CRISIS: Equestria - Divergence, Book 2

by GanonFLCL

Chapter Twelve: Time

Earlier That Day…

Winter Glow watched carefully as her apprentice, Hourglass, handled the Timekeeper—a nondescript-looking pocket watch—with the careful precision that was required for such a device. The little watch belonged to Winter, of course, not to Hourglass; the latter would receive her own once she was fully accredited as a Chronomancer, and that was still some ways away. This was just a training exercise so that Hourglass would be ready for the real thing.

The pair practiced in Winter's apartment, a shabby-buy-not-too-shabby hole in the wall located on the upper floor of a smaller complex in the Mid-North District of New Pandemonium. It was barely large enough for Winter alone, so living with Hourglass was tough at times, but Winter had been insistent about not getting help from Lockwood to get a better place than this. She didn't want to get so comfortable that she actually liked being at home, because that just made work suck that much more.

As always, they wore their official uniforms: Winter in a purple turtleneck sweater with a matching scarf and beret, Hourglass in a mare's black tuxedo with a matching bow tie and little top hat. Chronomancers got to choose their "look", which became a permanent fixture for the remainder of their tenure. They could adjust it for things like environmental conditions but rarely did it for much else, even formal occasions like, say, a wedding.

Chronomancers had odd rules at times, but this was one of the tamer ones.

"Okay, now ya just give the left dial three quarter turns clockwise," explained Winter as she carefully looked over Hourglass's shoulder, "and then ya click it back in."

"Like this?" asked Hourglass

The younger mare followed the instructions to the letter, giving the left dial on the Timekeeper three clockwise quarter turns—they had to be precise!—before popping it back into place. The device dinged and glowed a dim green momentarily before returning to its normal color.

Winter smiled and nodded. "Ace! Now, read out the information on the display for me, see if ya can tell me how accurate it seems to ya."

Hourglass squinted and read out the data aloud: "Currently active anomalies: zero. Reported anomalies in the past day-cycle period: zero; in the past week-cycle period: one; month cycle: four; rotational cycle: twelve." She tilted her head. "Is this a catalogue of the Void anomalies we've closed up all year?"

"That's right. Do the numbers match up to ya based on what you've seen?"

Hourglass closed her eyes briefly—she always did that when performing calculations in her head—then nodded. "Yeah, the numbers are bang on." She pointed at the bottom of the screen. "Oh look, there's even a figure here at the bottom that predicts when we can expect the next anomaly. Four weeks out? How accurate is that?"

"Typically one hundred percent," Winter said with a confident grin. "Good for figurin' out how long ya get to take a break."

"Neato. Bloody shame it can't predict where it'll pop up until it's closer to us. Would make it easier to prepare, right?"

Winter shrugged. "Yeah, damn shame, that. But then where's the excitement in the job, eh?"

"I thought you hated this job?"

"Oh, sure, but can ya imagine how much worse it would be if it was borin' too?" She then gestured back at the pocket watch. "Let's move on though. We've got a bit more to cover today, and we'll head to lunch once we're all finished up. I'm feelin' like given' a go to that hay fries place downtown."

"Wicked, sounds good to me." Hourglass said with a nod; the top hat on her head didn't even move an inch, as though fixed in place. "Righto then, what's next?"

"This one's complicated, so listen closely: first, you're gonna pull out both right-side dials. Then, twist the one closest to ya one full turn clockwise, then twist the one furthest from ya one quarter counterclockwise, then click the closer one back in, turn the father one half turn clockwise, and lastly you'll click that one in as well."

Hourglass bit her tongue as she followed the instructions, but once she was finished, the device gave a loud beep, briefly glowing red. She sighed, gave the pocket watch a gentle shake to reset it, then tried again. Again it beeped and glowed red, and this time she grumbled a bit more angrily, shook the pocket watch, and went right back to it. The third time, she got it right; the device dinged and glowed a dim green.

"Finally. Why was that one so tough?" she asked, giving Winter an aggravated grunt.

"Because that's the combination that activates the Timekeeper's ability to manipulate a Void anomaly's dimensional data," Winter explained. "The more complex combinations tend to be for more powerful functionalities. Ya haven't seen the worst of it yet, let me tell ya."

Hourglass glanced at the device again, then back to Winter, awestruck. "That wasn't even the most complicated one?"

"That's the most complicated basic function, sure, and one that you'll be using frequently, so ya better memorize it. In fact, ya gotta memorize all of the combinations, in case ya gotta use 'em in stressful situations." With a grin, she clapped Hourglass on the shoulder. "Don't worry though, mate, they're all written down in the guidebook. Just click the top dial five times to access it."

Hourglass did so, which displayed written instructions on all of the different basic combinations features. Her eyes widened in shock. "Bloody hell, there're so many." She glanced at Winter again. "And these are just the 'basic' ones? You mean there're more advanced ones not written down in here?"

"For emergency functions, yeah. They'll go over those with ya at HQ when ya get your own Timekeeper, though; I can't show 'em to ya. Goes against protocol."

Winter took the pocket watch from Hourglass briefly and spun it about. "Just remember, this device is what makes you a Chronomancer, not just some survivalist twit who happens to know their way around the world, eh? Whatever happens, once you get your own one of these, you need to keep it with you—intact—at all costs."

"Right, makes sense," Hourglass said with an understanding nod. "What kinds of other things can it do, anyway? To be honest with you, it doesn't seem like it does anything but read data and close or open Void anomalies."

"I can't go over those features with ya, sorry. But hey, I can tell ya that it's not called a 'Timekeeper' for no reason, eh?" She passed the device back to Hourglass. "Now, do that last combination for me again, and I'll open up a simulation anomaly for you to practice with. Remember, the most important part of your job is keeping those rifts in check, so—"

They both went quiet when the Timekeeper suddenly turned completely black and began vibrating violently in Hourglass's magical field.

"I didn't do anything!" Hourglass blurted as she tried to pass it back to Winter. "I swear!"

Winter narrowed her eyes at the device and quickly took it from Hourglass's field into her own. "This isn't you, mate. This is—" Then, just as suddenly as it started, the Timekeeper stopped shaking and returned to its normal coloration. "What the… hmm."

She popped the device's front open and adjusted the dials multiple times in the proper combination. Once she was done, the screen on the device displayed a graph of data, which was composed of a pair of flat lines—one white, one black—that ran flat across the horizontal axis with blips up or down so tiny that they were almost impossible to see with the untrained naked eye.

Except now, at the very end of the graph, there was a huge spike in the black level, which then instantly reverted back down to the flat line, except that it was just slightly above the white one. Winter adjusted the graph so that she could see the results of the spike, and she could see that the difference was so miniscule that the average observer wouldn't find it odd at all.

To Winter, though, it meant everything: not only was the balance between the two lines different now than it had been before the sudden spike, it was growing more disparate by the second. The rate was pathetically small—less than a thousandth of a percent per minute—but it was noticeable enough to somepony whose entire job it was to observe such imbalances.

