Starstruck

by Vest

Chapter 9: Ethereal Dance

Illustration by Bunnimation and Vest.
Special pre-reader thanks to Dracon Pyrothayan

___

_____

Pulled face first under, to crystalline trance.
Regains his thunder, a second chance.
Memory’s eyes foretell, hold guarded stance,
They rest a spell, in ethereal dance.

_____

___

Chapter 9

Ethereal Dance

What exactly transpired around him, he could not put a hoof on.

He’d traversed many an exotic locale with regiment in tow, braving the outlying lands that encompassed beyond the eyes of those civilized deep in the comforting hearth of Equestria’s borders. Yet with each memory of ducking low between the mountainous canyons of dragon nests, creeping quietly past the bogs of sleeping hydras, and suspiciously tranquil fields of bunnies and dandelions (none of which to be trusted), the memories carried with them the same luxury.

Company.

The shrill bristling of armor, the rhythmic cadence of hoofsteps, the low chatter of gruff voices whispering tales of their own forays; none of which were to be heard where the Captain stood in rigid stillness.

A monotone rumble swelled and carried past him in heaving breaths, faint trails of blue and purple light ebbing forth and dissipating with each passing roll of sound around his hooves, like the unending cavern of shimmering black was alive and purring softly in slumber.

And how it slumbered.

His ears tensed and twitched with each reverberating cascade of deep noise, a pressure embraced around every tendril of his black mane as if he was standing underwater.

When he first found himself falling inward to the mirrored surface, his last recalled thought was of shock, disbelief, a thought that rarely came to him upon looking in a mirror. Or, so he thought was himself. It was too late when he found that such was not the case, that it was not the adorned frame he inhabited in the reflection.

It was something else. Something different.

Something of, but not from himself.

Yet before any question could be asked, before any dodge, drop, or defense could be mustered, a sudden tug of a forehoof yanked him inward, bringing with it not a sharp sting of shattering glass but an unexpected splash of chilling metallic cold washing over him.

It had to have been a full minute before he dared open his eyes, probably two before he gave up on a desperate struggle to hold his breath. He exhaled, and feared the sensation of inhaling; he feared a soupy metallic gulp of liquid crystal would generously fill the vacuum in his throat. However, despite the heavy embrace of the chamber embracing tightly around him, his first tentative inhale didn't fill his nostrils with a sickening gush of metallic asphyxiation, but instead a frigid lick of reassurance. He winced, exhaled, then took another small sniff.

Exhale.

He dropped to the floor, gasping heavily to refill his lungs. Whatever, wherever he was, it certainly wasn’t to be his destined grounds to perish. Not here, not today, his story would go on. His story would get another chapter. She was to be his, after all; that’s how his greatest story begins, not ends. Destiny was proclaiming itself clear, the Princess was certainly going to become his. His story cannot end before it even begins in her deserved embrace.

Between strained heaves of the dense air, he looked down, seeing the telltale flicker of golden medals mirrored in the dark navy crystal floor. With his eyes floating in lazy orbits from disorientation, his focus pulled and blurred, the reflected silhouette of his head shifted into tight legibility beneath him. Another wisp of soft blue and purple swirled around him with the passing of another murmuring rumble cascading beneath him, the ghostly lights illuminating the mirrored image’s facial features in clarity.

It was smiling.

He hopped to his hooves, pulling his head as far away from the floor as possible, holding up a forehoof up to his shoulder to keep it safely nestled away. He blinked heavily, wiping his brow, and took his first glance at where he had fallen into. It wasn’t a blurred miasma of foggy black he expected, but a very clear crystalline plane at his feet that shimmered and glared with a ghostly ebony opalescence. The oily blues and purples wafted across its gnarled cracks, reaching deeper and deeper to an indecipherable black well of receding aether.

The alien and hostile lands that Equestria’s outskirts bountifully provided could not equate to what he had fallen into. Nothing like this.

He hazarded a single step forward.

It wasn’t the suddenness, it wasn’t the unexpected entry...

Jangle.

...It wasn’t the locale that furrowed his brow.

Jangle, the chamber responded in an echo.

It wasn’t the darkness that was off putting.

Jangle, it echoed again.

It wasn’t the thought of being trapped here.

Jangle...

It was his certainty that he was truly, sincerely alone.

Jangle, jangle...

And his certainty...

Jangle, jangle, jangle...

... That echoes aren’t supposed to get louder.

* * * * *

The charcoal unicorn’s eye’s shimmered like a school filly showing off her new ribbons. "Wow... " He squinted hard, hearing the high pitched squeal escape from him. “Err,” he gruffly cleared his throat, putting forth his most stallionly poise. “Impressive.”

Maybe his mom was right all along...

“You were more believable the first time,” Gina chided him.

... Maybe he was supposed to be a daughter.

As the door creaked open, Devon noted the amazing sight around him. Unlike the crystalline mazes and bare dirt floors of earlier, he set his hoof on elegant wood planks untouched by the dregs of time. It was a stark contrast to the twisted and eroded stone walls of all the previous caverns. There was something peculiar about the room, something that made it seem intricately preserved through time.

“This place is wonderful,” Gina rapped a fetlock along a wall mounted shelf. “Five bits says we collapse this roof, too.”

Devon rolled his eyes, keeping his attention focused upon the unexpected serenity and assuring sturdiness of the room. While mentally prepared for the worst, what lay before him were rows and rows of books, carefully arranged and shelved. But there were no shelves, every book was enchanted so it sat in air, perfectly in line with its neighbors. Without the walling effect of shelves, the party could see its full scope in a single panning motion of their heads.

Devon breathed in sharply through his nostrils, swinging a narrow-eyed glance to the orange unicorn. “Ten bits says we don’t.”

The room itself was well-furnished, far more accommodating than any of its predecessors. Dusty, but soft couches and chairs clutched in small groups all throughout the room, each one equipped with small tables and ancient oil lanterns, not having shed light in centuries. Central to all, though, was the elaborate table that sat dead center in the chamber. It was vast in size, but notably uncluttered. The only distinction it had apart from its size was a delicate-looking piece of wrought metal in the middle. Bent backwards slightly, it rested bare and empty. All around the table were piles of pony-sized cushions, clearly intended as seats.

Devon recognized the design immediately. "This is a library!" he exclaimed with a sudden brightening tone.

“By jove, you’re right,” Gina groused sarcastically, rattling a hooftip along a line of books. “The old Foalnecian architecture. The unique Romane features. The thousands upon thousands of books organized in neat alphabetical order in multiple rows of shelves.”

“Hey,” Devon sharpened his tone. “I was just noting the obvious out loud, I’m allowed to do that.” He kicked a forehoof against the furniture. “Wow, this couch looks comfy," he sarcastically continued noting the egregiously obvious. "It sure is bright in here. Wonderful weather it is today.” He swung a rear leg at one of the glassy bookshelves. “Amazing how clear this crystal case is-woah!” The leg passed right through the shelf, sweeping a trail of cloudy energy in a flickering wake around his hoof.

He stumbled, his back legs buckling and flinging him flank-first against the bookshelf. In a blink of speckled light, he collapsed out the opposite side of the shelf with a saddlebag's load of books falling to a rest at his side. The hole he punched through the rippling magic shelf glowed intensely around the edges, then slowly sealed back into its original form, all evidence of Devon’s clumsiness nowhere to be found...

“Hyah,” Gina chortled. “I’ll remember that forever.”

... Save for reliable testimony.

He stood up, brushing old manuscripts off his shoulders and face. The only difference between this place and the archives was the lack of physical shelves and Lily Boxtop. With confidence born of familiarity, Devon stepped towards the nearest set of floating books, throwing his gaze across the spines.

The first title set his heartbeat accelerating, the second's author drew a gasp of withheld amazement. By the time the charcoal unicorn had read a dozen names, he turned with a look of stunned amazement to Gina and Luna.

"These books are ancient!” Seizing a tome in newfound telekinesis, Devon impulsively yanked one book from its position and thrust it towards the two mares. “This is stuff that nopony has ever seen before! Look at this!" He held up the book, releasing it into Luna’s grip of cobalt telekinesis. "This is a work by Aristrotle! Nopony even thought anything he wrote survived!" He didn't wait for any reaction before continuing. "This kind of stuff is just... just... wow!" He dug his face back into the shelves, lost for greater eloquence.

"Yeah... " Gina pursed her lips. "They're sure books alright. Look Dev's can we talk abou-"

"Oh Devon!" Luna's voice drowned out Gina's sentence. "This is truly a marvelous discovery! I knew that this venture would yield further rewards for thee." The Princess trotted and pressed forward to examine the tome further. "Come! Time be of great value," she added brightly. "Thou must sit forthwith and enjoy it! T'would do me so well to see thee enjoying thyself after such a dreadful adventure!" Smiling insistently, Luna pressed forward, fussily pushing the unicorn towards the center of the room and one of the cushions. "I insist!"

"Erf! Woah!" Devon laughed, trying to keep his position. Luna's playful tugs overpowered him, and he found himself being led like a misbehaving colt and plopped down onto one of the cushions. "Careful! I mean, don't we need to..oof!"

