My Brave Pony: The Heart of the World

by Scipio Smith

Mount Hyperion

Mount Hyperion

Mount Hyperion loomed above them. The lonely mountain sat in the midst of the empty desert, rising above it like a unicorn’s horn rising out of their forehead – and like a unicorn’s horn it held power within it, even if it kept that power hidden.

This was the place. It had not been obvious at first, as they had made their way step by step, metre by metre towards the rising peak of jagged, reddish-yellow stone like the colour of the setting sun. It was not clear why this of all places should be the place to find the Heart of the World, except that Queen Dido’s account stated that it was, and Sunset had believed it was as well. Since parting company with Mantle and his zebras – and with Ace – the journey of Twilight and her friends to reach the mountain had been, not always easy, but at least untroubled. The weather which had bedevilled Sunset’s group had spared them, there had been no sandstorms to worry about, nothing to force them to turn aside and seek shelter in ancient ruins – and a good thing too, because they hadn’t come across any ruins. They had, however, found water, often where Hamilcar had said that they would find it, at least at first, and later on they had always found a fresh water source before their supplies began to run low.

At times, Twilight had almost dared to hope that their luck had changed, that the misfortunes which had seemed to conspire against them in earlier stages of the journey had abated, and that the same forces of fate and destiny which had been set against them now smiled upon her and her quest.

Foolish and naïve, perhaps, but it made her feel better. It made the sun feel less burningly hot, it made the journey feel less long, it made… it made her feel better to imagine that from this point on it was all certain to work out in the end.

She couldn’t help but think that they deserved a break.

This was the right place. It might not look it from a distance, but when they had actually reached the mountain Twilight and the others had walked a full circumference around it and discovered, on the southern slope, a staircase cut into the rock, climbing its winding way up the mountain towards… towards the Heart of the World, and the aim of this entire expedition.

She was so close now. Twilight could just imagine… well, no, she still couldn’t imagine what the Heart of the World actually was, but she could imagine it, whatever it might be, giving her what she wanted, telling her that Lightning and Krysta were alive, telling her how to find them, perhaps even bringing them to her as it had done in days of old, according to the legends.

Or perhaps… or perhaps it would not. Perhaps it would refuse her. Perhaps it would turn her away. After all, the same legends that spoke of the Heart, the legends that had brought her here, said that the Heart of the World had closed its heart, and cut itself off from the world around it.

Twilight frowned. No. No, she wouldn’t let that happen. She wouldn’t take no for an answer. She had… she had come too far for that. After everything that her friends had done to help her, everything that they had risked, after Ace had been so badly injured… she wouldn’t just go away because she was told to. She would get, at the very least, confirmation that they were alive and safe or she would sit outside the Heart’s doorway until the end of time!

A thought crept across the back of her mind. A thought that she had been trying very hard not to think about but… there were times when it was hard to ignore: the possibility that Lightning and Krysta were not safe.

There was no guarantee, after all. Twilight had tried to act as though she knew for a fact that they were out there somewhere, from the moment that they had disappeared, from the moment that she had vowed to find them, but the truth was… well, the truth was that if she knew for a fact that they were safe then she wouldn’t have needed to come looking for the Heart of the World, would she?

Where they had gone… it was not a habitable place. It had almost killed them once, by their own account, and this time… perhaps they were dead. Perhaps the void had claimed them. Perhaps the Heart of the World would tell her no more than that Lightning and Krysta were gone beyond recall.

Perhaps this had all been for nothing.

No. No, not for nothing. Even if that were so, even if they were gone then… then at least she would know. At least she would be able to mourn them. At least she would know, one way or the other.

“Sugarcube,” Applejack’s voice intruded into her thoughts. “You okay?”

Twilight blinked rapidly, recalled to herself, or rather recalled out of herself and back into the world to find that everypony – and Spike – was looking at her.

They were camped at the foot of the stairs, the mountain looming over them as they sat around a fire made with wood that they had brought with them all the way from Utica. The firelight reflected upon the sunset-coloured rock that rose above them all, flickering like the dying light of the sun at dusk upon the stone.