"What's wrong?" Hourglass asked. "What happened?"

Winter observed the data for another moment, then shook her head. "We've got a problem. There's an imbalance in the world's Light/Darkness levels. I don't know what the hell that spike was, but it looks like it was the cause of it."

"Don't you mean 'Law/Chaos'?" Hourglass asked, sincere as ever.

"Semantics at this point. This world calls their balance levels Light and Darkness, so that's the terminology I'm usin' even though I know it's not what you're used to. They taught ya about it being the Law/Chaos dynamic back at HQ, but every world is different—"

She paused, then sighed; getting into an argument about it was the last thing she wanted to do right now, for multiple reasons. "Besides, it's not relevant what they're called unless you wanna be a stuck-up twat about it. Balance is balance, and it's our job to observe imbalances like this. These things cause Void anomalies if left unchecked. Big ones."

"I know that, Winter. How big are we talking about there?"

"World-ending big, if that spike was any indication." She changed the display with another combination of dial turns and clicks. "There's no Void anomaly yet, but the imbalance is growing. If the level of imbalance reaches even one-tenth as high as that spike's peak did, we're looking at a potential apocalypse-level scenario. Last time I dealt with a situation like this was…"

She frowned as memories came flooding back, of happy times spent at the side of the best friend she'd ever had, the only pony she'd ever developed stars-be-damned feelings for, all knowing full well that the fate of two entire worlds depended on ensuring that they never saw each other again. She'd done a good job over the years avoiding reminiscing about Twilight Sparkle… but sometimes she couldn't help it.

But there was work to do, so Winter violently forced those thoughts to the farthest recesses of her mind, like she always did.

She adjusted the Timekeeper dials slightly, displaying a map of the northern continent on its screen. "Let's see if I can pinpoint that spike's origin, hmm?"

It took her only a few moments to do so, adjusting dials as she went to manipulate the map's display and to calculate readings as accurately as she possibly could remotely. Once she got her results, she read them aloud:

"Somewhere in the Goldridge Mountains, looks like. Huh… that's weird."

Hourglass tilted her head. "It is?"

"Ya know how I've told ya that the Gargantuans don't like headin' too close to Goldridge, yeah? It's because there's a higher concentration of Light magic in the area than elsewhere in the north. Something to do with the ancient ruins of the gryphon city there, but nopony knows for sure."

"So this is weird because…?"

"Because the spike was entirely Dark magic. The last dangerous imbalance our world dealt with was roughly seven years ago, and that was related to Light magic, and it wasn't quite as volatile." Winter squinted at the data again, and shook her head. "That spike was so fucked that I think it might be glitching my readings. It isn't a signature I recognize."

"Huh?"

"Powerful sources of Light and Dark have signatures that are recognizable. It makes it easy to track them and pinpoint what's causing issues. I have the signatures for the Beacons both up here and down south, as well as a few other powerful sources, but this one is… new." She shook her head. "Anyway, I don't want to assume that our situation here is the same as in the past, but it's still our job to investigate it."

Hourglass nodded firmly. "Righto then, let's hop to it. What's the plan?"

"Traveling to Goldridge itself is the easy part. We can handle a few little dust storms before that big one arrives, eh? It's leavin' the city that'll be the tough part."

"Ah… right, the lockdown," Hourglass muttered, rubbing her chin. "They haven't ordered the full curfew yet, but nopony's allowed to leave the city until after the all-clear is given, not without proper clearance. So… we need clearance, right?"

"Right," Winter grunted. "Luckily, I know who to ask."

*****

Winter and Hourglass rode in the elevator of Pandora Tower all the way up towards the topmost floor. Winter remained calm and collected the whole way up; Hourglass, however, was staring wide-eyed out the elevator's window onto the city beyond, not exactly awed per se, but more… curious. This would be the first time the younger mare had ever seen the city from this angle, come to think of it, and Hourglass was the sort to get a little giddy over that sort of thing.

"Strike me pink! I knew you knew some important ponies, Winter, but I didn't think you actually knew anypony who lived up in this big tower," Hourglass muttered, her face practically against the glass. "I didn't know they even made buildings this tall. Bloody hell, how high does this thing go?"

Winter snorted. "I don't particularly like takin' advantage of my connections except in emergencies. I'd say this constitutes an emergency, yeah?"

She quietly tapped her hoof on the floor as she mentally prepared herself for the upcoming meeting. The elevator music—some sort of symphonic ballad—wasn't helping matters; it was too slow and tranquil for her tastes and just aggravated her stress rather than alleviating it. The last time she'd rode this elevator had been to meet with Lord Silvertongue, and back then the elevator had been pleasantly quiet.

"So, this 'Golden Dawn'... I recognize the name, I think," Hourglass said, not turning to look at Winter. "She was at the wedding a few years back, right? I don't remember everything about the trip, but I think I remember her. She was the posh-type unicorn mare… the one that was a bit snooty, right? Not the half-sharp one?"

"That's the one. Good on ya with the memory there."

"You talked about her before, I think. Her and… That Other Mare."

Winter clenched her teeth briefly, but she was glad Hourglass was trying not to be too direct about it. She'd talked with her apprentice in the past about the situation that led to HQ deciding to assign her an apprentice early; apparently dealing with the Elements of Harmony situation as well as she did convinced them she should immediately start training others.

She hadn't gone into a lot of detail at the time, but Hourglass had been able to pick up well enough that Winter did not want to talk about Twilight Sparkle if she could help it.

Hourglass tilted her head. "Huh. I still find it hard to imagine you being friends with somepony so full of themselves. I didn't think much of it until I met her myself, but she seemed worse than how you described her before."

"Strewth, but I wouldn't exactly call Dawn and I 'friends'. We're acquaintances, nothing more. Apart from you, I don't have any friends… at least not in this world."

"So, even King Lockwood—"

"Still just an acquaintance. Better than most, sure—I wouldn't have gone to the weddin' otherwise—but we don't exactly talk much anymore." Winter shook her head dejectedly. "You'll learn eventually, mate: attachments aren't worth much in this line of work, not for folks like you and me. All they do is lead to gettin' hurt."

"What about me? You said we were friends, right?"

Winter froze up slightly, then shook her head again. "As if ya have to ask. Of course you are, mate; you're my mate! Always have been. You're different. I know I wasn't expectin' to get ya as my apprentice, but worse-case scenario, there was always a possibility of seein' ya again."

Hourglass stayed silent a moment, then turned her attention back to the elevator window. "Bloody hell, it's not any less weird today than it was when you first picked me up. I used to be older than you, but here you are now, nearly twice my age and still considering me the only friend you can talk to. Bonkers is what it is."

The elevator came to a stop at the top floor, and the pair disembarked and made straight for the Shadow Associate's office. A knock at the door was all they needed to do so that Dawn would know they'd arrived.

