unicorn ponies whose magic is not strong enough to use a levitation spell to fly. That method of flying is far safer than holding someone else in your forelegs. Tandem skydiving harnesses can be used for Earth ponies and Unicorn ponies to travel on business or pleasure, or for the thrill of flying. In the military, tandem skydiving harnesses can be used as a way to silently get Earth and Unicorn ponies into places undetected by any hostile forces.

[Admiral Q Ponyform]

I don't get why Ember would steal.

[gakposter]

Upon rereading, I have come to a conclusion that did not occur to me before...

Fluttershy and Discord fuuucked

[VoxAdam]

10150448 I prefer the term 'make love' myself...

[DoctorWhooves1]

So in these Equestrias Cadance was born an unicorn instead of a pegasus like she was in canon.

[TheIdiot]

10440656 Gotta love differences made from later expanded canon and whatnot.

[Starcat5]

“Shh, easy there,” Discord grinned. “Nopony’s more deserving of a rest, my dear, and all my effort fighting Havok these past few days, too, would have gone to waste, unless…”

And with the formalities out of the way, I now realize that Discord and Fluttershy's union here might bare fruit beyond giving Flutters a reason to beat her counterpart black and blue. Time will tell.

[TheSneek]

Clever.

The Chaoskampf is the near-universal concept of Divine Order warring against Primal Chaos, usually embodied in a myth about either a Folk Hero or a Sky God slaying a giant serpent… or a dragon.

[Pensive]

“‘All that glitters is not gold’,” Rainbow quoted sagely. “I learnt that with Lightning Dust.”

But only shootin' stars break the mold~

[Fiddlove Enfemme]

“But, ‘home’, you call this, Shiney? Our crystal subjects won’t be pleased to hear it.” Cadance elbowed her husband. “After all, home is where the Heart is.”

Hehe, i like puns

“Yes,” she said quietly. “But… after you leave, I don’t think I’m going to be staying in Equestria.”

This is an interesting proposition. She could take the place of Ambassador Lyra and the propaganda machine could do its work. It would be like a reverse Redheart, except both Redhearts are still alive right now. Of course, this Lyra isn't the SAME Lyra, but that's small beans.

“I… ah…” Alex grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, video game reference. You wouldn’t get it.”

For the record, I didn't get it either and I like to think I'm well versed in video game pop culture.

“Rise and shine, Miss Flutterbird,” whispered a sibilant voice. “Rise and… shine.”

Time, Miss Flutterbird? Is it really that time again? It seems as if you only just arrived.

“Those zebra dancers were something,” Fluttershy agreed, surprising herself. “Even if it was maybe just a teensy bit too loud.”

Fluttershy is attracted to women. It's canon, because I said so.

“Alternate dimensions, evil copies and more…,” he mused. “Gotta say, in hindsight, picked the best time for me to stop being a statue. I’m enjoying this world.”

You are a fool and a charlatan.

Discord snorted. “Maybe to you it doesn’t. But just because you can’t remember, doesn’t mean you don’t want something. I’m a creature of Chaos, and I couldn’t lift a finger. That hurts, Fluttershy. It hurts a lot.”

This might be the closest he's come to vulnerability this far. That's interesting to me, really.

“But this is different,” Shining said. “There’s an enemy out there calling itself Equestria. It’s the only Equestria these human beings have ever known, and it’s doing… this to them. We’ve got to restore Equestria’s honour!”

Settle down, Zuko.

“I understand why you’d consider duty especially important at this time,” said Celestia. “Yet remember, in this crisis, help may arrive from the least likely of places.”

Precisely. When you're dealing with a threat such as this, it's all hooves on deck. All options should be considered, even allying with former enemies and forgiving long-held grudges. That's not to say that morality should be thrown out the window, lest ye risk becoming the beast which you sought to destroy. Staring into the abyss, as they say.

“‘All that glitters is not gold’,” Rainbow quoted sagely. “I learnt that with Lightning Dust.”

Dash, you might be an avid reader, but I don't think this is quite as accurate as you might believe.

Twilight just pressed him harder, fighting down the tears she felt welling up. Shining Armor… her big brother, her best friend forever. He could never do what she’d seen him do in Alexander Reiner’s memories. Impossible.

Good soldiers follow orders... good soldiers follow orders... good soldiers follow orders

“Then you’re in luck, nephew,” she said calmly. “Today’s a day for many meetings.”

Careful, I think someone's been reading JRR's works a little too much. Or maybe I'm just a mega nerd.

And to the left was a tall pony, a grey mare wearing a threadbare, patchwork cloak, a pair of goggles covering her eyes.

