Previous Chapters Next
Close
Chapter One: Everything's Gonna Be...7,226 words
Chapter Two: The New World6,832 words
Chapter Three: Creeping Flames, Creeping Fears8,772 words
Chapter Four: Smoldering Questions9,079 words
Chapter Five: Too Much is Never Enough8,205 words
Chapter Six: The First Day of the Rest of Your Life5,560 words
Chapter Seven: King of Diamonds7,455 words

Chapter Four: Smoldering Questions

Rarity took a deep breath, and steeled her to the inevitable onslaught to come. For Twilight’s sake.

This deer Princess – Hazel, was it? – while being a royal, didn’t seem to often carry herself with the decorum befitting her title, or at the very least had rarely done so in Rarity’s presence so far. And seeing as poor Twilight was so frazzled with everything going on, leaving Rarity to be the unicorn in Hazel’s focus, she would have to deal with the young monarch's questions and concerns.

Or, at least, that’s what Rarity had expected. So far the group - Rarity and her friends, surrounded by a group of huge-antlered deer guards - had done nothing but walk down the forest path in a stony silence. Twilight would hum to herself every once and a while, staring off into the distance as if lost in deep thought; Pinkie Pie bounced about the crowd and chirped at different deer or earth ponies, most of whom just shrank back from her with a glare, or perhaps a mumble of a response in return; other than that, only faint cricket-song or the croak of a toad interrupted the steady thud of hooves to packed dirt. Hazel hadn’t even looked Rarity’s way again, despite having been absolutely enamored with her unicorn horn a moment ago. She and the huge buck, Gladiolus, simply glanced back and forth between each other, flicked their ears and stubby tails.

To be honest, it was all starting to feel a bit uncomfortable, and Rarity’s hooves were pinching from walking so much farther than she was used to. She was about to break the silence to ask how far this deer camp was, when finally:

“So, Miss…” Hazel started with a tiny cough. She still wouldn’t look her in the eyes when speaking, but Rarity didn’t dare take offense to it; perhaps customs were different in their culture.

She coughed again, and Rarity realized what she was being asked.

“Oh,” she tittered, “It was Rarity, Princess.”

“Well, Miss Rarity, you said before that you had an accident with a teleportation spell? Would you mind elaborating, please?”

Ah. Well. Rarity stumbled a bit. That was a bucket of worms, now wasn’t it? Rarity herself barely understood what exactly had happened hours ago, and before that her memory of events was a muddy blur of rain and patterned skies. Just moments ago Rarity had been ready to answer whatever questions she was able, but for this it would really be best for Twilight to explain. She looked over to call her friend's attention, but–

Oh dear. She hadn't seen Twilight’s eye twitch like that in ages. Never mind that, then.

Hazel had finally turned her head to glance in Rarity’s direction. She hummed, and with a flick of her magic adjusted her frizzed, burnt mane.

“Yes, well, I’m afraid it’s quite a long story, your highness, and I wasn’t the caster of the spell in the first place.”

Hazel flicked her large ears, which sent her tiara stumbling about on her head. She shared another twitchy glance with Gladiolus then, as if sensing Rarity could sense her discomfort, she relaxed her muscles and dropped her stiff posture. She shrugged nonchalantly and stared ahead once more.

“Still. I think it would benefit both of our parties if I was given a bit more information and, no offense meant to our saviors of course, but your… ah, leader? She seems exhausted. Could you or somecreature else tell me a bit more about your journey?”

And there was the dignified manner Rarity had been missing before. Strange. Still, Rarity couldn’t fault her for asking. What little of the story Hazel heard already must have sounded disjointed and confusing at best. Not to mention they probably had quite a bit further to walk; no matter how far they trotted down this road, the forest, deep in twilight, offered no signs of real change.

“Of course, Princess, though you’ll have to excuse the gaps in my knowledge,” she said.

Hazel and Gladiolus both nodded their consent, and Rarity, with only a momentary stumble to try to gather her scattered thoughts, started her account of the day's events. She mostly left out what she remembered of Twilight’s botched spell, considering how little of the tale was comprehensible. Besides, she doubted the deer and earth folk would understand it much better than she did, and… and, well…

Rarity scratched at her coat as if she had a sunburn, or was swiping away rainwater. Her flank tingled and panged.

She cleared her throat and moved on. Thankfully, once she moved on to the explosion of light that had sent them all here, and their trek into the woods and the fire thereafter, her anxiety eased and she managed to finish telling the tale well enough.

“I understand some of it might seem a bit far-fetched,” Rarity laughed. “I’m afraid there are many details even we don’t understand yet.”

Gladiolus only snorted at that, something deep and rumbling. Given the way his antlers were rattling, Rarity’s retelling had even somehow made him angry – though ‘angry’ seemed to be his default state, to tell the truth. And when Rarity turned to Hazel–

Her glittering eyes were the size of fishbowls. Her jaw dropped all the way to her chest. Her petite hooves kept tripping up on the path as she blinked like mad. She rather seemed like a foal on Hearth’s Warming, enraptured in the wonder of the Fire of Friendship. She would have been bouncing up and down again, no doubt, if she didn’t have to lead the herd forward.

Then, with a hum and a clearing of her throat, it was gone. She turned away from Rarity and stared resolutely at the forest ahead.

“I see,” she said, cheerful but politely detached, “My, that must have been quite a shock to all of you, and yet you felt the need to stop and help our humble herd anyway.”

Hazel’s pelt twitched at that, and she swallowed hard. Rarity noticed Gladiolus glare at her for a moment, then he jerked away. Hazel continued:

“Surely you’ll all want to rest. Which is great, because here we are!”