"Enter," came Dawn's voice from the other side.

They did so.

Dawn was seated at her desk, currently turned away from the door and facing the tinted window that looked out onto the city. She wordlessly gestured towards the chairs on the opposite side of her desk so that Winter and Hourglass would know to seat themselves, which they did wordlessly as well. Winter inwardly snorted; this all seemed a bit pretentious, but then again that was so Dawn.

"This is quite the surprise, would you not agree, Winter?" Dawn asked.

She swiveled around in her chair to face them as they sat down, and Winter could see the other mare had hardly changed a bit since they'd last seen each other: still the same professional style of dress and presentation, still the same disinterested, almost dismissive look in her eyes. The only difference was that Dawn now wore glasses, horn-rimmed of course since those seemed the most professional.

Winter grunted. "The only surprisin' thing here is seein' ya wearin' glasses. Your eyesight goin' bad there, Dawnie?"

Dawn quietly removed her glasses and cleaned them with only her magic, something that Winter knew required fine, delicate control over one's spellwork to do without damaging the glass. The other unicorn always did like to show off in subtle ways. Or not-so-subtle, on occasion.

"If you are curious," she replied, "then yes, my eyesight has faltered this past year. My vision is still crisp enough without these spectacles that I am capable of seeing clearly, but I am of the opinion that I had best prepare myself for the eventuality that I will require them at all times."

"Doesn't this world have the technology to repair eyesight?" Hourglass asked.

Dawn gave her a brief, cursory glance, then turned back to Winter. "I have refused corrective laser surgery unless it is required to correct a catastrophic deterioration in my eyesight." She cleared her throat. "But I do not theorize that the intention of this rendezvous was to 'check up' on me and inquire about my optometric health."

"No, it's not," Winter replied.

"Of course." Dawn shook her head, her lips curling in a slight grin. "How much time has passed since we last encountered one another, Winter? Lockwood's wedding, I believe?"

Winter nodded. "That's right."

"Approximately… six years, if I am not mistaken. My, how time flies…" Dawn tilted her head and glanced at Hourglass, who she also gave a smile. "Your apprentice has matured quite admirably. A pleasure to make your acquaintance again, Miss… ah, I cannot seem to recall your appellation. Forgive me. You are?"

"Hourglass," the younger mare said with a polite nod. "A pleasure to meet you again, too, I suppose. Though I don't really think we 'met' back then, so much as we just said 'hi' and that was it."

"I see." Dawn shook her head and returned her attention to Winter. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this encounter, hmm? I have afforded you visitation rights to Pandora Tower for years now, but you have never deigned to utilize the privilege until today. You will need to forgive me if my inquisitiveness comes across as demanding."

"You don't at all, actually," Winter snorted. Dawn's false modesty was almost worse than her typical egotistical attitude was. She didn't like the adjustment. "And to be blunt, I just haven't felt the need to take advantage of our acquaintanceship so blatantly. A Chronomancer is intended to conduct themselves independently outside of extraneous circumstances."

Dawn frowned slightly. "Our… acquaintanceship, yes, of course." She cleared her throat, then was all-business again. "Well, if you have determined that whatever circumstances you are experiencing are extraneous, then I would be pleased to offer aid. What seems to be the trouble that you deemed my assistance in particular worth seeking out?"

"There was a massive spike in the world's magical balance just a few hours ago, specifically a spike of Dark energies," Winter explained. "The last time a spike of any significance occurred was when our world had extradimensional visitors, and we both know what the results of those circumstances were, and what was at stake."

"Naturally," Dawn said cooly, leaning back in her seat and steepling her hooves.

Dawn would remember of course that one of the most important results of that event was that she was even sitting in that chair drawing breath. Winter didn't feel the need to remind her so overtly that if not for Twilight and her friends accidentally ending up here in Equestria-V, Dawn and her sisters wouldn't even exist.

"I came to ya because I know that if anypony in this world would have any sort of insight into the situation, it would be you. Or, more specifically, your father Silvertongue."

Dawn raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yeah, y'know, seein' as he's supposed to be in charge of controllin' all of the world's Dark magic and keepin' it balanced and all that?" Winter leaned forward, a serious expression on her face. "I first had to be sure whether or not your dear old dad had anythin' to do with this."

"And if he does?"

"Then whatever he's doin' needs to stop before he tears the damn world apart." Winter tilted her head and grinned. "And if it's not him, then I need his help findin' out who or what is responsible. Because if it ain't him, then that means we've either got extradimensional visitors again, or somethin' else is wrong that I can't explain."

Dawn nodded slowly, then swiveled in her chair to look out the window again. After a moment, she responded, "I should inform you that I anticipated your arrival today, specifically regarding this circumstance. I had hoped our conversation would be more… pleasant, but I should never have expected us to spend much time discussing personal matters when business is at stake."

She then turned back to face Winter and Hourglass. "My father and I communicated a mere hour before your arrival. Our conversation was thorough, albeit brief. I can assure you that he is not responsible for this sudden 'spike' in Darkness levels, but that he is most definitely aware of its occurrence."

"Good, then he's willing to help us, I take it?" Winter asked, sitting up straight in her seat.

Dawn nodded. "Of course. My father's primary concern, his long-standing goal for the entirety of his life and beyond, had always been to maintain our world's balance between Light and Darkness. Though his methods differ from yours and those of your ilk, you share that purpose in your endeavors."

"Fair enough. Would he happen to know anythin' more about this anomaly than we do?"

"You have yet to inform me what exactly you do know about it. If you would enlighten me?"

Winter paused, then nodded, realizing she hadn't actually shared any details yet. "Right, right. All I know about it so far is that it was a humongous surge of Dark magic originatin' from somewhere in the Goldridge Mountains. I couldn't pinpoint exact coordinates since the spike was so brief, so if your dad knows where it started it'd be a big help."

"Yes, that coincides with my father's assessment of the situation. Unfortunately, the Goldridge Mountains are rife with oddities that make it a difficult place for him to scry upon from within the Dreaming. He suspects the ancient gryphon ruins may be at fault for it—"

Winter couldn't help herself. "Which is, ironically, his fault to begin with—"

Dawn scowled. "Do not assume you can understand the complexity of my father's decisions, Winter. The regrettable choices my father made to ensure his ultimate goal came to fruition will be worthwhile." With a huff, she continued, "Now, as to this 'anomaly', I regret that neither I nor my father can offer you much insight beyond what you already possess knowledge of."

"Fat lot of use he is, then," Winter grunted.

Hourglass looked between Dawn and Winter. "I'm not sure I follow all of this. Who's this 'Silvertongue', exactly?"

Dawn turned fully on Hourglass, more than a little irked at this point. "Lord Silvertongue is my father. He formerly served as the Warden—an empowered chaplain of sorts—to the former Goddess of Disparity, Nihila. The details would require an elongated expository exchange, but to summarize, he deceived her and usurped her power, and now serves in her place as God of Triumph."