"Don't be daft, dearest! We know thy love of these tomes. We couldn't bear to just breeze past these and leave wanting!"

“But... ” Devon couldn’t believe how well his focus was holding up amid the Princess’ demands for some book time. "But the contr-"

The Princess grinned excitedly, settling down beside him. “It can wait!”

Gina protested. “But the contr-”

"It can wait!” The Princess adjusted her forelegs beneath her collar, and draped a wing around the unicorn’s shoulders. “Now, dearest!" Luna insisted, pushing him down onto a cushion and tossling his mane with one of her forelegs. "Now, wouldest thou wish for me to join thee? Shall I find some more books for us to share?"

Every question hung heavy with a deep desire to please, a needy, pleading smile that the charcoal unicorn found himself unable to resist.

“I-”

"Now just sit thyself and I shall procure something for us to indulge in together!" Despite his murmured protests, Devon's body and still-aching head longed for the break and comfort, and if the Princess of the Night was offering, who was he to deny her?

Settling back into the cushion, he watched with admiration as Luna sped through the stacks, only pausing her perusal occasionally to throw a devoted look back to the unicorn. "Dost thou prefer romances or adventures, Devon?”

“I-”

“Nevermind! I shall bring thee both!" she called from a back corner. Her cobalt mane rounded into another floating set of tomes and Devon settled deeper into the cushion until another voice, very near broke into perception.

"Y'know it, Devon," Gina murmured, her frustration stifling the usual giggles and chortles she spoke with. "Y'know she isn't all there, don't you?"

"She... " Devon sighed with aggravation. "I told you, there's nothing wrong with her!"

"There's everything wrong with her! You have to have noticed it by now, she's doing everything you say!" Gina stamped loudly, the echo carrying effortlessly through the ghostly magic shelves. "I lived it, Dev's! She's doing it right now, if you asked her t'jump off a bridge, she'd do it without even blinking!"

"She has wings."

"She-" Oh. Right. "Listen, that's not-"

"Please Gina!" Devon scoffed. "Look, she said she is fine, she's fine." The unicorn chuckled dismissively, "I think if anypony here would notice something wrong with her, it'd be me right? Luna is still her own pony, and we're just taking a little break before we sort this whole mess out." Placing a forehoof against Gina's chest, Devon lowered his tone to a small growl. "I'm being patient as I can with you, but I'm not going to let your paranoid crazypants head ruin this. For everything I went through, I deserve some happiness, don't I?"

The orange unicorn exhaled heavily, seeing Luna’s cheery teal glance rounding the corner in brainless bobbling bliss. She rolled her eyes upward in a long aggravated arc. “Yes, Dev’s. You certainly do Listen, I’ll make you a deal.”

“We already had a deal, ten bits says you don’t blow this place apart.”

Not one atom shifted on her face. “I’ll make you another deal. You can have your happiness, yes. You can have your fun. But just for a little bit, we need to fix the Princess eventually, and it has to happen before you get complacent with what you have done here.”

The charcoal unicorn coughed. “What I’ve done?”

“Yes,” Gina continued, “but me? I’m just going to sit on the sidelines, and watch. I’m going to keep an eye on you two. So help me if I let this mistake happen again to somepony else.”

Devon shifted his glance to his forelegs, then back to Gina. “No mistakes are happening to me.”

“Not you!” Gina seethed, jetting a hoof at the Princess giddily settling down with a stack of collected books.

“Alright, forgive me,” Devon lowered his chin to scrunched shoulders, “I’m sorry she’s taking a liking to me, and as you know I have quite a liking for her, too.”

“Woah!” Gina’s eyes illuminated. “You do!?”

“Wait, you didn’t... I didn’t tell you that I... ”

Gina’s eyes narrows in agitation.

“... Sarcasm, right.”

* * * * *

The faster the Captain ran, the louder the jangling hoofsteps behind him augmented. He was no longer certain if the metallic rattling came from his own adornments or the ones gaining on his tail.

The thick layered air lapped and buffeted against his face with each bound, his legs straining to find the energy just to push through the soupy atmosphere. While he stumbled and punched heavily with each stride, the shadowy apparition encroaching behind him swam through the air almost weightlessly.

His eyes darted side to side, desperately scanning the unending black horizon for any sign of a way out. A swirling shift of low rumbles cascaded beneath his feet, kicking up licks of violet light that cast his shadow through the mist before him. The light yielded no signs of a door, not even a wall.

How large was this chamber anyway?

Another rumble rolled again underneath him, carrying with it another wave of purple and blue light from the shimmering ground beneath him. Waving shadows cast forth before him, and clearly to his side, the silhouette of another stallion galloping uncomfortably close.

He swung his head to the side, dipping his shoulders low. His forehooves slid across the polished ground, screeching an arced scuff in tow.

A gravely nicker followed closely behind, the telltale percussion of skittering hooves trying to maintain formation with the sprinting Captain. A meaty thump followed suit, and from Stormblade’s peripheral vision, saw four black flailing legs kicking wildly into the air. Whatever was tailing him had just slipped behind his sharp cornering, and thudded into a tumbling mass of flailing limbs.

He sneered, twisting and sliding across the floor to face his pursuer.

“This is my story,” he growled while running toward him, his forehooves cracking the crystalline floor with each thundering bound. “It doesn’t end with you!” He lowered his head, and peered with intense ferocity at the grounded figure.

The floor rumbled beneath him, vespers of twisting light emanated from the floor to clearly reveal his pursuer; a black-coated stallion desperately kicking to get back off the ground. It twisted a chiseled teal iris to Stormblade, two locks of orange hair adorning a jet black mane. Stormblade screeched on his charging hooves in a startled panic, losing his hoofing and flopping sideways against the chilled floor.

He slid, and with a limp form, slowly rested to a halt nose to nose with his own reflection.

After an uncomfortable second staring into the Captain’s condemning eyes, the reflection shifted his face to the side, pulling his nose away. “I, umm... ” The reflection murmured, then spoke through a tight smile. “I would hope your story doesn’t end with me. Kind of hard to end a story by your own hoof.”

Funny.

“Funny,” Stormblade remarked, rolling his eyes and dragging a fetlock under his side. “So I’m pretty certain I’ll regret asking this.”

“I’m you.”

Stormblade’s fetlock slid beneath his shoulder, his torso toppling back over. “Well, let me ask the question first so I can regret it, instead of... ” Instead of thinking his reflection was a smart alec? Instead of knowing the displeasure of meeting somepony to finish your sentences for you? Instead of letting somepony else hog the dialogue?

The reflection bowed his head, and gently closed his eyes. “Naturally, my fault, continue.” He smiled with utmost reverence and sincerity. “I’m sorry, Captain.”

Captain? Oh, how could he stay mad at a handsome face like that.

“Is this going to be a long-ish explanation?”

“Indeed,” the reflection extended a hoof to the downed Captain, only to have it swat away. “This might take a while.”

Apparently he found no difficulty being mad at a handsome face after all. “Great,” he groaned. The Captain reoriented himself, and exhaled deeply in a long huff. “You got a Crop’s Notes version?”

“Sir, I shall do my best to be brief, Captain.”

“Well then I... ” Wait what? “Wait, what?”

Huh, so apparently the dark brooding scary dimension of no foreseeable end at least yielded some pleasant neighbors. Sir? Captain? I shall do my best... to be brief? If all the denizens of this realm were as dapper and well-groomed as this fashionable chap, he might have just found a great place for that ungrateful Benebit Farmold to learn a thing or two from the locals.

“You mean Jetstream?”

If scrunchy-faces could be weaponized, Stormblade’s could obliterate farmhouses.

“Sorry, it’s just,” the reflection dragged a forehoof below him in tight circles. “Your thoughts are my thoughts, I am you after all, I’m kind of picking up on all the head noise you’re-”

Scrunch.

“... I apologize. Ask away about what exactly is this place you’ve been dragged into.”

Stormblade nodded, then jammed a hoof into his reflection’s shoulder. “What exactly is this place I’ve been dragged... ” His voice trailed off, the hoof sliding dejectedly off the reflection’s shoulder, falling limp to a clunk against the floor. Despite his airtight mannerisms, sincerest maintenance of reverent poise, and sweet heavens that conflagrant charm...

“You’re in the mirror.”

By the honor of Commander Hurricane, was that reflection getting irritating remarkably fast.

“You live here?”

The odd pony laughed, bobbing his head back and forth as he sauntered up to the Captain. “No, you do.”

Stormblade nudged the reflection back, and stepped away. “I... ” He began, cracking a hoof upwards to the abyssal horizon. “... Live outside. In the world!” He sunk his neck, turning his head and nodding his chin at the reflection. “You live in here.”

“Of course I do,” the reflection approached the Captain again, putting a foreleg around his shoulder. “I have to be here when you’re in here. I couldn’t be here without you here which is why I brought you in here so I could be in here too.”

“You... ” Stormblade groaned through grit teeth, waving a shushing fetlock to the reflection. He closed his eyes, letting his mind reset. That was a bit too much, too fast.