Rarity’s heart leapt into her throat. It took all of her willpower to continue to walk at an expected pace and not start prancing like Pinkie Pie doing the polka because - goodness gracious, they were finally here! At a town! Which just might give her access to a shower! Celestia knew her mane was absolutely wretched and filled with ash, as were her tail and fetlocks, so she could only imagine the wreck that was her made-up face. Oh, and what of her lashes and brows? Were they sizzled right off?! Oh, she needed a mirror, stat! Would these deerfolk maybe even have a spa? They were the heroes of the day, after all, and surely a brave heroine such as herself deserved such treatment.

Or – she scoffed – she would even take a relatively clean puddle right now. What really mattered was that she could finally rest her agonized hooves. She put a little pep into her step as they neared the top of a gentle hill, as did the rest of her friends. Out of the corner of her eye, Rarity saw that even poor Twilight had gained a bit of energy and a tiny smile.

The path underhoof softened further as they climbed, worn down by generations of hooves. At the top of the hill, cutting through the murky shade of the forest, was a squat stone arch decorated with lights made of fireflies of different colors trapped in jars. It made the entrance look quite festive. As they neared the arch, its wan flickering lights, like those of a Hearth’s Warming tree, melted together with the pale blue glow of mushrooms gathering at the path’s edge, washing everything into the color of the ocean at dawn. Bleats of language too far away for Twilight’s spell to work on yet drifted on a chilly breeze, and the smell of cooking mushrooms and baked breads mixed with the stench of ash clinging to Rarity’s coat.

The herd reached the apex of the hill, directly under the curve of that arch, and the deer village unfolded before them. Darling little huts and square cabins sat in tight clusters, decorated with the same buglights and a few gems for accent near the holes cut in their surfaces used as windows. They appeared to be made of the same brick squishing lightly underhoof, with thick ferns and pine needle canopies stung up above the roofs to protect from rain and maintain structural integrity. Around them were dark wooden fences, holing in cute little gardens stuffed to each corner with berry plants, and some other shriveled plants that Rarity couldn’t name. It was all quite quaint and homey, something you’d see in one of Sweetie Belle’s old fairytale storybooks, and Rarity couldn’t help but be charmed. Especially when she saw the statues; towering above the homes were giant statues, cut from mixed media of brick, stone and wood, all depicting different deer with their regal antlers shimmering in the twinkling twilight. When she looked harder, Rarity also noticed some smaller statues of earth ponies mixed in as well, their surfaces not as dulled by time and wind.

“Why, Princess Hazel, it’s absolutely lovely!”

“Yes, Princess,” Twilight said, some of the first words she’d uttered in hours. She stepped up to the monarch and her guard with a polite curtsy. “Thank you for inviting us to your wonderful home.”

Hazel giggled into one of her hooves – then winced at the shriveling glare Gladiolus threw towards her. She gave a cough, then bowed in return.

“Of course. It’s the least we could do since you helped us! Now please, we shouldn’t stand out here all day. I’ll get you to a resthouse for the night, and then I can see about getting your friend a seat with the elders.”

“We’re mighty grateful to you, Miss Hazel,” Applejack said with a tip of her hat, before following along. “And you and the rest of your herd, Mister… er, Gladiolus?”

Gladiolus only snorted at her, “Do not thank me. If you wish to receive even an inkling of my gratitude, you could consider stopping that pink fiend from harassing my people.”

Rarity winced, and slowly turned to see– yes, he was talking about Pinkie Pie. She bounded ahead, out of the reach of a few panicking bleating guards who scrabbled after her. She giggled, bouncing across the brick road from one home to another, in between cowering crowds of fawns and foals who stared at her as if she planned to fry their brains up and devour them in some horrible pony ritual. Given that she was an earthpony, of a race these folk should be quite familiar with considering there were some among their population, it was a bit odd they would be so frightened; then again Rarity considered that she had come bouncing in with a whole group of magical ponies with Cutie Marks, something that, upon inspection, none of these ponies seemed to have. Not to mention that Pinkie Pie, while a dear, could be… well, a little bit too much. Especially when it came to first impressions.

“Pinkie Pie, please,” Rarity tutted, using her new magic to pull Pinkie back to the group. She was so unused to easily picking up large objects in her telekinesis, but Pinkie, despite her wriggling, felt lighter than air.

“Awww, but Twilight gets to do her mission. What about mine?” Pinkie Pie whined as she deflated in Rarity’s grip.

Gladiolus went rigid as stone. “And what is that supposed to mean, pony?!”

Rainbow Dash flapped up next to his ear and snorted at him. “Will you guys calm down? We saved you, for Stars’ sake! She just means that Twilight gets to go talk about nerdy magical stuff with your elders, but she doesn’t get to… well, do whatever Pinkie Pie does.”

Pinkie nodded emphatically, the motion of it rattling up Rarity’s horn. “Yuppers, exactly! Earlier you said something about us being on some sort of mission, and it made me realize that now I am on a super important mission: to make some other of you deer and ponies beside Princess Hazel smile! We’re not so bad once you get to know us, I promise!”

Hazel blinked blankly at that, as did Gladiolus. Rarity couldn’t help but giggle lightly at their expense, though she did feel quite bad about the way Twilight was grinding her teeth and clapping a hoof to her temple.

Behind her, Fluttershy gently stepped forward. Though the poor dear was exhausted, her eyes were stern, trained on Pinkie Pie with a practiced look. “Pinkie Pie, um, I know you’re trying to be nice, but, well… I think you’re frightening them.”