“Sorry,” Twilight murmured. “I was just… I was just thinking.”

Applejack nodded. “Thinkin’ about what lies ahead?”

“Thinking about what I might find,” Twilight replied. “I mean… I’ve been kind of convincing myself that once I get up there I’ll find good news but… but I have to accept the possibility that I might not.”

Nopony said anything for a moment. Then Applejack said, “It can be hard, Ah know that, it can be… it can be real hard. But even if they are gone… they won’t ever leave you, not really. Not so long as you keep ‘em close, right here.” She reached out, and tapped Twilight on the heart gently with one hoof.

Twilight smiled sadly. “I know,” she whispered. “But I’m still hoping it won’t come to that. I’m still hoping-“

“For the best, Ah know,” Applejack said gently. “We all are. That’s why we’re here, ‘cause we’re all rootin’ for you, sugarcube.”

Rarity nodded. Pinkie beamed. Fluttershy’s smile was of a gentler sort, but no less encouraging.

Rainbow Dash’s expression did not changed, but as Twilight’s eyes darted across her friends, she winked at her, and that was enough.

“Girls, and Spike,” Twilight added hastily. “I… no matter what happens tomorrow morning, I want you to know how… how grateful I am to all of you. You didn’t have to come with me, you didn’t have to do all that you’ve done… but you did, and I’ll never forget it. I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you, I wouldn’t be here without you, I… I love Lightning, that’s true, but I also… I love you girls, I love all of you, so much, and I don’t want you to ever forget that.”

Rarity chuckled. “Never, darling. Not in a thousand years.”

“Group hug!” Pinkie cried.

“Pinkie, wai-“ Twilight’s words were cut off as Pinkie’s forelegs extended outwards to an absurd degree – how in Equestria or anywhere else was she doing that – and enveloped all of the rest of the group, ensnaring them within her embrace and pulling them towards her until they were all bundled up together, their coats and cheeks pressing against one another, their bodies warm against one another.

Warm with affection, warm with friendship, warm with love.

Twilight closed her eyes, and stopped struggling. Pinkie may have taken them all by surprised but, honestly, this was nice. This wasn’t something she was anxious to see end.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you all.”

Nopony replied. Nopony felt the need. They all just lingered like that, resting in their mutual embrace, legs intertwined, all wrapped around Twilight like a great organic blanket, marinating in the affection that existed between them.

Then Rainbow said, “What we find.”

Twilight opened her eyes. “What?”

“You said ‘what I find’,” Rainbow pointed out. “But you meant ‘what we find’, didn’t you, Twilight?”

Pinkie released them, and all the rest released each other, all of them separating once more to return to their places around the fire.

“Rainbow Dash,” Twilight said. “We’ve talked about this.”

“Maybe I want to talk about it again,” Rainbow replied. “Where everypony can hear it.”

“What are we talking about?” Pinkie asked.

“Whether Twilight needs to go up that mountain alone, Ah’d guess,” Applejack said. “That’s about right, ain’t it?”

“Darling, you can’t be serious!” Rarity cried.

“You all know what I found in Queen Dido’s account,” Twilight reminded them. “She journeyed to the foot of the mountain accompanied only by her closest companions, and then… she made her way up the mountain alone.”

“She also left all her guards and the like behind when she came to some marker, if I recall,” Applejack said. “We only left Ace behind on account of she got herself hurt protectin’ us.”

“But we did leave her behind,” Twilight pointed out.

“That’s coincidence,” Rainbow said sharply.

“Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t have power,” Twilight replied.

“We didn’t leave Ace behind until we left Mantle and the rest behind,” Fluttershy said. “If we were following the same steps, don’t you think that Mantle and the other zebras would have had to drop back sooner.”

“Not to mention what Hamilcar said about Sunset Shimmer, she didn’t leave no one behind,” Applejack said.

“Everyone left her,” Twilight pointed out.

“Because they felt like it,” Applejack replied. “Ah’m just sayin’, there ain’t no proof that you have to leave folks behind you at this point and that point or else somethin’ bad will happen.”