Winter rolled her eyes. "Is that what he's goin' with? 'Triumph'?"

"The entirety of his life's work exemplifies the ideal of triumphing over adversity," Dawn snorted, giving Winter a hard look.

"Whatever you say."

Dawn then looked back to Hourglass. "I now serve my father as his Warden, as he once did for Nihila. It grants me the capability to communicate with my father within the Dreaming—a separate plane of existence from ours—and to carry out his wishes. I have utilized my past seven years accomplishing just that; soon, the Queen and King of Hope's Point will sign a peace treaty that will usher in a new age of prosperity throughout the north."

"Don't sound too proud of yourself there, Dawn," Winter huffed with a grin. "You've done good, I'll give ya that, but don't act like your success ain't built on the efforts of others, too."

Dawn narrowed her eyes again. "All of which was carried out due to my commands."

"Just sayin'." Winter shrugged and leaned back in her seat, casually playing with the hoofrest. "So anyway, what're you and your dad gonna do to help us out here? All I really came to ask for was permission to leave the city, but if your dad's been talkin' with you about the situation then ya must have more in mind."

Dawn leaned back in her seat as well. "Permission to depart New Pandemonium City shall be granted; it is a trifling matter. As for other assistance, I had originally planned on assigning a team to investigate the issue. I cannot do so myself, you must understand; I know not how long such an endeavor will take, and I must be present in the city for the arrival of King Lockwood and Queen Blackburn."

Winter tapped her chin. "Yeah, makes sense. Can't sign a peace treaty without both parties present."

"So you're giving us a team of ponies to help?" Hourglass asked, wide-eyed.

"No, not exactly," Dawn said, giving Hourglass a disapproving look before turning back to Winter. "I am aware of the dedication you assign to your work, Winter. You do not delay yourself for anypony, and I would be delaying you via the process of selecting a collection of ideal candidates for such an assignment."

"Meh. We can handle this on our own, anyway," Winter grunted. "I appreciate ya lettin' us leave the city at least. That's really all we needed anyway. So, thanks for everythin', but yeah, we'd better get to it." She turned to Hourglass. "C'mon."

Before Winter and Hourglass could get out of their seats, however, Dawn cleared her throat. "Winter, I did not plan on allowing you to depart entirely empty-hooved. I had already decided upon one participant of the team I was to assign to this task, and I can still assign him to you would be willing to allow it."

Winter and Hourglass shared a brief look, taken aback. "Yeah, alright. The more the merrier, I suppose," Winter said. "There are stipulations, of course. Whoever this is needs to know how to keep a secret; the nature of our work isn't meant to be common knowledge, as you know. I don't know what might come up in the course of this excursion, but it's worth sayin'."

"I am of the opinion that such a request would be no trouble for him whatsoever. You have my word on that."

"Good. Get on with it, then."

Dawn pressed a button on her intercom. "Sunspire. I require your assistance with an important assignment. Are you currently preoccupied?"

There was a slight pause on the other end, then a response: "Oh, um, n-no ma'am. I was just finishing up the documentation sorting assignment you required of me—"

"Ah, yes," Dawn said, glancing at the ceiling in thought. "I recall delivering that assignment to you this morning. No matter, I will see that it is reassigned and dealt with appropriately. This new assignment takes precedence. Report to my office immediately."

"Yes ma'am, right away ma'am."

Dawn then shut off the intercom and leaned back in her seat. "He will arrive momentarily."

The group waited for only a couple of minutes, and then there came a knock at the office door. "Enter!" called Dawn.

In walked a young unicorn colt, no more than ten years of age, with a peach-colored coat and a spiky orange-and-gold mane. He wore a little brown jacket over a plaid shirt and sported a set of goggles with green-tinted lenses which looked more like overly-large glasses.

"Reporting for duty, ma'am," the colt said with a salute.

"Punctual as ever, Sunspire," Dawn said with a nod. She gestured to Winter and Hourglass. "These are associates of mine, Winter Glow and Hourglass."

The colt, Sunspire, gave the two mares a nod. "Hello there. A pleasure to meet you both."

"Sunspire, as I iterated earlier, I have an assignment for you. Miss Glow and Miss Hourglass are intending on embarking on an expedition into the Wastelands to investigate a magical anomaly. I believe your unique talent may be of benefit to them in locating its precise location and the nature of its constitution."

"My talents, ma'am?" he asked, tilting his head. "Do they require guidance with an atlas?"

"Not that talent, Sunspire, no. I was referring to your ability to observe magical signatures."

He seemed surprised. "Oh. Um… okay then, ma'am. I'll do my best." He then paused, and his eyes went wide. "Wait, you mean… you want me to leave the city? As in venturing out into the Wastelands?"

Dawn nodded as if the answer was obvious. "Of course. They require your physical presence to benefit from your abilities."

Winter stared at the colt for a moment, then narrowed her eyes at Dawn. "You're kiddin', right? He's just a little colt! He doesn't even look like his balls have dropped yet, for stars' sake. I don't make it a habit of takin' kids out into the Wastelands—"

"You have engaged in repeated excursions into the Wastelands with your apprentice, have you not?" Dawn asked, eyes also narrowing.

Winter froze, glancing at Hourglass briefly. "That's different. She already had basic survival trainin', and I just helped expand—"

"Are you capable of pinpointing the precise location of this anomaly within a reasonable timeframe?" Dawn interjected. "As you will no doubt recall from the previous anomaly that caused such distress in our world, time served as a critical factor in the severity of the crisis. There is no telling what circumstances may have been different had certain elements been altered by mere hours, minutes, or even seconds."

"And ya think we can get there fast enough if I'm draggin' along a little colt?" Winter snapped.

"Sunspire, like all of the other students in the Shadow Candidate program, has participated in rudimentary survival courses, and each and every one of them are physically fit and sound of mind," Dawn continued, leaning forward in her seat.

"Dawn—"

"You conducted expeditions into the Wastelands with your apprentice when she was the same prepubescent age that Sunspire is now, younger in point of fact. No offense intended to Miss Hourglass, but I have absolute confidence in each and every one of my Shadows' capabilities. Their training has been exemplary, and I have overseen the reports personally; I cannot say the same for you and your apprentice."

Winter clenched her teeth and sharply rose from her seat. "Hourglass is at least as capable as any one of your 'Shadows' or whatever the hell you call 'em. And she's older now to boot."

"All the more reason to cease this inconsequential ruckus and accept the aid that I am willing to lend you," Dawn said, rising from her seat as well. "Between yourself and your exalted apprentice, you should not experience any complications by allowing Sunspire to join you on your excursion."

Hourglass cleared her throat and gave Winter a soft look. "Winter, c'mon… we can handle this. If this kid's even half as good as me, there won't be any trouble, right?"