“Sorry, I’ll repeat that.”

“Woah, can you repeat tha-” the Captain’s voice seized in his throat, percolated for a second in a pitched whine, then sunk along with his patience and dropping eyelids. “Okay,” the Captain sighed, dragging a hoof down his face. “Back up.” He opened his eyes...

“Like this?!” The reflection called from a hundred haunches in the distance.

“Not literally!” He clenched his jaw, peering upward to the horizon. It was hopeless. He knew that if there was a way outside of this realm he had been pulled into by this foolish but phenomenally accurately handsome imposter, it was going to have to be through some other means. But he knew all too well, he was just wasting time with this bumbling black-coated lummox; he knew he’d have to find a way out on his own. He turned sharply in the opposite direction, “Pyoof!” smacking against a black jangling flank. “Aaack!” He hopped back.

“Find a way out, you thought?”

“Don’t do that!” Stormblade snorted, dropping his head and gritting his teeth beneath closed eyes. The ground peered back at him, but no light mirrored himself, just the emptiness above. Another passing roll of deep rumbling lingered beneath his hooves, wispy tendrils of violet and blue light kicked up.

He was in a mirror.

…

Wait.

He was in a mirror!

Stormblade winced heavily, realizing he was neglecting something extremely important. “Wha-he-hey wait!” He snapped his teeth together, furrowing his eyebrows, and shot an accusing hoof forward to where his reflection stood. “Why’d ya’ pull me into!-huh?” The black coated reflection had vanished.

“Why’d I what?” A gravely voice inquired from beneath Stormblade’s hooves.

A quarter-second later, Stormblade peered downward at the arc of his eight-foot leap of panic, beaming searing irritation to the elusive apparition.

“I know your questions,” the reflection buffed a hooftip against his chest, the medals on the red jacket jangling with each tight wave. “You just seem to get mad when I try to get to the point, so I’m waiting on you to ask why did I so eagerly drag you into this place.”

“Why did you so eagerly drag me into this-” Oh for the love of. “I mean, why did you... you so... why did you so eagerly... ” Odd. His mind couldn’t reorganize the words despite his billowing desire to not satiate the smug satisfaction of the coltish mirror psychologically antagonizing him. “So eagerly drag me into... this... ” Place. Place... How come he couldn't find another word!? He sighed.

“Would you like to finish?”

“No.”

The Captain grumped, shifting his face to the side. Another deep rumble rolled beneath his hooves, a bright cascade of light crackled around him. He stepped back from the circle of emanating violet luminance, the reflection quickly whirling and smooshing to a single tendril of warped black and red before snapping back to the chiseled stallion he projected.

“I would like you to get to the point.”

“My pleasure.” The black stallion slowly ducked his head, turning his back to the Captain. He waved a forehoof before him. “I am a reflection of you, and without you, I cannot exist. While the reflections that live in all mirrors are bound by those rules, they have not the life nor consciousness we were imbued with thousands of years ago.”

The reflection waved a hoof before him, and lifting it to the air, a flat pane of crystal elevated in front, angled to show Stormblade’s suddenly intrigued expression on it’s mirrored surface.

“You see, normal mirrors are just nothing more than a million specks of light bouncing off a solid surface, but we... ?” The reflection extended a forehoof over him, and the pane suddenly hoisted into the air. “We live. And when you step away... ”

He flung his hoof squarely on the ground, the mirror shattering flat with a piercing blast of noise. A phalanx of skittering crystal shards slid around the Captain, the flickering pieces clicking against his hooves.

“We cease.” The reflection stepped forward, lowering his head and sauntering slowly back to the Captain. “We fade away.”

“And... ?”

The reflection’s bottom lip sagged, his nostrils stretching low. “And we cease, we live no more!” He glanced downward, sweeping aside a couple shards of crystal. “So to survive, we cannot demand our host to remain standing before the mirror forever.” He looked directly into the Captain’s eyes. “We bring them into our world! To live among us! Forever and ever!”

“Ah.” Stormblade nodded. “Therein lies our impasse.” He strode up to the black-coated reflection, and tapped his nose. “You see, this ‘forever and ever’ thing,” he twisted his head back and forth in a mocking tone, “isn’t going to work for me.” He laughed, flipping his mane to the side, smiling, and cracking his neck. “And... after the daily head-kickin’s I spend the rest of my years administering to you, it’s probably not going to work to your favor either.”

“Hah,” the reflection scoffed. “You can’t frighten me! You’re in my world now!”

The cliched nature of words that just bounced off the Captain’s ears nearly caused him force himself awake, thinking he was in some fevered dream wrought by reading bad fanfiction over a large bowl of ice cream. His scowl drooped upon opening his eyes, only seeing the obsidian cavern looming around him. Yep. He really did just hear those words.

The reflection's claims seemed impossible, this couldn’t be his true reflection. The Captain assured himself was a far better writer than that.

“You do realize,” Stormblade growled, shaking a hoof threateningly before him, “I’ve got a wicked double hay-maker that can awaken your ancient ancestors, right?”

“The Buck-Tooth Be Gone, yes,” he nodded, similarly cracking his rear legs in quick tugs. “I know all of your moves. They are both ours... ”

To the reflection’s credit, he was certainly a worthy adversary should a fight arise. Oh, how the Captain would love to engage hoof and molar against somepony worth his energy. But to truly test if he was the real deal...

"...And?"

“Yes. Even the Spinning Quintuple Lightning Dervish.”

Oh, ho ho, yes. The real deal.

“Oh good,” the Captain eased his stance “Saves a demonstration.” Stormblade stepped closer to the reflection, gritting his teeth. “So, continuing with the ‘getting to the point’ part.”

The reflection’s face softened. “The point is,” his eyes widened over a growing smile. “None. What’s done is done.”

Ding. It’s punch-out time.

“While other reflections will come and go as their hosts pass us by... ”

Wait, waaait...

“... You and me? We need worry none of that!”

“Other... reflections... ?” Stormblade grimaced, planting a solid hoof against his own face. “There’s more of you?”

“Oh yes, but they’re... well, they’re also opposites of those they reflect When they get close to the mirror, they see who we are.” The reflection’s brow lifted, feeling a surge of words coalescing at the roots of his larynx. He couldn’t believe it! Social interaction! Honest to Ghasen socializing!

The Captain blinked. “Who... we are?”

“Oh I’m so excited! I get to tell you all this!” The reflection jangled excitedly, shaking his rump at the Captain.

“Eesh,” he obviously responded.

“I can’t believe I get to have a friend! Ha, ha!” He sang. “I have retrieved you, and will keep you for-e-ver!” He leapt onto the floor at the Captain’s fetlocks, flicking his tail against his temples. “Booty booty booty booty rockin’ ever-”

“Enough!” Stormblade kicked his flank aside, sending him stumbling forward. “What do you mean by ‘who we are’?”

“We’re the inner evils that remain deep down inside you, friend!” The reflection clapped his hooves together, bounding giddily in his steps. “We’re your bitterness, hee hee! We’re the deepest darkest most horrible doodads that your exterior tries to suppress and hide!” He shot his forelegs outward over his shoulders. “Isn’t that the greatest!?”

“I’m so confused,” Stormblade scratched his head. “If you’re the inner me that’s supposed to be hiding within, the one I keep locked away, then why are you so cheery and chipper and polite to me?”

“Well, that’s what the spell mandates,” the reflection hesitated, choosing his words carefully. Why was it that if he was the inner suppressed emotions of this pony, that he was the upbeat and optimistic one? “Guess we’re just supposed to be... ” The opposite of our host? The part of them they’re afraid to bring out? The paradoxically uplifting and encouraging traits this thuggish Captain snuffed out decades ago? “... Different,” the reflection attempted to lie, his mouth curling up and his wide eyes scanning the periphery around the Captain. “Heh, suppose little ol’ bad pony me is just a flaw in the spell.”

Duh. “Suppose you’re right.”

“Because, wheeew-ie,” he swung a foreleg around his chest, diverting the topic away from previous inflections. “Those other guys you want to know about, those other evil bad ponies, they are some tough, mean, evilest thorns a manticore ever stepped upon if I ever seen any.”

The Captain nodded, allowing him to proceed. He narrowed his eyes, taking a stand beside the quickly chatting projection.

“Why, one of them was this orange unicorn mare, could summon the very deadbolts of Tartarus right off the tip of her horn.” He jumped back, cracking a hoof on the floor and waving his head around menacingly. “And another, really tall regal thing, blue and really powerful but never really uses it, awful lot like that figurine in your jacket pocket.”

“It’s not a doll!” Stormblade hissed. “It’s a figur-... ” He paused, realizing that was the first time anypony had called his trinket a figurine. All his closest aides who had accidentally seen them called them dolls, and always said it with an excess of syllables to ensure a three-act symphony of snorts and giggles were wedged into the pronunciation.

Fillystines.

He blinked heavily again. “So wait, you saw... they were here!?”