Pinkie’s eyes widened, and her jaw dropped. “Oh no, was I doing that again? I’m sorry.”

As Rarity released her from her telekinetic grip, Princess Hazel trotted ahead and placed a gentle hoof to Pinkie’s shoulder.

“Oh hey, it’s fine! I’m sure my herd just needs some time to get used to you. Please, let me show you how hospitable we can be towards our heroines.”

Then, without another word, only the flick of her tail, the crowd around them dispersed. The guards, besides Gladiolus, melted away into the crowd as they moved, muttering and whispering amongst each other, back to their homes and to what appeared to be some sort of town square at the center of the village. The watching foals and fawns darted away asif having been found with their hooves in a cookie jar, running off to watch the new arrivals from behind corners and underneath covering brush. A few deer and ponies spoke in hushed whispers with Hazel for a moment before trotting off with purpose, their heads and tails perked with hurry and their eyes trained ahead.

“They’re just getting your rooms and meals prepared. This way,” Hazel chirped, waving her hoof to Twilight. “Oh, I’m so excited to see what you’ll think of your lodgings!”

Then she trotted off, Pinkie Pie once again bouncing close behind. Rarity, with a glance to her friends, began to follow steadily. Nopony missed the way Gladiolus brought up the rear with a grunt, his steely eyes trained tightly on them.

They had only made it a few hoof-falls into the village, nearing a petite wooden bridge overhanging the trickle of a stream, when a sharp gasp tore through the quiet mumbling all around.

“By the Maker! How?!”

Rarity snapped around – had that horrid bat returned?!

A deer was standing staring wide-eyed at the edge of a fenced-in area billowing with plants. At his thin hooves the berry bushes and tiny mushrooms were shriveled and grayed, wrinkled and patchy from where some sort of animal had tramped through the grasses. But at the other end, nearest to where Applejack was standing, those same plants were lush with greenery. The mushrooms swelled at their tops, glittering with fresh dew which refracted a beautiful aqua glow. The berries were ripe and round and shining in the bounce light, nearly cracking at the edges with the weight of their own delicious juices. In short, they looked absolutely delectable.

The deer, his jaw nearly to the ground, turned achingly slowly to stare at the newcomers.

Applejack fidgeted, her hoof scraping the stone. She tipped her hat in his direction with a grimace.

“Aw shoot, we, uh, might have forgotten to mention that bit,” she muttered, flicking her eyes to Rarity and Twilight.

It was Twilight who stepped forward and spoke this time, to Rarity’s relief.

“The spell that brought us here was incredibly powerful. For whatever reason, it seems to have infused us with a huge amount of magic. I’m sorry for intruding on your crops, but they really can’t help it.”

Gladiolus snapped his mouth open, a growl in his throat– but the deer opposite just let out a croaking laugh.

“S-Sorry?! Are you kidding? The mushrooms have been underperforming for ages, a-and the berries… I’ve never seen them look this good before,” he stammered.

Pinkie Pie squinted at that, “Huh? But don’t the earth ponies use their magic to make them grow better? That’s how it was in Equestria.”

Before the buck could comment, Hazel stepped forward with a shake of her head. Her tiara rattled. “Like I said, we haven’t had any magic users here in ages, even the ponies. Maybe this ‘Equestria’ of yours is more magical than our land.”

Twilight, her eyes widening, hummed and turned a small circle. Her eyes darted around the village, snapping between the antlers of the deer and the flanks - still blank - of even the adult earth ponies milling about and gawking at their new harvest.

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” she muttered. “An earth pony’s connection to the magic of the land is mostly automatic. And even if the surrounding saturation of magic was low, the innate magic within a pony would still manifest a Cutie Mark. At least one of you should have one in something.”

Gladiolus was growling in his throat at this point. Hazel only put up a hoof and shook her head again, her eyes burning a hole into Rarity’s horn, into Twilight’s new tiny wings.

“This is something you’d need to speak to the elders about. They would know more than any other creature.”

Twilight still looked troubled, her brow furrowed and her mane frizzing more by the second, but she nodded resolutely. Before even being asked she continued down the road they’d been following, and with a start Hazel rushed to overtake her and guide them all forward.

As they began their trek once more, Rarity couldn’t help but worry for her friend. The poor dear had been met with one confusing hurdle after another all day; as had they all, Rarity conceded, but Twilight seemed to be taking the stress all upon herself. The new literal weight on the now-alicorn’s shoulders surely didn’t help, and then there was the fact that Twilight had yet to tell them what exactly she’d witnessed that required them all to go on this confusing quest. Earlier when they’d heard the screaming of the herd, why, Rarity hadn’t seen that look on Twilight’s face in ages. And the level of intricacy in design that went in the shield she summoned so instantly, without even thinking… Twilight was beyond scared. Given how she reacted at the sight of Spike, that fear wasn’t just for herself and her new position, but for them all. Rarity needed to support her.

As she finished that thought, Hazel brought their group to a halt. Ahead of them, the house she assumed would be their lodgings for the night towered above them. While not as well-kempt or obviously decorated as the other homes, it seemed structurally sound and was certainly large enough to hold the entire party. Rarity couldn’t help but be a bit disappointed that there were no flairs such as multi-colored lights or beautiful gemstones, but at the very least the cottage would protect them from the chill and give them somewhere protected to sleep.

“Well, here you are,” Hazel chirped. “You all can stay and get comfortable while my herd prepares a meal for you all – now that we have such wonderful crops to make it with,” she added with a wink.

She turned to Twilight. “And as for you, if you could follow me, I can see about getting an audience with the elders.”