Winter stared at Hourglass for a moment, then sighed and looked at Dawn. "Fine. Whatever. Thanks for the help, Dawn."

"You are quite welcome," Dawn said with a polite nod. She turned to Sunspire. "You have your assignment, Sunspire, and are to depart immediately."

Sunspire, who looked a little stunned after witnessing the argument, gave a tepid salute. "Yes, ma'am. I'll have to make a visit to the Overseer before departing, if I have your permission? I need him to make some adjustments to my goggles if I am to leave the tower for an extended period of time."

Dawn glanced sharply at Winter. "Assuming that is alright with Miss Glow, then you have my permission."

Winter gave the colt a brief look, then gestured towards the door as she got out of her seat; Hourglass followed suit, right behind Winter almost immediately. "Alright, come on, kid. We'd better get a move on if we're gonna get anythin' done before that big sandstorm hits. We'll see this 'Overseer' of yours, then make a stop at our place for supplies before we head out to the Gate District."

Sunspire nodded and followed after her and Hourglass out of Dawn's office. "Yes, ma'am, right behind you ma'am."

"And cut out that 'ma'am' sh— stuff," Winter hastily corrected.

She didn't have a problem swearing in front of Hourglass these days—the young mare was almost an adult, after all, even if she was young—but she didn't want to start swearing in front of a youthful stranger, not unless she knew what kind of language he was used to.

"Just 'Winter' will do. No 'ma'am', no 'Miss Glow', none of that; we're working together, kid, and I hate being formal at work."

"Yes ma— yes, Winter," he replied.

"So, Dawn says you've got some sort of ability to 'see' magic signatures or something?" she asked as they headed down the hall.

"That's correct. It's rather difficult to explain how it works without you being able to witness it for yourself, but…" He paused and tapped his chin. "Everything that uses magic leaves a sort of 'residue'. I have the ability to see that residue; the more powerful the magic, the brighter it is and the longer it lasts."

"Blimey, and your goggles let you do that or something?" Hourglass asked, gesturing at said goggles.

He shook his head. "No, the opposite. The goggles filter out the ability for me to perceive magic entirely. Without them, I can see magic all the time, and sometimes it's overwhelming to my senses and gives me headaches, especially if there's a powerful effect responsible."

"Hmm… alright, I'll buy it for now," Winter grunted. "I know Dawn's sisters have powers they shouldn't have as non-unicorns, so I can buy you, a unicorn, having some sort of strange powers like that too. And this Overseer of yours, he's going to fix your goggles or something? Are they broken?"

"No, I'm still just adjusting to the fit. I had a growth spurt early this year. The Overseer designed them so he can adjust them without damaging the technomagic mechanisms inside. I also should pick up an emergency communicator from him so that I can keep in touch with Miss Dawn."

She hummed and nodded; she'd never given it much thought, but the ponies here at the tower sure did have a lot more resources that she thought possible given the rest of the city's atmosphere. Developing technomagic for such a specific purpose would have likely been deemed a waste of time, money, and energy for the commercial or military sectors to even bother with.

"And Dawn was serious about your trainin'?" she asked. "Ya think ya can handle the Wastelands?"

"Yes, ma— Winter. I'm confident in my capabilities. It's my first time going out there in person, but I know the basics of making camp, hiking, long-distance travel, tying ropes, rationing supplies—"

"Okay, okay, good on ya, ya know your stuff," Winter interjected to avoid a long list. "And you've actually trained in all of this?"

"Mostly just practiced it on my own time, actually. I read all about it in a few books on the subject, since I felt what we'd learned in class wasn't sufficient enough for my tastes."

"Heh, learning about everything from a book, huh? Reminds me of—"

Winter paused, then closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The absolute last thing she needed right now was to keep going back to thoughts about Twilight. If this kid was going to talk and act like that for the whole trip, that might be harder than it had originally sounded.

"Of what?" Sunspire asked, drawing Winter out of her temporary freeze.

Hourglass interjected, "A geek. You sound like a geek."

"Oh," he murmured, red with embarrassment.

Nice save, Winter thought.

As the trio boarded the elevator, Winter couldn't help but feel as if she'd have been better off just taking Hourglass and sneaking out of the city in the first place.

*****

It took roughly four days for Winter, Hourglass, and Sunspire to reach the Goldridge Checkpoint from New Pandemonium's Gate District. This was roughly twelve or so hours longer than the average time that Winter was accustomed to making the journey in, but weather patterns in recent years—and especially the past few months—had been making things difficult for her and Hourglass for quite some time, so it wasn't totally unexpected.

Massive sandstorms were sometimes an issue, but rarely were they ever so harsh that the pair would have needed to completely adjust their route. The most they had to deal with on a frequent basis were the occasional small-scale dust storms, dust devils of varying sizes, and otherwise strong enough winds that they couldn't take shelter out in the open. Nopony knew why the weather had been worsening lately, and that was probably the worst part; it made it difficult to predict and difficult to defend against.

Still, Winter was glad to see that Sunspire was hardly the handicap she thought he would be initially. He proved himself just as capable as Dawn and himself had claimed him to be: he knew how to set up his own tent and tie it down to prevent it from blowing away; he could keep up with the more experienced ponies' pace and didn't lag or complain; he rationed his supplies well once he'd calculated the length of the journey and the amount of food and water were assigned to him.

He'd actually taken to it better than Hourglass initially had, something that caused the younger mare no small amount of annoyance.

The only complaint Winter had at all was that he was a precocious, curious youth who was probably a little too smart for his age and had the urge to learn more.

On their first day and night as a troupe, he'd bombarded Winter and Hourglass with questions about their careers. Winter had to carefully word her answers so as not to reveal the full nature of their work. Dawn knew well enough not to reveal the nature of alternate realities to just anypony, so she doubted Sunspire knew about it, but damn it all if he wasn't persistent.

"So what exactly is a Chronomancer?" he asked, not even close to out of breath as they hiked along. "I've heard Miss Dawn talk about you a little bit before, Winter, but I don't think she actually knows what it is you do. Apart from investigating these weird imbalances, that is."

"A Chronomancer's duty is to maintain and observe the balance in nature within the world's fundamental makeup," Winter explained as she took a sip of water from her canteen. "The world has a sort of 'heart', let's call it, and that heart is composed of two equal-yet-opposing forces: Law, and Chaos, or more commonly, Light and Darkness.

"When those forces are in perfectly equal harmony, then the world is in a balanced, secure state. When there's an imbalance, however, the world becomes opened up to an outside force called the Void. Void energy is highly destructive; if left unchecked, it can tear the entire world apart."

"So we go around and find where these imbalances have let in rifts of Void magic, and we bloody well close them," Hourglass finished with her nose in the air. "It's an important job, and somepony's got to do it, and that somepony's us."

Sunspire hummed and nodded. "So this 'Void' energy is so dangerous because it exists outside of the world's natural order?"

"Essentially, yeah."