“And this third one...” The reflection resumed, glossing over the question. “Not as dark-coated as you, more grayish, but all he did was stomp around and mope about whilst waxing poetic about separation anxiety, his family, and his childhood home, really messed up kid. He could barely breathe, barely talk, he complained incessantly about his chest hurting between coughing fits, kept telling the Princess ‘but that charcoal one kicked me’. You’d think he would’ve been taught how to buck up by his fath-”

“The Princess was... here!?” Stormblade tugged at the reflection’s collar. He fumbled about his jacket, tugging out the Luna figurine within. “This one! You saw her!?”

“Oh only for a spell,” the stallion turned his head away, glaring into the black distance. “She faded away just like the rest of ‘em. Says she almost got them, too. But just before you showed up.” He tapped his chin. “All I really remember was the tantrum she threw, and then all three of them fading away at once while clawing at the floor in the most cantankerous howls of despair I ever heard.”

Woah. “So they... ”

The reflection huffed, his voice becoming soft and airy. “She lost her’s.” He looked back at Stormblade. “They all lost their’s.”

“Their hosts... ” The Captain could only imagine.

“And all I got to see was what happened of them when they lost. Horrible way to go. Because without a host to feed their very existence in the mirror... they... ”

Stormblade inhaled deep, peering into the same distance as his own reflection standing before him. “...Cease.”

“Leaving nothing behind.”

Stormblade nodded.

“Except that little mopey one.” The reflection dug into his coat with a forehoof, pulling at a square bulked lodged tightly within. “Strangest thing, this book of his didn't disappear at all... ”

The Captain peered curiously at the cover image peeking from a receding jacket collar.

Hummingbird.

* * * * *

“What was on the cover?” Devon peered curiously at the book twirling before Luna’s face, her excited giggles unable to hold it still. He held up a hoof, clenching the book by the corner. “The Gait Gatsby?”

She settled it down before the two of them. “Perfect, this stand shall let us read togeth-”

Before the last word left Luna’s lip, the book snapped open of its own volition, pages flipping rapidly as a blazing light flared from the ancient paper, washing over the stunned pair. Both Devon and Luna shifted rapidly, convinced they were caught in yet another trap until the room bent and twisted.

“Easy, dearest,” Luna laughed, pressing down on the charcoal unicorn’s shoulder.

He wasn’t inclined to jump, startle, or run away from the book in the least. “Thanks, I'm glad you got my back.” But at least he appreciated her consideration.

"Mm-hmm!" She giggled under her breath, nostrils flaring in demure grace. Devon felt like a rabbit dove into the back of his legs the way his balance gave out from his knee. “I’ve hath witnessed upon such tomes before,” Luna continued explaining to him. “Yet they’re reserved for the highest of magic users and royal scholars.” She looked down to a pair of pleading orange irises, their quivering clearly emoting that he was neither royal nor... well, any tier of magic anything. She gripped his forehoof, lifting the gauntlet before him.

“Will it... ?”

“Perchance we can make exception of thee,” Luna nudged a fetlock against his cheek. “Should anypony inquire, we hath ensured the validity of yonder artifacts as genuine upon one such as... well...”

Devon’s eyes narrowed. “A commoner?”

“Oh forsooth, no, I was going to say-” The Princess pinched her words, then cast aside the conversation elsewhere with an anticipating laugh. She tugged him close, and gestured her other hoof towards the book. “Look upon here, dearest Devon!”

“Wreegiee-woo, looketh upon yonder here,” Gina huffed from around the corner, spewing out the imitation with labored sarcasm.

They paused, giving the interloping unicorn a cross look. Devon wiped a strand of mane off his face, and pressing his head into the Princess’ neck, motioned her back to the waiting book.

He wasn’t going to let the orange unicorn’s interruptions get into this moment. She said she would allow him this, and if she was going to be petulant about it, fine. As long as he got the moment she granted him. Heck, knowing it was bugging her so much, it made it even more worth it to Devon. His enjoyment was her dismay, finally things were starting to go right. Exactly how he wanted it to.

“Upon yonder stand,” Luna explained, “this book reacts immediately to magical touch.” She lightened her voice, speaking in a dulled whisper into his ear “Allow me.” She wrapped a forehoof around the gauntlet. “Easy now.”

He didn’t know if the warmth emanating up his shoulder was from the luminance prickling around the gauntlet, the soft light ascending from his foreleg, or the Princess’ gentle puffs of anxious breath rolling up his neck...

... Easy. Easy. Focus on the magic. Focus on the-

Before Devon’s eyes, colors warped into images, but it was more than a simple visual illusion. Joining the images came upbeat music and the sounds of drink glasses clinking in cheer. Joining the sounds came the smells of expensive pipe smoke and fresh floor polish. Joining the smells came the shaking bitter taste of a beverage Devon would normally enjoy dancing on his tongue and down his throat. All of the twisting sensory experiences were nothing, however, next to the warping going on in his mind as the book poured its images and plot into his mind.

No longer was he an idle spectator, but he was becoming a character! The unicorn’s thoughts twisted so he felt the urges and motivations of the character as keenly as his own. Yet he was still Devon Bookmark. His thoughts were clear, yet he felt perfectly at home in the growing scene around him.

* * * * *

“Mister Gatsby!”

“Huh?” Devon blinked, turning his gaze. He was no longer in the dank chamber, yet he knew this room. The party was his own. He invited strangers in the hopes of seeing her, a violation of his opulent privacy but well-worth the risk.

“Devon Gatsby, a pleasure, my name is... ”

The name didn’t matter, it was all just the usual banter and fluff that was part of his plan and scheme to reunite with her. Devon was now the title character, and he thrilled as his solaces from his youth took a form so real around him that he swore he could smell the very varnish that his staff had laid for this event. Even though consciously, he knew this must be a projection of the book, the effect was so pristine that the unicorn was compelled to play his part, to follow the story. He even felt his own thoughts merging with those of the character, both of them making an immense plan, taking risks all to grasp for...

Devon spotted her across the party, standing out like a cobalt beam in a sea of drab outfits.

... Her.

Luna chatted breezily with members of the party, her outfit a dazzling combination of allure and vitality. While some mares at this dance wrapped themselves in the stuffy clothes of the age, Luna and a few other bold souls bucked tradition and outfitted themselves in extravagantly modern clothes.

“Excuse me,” Devon said, brushing past another self-infatuated bigwig of high society as he wove between guests and staff. Intense, jazzed music rose from all corners as Devon felt the bold surge of his character replacing his own. Strengthening was his own assumption of this being a shared illusion, and if he was in a show, then by Celestia he is going to perform without regrets! Gatsby saw the mare of his dreams, coming back from a distant past to give him another chance. Devon saw the mare of his dreams, reaching out to him to offer a future that he could never make for himself.

About two-thirds the way through the party, her attention flicked to him. It was a look that was flighty and challenging. She turned, mingling her way away from Devon, leaving nothing other than a whisper of beguiling laughter.

Devon Gatsby faltered, but continued his pursuit. The voices and faces of the partygoers turned to nothing but a blue as he tailed after the provocative dress hanging off of a cobalt frame. Energetic music flowed like water around him, wrapping him up in a blanket of sound that urged him to chase her down. But every time he got within reach, Luna took another giggling sway to the left or right and disappeared. Finally, he turned a final corner in the endless series of twists and turns and found himself on a grand balcony, his balcony.

As he took in the panorama, a thought entered stealthily through Devon’s mind. This scene was not right. It never happened like this in the story. At this point, all that Gatsby should have seen was a whisper of the mare’s dress before losing her for the night. He emerged to his balcony to brood and bemoan the pain he went through for just this chance. But...

“Mister Devon Gastby... ” Luna turned, smiling. Behind her, the moon cast ten thousand glittering diamonds across the great lake his home was built overlooking. This was definitely not part of the story, Devon was certain. “Do not be alarmed,” she continued, as if sharing the same thought. “There’s no need to worry about those side roads, I believe that we’re the ones in command this time.”

“Wait, you mean... ”

Luna grinned through a showy, exuberant dancing sway. “This is our story, Devon, we’re writing it how we wish it to be.”

* * * * *

“Blech!” Gina’s voice rattled through the refractive aisles in disgust. She stuck out her tongue in an exasperated raspberry. “Just, yuck.”

His vision still blurry, the edges still glowing with the opalescent tendrils of moonlight from the book’s spell, Devon looked over to the indignant noise.

“I know it was big back in my day,” Gina groused heavily, waving a dark-covered paperback before her in protest. “But Fifty Shades of Neigh!? Classic for all the wrong reasons!”

The illusion shattered. In a weighted blink, Devon scrunched his brow to regain his focus. Upon opening his eyes, he hoped to find himself back on the balcony, back in their own story, back in the story he had absolute control over and could manipulate as he saw fit for them.

Instead, he returned to the real world, seeing the Princess gently swaying her head as she too emerged from the book’s magical immersion. Devon breathed in heavily, as if emerging from underwater, his mind still racing, trying to discern a grasp upon which reality was tangible and which was just a storybook fantasy.

“Dearest,” Luna slid a concerned glance to him. “Art thou well?”