A sharp flap pierced the air. Behind Rarity, Rainbow Dash let out an indignant grunt, “Hold on! She’s going all by herself?”

Pinkie Pie bounced up next to her, continuously jumping up and down in the air to match Rainbow Dash’s height. “Yeah! And I haven’t gotten to talk to anydeer yet! How else am I supposed to figure out what you guys’ favorite holiday is?”

Rarity hissed at them all, flicking a desperate glance towards Twilight. “Please, girls, we shouldn’t make a fuss. This could be Twilight’s chance to learn something important.”

“Still,” Rainbow Dash grumbled. “We don’t know these guys, and they keep staring at me like I’m some villain out of ‘Daring Do’. We can’t just have Twilight go off on her own.”

“Oh, um,” someone coughed. Rarity glanced to see Spike, rocking back on his heels and tail, and puffing out his scaled chest in an effort to look as large and brave as possible. She had to fight off a coo at the sight of it, for his sake, especially as he then gently hopped onto Twilight’s back like a daring knight set on rescuing her on her own horseback. “I could go with her. I mean, if the elders don’t like it, don’t worry; I’m so small and quiet, they won’t even hear a peep out of me.”

Twilight winced as Spike’s weight crashed onto her spine, then steadied herself with narrowed eyes. “Spike, girls, I really do appreciate it, but–”

“That would be no problem,” Hazel said, primly dipping down with a thin smile. “And of course the rest of you are no prisoners here. You’re free to wander; I only ask that you don’t enter the large white building at Town Square, or wander outside the village too far alone.”

Pinkie Pie squeaked in joy, then immediately shimmied away towards a group of foals and fawns hiding behind a tree a few hoof-falls away, the foliage behind her blossoming into luscious flowers as she went. Fluttershy calmly followed after her after a curtsy to the guards, and of course Rainbow Dash streaked behind to watch after her friends, shooting back scathing looks between Gladiolus and Twilight the whole way.

Speaking of Gladiolus, his jaw was set and his back muscles rippled with rage. His antlers glimmered in the luster of the new mushrooms, and his hoof pawed the dirt. Applejack, walking past, only tipped her hat to him.

“I can understand you wanting to protect your kin, Mister Gladiolus,” she said, offering him a small smile he didn’t return, “But if you’d just spend a little while with Pinkie and my friends here, I promise you that you’ll see there ain’t nothing to be fretting about. Honest.”

Then she trotted off, a stiff and growling Gladiolus hot on her hooves.

Rarity turned to Twilight and her dear Spikey-Wikey as the two of them prepped to follow along with the Princess. Twilight’s eyes were narrowed with focus and baggy from stress, while Spike just sat staring in awe at the architecture – and the multiple gems – surrounding him.

Gently, Rarity trotted forward and took Twilight’s cheek in her hoof. Twilight blinked as if startled, then drooped down into her touch as they locked eyes. Out of all of them, Rarity couldn’t help but notice that Twilight looked the most exhausted from their journey.

“Good luck, darling,” Rarity chirped. “I hope you find out something about this whole mess. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I simply must ask somecreature about the architectural designs here! Don’t forget that we’re all here for you if you need us.”

Spike gazed around from his spot on Twilight’s back, careful not to ruffle her new wings. Speaking of which– with a grumble he scratched at an itch on his own wings. It was still just so creepy having those things flopping around back there without him meaning to! He figured he’d get used to them eventually, but right now he was in the same boat as Twilight on that front; he wanted to figure out why in Equestria these things popped up in the first place, and finding out where they all were wouldn’t hurt either.

Still, he wasn’t sure exactly how he could help, so he figured his job right now was to try to protect Twilight, or at least stop her from driving herself crazy. And he was serious about wanting to help them however he could. Not only would keeping Twilight calm keep him from getting shaken around like a ragdoll again anytime soon, but he nearly burnt his friends along with a whole forest! He wasn’t sure how his Dragon Code really applied here, but he had to do something to make it right.

So he kept to his word from earlier and stayed quiet as Twilight carried him into a towering building along with Hazel. This must have been the one she told the others not to go into earlier. It was a tall building of wood and brick, stained white. Unlike the honestly pretty ugly decorations on the other buildings, this one was almost completely plain except for a few tiny windows to let in air and sunlight, and, more importantly, racks of antlers being displayed right above the two giant front doors. There were all kinds of different size and shape and color, all lightly rattling in the breeze and shining in the wan sunlight peeking through the canopy of trees. Some of them had cracks running down their lengths, while others were lush and huge, and some even had half of them cracked off down to the base. Spike thought it seemed pretty creepy to him, but he did know that deer shed and regrew their antlers at least once a year, so maybe it wasn’t too bad.

… Or, at least he thought so, until they walked inside to an entire room full of them. Cluttering every wall, overhanging every open doorway, shining in the dull light. He was surprised they hadn’t glued some to the ceiling.

“Gross,” he whispered.

“Spike! Manners,” Twilight hissed back.

“What? It’s true,” he bit back, and Twilight made a motion of zipping her lips toward him. With a grumble he complied, and watched as Hazel trotted to a long hallway at the end of the room.

She nodded her head to them before zipping inside, and after a moment of quiet mumblings inside followed by a loud bleat of multiple deer, her hooves came clopping back inside. With a shimmy and a flick of her tail, she beamed at Twilight, before squinting at Spike as her smile soured to a grimace.

“Okay, good news!” she murmured, even her whisper bouncing from the shivering antlers all around. “Miss Twilight, I’ve been able to secure you a short audience with the elders. As for your little dragon friend, however, erm… well, he’s welcome inside, but he’ll have to stay next to me, and he isn’t permitted to speak to any of them. Sorry.”