“Bad things have happened,” Twilight said. “To us and to Sunset, but they stopped happening when we set forth on our own, with only me and my close friends.”

“Not so close that you’ll listen to us,” Rainbow muttered.

“Settle down, Rainbow,” Applejack urged. She pushed her hat a little back on her head with one hoof. “Twilight, Ah hear what you’re sayin’, but… just because the old zebras believed that you had to do things in just such a way don’t mean that its gotta be that way. Just because somethin’ is tradition don’t make it law, certainly not law of nature.”

“I’m not sure that we should be so quick to dismiss the wisdom of those who actually interacted with the Heart of the World,” Twilight said. “I just… I don’t want to… what if we all go up and there because I didn’t go up there alone I get turned away?”

Nopony replied to that.

At least, nopony replied to that until Applejack said, “Well, Ah guess you might have a point there.” She paused. “But you understand why we don’t like the idea, right?”

“Are we just supposed to wait for you to come back?” Rainbow added. “What if you don’t come back?”

“We’ve come this far together,” Fluttershy murmured.

“You just said that we’d all helped,” Pinkie said.

“Hold on, y’all, ain’t no need to pile onto Twilight,” Applejack said. “Ah’m sure she ain’t contemplatin’ this lightly, are you sugarcube?”

“No,” Twilight said quickly. “No, of course not, but… I just don’t want to miss my chance. I mean, you can all understand that, right?”

“I think, darling, that the question is not so much our understanding as it is our belief,” Rarity said mildly. “To put it plainly, do we think this is really necessary?”

“I don’t know,” Twilight admitted. “All that I know is… I’m not sure that I can afford to risk that it isn’t.”

“And Ah think,” Applejack said. “That you need to have a little more faith.”

Twilight frowned. “Faith?”

“Maybe it was a rule,” Applejack conceded. “Maybe it was somethin’ that had to be done in the old days. Maybe it’s even what this Heart of the World prefers, but if you really think that he’ll turn you away, tell you to get lost, because you didn’t make the last part of the climb all by yourself, well then… Ah think if it’s really that stubborn then the likelihood is that it wouldn’t have helped you anyway. You think that the Heart of the World won’t understand that you needed help to get this far? You think that it can’t change its mind about some rule that it set up in the first place? I mean, hay, when we first met Mantle he wanted us to show him where the Heart was so he could have it all to himself, but he changed! So why can’t the Heart of the World change too? Why can’t it change it’s mind? Why can’t it see that things don’t have to be the way they were back in the old days, that things ain’t the way they were back in the old days?” She smiled. “If a greedy dragon lord can change, why not some wise oracle change a little bit too?”

Twilight hesitated. Applejack… Applejack made a very good point. “I… I hadn’t thought about it that way,” she admitted. “But now that I have… I can’t really argue against it.”

Applejack smiled. “Ah should hope not.”

Applejack didn’t say as much as some ponies, but when she did speak, she often made a great deal of sense. Like now.

“Okay,” she said. “We’ll go up the mountain together, and if the Heart objects to that then… then we’ll change its mind together, too.”

“Together!” Pinkie cheered, thrusting one hoof into the air.

Twilight chuckled, and then mimicked the gesture. “Together!”

The other ponies thrust their hooves skywards too. “Together!”

---

And so, the next morning, they began their ascent, climbing up the steep staircase that wound about the mountain. It was not always easy, especially not with the heat of the desert sun bearing down on them like this; perhaps there had been a time when the staircase had been regularly maintained to make it safe for those climbing up it to consult the Heart, but if that had been the case – and Twilight was inclined to think it had been, or things would surely be even worse – then that time had passed a long time ago: some of the stairs had been worn away by the wind until they were almost smooth and slippery, others had collapsed so that the gap between one stair and the other was too high for Twilight to jump; at times the staircase had crumbled so that only a very narrow ledge crossed a sheer drop beneath; sometimes there wasn’t even a ledge, just a gap in the stairs opening onto empty air.

And yet they climbed on upwards nevertheless, overcoming every obstacle as they came to it. When they came to a place where the stairs had crumbled away leaving a long jump between one and the other, Applejack cleared it in a single bound, her strong apple-bucking legs carrying her up into the air and onto the high stair above.

