Fourth Harmony: Induction

by CTVulpin

Chapter 5: Interference

Although he no longer lived in the castle, Spike still considered it one of his responsibilities to keep the place clean. While there were janitors on staff for the library wing and the resident Royal Guards and chefs looked after their own living quarters and the kitchen, there was still a lot of castle to that needed looking after and very little spare time in Spike’s schedule between running the library, advising Twilight during Court, and helping Sweetie Belle look after their own house. After several failed attempts to convince Twilight to hire a live-in staff of maids, Spike had decided the next best thing would be to round up some students from the School of Friendship who wanted to earn a little spending money in exchange for a few hours of cleaning work on the weekend.

In the early afternoon of the day before the day when Citrine and Bella’s contest was scheduled to end, Spike was engaging in the weekly cleaning chores with three assistants. Two of them were griffons, Gilderoy and Gustaf by name, and experienced enough that they focused more on checking the hallway ceiling for cobwebs than on Spike, who was giving instructions to the third and newest cleaner, Mandible the Changeling, who was currently in charge of the rolling mop bucket.

“This hall sees the most foot traffic,” the dragon was saying, “so we save mopping it for last, once we’ve got rid of all the rest of the dirt and dust.”

“Understood,” Mandible said.

The group came to the double doors of the Map room and Spike motioned for a stop. Once the griffons had landed, ready for their assignments, Spike said, “We’ll start here. I’ll dust the thrones while Gilderoy cleans the table and Gustaf the chandelier. Be careful with the memory crystals up there, Gustaf. They’re irreplaceable.”

“I know,” Gustaf said, rolling his eyes wearily. “You say that every week, Mr. Spike.”

“Hey,” Spike said, “I just know that the one time I forget to give that warning, some creature will break something, so put up with it. Mandible, you’re on mop duty.”

“Understood,” Mandible said, pushing the mop bucket up to the doors. She pushed them open with a pulse of magic, and found herself staring at gigantic, snarling bear with blueish fur peppered with starlight spots. Mandible shrieked and tripped backward into the mop bucket. Spike moved quickly, pulling the Changeling and bucket back and then taking a protective stance between the Ursa Minor and his assistants, wings spread wide and chest expanding as he readied a blast of fire.

“Whoa!” Bella exclaimed, appearing suddenly under the Ursa’s head and waving her front legs frantically. “Don’t flame it, Spike! I don’t know how it’ll react to fire!”

Spike hesitated, confused, and in that moment he realized the Ursa hadn’t moved so much as a muscle and that Bella’s horn was glowing brightly with the effort of maintaining a spell. He let most of his breath out slowly and with only a hint of smoke, and then slowly asked, “What are you doing, Bella?”

Bella let out a relieved sigh as she dropped to all fours and put out her horn. The Ursa vanished in a puff of sparkling mist, revealing that the Map room was in perfectly normal condition, aside from a web of gemstones and metal wire laid out on the Map table. “I was spell-crafting,” Bella said simply.

“Ah, your secret project. I should have guessed,” Spike said, shaking his head and smiling. “So that was just an illusion of an Ursa Minor, then?”

“Kinda-sorta,” Bella said, poking her head out into the hall and looking around. “Princess Twilight’s not around, is she?”

“No,” Spike said.

“Ok, good,” Bella said brightly. “I’d hate to have accidentally spoiled my project for her.” She gave the dragon a serious look. “Promise not to tell her anything, and I’ll happily explain.”

Spike glanced over his shoulder to see that the griffons had managed to extract Mandible from the mop bucket with minimal spillage, and all three were looking intrigued. “Sure thing, Bella,” he said. “My lips are sealed.”

“Awesome,” Bella said, waving the group in. “What I’m doing,” she explained once everyone was inside and the doors were closed, “is trying to create illusions that affect more than just the eyes and ears of observers. Regular illusions don’t have any substance if you try to touch them, but these ones… Here, let me demonstrate with something a bit smaller.” Her horn lit up and she narrowed her eyes in concentration until a toy-sized Ursa Minor materialized on the table in front of the group. “If you touch it,” Bella said, relaxing her face but keeping her horn lit, “it will feel solid. Go on,” she urged, “but be gentle please.”

Gilderoy tentatively reached out and poked the tiny Ursa with a talon, and his eyes widened. “It does feel like it’s really there,” he said.

Spike bent down to look at the illusion closer. “It looks so realistic, too,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a life-like Ursa Minor illusion, Bella. Not even from your grandmother.”

Bella blushed. “R-really?” she stammered, before forcing a cough to try and regain her composure. “I-it may look life-like, but the spell isn’t perfect yet. If you try to physically pick up or move the illusion, it gets… weird.”