“Oh wow... Luna, did you see all of that?!” Turning, he saw the cobalt mare with the same face of breathless exhilaration as he had. He peered down at the gauntlet, the embers of dissipating magic pulling and fading into thin disappearing threads. “That just happened, didn’t it?”

“Well, aye, I think it did, darling!” Luna said after a moment, and before he could speak it was as if she read his mind. “Shall we try another?”

“Er... nyyyope!” Gina barged her head in front of the couch. “I told ya,” she snickered, “I told ya both that ya could have one. Meaning one. Not two. This is no free sample time.”

Devon’s jaw hung low, waving a pleading gesture before him. “But-”

“Neh!”

“We-”

“NEH!” She stomped the ground, silencing him in a sharp bang of echoing protest. The orange mare cackled in a few involuntary laughs, “to think that I’m the one makin’ sure everypony’s responsible and in control!” Gina allowed herself a long moment to laugh before she took a breath and shook her mane. “Hooo... funny stuff, Dev’s, now c’mon, foals. Get your coats and scarves on, we got-”

“Well, that wasn’t too long,” Devon mused. “We could probably do another one... that was such a rush!” He turned to smile back at Luna, who nodded eagerly. “I didn’t know that kind of magic even existed let alone could be shared!” Turning back to Gina, he somewhat expected her understanding nod, but instead found a face on the very edge of fury, a rare show of restraint from the orange mare.

“We’ll b-”

“What part is hard to get!? The N? The E? Or the H?! NEH!” Gina took a breath, compelling her frustration down into rational calm, a foreign state. "Look Dev's, ya saved me, you deserve all of the good times in the world," Gina retorted with a snicker. "But this... this is just an illusion. Heck, it’s all just you making stuff up! It ain't gonna keep ya happy. You want the real thing don’tcha?”

“But... ” But it was real. She was right there. She was as real as the cobalt arm and wing she had draped over his shoulder, tugging him close against her. This was the most real anything he’d felt, not just with the Princess, but the most sincere closeness he’d experienced with anypony who’d give him directions to the Ponyville Tower.

“It’s difficult, I know,” Gina continued. “I’ve seen how hard it is for ponies to accept.”

Yeah, he knew.

“But, you’re a grown stallion now!” The orange unicorn’s tone harshened. “You can’t live in your own pretend-land any more!”

He knew.

“Get you head out of the little colt dreams of Princesses an-"

He knew he heard enough.

"And who are you to go on about my dreams?!” A charcoal forehoof swung at a nearby shelf, flinging a line of books to the floor. “You're only happy when you're making other ponies miserable!" Devon barked, heat in his face and voice. "I saw Ghasen's journal. I know what you’re about, and that you have a cob on your shoulder!”

“Hey!”

“Even before that contract thing,” he hoisted to his tiphooves, attempting to loom above her. “Even before!” He yelled to her neck, “it seemed like you just loved to make him upset! Just disagree with every little thing he did!”

“Dev’s!”

“Always standing in his way!”

“Dev’s!!”

“It's a wonder that he stayed, when you’re better off ignored!"

“... ”

The biting words reverberated and echoed through the room.

You’re better off ignored...

Devon’s ears twinged and retreated, hearing his own voice coming back to him. He lowered himself from his forehooves, turning his head to the side and barely opening an eye, expecting to see a deserved orange fetlock to smack him in the face.

"Dev's... " Gina flushed, the vigor dying instantly from her voice. "You don't even... you... "

The slap never came.

“... You’re better than this.”

But the sting did.

She finally hissed. "Enjoy your slave then, you stupid stubborn featherbrain!” Unfiltered venom fell from every word. “Wonder how long it'll be before you're making deals to sell out Equestria! To sell out Luna!" With a final huff, “To sell out your own momma!”

If there was any semblance of a counter-argument or plea residing anywhere within Devon’s mind...

“I thought you were better than this.”

... A smoldering crater took its place.

Gina whirled away from the central table. "If y'need me, I'll be tryin' to help the Princess and findin' a way out, like I shoulda been doing. Like you should be doing. I swear, you’re just..like... him!”

Him.

With what remnant shred of energy remained in his shoulders, Devon turned his head to watch Gina storming off, verbally disarmed and sputtering.

I’m nothing like him.

He flinched lightly when the cobalt foreleg slowly settled on his back. “Do not pay her any heed, dearest,” Luna’s voice pulled his attention away. “For I hath returned and we shall drink in these tomes together.” Her sudden falling weight puffed up the cushions around Devon as cobalt telekinesis floated a book against the metal stand on the table and the flare of light engulfed them again. “We can indulge as long as thy heart desires whilst poor Gina seethes. I hath chosen something special for us.”

He shifted his focus from the fuming mare storming down the aisle. A resonant voice of distant memory crept up to him, and on impulse, squeaked in foalish irresolution.

“Why am I so bad at this?”

“Say again?”

He swung his head low, coughed, and righted his eyes level to her’s. “Nothing, nothing.” Devon exhaled, trying to shake off Gina’s words. “Yeah,” he cleared his throat, attempting to mask any doubts in his voice. “Yeah,” he repeated, resting down beside the Princess.

Another book. That’ll help. That’ll clear his mind. It always did. Feeling her hoof wrap around him and grip him tight against her, he fidgeted to raise the gauntlet before them. The light danced and twirled in proximity of the book, and the telltale flickers of energy and warmth crept up his legs.

Devon closed his eyes, feeling Luna’s grasp on him tighten suddenly, pulling him close against her chest. His mind blinked, for ever just a millisecond, flashing a dark bedroom, his old bed, and an older mare holding him equally close and comforting him.

His mind called out.

Not to her.

Not to anypony in particular.

But in a quiet rippling prayer sent skyward, in a voice of... but not from himself.

Why am I so bad at this?

* * * * *

“Mister Bookmark?”

Devon snapped to attention, finding himself embraced in regal elegance.

Again, the voice called to him. “Mister Bookmark?” Her smile was utter, unspeakable radiance. The newest tome had shifted the perspective again, but now they were used to the mane-raising shifts in setting. Where before, they had rolled with the images, relying on their memories of the book to make sure that the plot played out as it should, now Devon and Luna recognized the magical playground they had found.

This was, without a doubt, the dance hall of Northanger Stable, Mane Austen’s posthumous tale of romance. Devon’s voracious appetite took it in years ago, though he always found the tale intensely dull. Unlike most stallions, he loved the romances, but as always the payoff in Austen’s work was far too small and slow in coming.

Likewise, Princess Luna found her memories of its study as part of some touted royal need to be more educated and literary than her subjects. To Luna, she always wished the heroine had gotten over the insistent bonds of social pressure and just made her own move.

Now both of them knew that they could make that story happen.

“Miss Luna.”

They both smiled, bypassing the chapter upon chapter of youthful uncertainty and the fluttery butterflies of budding romance. Why bother with the whole building when he prize was right there waiting to be taken?

“Shall we?”

Devon strode purposefully across the ballroom floor. Gasps of shock from the characters echoed all around him as they willfully broke the story and headed for their own destination. The other dancers parted like waves before the two as they stepped. They clicked hooves in the center of the room and waved for everypony’s attention. Even the orchestra fell silent, seemingly shocked that their background role in the story had been hijacked, and that it was the climax already.

“Rather uncouth,” the Princess remarked, glancing at the cavalcade of shocked expressions radiating around them. “Devon, dearest, thou art mindful we’re indulging unto the most utterly gaudy of self-indulgent fiction.”

“I know,” Devon joked. “That’s why I’m speeding it up.”

Not what she meant. “Perchance thou hear us in improper context,” Luna attempted. “I mean, we’re changing the story so much that it’s no longer the original, it’s an abridged sophomoric fantasy of-”

Devon extended a wry smile at her.

“... Ah.” Luna realized. “Thou hast... fun at expense of this story’s author.”

Music rose around them very slowly. The soft murmurs and ricocheting chatter melded together into a drone of conversation filling the dance hall. Tentatively, the notes picked up pace and sync, forming together into a perfect waltz.

The dancers all returned to the floor, filling the center of the room around the interloping manipulators of the story. Their bodies reared up and braced against one another, exceptionally intimate and close for pony dance. Closing his eyes, Devon felt Luna’s hoof trailing up the side of his neck until it rested snugly against his cheek, holding his face in a gentle, caring caress. Angling his foreleg, the unicorn caught Luna’s neck in an embrace, their bodies twining together in a blissful, musical grasp.

“So... shall we?” Devon repeated.

“Aye, we shall. I hath waited for this forever, my dear.”

“And I’ve waited even longer.” An odd feeling percolated in the back of his mind. It caught him off guard, but it was as alien as it was so natural feeling. “My moonflower.”

Devon had never been in a dance like this before, but Luna confidently positioned him until they rested in mutual support of one another. These dances were rare in modern Canterlot, with culture going towards dances that allowed expression as individuals; something like their dance was exactly where it had been relegated to, an object of a far older age, a dance that was more teamwork than personal expression. But to those who could share and support so deeply, the dance became so personal as to make the room, the other dances, anypony looking on and even the very music to become nothing.