“Hold on, now,” Applejack said. “Let me just get mah rope.”

Rainbow flew up until she was level with Applejack. “Or I could just-“

“Aw, let me be useful,” Applejack said, in a tone that was half-jocular, half-begging. “It’d be the first time on this trip.”

“That’s not true,” Rainbow declared.

Applejack looked at her.

“Okay, it’s kind of true, but you said some smart things last night,” Rainbow reminded her.

“Well, thank you for that,” Applejack said, “but I’d like to do just a little more to earn my keep, if you don’t mind.”

Rainbow shrugged her shoulders. “Be my guest.”

Applejack lowered down a rope, which Twilight tied with her magic around Rarity. “Okay,” Twilight called up. “We’re ready.”

Applejack began to haul on the rope, pulling Rarity up the rock-face. Twilight’s horn glowed faintly as she used her telekinesis to stop Rarity from swaying too much from side to side, but otherwise she let Applejack work as she pulled Rarity up to join her.

“Thank you, Applejack,” Rarity said. “That was a very comfortable experience.”

“Ah aim to please,” Applejack said.

“It’s a pity that you can’t carry us all the way up the mountain like that.”

“A pity for you, maybe,” Applejack said.

In the same way, and with the same lack of help from Twilight, Applejack got Pinkie and Spike up, and then finally Twilight herself.

“Thanks,” Twilight said.

Applejack smiled. “Any time, sugarcube.” Her green eyes gleamed mischievously. “Now what would you have done-“

“Yeah, yeah, okay, I get it.”

It was the same story all along the journey, whether it was Applejack getting more use of her rope by using it to create a makeshift barrier along the length of the ledge to help everypony make the crossing okay, or Rainbow Dash flying them across the unbridged crevices, or Twilight herself getting to contribute something by using her reverse gravity spell to get them up the slippery slopes where the steps had been worn away, they were all able to help one another make it up the difficult parts of the staircase.

And yes, Twilight wouldn’t have made it without the others. She didn’t say so, not because she was too proud to admit it but because she was confident that the others all knew perfectly well already.

She wouldn’t have made it up the slope without them, just like she wouldn’t have made it to the mountain without them.

She’d have to find some way to thank them for everything that they had done; she just needed to figure out what, or how.

Something to think about, once they were all back in Ponyville.

For now, they kept on climbing. Every so often, every hour or two as best as Twilight could judge, or whenever they came to a place that was suitable for it, they stopped for a rest, and shared a little or the water or lemon juice that they had brought with them in skins in their saddle bags; when the sun appeared to be at its zenith they stopped upon an unusually wide – for the staircase – flat ledge, and had a light lunch of biscuit and tinned fruit.

As they were eating, Twilight noticed that the mountain wall here was unusually flat, not in the sense of having been worn flat by the elements but in the sense of having been flattened artificially. It was genuinely a wall, rather than a cliff face, and it was a wall moreover which had been covered in writing: marks carved or scrawled upon the stone, the remnants of white marks still visible in ancient runes that Twilight would have had to study intensely to decipher. Most of them were old messages, unreadable to Twilight without more time than she had to give to them, but one stood out to her as being much more recent: it had been burned into the rock by magic, by a unicorn using their horn to sear the markings into the stone, as Twilight could have done if she had been inclined.

And for another thing, it was written in Equestrian.

Applejack saw what she was staring at. “Ah can read that,” she said, in a tone of some surprise, as she wandered over to stand by Twilight’s side. “Sunset Shimmer passed this way, seeking her destiny.” She paused. “Well, Ah’ll be. She made it after all.”

“She made it this far,” Twilight said. “I wonder how she managed to get up the stairs all by herself.” She hesitated. “Maybe she was more talented in magic than I was.”

“Maybe,” Applejack allowed. “But bein’ good at magic ain’t everythin’, especially if you ain’t usin’ it right. Ah’ll bet she wasn’t as nice to know, nor as ready to help out neither.”