“Weird how?” Gilderoy asked, giving the Ursa a firm nudge. The illusion’s body shot off toward the far wall at an insane speed, its legs and neck stretching as the feet remained in place and the head started flying straight up while spinning like a drill bit. “Wagh!” Gilderoy squawked, jumping back.

“Weird like that,” Bella deadpanned, cutting off her magic and letting the grotesque illusion dissipate. “Well, that exact reaction is a new one, but they’re generally like that. I need to figure out why that happens and how to prevent it, or make sure nopony tries to touch anything during my presentation to Princess Twilight.”

“What are the gems for?” Mandible asked.

“Those are just to help me maintain multiple illusion creatures at once or make extra-large ones. I was testing how big of a creature I could make using them when you came in. Which is also why I’m in here and not the room I usually work in and-” she gasped suddenly and quickly cast her magic over the web of gems, dismantling it and packing the parts into a box she levitated out from under the table as she babbled, “And it’s cleaning day and I’m in your way! Sorry. I’ll be gone in just a minute.”

Spike grit his teeth as he watched Bella taking her gem web apart. “You don’t have to...” he protested weakly.

“Oh, I can put it back together easily,” Bella said, closing the box and carrying it to the doors. “I’ve probably spent more time than I should have on testing the size limits, anyway. Have fun cleaning, everyone!”

A moment of silence hung over Spike and his assistants following Bella’s exit, and then Spike folded his arms and said, “Well, you heard her. Let’s get to work.”

---

Bella trotted through the castle halls in good spirits, humming tiny bits of happy melodies as she went. She had thoroughly enjoyed showing off her project, even if it was far from perfect, and Spike’s comments had made her even happier. A better Ursa illusion than Grandma Trixie, she thought. She’ll be so proud to hear that, after she’s done making a show of being upset. And maybe Penny- She stopped short as she came to the door of her room and was nearly run over by Citrine making a rapid exit.

“Watch it, Lulamoon!” Citrine snapped, trying to tuck the small box she was levitating out of sight.

“Sorry,” Bella said insincerely, quirking an eyebrow. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

“I’m a bit short on time to get the portal working,” Citrine said.

“But our deadline isn’t until tomorrow,” Bella said, head cocked to the side. “Did you lose track of the days, or have you bitten off more than-”

Citrine cut her off with an impatient noise. “It’s cleaning day,” she said, “which gives me a very small window of time to do some very complex magic before Spike and his crew get to my workroom and possibly ruin everything. Now out of my way; I’ve wasted enough time already.” She brushed past Bella and galloped away, leaving Bella frowning in concern.

She’s not enjoying this as much as I am, Bella thought as she entered the bedroom. She set her box of gems and wire on her bed, opened it up, and dug through the contents. Naturally, I buried my notes at the bottom of all this, she grumbled to herself before managing to extract the papers. Turning away from her bed, she started to consult her notes when something on Citrine’s bed caught her eye. It was a book, bound in a plain white cover with a title done in Princess Twilight’s horn-writing: Successful Experiments in New Magic.

“This must be what Citrine’s working from,” Bella mused, levitating the book up. “Did she forget to take it with her?” She started to carry it toward the door, but paused after a few steps as a strong wave of curiosity struck her. Bringing the book into a comfortable reading position, Bella went to lay down on her bed as she flipped through the pages. “This project does seem to be causing her a lot of stress,” Bella justified to herself, “so I really should make sure she hasn’t taken on something that will end up hurting her. She’d do the same for me. Probably.”

Bella flipped through the book quickly until she came to the chapter about the Taryn Portal, and her breath caught in her throat as she read the first lines: This project involved extreme risk and the application of ancient magics we still barely understand. Attempts to replicate it should not be undertaken by anypony without a thorough understanding of the underlying theory and a perfect familiarity with the intended destination. DO NOT ATTEMPT without assistance, ideally in the form at least one other alicorn and two unicorns equal in ability to Starlight Glimmer or Ashen Blaze.

With those discouraging words flitting through her head, Bella skimmed through the rest of the chapter. Most of the technical words passed right over her head, but her eyes seemed to pick out every single word of warning and reminder of danger buried in the text. The section detailing the method of breaching the universe boundary opened with a long paragraph that was nothing but examples of the potential disastrous consequences of getting the spell wrong.

Bella slammed the book shut, mouth gone dry with fear, and looked at the bedroom door, silently willing Citrine to return for the book and its essential warnings. The door remained closed. “This is bad,” Bella said, leaping for the door, the book held magically secure against her back, “this is very very bad. Citrine, you…” She burst through the door and galloped down the hall, heading for Princess Twilight’s study and determined to let nothing stand in her way.