Spike started to grumble that he’d already promised he wasn’t going to speak out of turn anyway, but Twilight, a too-wide smile crinkling her face, rattled him harshly against her back. He grunted, and she glared at him with a polite grin.

“No need for apologies, Princess,” Twilight said with a bow. Spike had to pinch his claws to her coat to not go toppling to the floor. “We understand that your elders must be very busy overseeing the herd with you. I promise, there will be no trouble.”

Hazel tittered in return. Her smile, which before was wide and hopeful, squirmed around on her thin face as she darted her eyes about. When she finally met Twilight and Spike’s eyes again, she pawed at the brick below with a bouncing hoof, and her ears flicked around like she was shaking off flies. She laughed again, breathy and strained.

“No, no, of course. Just, um…” she lowered her voice to a barely audible hiss, “try to hurry. And don’t expect too much.”

Before either of them could ask what the hay that meant, Spike yelped as Hazel practically tore him off of Twilight. With a heavy thud he crashed onto Hazel’s back instead, her thin legs wobbling at the weight. He could walk himself but– Hazel sprinted ahead, smashing her tiara into Twilight’s side as she pushed her forward. They scrambled down the wide hall, Spike barely staying balanced with the way Hazel was wiggling, and then she shoved Twi into another open doorway.

The room they were thrown into next was more of a cavern than anything. Spike knew this place was big when he saw it from the outside, but it seemed that most of the huge building was made up of this long hall. A plain, undecorated hall (not even more of those freaky racks of antlers) stretched on in front of them, almost completely empty except for small wooden stools and chairs scooted to the far edges of the room. The vaulted ceiling soared up above them, so high and empty and white that glancing at it made Spike’s stomach churn. Behind them a few huge windows pooled in a twilight glimmer, the pale light stretching and then dying before it could reach the back. Almost half the room was obscured in a grim, foggy shadow.

And at the very back, barely visible in the dark, sitting primly on their haunches or laying breathing heavily on their sides was… well, a bunch of old deer. A mixture of does and bucks, the latter with giant, layered antlers streaking from their heads and rattling in the still air like the aged branches of a dying tree. Glittering, delicious-looking gems hung from thin string from the branches, and the does sported flower crowns which wove around their ears and down their wrinkled necks down to their shaking withers; all kinds of colors smeared together, some of the flowers already old and grayed and crispy on their dulled brown coats, overlaid with fresh bouquets which caught what little light filled the room. They all perched on intricately woven cushions and pillows that Rarity would probably swoon over, looking between one another and whispering harshly in the gloom. Their eyes gleamed bright, refracted and glowed at them from across the hall.

Twilight gulped. Spike shot her a thumbs-up and a small smile as she glanced back at him. Hazel nodded emphatically at her, smiling like crazy even though her nervous tail whipped at his wings.

Then Twilight trotted off to talk to the creepy deer, and Spike was left behind. He sighed. Again. At least this time he wasn’t totally alone in the middle of some dark forest, right? Hazel might be a little energetic sometimes, but that wasn’t too bad. After all, he was friends with Pinkie Pie of all ponies. Plus, he’d never met a deer before, so maybe this was a cool opportunity.

“So uh, you’re the Princess of this herd, right?” he tried.

Hazel jolted, her ears fluttering at the noise and his dragonbreath as if she’d forgotten he was there. Which, Spike didn’t get how she could, considering he was riding on her back and all, and she was still shivering from the weight, but eh, Twilight’d done the same before.

“Oh,” she started, then she brought up a hoof to hum to herself. “Well, I think the translation spell your friend cast might be acting kind of funny here, because that isn’t really the word we use. Though it’s probably the closest translation. I’m more of a… caretaker? Could you understand that?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Spike hummed back. “So, a caretaker, huh? So you look after everydeer? And, er, everypony?”

“Yeah, you could say that. Gladdy might fight off the monsters in the forest, but it’s my job to make sure everydeer is healthy and happy, and have their concerns listened to.”

Spike blinked, thinking. That sort of sounded like a Princess’s duties. At least, that’s always the feeling he got from Celestia, and Luna for as little time as he’s known her; loving, warm, wanting the best for their subjects and holding courts to ensure fair laws were placed into effect. The only difference here seemed to be that Hazel had the word of the elders to take into consideration, but…

Spike flinched at a stern bleat that pierced the dead air from the other side of the room. Twilight looked annoyed, like she did when a snobby unicorn stepped on her hoof without apologizing back in Canterlot, meanwhile a scrawny old buck looked like that same unicorn, mad about a young Twilight mindlessly walking into him with her muzzle stuffed into the pages of a book.

… Honestly, given the whole vibe he was getting from these elder deer, having them around might just make some things harder, not easier. Spike already had his claws full dealing with Twilight and her endless lists and letters; he couldn’t imagine a whole village to watch over.

“Wow, that sounds tough. How do you manage it all?”

At that, Hazel… changed. Wilted. She curled in on herself, nearly sending Spike collapsing to the floorboards, and she huffed in a deep, breathy sigh. Her giant ears smacked flat to the sides of her head, and Spike could swear he saw some of the flowers woven delicately through her tiara start to shrivel and curl.

“Well, I have to,” she said, after another sigh. “Everydeer is counting on me, and I don’t want to let them down.”

Spike, without thinking, started to comfortingly pat her on the withers like he would Twilight. As he did so, his claws gently wove through her short brown coat, brushed the peachy light spots still dusting her flank and back.

Hazel caught his eyes as he flinched back, tearing away his claws as if burned.