Goggles!

“Actually, I’m sure my superiors would love to hear that,” said Reiner. “It’d be us playing with fire as badly as we did with nukes, but by God, they’ll want someone like you to take on the Solar Tyrant.”

oh no, not again
wait no, he's not doubling as a self-insert this time
yaaay

“Princess Cadance,” Reiner said, pre-empting Lyra as he stared at the surprised Princess of Love. “You, I know. Or at least, I know another you. She no longer calls herself a princess. All the lesser princes and princesses of Equestria were driven out, or ‘vanished’, by the Tyrant. But you, you threw in your lot with us. For Lyra, and the Equestria you loved.”

Respect. For someone like the human, that's something that's hard to earn.

“Excuse me?” Galena said, her own expression growing bemused. She lifted her goggles, revealing a pair of icy blue eyes.

That's how a lot of folks react when meeting Pinkie for the first time, hidden identities not-with-standing

“Just means I’ll have to make the few we have extra special ! ” Pinkie crowed. “If things will get as bad as I think, we need something to keep us happy.”

This is a laudable sentiment, but I've got a bad feeling about how the human might react to some of Pinkie's more... explosive party elements. Especially if it's a surprise party.

“Nope,” said Lyra. “Matter of fact, she sounded very interested in the idea of an expedition.”

I think they might end up borrowing Blueblood and that airship for this. Fastest way to travel.

“Lyra…” Somehow, this felt like the hardest thing Twilight had ever done. “I met Moondancer.”

Friends! And the ones who got left behind.

Icewind gave the name on the frontispiece another look over. Doctor Catseye . The single name to pop up the most in contemporary human studies. Depending on how the wind blew, he might try and contact her in person.

Uh oh. He's "doing his own research".
Not the good kind, but the kind where you cherry pick things that conform to your existing biases without considering the academic merit of the source you're using.
Facebook research.

Garble greedily ate the piece. Then he looked to the star-thing. “Did your dad have anything else to say ‘cept ‘follow the star’? I don’t think it’ll be that easy.”

jesus moment
but only the "follow the star" part

“We’ll settle this another time,” he called back, grinning. “You give a good fight.”

I don't think starting a fight is the best way to endear your prospective allies

Aaaaaaaand sceeeene!

A little more setup, following on the heels of the last chapter. I was a little surprised at the little scuffle at the end there, but at least it's not action being injected merely for the sake of more action. Excellent work showing off the disparate personalities at play in the coming negotiations, especially with some who are to be arriving with agendas of their own. I'm also heavily intrigued by Icewind's doubts and explorations, as he's likely to be at the centre of whatever movement of Imperial sympathisers sprouts up here.

It's hard for me to say what's good, because this story has thus far been consistently good. Sure, there are some parts that I might not be as invested in, but I can tell that they exist to lay important groundwork without making everything feel sudden or cheap. I'm barely to the end of the first Act, but I'm already hooked on this damn story.

So be proud of yourselvs, damn it!

[Sledge115]

11350675

This is an interesting proposition. She could take the place of Ambassador Lyra and the propaganda machine could do its work. It would be like a reverse Redheart, except both Redhearts are still alive right now. Of course, this Lyra isn't the SAME Lyra, but that's small beans.

Is it?

Fluttershy is attracted to women. It's canon, because I said so.

Everyone is Bi.

Precisely. When you're dealing with a threat such as this, it's all hooves on deck. All options should be considered, even allying with former enemies and forgiving long-held grudges. That's not to say that morality should be thrown out the window, lest ye risk becoming the beast which you sought to destroy. Staring into the abyss, as they say.

Best keep them at an arm's reach, of course. We can't choose our friends in times of crises.

See; Churchill deciding to ally with Stalin.

Good soldiers follow orders... good soldiers follow orders... good soldiers follow orders

Good soldiers follow orders... good soldiers follow orders... good soldiers follow orders

This is a laudable sentiment, but I've got a bad feeling about how the human might react to some of Pinkie's more... explosive party elements. Especially if it's a surprise party.

Yeah... many a fanfic touches on this. Not all of them good.

Uh oh. He's "doing his own research".
Not the good kind, but the kind where you cherry pick things that conform to your existing biases without considering the academic merit of the source you're using.
Facebook research.

Oh, geez, I sure hope she doesn't offer essential oils either.

It's hard for me to say what's good, because this story has thus far been consistently good. Sure, there are some parts that I might not be as invested in, but I can tell that they exist to lay important groundwork without making everything feel sudden or cheap. I'm barely to the end of the first Act, but I'm already hooked on this damn story.

So be proud of yourselvs, damn it!

We shall.