"How are Chronomancers so certain of its effect? Has anypony witnessed its destructiveness?"

Winter saw Hourglass's face fall, because the subject was a hard one for her to talk about; Sunspire couldn't have known that and they couldn't tell him why, either:

Hourglass was a rarity within the Chronomancer collective, because she'd been old enough when her world was destroyed to remember it happening, to remember what made her world unique, to remember friends and family. Winter couldn't claim the same, for instance; the only memory she had of her old world was a fleeting image of what might have been her parents, but that was about it.

"Nopony's allowed it to get out of hoof enough to actually destroy our world, if that's not obvious enough," Winter answered carefully. "But the effects of it have been witnessed. Creatures and objects that are too close to a rift without proper protection simply vanish into the Void, gone forever."

It was the most tactful way Winter could explain it while still answering the question.

"Would you say the Void is considered a separate plane of existence, like the Dreaming is?" he asked next.

Winter shook her head. "Not exactly, but that would be one way of looking at it. Unlike the Dreaming, though, the Void is inherently destructive. The Dreaming, at least according to those who have given accounts of it to some degree, all agree that it's a peaceful place. It's where our souls supposedly go to rest when we die."

Sunspire nodded in understanding. "Fascinating stuff. And so your job is to go around, find these 'rifts', and close them up? How often do you have to do that? I thought our world was in perfect balance?"

"There are always minor fluctuations," Hourglass said. "They're small enough that a rift can still pop up, though they're usually not big enough to cause a world-ending rift. It'd take a huge fluctuation to cause that kind of impact."

"Which is what we're investigatin'," Winter added. "A surge of Darkness created enough of an imbalance that there's potentially world-endin' danger at hoof."

"Wow, so you're saying that this trip could potentially save the world?" Sunspire asked, his eyes wide with awe.

"I mean… yeah, if ya want to look at it that way?"

"Cooool." Sunspire grinned widely. "So how are we gonna actually save the world, huh? Is there like a technique for closing these rifts? Ooh, are gonna see a rift? I hope we do, all this talk about it being alien magic makes me wonder what it looks like."

He then paused. "N-not that I hope we see a world-ending anomaly or anything. Purely a scientific curiosity. Will it be dangerous? Do you have some method of preventing it from hurting us?"

Winter sighed and shook her head. "Crikey you've got a lot of questions, don't ya?"

The line of questioning continued for probably an hour or so as Winter kept her answers exactly as detailed as they needed to be in order to avoid the truth of the matter, and yet Sunspire never seemed to tire of asking for more details or going off on a tangent of excitability over some part of the discussion, which gradually turned into questions about where they were going and how they were getting there.

At the end of it all, Hourglass summed up the conversation… rather succinctly. "Oh my stars you are such a nerd," she groaned as he asked what had to be his hundredth question of the afternoon. "Do you ever bloody stop?"

He froze up, suddenly looking embarrassed. "Oh, s-sorry, I was just curious, is all."

"It's a good trait, kid," Winter said, looking back at the red-faced colt. "But ya gotta learn to tone it down a tad, eh? We've got no problem answerin' questions for ya, but we've got a long road ahead of us and ya could spread these questions out a tad, can't ya?"

"Yes, ma'am," he muttered meekly. "I mean, yes, Winter."

"Don't take it the wrong way, alright? We're just used to travelin' without too much talkin' between us. I get that you're a new addition to our little travelin' troupe and all, so it's fine, just… space it out. A few questions here, a few there, easy peasy." She chuckled. "It ain't like I've never dealt with somepony askin' twenty questions a second."

Her gut turned just a little bit as the recollection came back to her. It had taken some getting used to, but Twilight had been a literal question machine in the first few days after they'd met. They'd bickered and argued over facts that Twilight was certain about or that Winter had new or opposing knowledge on, and Twilight had just eaten it all up like she was starving for more. It had gone from irritating, to familiar, to endearing, to straight-up adorable, and stars above, it hurt just thinking about it again.

So she stuffed those thoughts down again, like she did every time, and returned to the present moment.

"So yeah, let's just be quiet for a little bit, eh? Try to save any more questions ya might still have when we take a break for dinner," she said. "And keep it to things ya think are actually important, not just idle curiosities."

He nodded in return. "Sure thing, Winter."

The second day, the questions returned, but now they were more practical than academic.

"Why are we traveling along this particular route?" he asked, noting how close they were to the steep cliffs of the nearby Goldridge Mountains. "I only ask because if the mountain range is our destination, why are we not scaling the cliffs?"

"To answer your first question, it's because the Gargantuans tend to stay away from the mountains," Winter replied. "They might not show up as much these days as they used to, but there's risky, and then there's stupid. I can handle a cluster of young Gargantuans myself or with Hourglass, but that's risky; with you along, it's stupid. They are absolutely faster than a colt your age, but neither of us are strong enough to carry ya and still move at top speed."

"I've never actually seen a Gargantuan before," he interjected. "Just the pictures in books. It's so weird to me how such a creature could evolve as quickly as it did. The Dark magics of the north must be stronger than most ponies think they are, aren't they?"

"Yeah, that's the long and short of it."

"I'd love to have a chance to see one up close. Just to study it, mind you. Seeing one face-to-face would be so much better than a picture in a book."

"Not many ponies want to see one of those nasty things in the flesh," Hourglass snorted. "They're the most dangerous things on the planet. The young ones alone could tear you to shreds." She shuddered with disgust. "Bloody things give me the creeps, too. Look like a spider shagged a mantis."

He tilted his head. "'Shagged'?"

"Never mind, just a bit of slang, eh?" Winter quickly replied. "To answer your second question, you can't just scale Goldridge. The mountains' outer layers are made of solid gold, yeah? Well, gold's extremely soft and malleable; rock climbing gear just doesn't work the same as you'd want it."

"Yeah, you'd pound your piton in there and it wouldn't get the same kind of grip you'd get from regular rock," Hourglass added. "Worse, if something happened and chunks fell off below you, gold's heavier than rock, so that plus gravity would beat you by a long shot." She held her hooves up to measure Sunspire's head. "Why, a gold rock just the size of your head would easily weigh more than you do."

"I was aware of all of these characteristics of gold," Sunspire huffed. "My question was intended to find out why nopony had bothered to invent a method for scaling the mountain without wings before."

"Oh," Winter said. "Well that's easy: nopony cares."

He blinked. "What?"

"Yeah, nopony cares to invent a method. I mean, why bother? The Checkpoint is typically only two, maybe three days at most from the northwesternmost tip of the mountain range, and you'd usually need to stop at the Checkpoint anyway for supplies." She shrugged. "If ya want to blame anypony, blame the folks who founded Hope's Point."

"What? Why?"

"Because their founders were mostly pegasi," said Hourglass. "So they can just, y'know, bloody well fly over the mountains. But there needed to be a checkpoint for resupplies and information-gathering, so they put it at the place they figured most earth ponies and unicorns would want to cross, and that's just the way things are."