Luna led the first steps, walking Devon at a slow pace to allow him to settle into the dance partly, but also seeing the distracted flush on his cheeks. “Tis no rush, dear,” she whispered, “thou may take as much time as thou need. For this is the first of many.” Cobalt forelegs graced up and down charcoal cheeks as a swirl of movement took Devon into the first spin. It was not fast or dramatic, but that first surge of movement set his heart beating like a marching band. With the increased pace of his heart, the unicorn’s breath accelerated until he nearly panted.

“Shh... ” Luna reassured him, another turn drawing Devon into something resembling an embrace. So close was Devon that he could no longer look into Luna’s face, just feel her muzzle rubbing over his face and soft air blowing across his ear. “Calm thyself, Devon, thou art losing the rhythm.”

“Doing my best, I just... ” he tried to explain through his delighted embarrassment. “Kinda new to these dances.” He stumbled slightly as Luna spun him again.

“Simple. Just count out the steps,” Luna giggled. “One-two-three, one-two-three... .” she whispered, moving her back legs in time with her count. Still finding him lagging behind, Luna smiled warmly and tightened her embrace. She lowered her voice to a soothing whisper. “Just listen, listen through me.” She hooked her neck around his head, pulling him close to her collar. “Count my heartbeat, Devon, follow that.”

Swallowing hard, Devon pressed forward. Ignoring his own heart’s wild cacophony, he focused on the steady, calming heartbeat from the Princess holding him. He could hear it. He could actually hear it. Through the music, the reverberation of conversation, and the rhythmic hoofsteps surrounding them, it was clear.

It was real.

“Ready?” The Princess subtly shifted to the side, ready to waltz in step with the rest. “Thou art able to hear it?”

He knew.

“Move with me now.”

He knew it was real.

After a moment, he began counting. “One-two-three... ”

And matching her steps.

* * * * *

He nodded his head to the side, flinging the errant strand of rainbow mane out of his eye. He rested a cyan forehoof against his brow, looking out into the star-speckled night sky.

Finally.

Jetstream exhaled as one final flap of wings carried him out of the cave’s mouth and back into the frosty night air.

Without the need to chase his superior officer and supervise every step the clumsy oaf made, the trip back seemed a lot calmer and slower, allowing him wide vistas of the carved chambers upon his ascent. While the cyan pegasus was never the strongest student of history, even he recognized the value. No way that that place should be so unknown. It was something that the unicorns in the archive would be most interested in.

A blast of drifting snow snapped his attention back to his immediate situation. Recovery teams, guards to make sure that the entrance was secure, more guards for the treasure vault, probably a few to keep Stormblade out of it to boot.

The cyan pegasus’ thoughts returned to his commanding officer still down in the labyrinth below. A nagging sense of guilt dug into him with each straining beat of his wings, the tension tearing him between his loyalty to his commander and his loyalty to his commands.

Infuriating as Detective Head Quartermaster Commodore Stormblade Storming Do was, the pegasus still wanted to ensure that his delusions did not cause serious harm. He did not want to see anypony hurt by Stormblade’s ambitions, including the very owner of those ambitions. With any luck, the dark-coated second captain would be so lost in his vain delusion of a “quest” that his absence would not be noted until Jetstream returned with help.

As he took wing on a casual arc towards the core of Canterlot, Jetstream paused to take in the starry night sky. At least he could allow a moment of reprieve. Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. They were out in immense number, moreso than he remembered. Must have been a naturally clear night, an exceptionally dark sky, or Celestia put forth some extra effort in place of her absent sister. But how they illuminated the steep mountainous decline between the cavern entrance and Canterlot’s walls, each star washing every twinkling patch of snow, every lick of frost, every glimmering icicle with enchanting pale blue light.

Yet, something was unusual about the panorama. While he was no astronomer, Jetstream could swear that the constellations were... different. It was imperceptible, but just a general feeling that he had never seen this particular starry night tapestry. Even though he had lived and worked under the stars all his life, he did not ever think of their shape, but it still was unusual. Discordant. Staring up at it longer and longer, Jetstream felt a slight tremble, a bad feeling.

“Wait a minute... ” he said aloud to nopony. Something else was wrong. Something more obvious than the unusual starscape. “I could have sworn it was supposed to be a snowstorm tonight... where are the weather crews?” Jetstream cut his flight to the side, casting his view towards the skyline and far distance. He expected to see panicked crews of pegasi hard at work to give Hearth’s Warming its usual fresh cloak of thick snow, but Canterlot’s skies were universally clear horizon to horizon.

He couldn’t recall the last time he could see both the dim glow of Ponyville and the distant flickering ember of Dodge Junction on the horizon.

Angling his wings, Private Jetstream rolled into a swoop across the scope of Canterlot’s statue garden and hedge maze. It was a patrol he had flown hundreds of times, each swoop and descent deeply embedded in his muscle memory.

Jetstream threw a proprietary gaze over the curling pathways and intertwined hedges knitting between their marbled adornments. He could hardly admit it to himself, let alone his fellow brothers in bridle, but the night patrol in the statue garden always raised the hairs of his mane in the wrongest kind of ways. He never understood why the cantankerous Second Captain enjoyed it so much, why Stormblade got such great enjoyment out of it.

Probably from the way his convoluted imagination would twist the landscape into his... eesh... little scenarios.

Dozens of soulless, empty-staring statues backdropped by the gloom of moonlight made the garden’s night rounds a popular posting for the greenest guards. Both Jetstream and Stormblade worked the route in their earliest days, back when they were hazed into thinking the place was haunted by their superiors...

Ah, fond memories.

Back when he could address him by name, address him without something something protocol...

... Address him as a friend.

Though when years dragged on and the Captain’s ambitions outpaced his own humble graciousness to just be a part of the elite guard, the pegasus always found himself covering for the burly earth pony. In fact, Jetstream knew the garden so well that he could tell all was normal with his eyes closed.

Well...

Everything except that glowing near the center...

Wait... glowing?

Folding his wings back, Jetstream dove, his slow swoop replaced by a precise dive that brought him straight to the odd light that hung near the center of the statue garden. Light bent around him at bizarre angles from an unknown source. He couldn’t put his hoof on it, but just being in this unusually lit garden felt wrong on some detached level. Much like the night sky, there were no direct signs that he could instantly point out as being malevolent, yet the air around him tingled with an atmosphere of rising potential.

Regaining his focus, Jetstream examined the ambience more closely, and identified a nearly invisible trail of light, revealed only by the tiny bits of dust and dirt kicked up by his movements. He followed the beam until it alighted on one of the statues. Now that he had a fixed thing to look over, Jetstream finally had a point of reference. The statue was lit, as if on display, yet instead of the harsh lanterns of magical lights used for the nobility’s garden parties, this illumination was cooler, more natural. If nothing else, it looked like it was lit by natural star and moonlight, yet much more intensely.

Turning his perception wider, Jetstream noticed that the next statue in the line was lit similarly to the one he was in front of. So was the next one... in fact, every statue in the central rotunda was lit. With a beat of his wings, Jetstream took to the air and found many dozens more statues wrapped in a glow that seemed to grow stronger with every passing second. He looked back to the first statue to check and, to his concern but not to his surprise, it was glowing stronger.

A small sound made the cyan pegasus swing his head back towards the more distant statues. A scrape of stone on stone.

Every statue was closer.

* * * * *

“Eh, closer.”

The Captain snorted, arching his eyebrows upward to try and sneak a better look at what was in the reflection’s hooves. “It’s... a key.”

“Nope!” The reflection chided him, “Further! Guess again!”

“Okay, you said if I could guess what was in your grasp,” Stormblade reached a hoof outward, trying to grab the tenacious stallion’s foreleg, “you’d tell me what I need to get out of here?”

“Yep, I will if you solve this riddle!” He sang. “Fiddle biddle rin-bin skiddle!”

“That doesn’t even... ” Help? Make sense? “It... ” Doesn’t make his face appear less punchable? “It’s a... ” Think metaphorically. Metaphorically. “You said, ‘What doth rattle in my grasp about? It’s the answer to let you out’.”

“Indeed I did!” The reflection jangled with excited hops. “What doth rattle in my grasp about? It’s the answer to let y-”

“It’s obvious!” Stormblade laughed, clicking a hooftip against his chin. “You’re holding... the answer!”

Oh how those stallion’s eyes sparkled and shone. “Brilliantly deducted, sir!” The reflection pulled his clenched hooves tight to his chest. “A most amicable answer indeed!”

Stormblade sighed in relief, the invisible boatload’s weight of stress off his shoulder. “Whew, about time-”

“But it’s still wrong.”

The invisible boatload’s weight analogy was, indeed, just an analogy. But the reflection wouldn’t have known any different the way the Captain shrieked and flopped onto the ground.

Stormblade fumbled his legs across the slippery obsidian floor, and lunged outwards at the apparition. He stretched outwards, clamoring tenaciously to pull those mischievous clenched hooves apart and solve this riddle the way he solved most of life’s gregarious obstacles.

Sheer brute force.

The reflection pulled away from the swinging ebony hoof, his jacket unbuttoning and draping loose in his quick motion. A purple flash of light poked out, and the tome flopped to the floor. The reflection gasped, and reached down with his forelegs to clench the book and pull it back up.