“No, it’s okay, thank you for trying to make me feel better,” she said with a tiny grin, “I know I’m young. The herd knows it too. I guess I just try to do my best, so they don’t think they put faith in the wrong doe. What about you?”

Spike started, his jump crushing a grunt out of Hazel. “Huh? Me?”

Hazel nodded with a wince. “Yes. The story your friend told me of Equestria was amazing. What do you do back at your Equestrian home?”

“Ah, well…” Spike rubbed at the back of his head, thinking about what to tell her first. His first thought was of course his title of Number One Assistant to Twilight, but now he’d kind of saved the Crystal Empire, which was a little bit more exciting of a story to tell in a short amount of time. He opened his mouth to start telling her about the library back home when–

Hazel’s ear flicked. And yeah, it’d done that a lot, but this was different. Before it was a nervous twitch, a tic like Twilight’s eye jittering after too much stress and coffee. This wasn’t an involuntary muscle spasm, or tell of her worry, this flick was wide and arching and controlled. Purposeful.

Ahead of Spike, the eternal twilight pooled out into a sweet pinkened honeyglow over the floorboards. As he watched from atop Hazel’s withers, something shifted. Like an optical illusion suddenly transforming into something else before your eyes, or a dot painting coming into quick focus, Spike noticed a bulky shadow he hadn’t seen before. The inky outline of a cluster of broad oak trees twisted, actually rotated and flashed across the light overhanging them. At first he assumed the branches were whipping in the wind, but– no. The movement was too extreme for that.

Spike spun around just fast enough to see a group of those giant guard bucks disappear into the gloomy darkness of the village beyond.

“Spike? Spike? Or– er, sorry, that is your name, isn’t it?”

Spike shook it off. Surely it made sense to keep tabs on some weird newcomers, right?

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Anyway, like I was saying…”

Twilight Sparkle was having a very bad day. Or– no, you know what? ‘Bad’ didn’t begin to cover it. She would stop to flip through her mental thesaurus and find a more fitting alternative, but frankly she was too tired for that right now, and she still had more work to do!

Twilight snorted hotly to herself, and tried her very best to smile at Hazel as they, along with Spike, trotted side by side back towards the home that would be their shelter for the night. She was pretty sure she failed, considering the look Hazel shot her back in return, but she did the best she could considering the circumstances. Honestly, everydeer was lucky she wasn’t just grabbing random creatures by the scruff and shaking them until they barfed out some Stars-darned answers. Really, how hard was it to get an answer to the simplest of questions around here?!

She did at least learn the name of the village they were in: Hartton. Unfortunately, that would be one of the only things Twilight learned from the elders; it was hard enough to get them to even talk to her at all, and when they did finally speak… well, they were just plain rude! Not to mention unhelpful. Not only had the folk of Hartton never even heard of Equestria or the magical dais she and her friends were looking for, but they either didn’t know about or didn’t want to talk about any details regarding the surrounding world.

Just as she feared, Twilight was back to step one, except now she had even less time to study in the Cosmic Library and search for these answers on her own.

Speaking of which, that was next on her list: catching up on research. As soon as she got back to that cabin, she was going to–

“Woah nelly,” Applejack gasped as she opened the door. With a tip of her hat to Princess Hazel, she ushered them all in. “Why don’t y’all sit down for a spell, Sugar? You look like you’re plum about to burst.”

To its credit, the interior of the cabin was quite homey. She thought, with the square exterior, that being inside would feel, well, like being in a stone prison. Thankfully, the warm rugs splayed along the pale wooden floorboards, along with the fire crackling away in the hearth of a cozy reading nook to chase away the eternal midday chill, made the space seem softer and larger than it really was. The buglights twinkling across the walls, refracting in rainbow light off the faces of delicate gems and the split branches of old antler racks, made everything a bit livelier. But–

Twilight shook her head. To her own distracting thoughts, and to Applejack.

“I’ll be fine, thank you. I just need to figure this out.”

“You mean the elders weren’t of much assistance?” Rarity hummed. “That’s a shame. Still, Twilight, surely you should rest.”

Twilight hummed her dissent, and marched off primly as Princess Hazel saw herself off for the night along with a cluster of guards and a promise of a later dinner.

Twilight looked around and found the nearest cushion within her reach. She levitated it upwards and swept it under her with a irritated flick of her horn (which, considering her new power surge, nearly sent the pillow rocketing out of a window at full blast). Tucking it below her rump, she collapsed to the velvety stitches and had to physically fight herself from curling up into the luscious softness and warmth like a kitten; instead, just as Zecora had once shown her, she sat upright on her haunches, crossed her hind hooves, and clasped her front hooves together in such a way that her whole body was one circle, one conduit for the flow of magic and emotion to pour through efficiently.

“There,” she grumbled. “Resting. Now, I really should be going back to the Library.”

Pinkie Pie bounced up with a frown on her face and a crooked tilt to her head. “Huh? Right now? But didn’t you hear that we’re getting food? What if they bring out a super yummy dessert and you’re not here to try it?”

Rainbow Dash zoomed up beside her, cradling her gut with a grumbling frown on her face. “Yeah, Twi. I don’t know about you, but that whole ‘exploding with magic’ thing has me wiped out and starving, and I’m pretty sure you did that twice today.”

Twilight sighed. An ache was rising in her right temple. “I appreciate the concern girls, but I have to do this. Who knows what’s happening to Equestria while we sit here not even knowing where to go or what to do?”