Sunspire tapped his chin. "Hmm. I will need to inquire with Miss Havoc about this. She is most well-versed in Hope's Point's culture and history, even more so than Miss Dawn, so she might know how true that is."

The third day of the trip was thankfully a mostly quiet one. Sunspire's only questions pertained to the severity of the weather, which he was unaccustomed to, and Winter was able to easily answer with "nopony knows why" when asked what was causing the weather to be so unpredictable. It didn't exactly satisfy him, but when she told him that even Dawn couldn't answer it, he didn't ask further; it was clear he was trying to formulate his own theory on it anyway.

It was Hourglass that surprised Winter the most when she started asking him questions.

"So, you said that you read about all these survival tips and stuff in books, huh? You like to read, I take it?"

He smiled and nodded. "It's my favorite thing to do with my time, yeah. I make it a habit to finish at least one book every week. I could do more than that, but I have homework for my advanced classes and those assignments eat up a lot of time."

"You just read about whatever?"

"No, I like to read different things, but I try to keep it related to my interests or academic subjects. If I'm spending time on magical theory assignments, I sometimes like to start reading a book about famous unicorn mages, or the history of interesting and important magical formulas and spells, or I might even pick up a booklet filled with mathematical puzzles to wrack my brain with."

"Blimey, you're such a geek," Hourglass said, rolling her eyes. "You don't do anything but read and then you read books about bloody maths puzzles too?"

"There's nothing wrong with books about mathematical puzzles," he huffed. "It keeps my mind fresh and engaged. I'll have you know that I'm at the top of my class in every academic subject. And besides, I do have other interests apart from reading."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

He seemed to hesitate slightly, as if embarrassed. "I, er… I happen to enjoy professional wrestling, thank you very much."

Hourglass blinked, apparently taken aback by the answer. "Really? Professional wrestling?"

"It's a fascinating sport, you know? In case you were unaware, the matches are scripted," he said matter-of-factly. "Mostly, of course. There are slight exceptions where matches sometimes go off-script because of a mistake, which is called 'botching', and—"

Winter listened quietly as the colt went into a long lecture all about his love for the sport, from how the athletes worked in tandem to the personalities they crafted and the storylines they acted out. He knew a variety of terms utilized in the sport, statistics for his favorite wrestlers, the particulars required for performing certain moves, how the current atmosphere in the sport had changed compared to how it was five years ago, and more, and more, and more. He was an encyclopedia on the subject!

And, to Winter's amusement and approval, Hourglass paid rapt attention to the entire spiel, asking him questions here and there about things she didn't know about, which was pretty much everything since she'd never taken an interest in the sport before. Winter knew a part of it was just her trying to goad him into getting annoyed at all the questions but it had the opposite effect: he loved answering the questions.

All-in-all, though, Winter had to tune most of it out. The more she listened to the colt passionately talk about a subject he enjoyed—no matter how ironically non-academic it was—the more she was reminded of Twilight would go on and on about something she found fascinating, whether it was the magical theory on teleportation spells or about how her friend Rainbow had become addicted to a series of adventure books.

Just before dinnertime on the fourth day, the trio arrived in the vicinity of the Goldridge Checkpoint. Sunspire naturally asked about the vibrations in the ground, which Winter explained caused painful sensations in the Gargantuans and thus kept them away. Hourglass had helpfully answered a few questions about the building earlier in the trip, such as it being officially owned by Hope's Point, but that it wasn't officially operated by them these days.

Instead it was operated by Pewter, who always personally greeted guests when they arrived at his doorstep. "Well now, look who it is," said the large stallion with a big smile after he opened up the door to greet them. "Winter, Hourglass, how are you?"

"Bloody exhausted," Hourglass muttered as she shoved her way inside the building. "I need a bath. I've got sand in places I didn't bloody well know I had."

"Bad dust storm?" Pewter asked, turning to Winter as he let Hourglass by.

"Crikey, yeah," she replied. "Big one picked up about an hour or two before we hit the perimeter line. Stupid things are unpredictable as ever, and gettin' worse by the day."

"You hear about the big one coming in within the next couple of weeks? Supposed to be the worst storm yet. I thought I heard that they were completely locking down New Pandemonium? How'd you even get permission to leave?"

"I know some ponies, just leave it at that."

Pewter smirked. "Ooh, mysterious as usual, gotta love it." He glanced off to the side at the young colt waiting eagerly outside, and gave him a bigger smile than before. "And you brought a stranger with you! Hey there, friend, what's your name? I'm Pewter, by the way."

"I'm Sunspire, sir," the colt replied with a nod. "A pleasure to meet you."

"Well now, aren't you a polite one? You certainly didn't pick that up from Winter and Hourglass, I know that much," Pewter said with a wink to Winter. "Say, aren't you a little young to be traveling out here all alone? Did you come all the way from the city with Winter?"

"He did. He's helpin' Hourglass and me with a job," Winter answered. "Again, just leave it at that. It's complicated."

"It's not all that complicated," Sunspire started to say.

"It's complicated enough that we can talk about it another time, eh?" She gestured into the building. "Go on in, let's stop talkin' out here before another dust devil whips up. I'm sure you're hungry, and Pewter's the best cook on the whole northern continent, or I'll eat my hat."

"You flatter me, Winter," Pewter said, a hoof over his heart. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to butter me up for something. Whatever could it be?"

"You get a new shipment of ponimite from Hope's Point?" she asked with a grin. "Because I wouldn't say 'no' to takin' a few jars off your hooves for the road ahead."

He nodded. "As always, seeing as you're practically the only pony north of the Belt that enjoys the stuff. I'll throw a few jars in your resupply cache for tomorrow. You guys are just in time for dinner, and I was thinking… roasted potato stew, extra potatoes. I've been on a real tater kick all week."

"Heh, can't imagine your guests are happy about eatin' potatoes every day."

"Oh, no guests here except you guys tonight. Been slow since Her Majesty issued her own no-travel order. Her agents up north aren't letting anypony travel by land, even though I'm sure they could get past the city's official lockdown." He shook his head. "Been a mighty lonely few days, I tell you. Not even any visits from my favorite Fire Warrior."

Winter grunted, then nodded and headed inside. "That's just the way things go, I suppose. Don't be so glum about it, though. Maybe one day a beautiful mare will decide she wants to stay and keep you company forever. I mean, she'd have to be a little crazy to want to live out woop woop like this, but you seem like you'd like crazy."

He laughed. "Wishful thinking, Winter. Wishful thinking."

"Need any help with makin' dinner?"

"For such a small group, naw, I've got it handled," he said with a grin. "Appreciate the offer, though. You go get cleaned up. Dinner'll be ready in an hour."