Twilight felt a faint blush rise to her cheeks. “Well… I try my best. And I know one thing Sunset didn’t have: all of you.” She thought for a moment, and the more she thought about it the more resolved she was to do it. Her horn flared with a bright lavender light as she lowered her head and, next to Sunset’s message, burned one of her own into the flat rock wall.

Twilight Sparkle reached this point with the help of her friends Applejack, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy and Spike. She wouldn’t have made it without the assistance of Zecora of Utica, and Ace Ray of the Canterlot Royal Guard. She came here seeking information.

“How does that look?” Twilight asked.

“Well, it’s a little late to ask us now,” Rainbow pointed out, as everypony – and Spike – gathered around. “But I guess it works.”

“I think it works very well,” Fluttershy said softly.

They continued on, climbing the stairs, helping each other, until they came to a point where the stair finished, the path led into a dark cave, the mouth hiding whatever lay within beneath a layer of shadows.

It gaped to receive them like a mouth.

“Well,” Twilight observed, “there doesn’t seem anywhere else to go.”

“Let me check that first,” Rainbow said, and she took off into the air, leaving a rainbow trail behind her as she darted around the mountain. It took her very little time to return. “Yeah, there’s nothing else: cave it is.”

“I wonder what’s inside?” Fluttersh wondered tremulously.

“The reason we came all this way, hopefully,” Applejack said.

“Oh, right, yes, of course.”

“Rarity,” Twilight said. “You’ve probably explored more caves than most of us here, would you mind taking the lead?”

“Not at all, darling,” Rarity said, and a bright light, only gently tinged with blue, shone from her horn as she strode forward. “Although I do wish that we had thought to bring some helmets.”

They had climbed up the side of the mountain; now they descended into it, as they swiftly discovered that the way into the cave led downwards. Down and down they walked, their footfalls echoing off the walls of rugged stone, down and down into the bowels of the earth until the last traces of the sunlight disappeared and they had only the light from Rarity’s horn – and a second light from Twilight’s – was left to guide them on.

Down and down, descending from the sunlight into a netherworld where the passage of time was impossible to gauge, where the air felt stale, where nopony felt like talking.

Down and down, down and down through a narrow corridor hewn into the rock until they came to a large circular chamber, where crystals fixed at regular intervals around the walls reflected the light of the unicorns’ horns, enough to illuminate at least a little of the space. It was empty, at least as far as the darkness was dispelled to tell.

As it was empty, as far as they could see, the ponies began to cross the chamber, only to be arrested by a voice emerging from out of the darkness.

“That is far enough,” the voice was female, mature but not old, or at least it did not sound old. There was a slight lilt to it, an accent that Twilight couldn’t quite place.

“Hello?” Twilight called. “Who… who’s there?” She wondered if this might be the Heart of the World, or at least their voice speaking to them from… somewhere else.

Something descended from the ceiling. It was… Twilight wasn’t exactly sure what it was, it looked… like nothing that she had ever seen before. In form it vaguely resembled Krysta, although much larger, like a minotaur perhaps, although without the distinct horns: it was bipedal, at least, with two legs and two arms. But it was made of metal, a shimmering smooth metallic body that seemed to flow like quicksilver, with no joints visible. Twilight considered whether they might be a golem, made of metal instead of clay, or perhaps they were just a very rare type of being that Twilight had never come across before in any of her reading.

Whatever it was, they – she? They? – lowered themselves down from the ceiling upon a wire, which then retracted back into the darkness and away from view. The light from the crystals in the walls reflected upon their metal body as they regarded the ponies. They had no hair, their metal head was completely bald. They had no eyes either, at least not distinguishable from the metal all around their face, and yet Twilight felt seen nonetheless.

“Visitors to the Heart of the World are supposed to come alone,” they declared. A sigh escaped them. “But standards are slipping everywhere I suppose.” They clapped their hands together, and the passageway through which the ponies had entered the chamber sealed itself behind them, a metallic door descending to cut them off from the surface.