“Gosh, we know that Sugar,” Applejack said. She trotted up and, after a moment of wavering her hoof around as if looking for a place to put it, placed it warmly against Twilight’s withers. Twilight breathed deep, and Applejack’s solid hoof pressed firmly into her coat. “But what will happen to Equestria if you’re too tired out to help anypony?”

And… well, she had a point. Applejack smiled at her, soft and warm, but Twilight couldn’t fully meet her gaze. It was true that her alicorn magic was keeping her going longer than normal - even now, through the frustration, she could feel it boiling inside of her, roiling beneath her skin like a parasitic eel spasming below her flesh; something foreign and new and electric – but she was tired and hungry. More than that, she needed a moment, any moment, to sit and relax so she could possibly gather her thoughts after this disaster of a day. But right now, they didn’t know enough. They just didn’t, and Twilight was – she gulped, the rippling muscles on her back twitching, and her little wings flapping pathetically at her sides in response – the only one who could possibly guide them on this journey.

“Sugarcube? You alright?”

Twilight looked up towards her five best friends and her little brother, her number one assistant. They needed her to do this.

“I have to do this, girls. I’ll come back in a little while, like before, and then I’ll eat and rest. Okay?”

She didn’t wait for an answer.

Twilight couldn’t help but feel a little guilty as she popped into the Cosmic Library in silence, her breath echoing into that vastness and her mane whipping away. Still, she’d just have to apologize later. Right now, she was going to study.

Just as before, Twilight constructed a ticking ball of light to keep time for her. As its flaring light pulsed against her coat, she turned sickeningly on that invisible floor. With a thought, the screens floated in from the edges of the cosmos, and washed the ground below in ghostly light. Twilight flared her horn a bit brighter, and tried her best to push all of her jumbled thoughts and emotions, all of the confusion and frustration, across the mental connection which wove through her horn and all around the stars surrounding her.

Her first thought was of Celestia. She pushed away the thought of the dark vision she’d witnessed earlier before it had the chance to float forward again, and instead she focused on that young image she’d seen of her. So small and scared and pink. Had she had more instruction when it came time to cast the spell that sent her here? No, more importantly, did she know at the time where she was meant to go?!

As those thoughts bounced about the space in an echo of mana, another screen levitated closer from the cluster. Twilight whinnied at her success, and sat down to watch with a pulse of her horn to restart the memory.

Celestia was so young, and she was crying. The sight of it rattled something deep within Twilight’s bones, but she steeled herself and endured.

Nearby, Luna collapsed into the side of a larger mare, her radiant white mane billowing down a gray-black coat spotted with pinks and yellows, like the breaking of dawn. The mare hugged Luna close as the filly sobbed; she screamed her tears into the mare’s coat, heaving and shaking as if she were dying in front of them. The mare, much like Celestia, shook with the effort of keeping her composure. Only the mares’ chins wobbling, the shaking of their withers, the silent drips of tears wetting slick the fur beneath their eyes, betrayed their emotion.

All around, similar scenes played out between different ponies. An earth pony with a brown curly mane that swooped around his head, and a mark of a spoon on his flank, clutched a stallion, mare and little filly so hard as he cried that Twilight thought he might shatter their bones. The whole room, which appeared to be the grand hall of a palace sparkling in the setting sun, was filled with the fog of grief, a heavy weight which tugged at Twilight’s stomach and heart from so very far away.

Eventually, through the crying and coughing, as Luna’s screams turned to gags from her distress, there was the clearing of a throat. Celestia and everypony else whipped around, craned their necks to look up. Atop a set of marbled steps, swirled with the colors of the rainbow, stood — an alicorn?!

An alicorn stood towering over the procession below, her giant charcoal-black wings billowed out as if cradling the entire hall in her cool embrace. Her mane buffeted in a nonexistent wind, and its golden hue sparked with the flickers of galaxies, dripped honeygold ambrosia into a pool wrapped around her gilded horseshoes. The mark on her flank flashed in the refracted light as she moved, showing a large golden disc dipping into the horizon, only to pop out of the other side flaring with streams of light. The shimmering yellow color popped from the circle like the lines of a cartoon sun, then streamed all the way down both hind legs. Her horn, long and elegant, poked from beneath the alicorn’s regal headwear and ended in a glittering starburst.

Twilight’s mind boggled. Her jaw dropped.That didn’t make any sense. Not only had she now learned that Celestia and Luna weren’t born into their alicornhood, but had ascended; now she was face to face with an alicorn which Equestria as well as the entirety of the modern world had no written recollection of. Was she Celestia and Luna’s ruler? Their mentor?

Given the way everypony in the room bowed to her, and Celestia’s eyes twinkled at her sight, that was most likely the case. And. Twilight coughed in astonishment, clapping a hoof to her temple. A-And if that were true, that meant Twilight was one of the only ponies to know of this alicorn’s existence! What an honor, to hold such limited knowledge in her hooves.

Still, Twilight shook as if getting out of an ice bath, and steeled herself. Focus time.

“I know it is difficult,” the alicorn was saying. “But it's time. We must complete Queen Mobius’s spell.”

Luna croaked out a last broken sob as the mare cradling her pushed her gently away from her grasp. Then, without another word, the other groups began to break up as well, as the grief swelling the room crescendoed into a broken silence. One by one the ponies – seven of them counting Celestia and Luna, the same group from the last memory – lined up and gathered to the alicorn with their heads hanging, as if being sentenced to the gallows for some unknown crime.