*****

Once everypony had eaten their fill of dinner, the younger ponies headed upstairs to get some shuteye, leaving Winter and Pewter alone in the Checkpoint's living room on the ground floor. Winter busied herself with her fourth beer of the evening while Pewter enjoyed his third; the stuff was relatively light since Pewter didn't stock the stronger stuff that Winter preferred, if only because he felt it wasn't wise to be giving travelers hard liquor. She didn't like it, but he was right.

The warmth of the fireplace in the room was nice, lending a calm, pleasant atmosphere to everything. It was rare that Winter actually had the chance to relax, and she cherished the opportunities she had when they came. The Checkpoint was one of the only places where she felt at peace these days.

"Your new friend certainly does ask a lot of questions, doesn't he?" Pewter asked, breaking the silence at last.

Winter nodded. "Yeah, sorry about that."

He waved the thought off with his hoof. "Oh hey, no trouble at all. I love answering questions about the place. I mean, I've been operating it since before Dad passed, and I've made a few touches here and there myself. If anypony would like to talk about it, it'd be me."

"Still, there were a lot of questions bein' thrown at ya. We didn't get to chat about the goings-on around here like we usually do."

"He seems like a nice kid." Pewter took a drink and gave her a sidelong glance. "What's your assessment of him? I don't imagine it's easy looking after another kid that acts too old for their age, but you seemed a bit different around him than you were when Hourglass was that age."

Winter took another sip of beer. "He's alright, I guess."

"Come on now, don't avoid the question like that. Something about him is bugging you. I can tell."

"He… reminds me of somepony. A little too much, in fact. I'd rather not get too much into it."

"Hmm. Well, regardless of how much he might remind you of somepony else, no matter what the context of it is, it's not fair to him to avoid him because of it. They're different ponies, even if they have similarities."

"I haven't been avoiding him," Winter grunted.

He gestured at her with his beer. "Maybe not yet, but I can tell the difference between your typical 'don't get attached' attitude and this 'keep my distance' thing you're doing. I know it's not any of my business—"

"You're right, it isn't. So let's just drop it and move on to actual important topics, hmm?"

He paused a moment, then sipped his beer. "Sure, no problem."

She set down her empty beer and cracked open another one. "What's new out here in the bush, eh?"

Pewter considered that for a moment, then replied with a question: "Did you happen to see any Gargantuans on the way here at all?"

"Not a one. We stuck near the mountainside, practically shimmied along it the whole way here."

"I didn't necessarily mean that you dealt with any of them personally. I meant did you even see any? At all? Even from a distance?"

"Can't say that we did, but you know they've been showing up less and less all year." She raised an eyebrow, concerned about the direction this was going. "What're ya gettin' at?"

He shook his head. "I got a notification from Hope's Point a few days ago. Something big happened recently, and they wanted me to know about it. I'm supposed to hold any travelers here at the Checkpoint until further notice; luckily I didn't have any guests here when the order was issued, and hadn't for a few days before that, so I don't think anypony was affected."

"By what? What happened?"

"You know how the queens have been migrating about more frequently and farther away for the past year? And how we've been seeing them less, because they're spawning their clutches in different areas?"

She nodded; this was common knowledge at this point.

"Well, a few days ago, something happened. The reports couldn't explain it, but all of the broods Hope's Point has been monitoring just went… crazy. The entire eastern half of the Wastelands has turned into a killzone; Gargantuans are tearing each other apart over there in a frenzy that hasn't been seen since, well, ever."

"Shit. How bad is it?" she asked.

"Well, the report I got said that they only have eyes on two of the brood queens anymore: Capitula and Lichenys, and their broods have sort of assimilated the broods of the other queens," Pewter said, scratching his chin.

"'Assimilated'? How does that happen? What about the other queens?"

"Aculeata completely vanished off the radar months ago, and Setacea and Vertexine are dead. Setacea got ripped apart somewhere north of the breeding grounds, and Vertexine's remains are all over the Blood Mire barrier region. Thank the stars she didn't get in." He shuddered. "Can you imagine?"

"Zombie Gargantuans? No thank you, I'd rather not imagine that in the first place." Winter paused and blinked as the rest of his words registered. "Wait, one of them vanished? How does a Gargantuan queen—a creature bigger than some airships—just vanish?"

He shrugged. "That's what the report said. Anyway, I hope wherever your journey's taking you, it doesn't go into the eastern Wasteland. 'Cause if it does, I'm gonna tell you right now not to go, and I'll lock this place down to keep you here if I have to. I know you'd just break out anyway, but at least I'll feel better for trying."

"We're just heading into the Goldridge caverns, probably only looking at the Gryphon Ruins at most," she replied. She then paused, thinking over what he'd said again. Something had stuck out: "When did you say this bloodbath started?"

"A few days ago," he replied.

"Be more exact than that. Three days? Four?"

"Uh… let's see, I got the report… four days ago?"

Shit. "You're certain of that?"

"Positive. Why? Something important about the date?"

She sighed and downed the rest of her beer in one go. "Let's just say that my job's gotten a little weirder."

Author's Note:

Artwork for the new character, Hourglass:

Comments

[RoboRed]

Well, I guess we've got an answer now for what Dawn's been up to.

I see young Hourglass continues the tradition of Chronomancers being Britishishish. Or of the Commonwealth.

"Like this?" asked Hourglass

Punctuation missing here.

"We've got a problem. There's an imbalance in the world's Light/Darkness levels. I don't know what the hell that spike was, but it looks like it was the cause of it."

"Don't you mean 'Law/Chaos'?" Hourglass asked, sincere as ever.

Heh, callbacks.

She frowned as memories came flooding back, of happy times spent at the side of the best friend she'd ever had, the only pony she'd ever developed stars-be-damned feelings for, all knowing full well that the fate of two entire worlds depended on ensuring that they never saw each other again. She'd done a good job over the years avoiding reminiscing about Twilight Sparkle… but sometimes she couldn't help it.

Oof. Still feeling it years later. Badly, by evidence all over this chapter.

Hourglass stayed silent a moment, then turned her attention back to the elevator window. "Bloody hell, it's not any less weird today than it was when you first picked me up. I used to be older than you, but here you are now, nearly twice my age and still considering me the only friend you can talk to. Bonkers is what it is."

WIBBLY WOBBLY TIMEY WIMEY STUFF

"Heh, learning about everything from a book, huh? Reminds me of—"
"Of what?" Sunspire asked, drawing Winter out of her temporary freeze.
Hourglass interjected, "A geek. You sound like a geek."
"Oh," he murmured, red with embarrassment.
Nice save, Winter thought.

Ouch.

"Well, a few days ago, something happened. The reports couldn't explain it, but all of the broods Hope's Point has been monitoring just went… crazy. The entire eastern half of the Wastelands has turned into a killzone; Gargantuans are tearing each other apart over there in a frenzy that hasn't been seen since, well, ever."

Gotta wonder what the heck darkness spike that was to even cause Gargantuans to go nuts. That's spooky.