“You may call me… Door,” they said. “It describes my duties as well as anything. From time immemorial, since the moment of my creation, it has been my task to judge those who come seeking audience with the Heart of the World, to judge their request and the purity of their intent. In days gone by, those whom I judged unworthy were simply asked to leave; now… things are different. You have found the Heart of the World, for which you are to be commended and, if need be, condemned. Now, if you do not convince me that you should be permitted to continue on, then you will be disposed of.”

“We’re tougher than you think,” Rainbow growled.

“Rainbow, wait,” Twilight urged. She took a step forward, closer to Door. “Is that what happened to Sunset Shimmer? Did you dispose of her? Is that why she never came back?”

“You are not the first to come asking about Sunset Shimmer,” Door observed.

Twilight’s eyes widened. “Dawn? Dawn Starfall, she made it this far?”

“I believe that was her name,” Door replied. “Like you, she did not come alone. She, and all her companions, were disposed of. As was Sunset Shimmer.”

Twilight frowned. “But I… I have heard of Sunset Shimmer, far from here, alive-“

“I did not say they were killed, I said that they had been disposed of,” Door corrected her. “They were sent away, far from here, to where they could never reveal the location of the Heart of the World to anyone. If you have heard of the in another place, then… that would mean that the walls of the fortress are not as secure as is believed.” Door paused. “Do you speak for these?”

“They speak for themselves,” Twilight said, “but… I’m the reason they came. They came to help me get here.”

“Then you must speak, and upon your answers hang the fate of your companions,” Door declared. “Prove yourselves, or be disposed of.”

The fact that being disposed of did not mean killed, only exiled from Equestria out beyond the stars, was rather cold comfort in Twilight’s opinion. She licked her lips, and glanced behind her.

It was to her great relief that she saw no signs on any of their faces that they blamed her for this; indeed, in their expressions she saw only confidence; confidence that gave her confidence in turn.

She opened her mouth.

Door held up one finger. “Confine yourself to one word answers only,” they instructed.

Twilight hesitated. “Why?”

“Truth is singular,” Door pronounced. “Lies are… words. Sunset Shimmer and Dawn Starfall both spoke very well, but they spoke at such length. So many words. So much bluster to conceal the truth of two entitled children throwing tantrums because they didn’t get their way with mummy. Now: you have come to ask the Heart of the World for a favour?”

“Yes,” Twilight said, it was a simple enough question to answer simply.

“Why?”

Twilight thought about it. One word to explain why she had come. One single word to encapsulate it all. One single word to say why she come all this way, through so much trouble and at such risk. “Need.”

“Need,” Door repeated. “What is that you need? What need has brought you here?”

Again, Twilight considered. She hoped that she was at least allowed to take her time if she was being forced to play this game. What did she want, what one word summed up why she had come? “Knowledge.”

“The Heart of the World has not seen anyone in a thousand years,” Door said. “Why should they see you now?”

Twilight closed her eyes. What could she say? How could she choose one word that would change the mind of a being who seemed determined to cut themselves off from the world. “Kindness.”

“Do you mean that it would be kind for the Heart to see you or that you have come to the Heart to do a kindness?”

“Yes,” Twilight said.

For a moment, she thought that she saw a smile cross Door’s smooth, metallic face. “Why,” she asked, “is the Heart of the World whose kindness you require?”

“Stars,” Twilight said.

Door stared at her. “What do you know about the nature of this world?”

“Shield,” Twilight said.

Door continued to stare down at her. “Who are these ponies who stand behind you?”

“Friends.”

“And what are they doing here.”

“Friends,” Twilight repeated, with a little added emphasis.

“Your predecessors sought for crowns and power, that means nothing to you.”

“Nothing,” Twilight confirmed.

“Then, if you do meet with the Heart of the World, where will you go after.”

Twilight smiled. “Library.”

Door took a moment to reply. “You may see the Heart of the World, alone,” she said. “Once they have spoke with you, they met yet order you disposed of, but you may see him.” She turned away. “Come with me, uh…” she looked back. “You may use more than one word, if necessary.”

“Twilight Sparkle,” Twilight said. “My name is Twilight Sparkle.”

Door smiled. “Come with me, Twilight Sparkle.”