Then, after a pause, it began:

“From all of us together, Together we’re friends…”

From there, the screen mostly dissolved into a mass of blurred light; even the magic of this place found it difficult to replicate the visuals of such a complex spell being cast by powerful users, and so Twilight squinted as a piercing white light washed pure and cold over the cosmos around her. Alongside the light there’s the cantation spoken aloud, ringing with power as pure mana pours from the alicorn’s throat, as unseen leylines thrum with energy and a music of their own. Then they, too, were eclipsed by the raw power oozing from the alicorn and two fillies, and crescendoed into a ringing silence that echoed endlessly into nothing.

Eventually the spell faded, and Twilight was met with a familiar scene: the stark crack of the magic of teleportation, and Celestia, Luna and their friends stood in that plastered world. This time, though, the screen seemed to zoom, to choose to focus on somepony other than Celestia. It held tight on the stricken face of a skinny gray-blue unicorn, his long curly beard swirling in the billowing aftershocks of the spell. As the seven ponies stared out at the landscape before them, cast ironclad into that pure cold white, he whispered:

“The Frozen South…”

Everything dulled to a muddy black, a fizzle of dark against the light all around, as the memory died away. Before Twilight could call forth another recording or replay the last memory before her, however, another light screen pushed forward. Then another, and another, all whipping past in a sickening blur of motion and color and noise; Celestia and Luna raising the sun and moon; the group hugging each other tight as they cried; the seven young ponies standing upon a verdant field of poppies and luscious grass; one of the group, an earth pony with sweet biscuits on his flank, scuffing at the dirt and erecting a large wooden structure; a crowd of blank-flanked ponies bowing in starry-eyed reverence to the two newly appointed alicorns standing grimacing before them; a town, bustling with activity at the edge of a mountain peak. More and more images flashed by, so fast that the strobing lights burned Twilight’s retinas and churned her stomach, and she had to flinch away before she vomited up what little was in her stomach.

When she looked up again, when the watery blue light dancing behind her eyelids calmed and then solidified, it had stopped again. One final screen, one in a now-long line that stretched away like an endless strip of film tapering off into the ether, hung in a pale beam of light. Celestia and Luna, now looking as they did back in Equestria, sitting side-by-side, their wings wrapped round one another in a clustered field of white stones.

Then it stopped, and Twilight’s timed light spell flickered and faded to nothing.

Twilight hummed to herself. On one hoof, Twilight could almost jump up in joy and scream to the heavens surrounding her; the Frozen South! Finally, oh Stars, finally she had some sense of direction, of where she was meant to guide her friends and fulfill her destiny! But on the other hoof, now she had even more questions than answers! Who was this ‘Queen Mobius Strip’ the strange alicorn had mentioned? According to Celestia’s letter, the spell she cast to send her and her friends to this world was created by Starswirl the Bearded, not anypony else. Though, given the nature of the spell and how little Celestia was able to fully explain before the casting, maybe it made sense that she fudged the truth a little to get her to practice it on her own. But what about what happened afterwards? Why raise the sun and moon after absorbing a previous incarnation of them, and why transform into an alicorn in the first place? Why were Celestia, Luna and her friends all so distraught? And, most importantly, why…

Something trembled deep inside her chest. Her nostrils flared, and her legs wobbled though she couldn’t fully understand why. A chill, so very cold, splashed down her spine and swam in her stomach.

Why did they never go back home?

Previously, Luna had been devastated to leave the mare who Twilight assumed was their mother or other close relative. All of the other ponies, similarly, were stricken when it was finally time to cast the spell and travel to the south. So why, after their duty was fulfilled, didn’t they return to their families? None of those flashes of memory ever showed a single solitary image of that dark speckled mare ever again, or the castle or the alicorn that cast the spell with them. It didn’t even look like they ever even tried to go back.

Why?

Twilight felt sick. Her teeth grinded together. Her breath was short.

Her timer had gone out. It would be best to go back, apologize to her friends and get rid of this hunger so she could think straight. Yeah. Everything would look better when she wasn’t all grumpy and tired. After all, Celestia had believed in her enough that she’d given her – she gulped, hard and tight against her raw throat – alicorn powers. She was prepared for this. She had to be. She would save Equestria. She just needed to take a break.

Twilight rasped in a breath, and teleported back in a flash. And the whole time, that question echoed in her mind:

Why hadn’t they gone back home?

The twilight remained, despite the time. Light of both sun and moon leaked from the canopy above, sparkled against the dew.

Princess Hazel stood her ground.

“No. I don’t allow it, Gladiolus.”

“So you’ll disobey the wishes of the elders just to justify your own fantasy? You’re a fool. A fawn. The Pack will be knocking at our door any day should you allow them to leave.”

“I’m not a fool, and certainly not just a dumb fawn. What if it’s true, Gladdy? What if they’re just trying to save their home?”

“And what if it’s not? Are you prepared to hand your people to a pack of carnivores?!”

“Please, Gladdy. I know I’m young. I know I’m not mom. But I’m doing my best. And I believe them. I want to believe them.”

A scoff. “You want to believe in magic, Ha–”

“And you’ve seen that magic. They have it, and lots of it. Even if they’re lying, there’s no way our herd could fight off two unicorns and a dragon. Has it ever occurred to you that I have more than one reason to be nice to these ponies? To not make them and the Pack angry? I’m not as stupid as you think I am, okay?”

Silence.

“... I know you’re not stupid, Hazel. And… And I hope, for our sakes’ that you’re right, sister.”

…

“I do too.”

That night, bathed in the wan light of their withering sun, the Hartton militia turned back and clustered back into their homes. And, more importantly, they didn’t attack the six ponies and dragon that had come into their camp earlier in the day.

Hazel hoped she had done the right thing.

257 views

Previous Chapters Next

Ouroboros - OfTheIronwilled

Stats

FIMFiction

Follow & Support Us