---

Five minutes later, Bella was charging through the halls at breakneck speed again, this time with Twilight and Pesci following. The Princess would have taken the lead, except that she didn’t know exactly where they were going; only Bella and Citrine knew which room the other had selected for working on their respective projects, and that only so they wouldn’t try and set up in the same space. Twilight was carrying Successful Experiments in her magic, her expression so grave Bella was amazed the alicorn’s mane hadn’t started defying gravity from the suppressed rage. Whereas Celestia and Luna sported ethereal manes constantly as part of their public image, Twilight chose to only display the effect when she needed to make a point. In Bella’s opinion, this was an opportune moment for that.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to you sooner, Princess,” Bella said. “Believe me, I didn’t realize how dangerous trying to make a portal to another world was, or I’d have tried to stop Citrine from doing it.”

“And maybe I shouldn’t have been so free with my private books,” Twilight replied, her voice surprisingly free of anger despite the look on her face. “We can argue about who’s to blame for what later, Bella. Right now, let’s just focus on stopping Citrine before she cracks all of reality open, or worse.”

Bella was still trying to imagine a worse fate than destroying all of reality when she and Twilight reached Citrine’s workroom. Bella gripped the doorknob in her magic, only to be stopped by Twilight’s upraised hoof. “We have to be careful,” the Princess said. “If we interfere with her at the wrong moment, we might not be able to get the magic back under control.” Bella nodded and turned the knob slowly, then screamed when the door flew open with a sharp, sudden rush of air.

A large, jagged, infinitely black absence hung in the center of the room, its bottom edge a little over a hoof above the floor. Behind the hole was a tall free-standing mirror, its frame wrapped in gold wire and gems, rocking slightly as all the air swirled about, spiraling toward the hole from all angles. Citrine was dangerously close to the hole, her mane whipping about in the wind as she struggled not to be pulled in.

“Grab her!” Twilight ordered, seizing Pesci just as the floating computer got caught up by the swirling wind. Bella obediently reached out and grabbed Citrine around the withers with her magic, backing up to brace against the hallway wall as she pulled. Twilight threw Pesci down the hall, out of the vortex’s grip, and added her telekinesis to Bella’s until Citrine was almost to the door. The Princess’s mane lengthened and began to flutter as she boldly approached the jagged hole, igniting her horn and muttering under her breath. As Bella reached out a hoof to help Citrine through the doorway, Twilight released her magic in a magenta bolt that was simply swallowed up by the void. Grimacing, Twilight ignited her horn again and cast a different spell, weaving a dome of light to enclose the void and the mirror. The air stilled instantly once the dome was sealed, but Twilight kept concentrating and layering spells into it for a full minute longer.

Citrine sat down hard, gasping and staring blankly ahead at the hole in reality that she’d made. Bella sat down next to her and carefully reached out to touch her. “You ok?” Bella asked.

Citrine blinked slowly, sending a couple tears down her cheeks. “I...” she croaked. “Bella, I almost… Thank y-”

“Citrine!” Princess Twilight Sparkle whirled about to glare the unicorn, her mane and tail still flowing out behind her like dark blue smoke. “What in Equestria were you thinking?!”

“I...” Citrine muttered, quailing. “I just wanted to...”

“You could have been killed!” Twilight exclaimed. “Opening a hole to the void between universes without a clear goal. Unbelievable!”

Some of the shock wore off Citrine’s face. “I had a goal,” she said. “I was trying to connect to Taryn.”

A brief look of pity crossed Twilight’s features, but the anger returned quickly. “You’ve never been to Taryn,” she said, “have you? Ash did say he wanted to take you there to visit once or twice, but I don’t recall that he ever did.”

“No,” Citrine said, “but I was following your instructions, so-”

“These instructions?” Twilight asked, producing the Completed Experiments book. “The instructions that very clearly start with a warning not to try this alone? The instructions you left in your room while you were punching holes in the fabric of reality?!”

Pesci had returned by this point and had floated past Twilight to get a closer look at the hole and the barrier. It chose this moment to try and interject something. “Princess Twilight.”

“Not now, Pesci,” Twilight said shortly. “Well, Citrine?”

Citrine averted her eyes. “Ok,” she said, “maybe I didn’t take the warnings seriously enough, but at least you got here in time. Maybe,” she gave the Princess a weak, hopeful smile, “now that you and Bella are here to… to help...” She trailed off and dropped her gaze in shame as Twilight’s frown only grew sterner.

“Even if I were willing to help you finish this,” Twilight said, “it would be impossible. Nopony here knows Taryn well enough to find an anchor point for the portal there from here. The only reason we pulled it off the first-”

“Princess Twilight,” Pesci said, louder and more insistent than before, “you need to turn around.”

“What, Pesci?” Twilight snapped, turning to glare at the floating computer.

“Something is coming out of the hole,” Pesci replied.