“Hey!” Stormblade protested in a fiery snarl, slamming a hoof to the solid ground. “There really was nothing in your hooves!”

“Oh yes, indeed sir, there, umm... there was, but you... ” He rolled the words around with his tongue, trying to pick out the right ones. “Correct!” The reflection jovially outstretched his arms. “Nothing! Nothing will get you out!” His excited proclamation deflated to a pitiful squeal when the Captain gave him a deathly squooshy face. “But you see, you didn’t guess that-”

“It was the first thing I said!” Super squooshy face.

“I... ” The reflection fumbled with the book, bobbling it in an attempt to grip it in his teeth. “Ff-Well err-yes it... ” The reflection coughed, trying to slide the book back into his jacket. “It’s no fun though when you get it right that fast, and you and I, if we’re to, eh-heh heh, heh-heh, spend time here we must... ” The book slipped, clomping on the floor. The reflection paused, staring for an unsettling second into the Captain’s menacing eyes. “... Hyeh heh heh! Yes, if we’re to be here we must make the most... the most fun of it we can!”

“You know what’s fun... to me?” Stormblade’s face contorted into wrinkles and angles prevalently unknown to his muscle memory.

“Umm... ” The reflection’s jaw dropped in his mouth, his pupils pinching inwards atop his dropping face. “Shadow puppets?”

“No.” The black stallion seethed, jetting a black forehoof into the reflection’s shoulder. “Guess... again.”

“Eh-heh heheh... ” The reflection stuttered, clenching his teeth and rubbing against his shoulder. “It’s not your turn for the guessing game, you’re not following the rules, sir.” He gripped the dropped tome.

“I. Want... ” He reared, swinging his legs in wild circles over the cowering reflection. “Out!” The reflection pulled his legs up to cover his face, sending the tome into an echoing flop. “I want out!”

A pulse of purple light shot from the book as the Captain’s hooves smashed into the ground around it, the shimmering black surface crackling and spitting sparkling ebony dust into the air.

Another reverberating wave of deep rumbling noise throbbed beneath the Captain’s hooves, sending several tendrils of wisping light upward. The zephyrs of luminance caught along the page’s corners, gripping them, turning the book over, and gracing the edges of the hummingbird emblem adorning the cover.

The pages shot open, most of them torn out, large sections of bare binding lining the gaps between errant parchment. Heavily sketched entries fluttered quickly before the Captain’s eyes, the shimmering purple magic sputtering and cascading around the rapidly passing pages embraced and illuminated the hastily sketched designs within. A single page caught his eye, large text glowing in blazing violet atop it.

THEY EXIST.

“Well,” the Captain chuckled in a low note. “What have you been keeping from me, here?” He lifted the book, nestling it against his chest.

The page turned, passing by even more fevered sketches of twisting lines, circles, spirals, and dots.

The reflection stepped toward him. “Now wait just a-” The book heaved in Stormblade’s arm, rifling to a single page and tearing it out instantly. “Aaagh!” The reflection hopped back. “It... it’s never done that before!”

The page hung before Stormblade’s muzzle, the only text his eyes could make out in its quick twirling was...

“Now it wants to write about ducks,” Stormblade read aloud, confused.

The page jumped, folded, crumpled, then popped instantly into an origami crane. The paper bird torpedoed at the reflection, and like a fiery purple comet, spun and dove repeatedly into his face.

“Wha-ow!” He nickered, waving an irritated forehoof at the attacking parchment. “My game was better-hey! Ow, ow!”

“Well,” Stormblade breathed easy for the first time since entering the black chamber. “Seems we finally have something willing to be of actual help to me.” He looked down at the book, the pages now pulling and waving frantically towards him, the purple magics flickering around the margins ebbing and pulsing with each spoken word. He jammed a hoof down on the pages, holding them tight against the binding. “Get to the point.”

The book rattled and thrust beneath the Captain’s hoof. Easing his weight, the pages slunk in a single disconnected flop, prying free of a single cluster or entries that dangled near the book’s end.

We are finished. All of us.

While Celestia has saved us from the eternal night the stars had summoned through the power of Luna, she’s on the warpath! My own family has been taken to justice, I know not of the fate of my beloved Gina or where she has disappeared to. It has been three days since I last saw her, since she took the Element of Magic from our construction site to try and stop Nightmare Moon. Her intentions were true, our plan was set in motion, we could fix this!

We were going to fix this!

The page peeled away, whipping to another entry right behind it.

I snuck a safeguard in the Princess’ contract. After seeing what happened with Gina, I took extra precautions to ensure that should the stars overstep their boundaries as they did before, I could undo it.

It was foalproof.

Like I had inadvertently done to Gina, I added an addendum to have her bound to me. The contract I penned bound her not just to me, but to my whole lineage. Should something happen to me, at least one of us could step in. We had the element of magic in our possession, it was the anchor, the bridge back to reality, the artifact that would save all of us, and Gina took it with her to try and stop the mad Princess.

She had been driven to madness by her own eternal lullaby!

But she would still be obedient to me, or at least, anypony of my blood. My sister. My aunt. My nephew. They could do it as well... except.

Celestia had to step in, and in her rush to benevolence and what she called “reluctance” just threw all those safeguards out of the way! She didn’t save her sister, she couldn’t! My family has been apprehended by Celestia’s closest guard, the whole archive has been torn apart and gutted, all that remains here in the deepest sanctum is my personal collection of literature and the hope that nopony is crazy enough to traverse the mirror gateway I have enhanced.

The treasure room, with the obvious answers of paintings of colts and foals, paper hearts, and hoofknit scarves and sweaters... it all has been replaced by the most gaudy of cheap artificial vanity I could shake out of the Toys and Sofas shop! The mirror prison is an inevitability for all who trespass now! Nopony would be able to find a gift worthy enough to grant them safe passage.

Nothing within would give them the sincere feeling of heartfelt gratitude; it’s all just trivial vanities now!

Stormblade’s eyes lightened, his arm still outstretched to hold the reflection by the forehead, his hooves swinging wildly before him. Finally, the book was starting to speak of his predicament.

“You... mustn’t... know... !” The reflection complained and whined. “You’re supposed... to be... my friend!”

The book lifted under its own power, shifting perpendicular to Stormblade’s face and flinging itself to a previous page.

When one pony offers a gift to another, the mirror reflects the true nature of the gift to the recipient. If the gift is truly heartfelt, and matches the honest desires of those receiving it, then the mirror will do them no harm.

“Aha!” Stormblade reeled, tapping a hoof against Ghasen’s journal. “So there is a way out of the mirror!”

The reflection lowered his head, and tackled against the burly Captain in a twin symphony of jangles. “My friend, don’t!”

“So you have been keeping this from me?” Stormblade adjusted his poise, forcing the reflection to flop below him. The Captain rested his shoulder against the downed stallion, keeping him pinned down while the book floated before him. “Why... it says that if I get a gift I really like, then I get out of here.”

The pinned stallion struggled, gnashing his teeth against the Captain. A clump of the Captain’s jacket wedged into his mouth, and he thrashed crazily against him.

“Why, I get it now,” Stormblade laughed, pulling his jacket from the reflection’s mouth.

“Ptoo!” He spat. “Give it!”

“Ohh,” the Captain leered to the grounded reflection with a thin smile. “But, this might be... hmm, it said something about, what was it... a Princess?”

A black hoof flung free from under the Captain, the back of a fetlock contacting hard against his chin. Stormblade twirled off the reflection, skittering across the opalescent black floor. The reflection jumped onto his gut in a quick dash for the book, knocking the wind out of the Captain.

Stormblade flopped to his side, reaching a hoof out to the reflection. He waved his foreleg in a tight circle, the motions causing the violet magic to swirl around the book. Stormblade coughed into a laugh, breathing in deep.

He couldn’t believe he was manipulating the book with... with the magic he always knew he had. It was actually working! The book was being obedient to his every whim and desire. And he desired for it to...

“Py-oww!” The reflection yelped, the thick cover smacking into his face.

... Well, not exactly that, but very satisfying. Do it again.

“Fpt-bt-Awww! Yeow!”

The book leapt from the reflection’s grip, making a sideways swing that clocked square into his brow. Two more pages tore from the book, folding themselves into the shapes of two hummingbirds. They illuminated in a hot violet glow, and surged toward the reflection, pecking and batting against him in rapid strikes.

Stormblade rolled to his forehooves. He understood. He knew what he needed. But he just wanted to make sure it was right there in front of him. He held out a forehoof, letting the floating book rest gently atop it, the pages rifling madly in anticipation of his question. “What makes you the best gift?”

The pages flopped heavily all to one side, leaving just a single entry with it.

Whomever reads this, you know what to do.

You will know who to find. Anybody of my family name, any of them. I cannot anymore, my fate will be with the rest of the architects, the rest of us, preserved by Celestia to spend the next one thousand years in stone so we may be judged dutifully upon Luna’s return.

All I can do is what I did with Gina when we imbued a piece of her essence into the lava guardian’s gauntlet. I’d rather it be a diamond embedded in a timber wolf so I may be quick, low profile, and as eternal as the forest. But my options are limited, and the hummingbird design on this cover is made of the finest tungsten an overbloated Canterlot budget can afford.

Just one more spell. One to imbue a nice piece of my soul into his journal, so I may know who may find it, and that I may assist them.

And just one more contract. One to preserve my body, similar to how Celestia would choose to, but down here beyond her meddling grasp.

Whomever reads this.

This journal shall tell you how, it shall tell you well. Find anypony of the Bookmark lineage.

Through the stars, they can control her destiny. They can save Luna.

* * * * *

Gina sighed. This puzzle was foal’s play, in fact part of its deception was that the books and the projecting stand were a defence meant to slow down intruders who were certain of their importance. It was all the concept of hiding in plain sight, after five chambers of hidden clues or wild danger, the only danger this room presented was distraction, the only puzzle was the simple star-shaped recess in the final door.

It struck her how easily some would ignore the most obvious of clues when they were so focused on evidence that did not exist. Ponies would charge ahead in ignorance, knowing their path was clearly dangerous, or safe and would never think of the pitfalls that were plain in front of their faces. In the past, even to her shackled and broken mind, the thought of intruders defeating every trap, only to be foiled by the obvious hole in the wall was very amusing. Now, with her mind free, it felt more tragic, though in her state, Gina laughed anyway.

But it was not the intruders she was laughing about. It was the pair lounging in the cushions behind her Devon and Luna blundered right into the trap, comfortably indulging in the illusions and stories. Further, Devon blindly ignored what was right in his face, stubbornly clinging to the illusion that Gina knew too well. How could he be so stupid? How could he ignore it? More to the point, why would he ignore it?

Gina hesitated, mulling the inevitable answer in her mind in long loops before she snickered once. “Because he’s an idiot in a crush. Stupid, sentimental, stupid...STUPID!” Gina roared out her displeasure, forced to watch another mare wrapped up in the same terrible curse, made even more bitter as the one shackling her was the one who was most instrumental in freeing her. Only when he saw the gains he could make did Devon falter, did his willpower finally surrender to temptation. To allow it to blind him to the obvious truth. Gina’s cheeks flared red as another book floated blissfully up into the stand and bathed Luna and Devon in its illusions.

As she turned back to the next lock in the puzzle door, an origami hummingbird surrounded in a nimbus of swirling light climbed up her shoulder and chirped.

“Hey Glyph... glad somepony here is actually paying attention to the important stuff here other than me,” Gina murmured bitterly.

Chrrrp.The sound was frustrated and Gina saw a flash of Glyph trying to enter the books on the table, to see what those two ponies were so interested in, but something blocked it.

“Wait, you’re serious? Wow. I guess it’s a private show. Too bad, I coulda used you to break that idiot out of there.”

Prrrm?

“Of course I mean Dev’s,” Gina laughed. “He’s the only idiot in here,can’t believe he’d be so stupid as to just ignore all the evidence right in front of his face. But he’s crushing so bad on that Princess.”

Prrr!

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you’re on his side!” Gina giggled and shook her head. “Sorry, little guy, but he’s just as lost in it as Ghasen was.” The orange mare was about to speak again before she was bombarded with images bursting from the swirl of light. Memories of her time before Ghasen’s foolish bargain with the stars. If only somepony then had given that idiot a good kick to the head.

Now Devon needed somepony to shake him hard.

Or, Gina’s eyes ran the stacks of books, if somepony couldn’t shake him out of it, maybe he could shake himself out of it. All that he needed was the right jolt. Throwing a glance towards the floating stacks, Gina sought just the jolt he needed.

“First... ” she murmured, turning her head to the stacks of books. Luna had depopulated many sections already of the sappiest and most painfully clingy titles, but Gina’s eyes looked for a classic. “He thinks Luna’s gonna do anything for him, idiot,” Gina muttered with a growl as she pulled a hefty book from a shelf bearing a sign of Plays and Performance Works. Taking a stroll through it with her eyes, Gina’s grin grew sharp when she found what she was looking for. Turning, she stepped back into the central rotunda and paused to look at the blissful picture of Devon and Luna, pressed tightly against one another as the illusions from the book washed over them. To anypony else, it would be the scene of the utmost tender affection and shared closeness, but Gina knew better.

With a single sweep of telekinesis, Gina obliterated the stack Luna had brought to be shared with Devon, sending them clattering to the floor with a tumult. Neither Devon nor Luna reacted, they were far too gone now.

“Figures,” Gina sighed and opened the tome to the right passage and gingerly floated the open book over the stand. “Well, time to take up, Dev’s,” she whispered, dropping the book down into place and forcing its images through the stand and into the audience on the couch. “And wake up the Princess, too.”

Hrnn-um-hrr hrrn? Glyph fluttered beside the orange unicorn, and extended the origami hummingbird’s wings. An old familiar scene from Gina’s foalhood sputtered to life in a blur, the sight of the night sky twinkling into existence over a setting sun coalesced before her.

“Not to worry,” Gina laughed at the concerned glowing hummingbird. “Luna’s going to be fine. Celestia will take care of tonight’s sky, I reckon.”

Mrrm-hrrn-rn-hrr?

The orange unicorn gave Glyph a reassuring nod. “Indeed, Celestia’s amazing with her night skies.”

* * * * *

“Indeed, Luna’s amazing with her night skies.” Celestia smiled softly as she peered out the hallway window.

She emerged at last from the tangle of ministers. At long last, the final paper had been signed and the most fiddly fine point addressed. It had taken hours of delicate wordplay to appease most of her staff, but it was done at last. With the council chamber still a disaster area, they all had to crowd into a stuffy meeting room and the Princess was happier than ever to simply get out of there and take in a full measure of fresh air.

Even more heartening was the sight she saw outside the palace window. Night had come just as scheduled.

That’s one worry off of my mind.

Another passing smile. Luna always had a grasp for the larger scope of things. She was still able to keep her fiery determination and focus on the core of her duties, even in the face of the quagmire of politics and doubletalk. Celestia always admired Luna for her clarity of purpose and unwavering dedication to the larger picture. Even this crisis would pass, most ponies, even in Canterlot would not even be aware of the Discord statute or the flying train car, but everypony would notice when the sun and moon failed to report for their shifts properly. Even considering the danger of whoever was moving the statue, failure of the sun and moon would be the bigger panic, and both of them knew it.

Thank you, Luna.

“Princess?” the demure cough of a purple unicorn drew Celestia’s gaze back behind her. “I’m terribly sorry, your Highness, but you were so busy that we did not know what to do with your dinner.”

“Dinner?” It was later than she thought. “Oh that’s no matter, thank you, Twilight Sparkle. I’ll be fine, you don’t need to worry” Twilight seemed to brighten at having a chance to help the Princess and scurried from the room before any other words could be spoken.

“Oh! Oh! Can I get you something? I’ll get you something, don’t worry I’ll be right back!” Celestia knew that she’d make a small production of it, but that was simply the way of things, she knew better than to try to stop Twilight. In fact, doing so would make it worse, besides, it didn’t matter. There was enough panic over grave matters to go around, maybe some panic over the minor would be good for everypony.

Settling against one of the windows, she looked out over her sister’s work on the night sky. Everypony in Equestria was familiar with the brilliant night skies, but Celestia knew them best of all, seeing every sky raised up and drawn through by her sister in strict adherence to the elaborate star charts that served as Luna’s compass to weaving the night sky. “Hm... ” Celestia murmured, “that one is out of place.” She spotted a star that was ever so slightly misaligned, its light altered by a nearly imperceptible degree. To the average pony, it would surely go unnoticed, but to the builder of the night sky, it was an pretty sloppy bit of work. “Luna must be more worried than I thought. I’m glad to see she got the night sky handled, still.”

“Princess Celestia?” Twilight again. “I... I’m not interrupting anything am I?”

“No, of course not,” Celestia’s welcoming tone came on like a light. “Please come in. I’m actually glad to have somepony to talk to who isn’t shoving paper in front of me.”

“Oh not at all, Celestia,” the mare laughed nervously. “The kitchen staff all went home, so we just kinda whipped up what we could find.” With a small, proud flourish, the mare revealed a dessert tray that spoke clearly of design by a committee, an arguing committee, an arguing committee with loud voices in favor of cupcakes and apples. Cake mixed with pastry mixed with cupcake and an apple accompaniment. “Not quite a full meal, Princess, but with the hour, it was... ”

“It’s perfect, exactly what I had in mind.” This was not a casual dismissal. “Would you like to join me?”

“Of course, is everything alright?” The poor unicorn was in a fluster. Knowing that if she were to let the unicorn speak on she’d be lost in a harried panic, Celestia gingerly draped a wing over the stammering unicorn and drew her to her side.

“I know you’re scared, but please, Twilight. There’s nothing to worry about tonight. This whole mess at the palace today has been more than enough for me. A little snack, and I think bed is exactly what I’m needing.” Celestia let out a small puff of breath, doing her best to ignore her own station and crown to calm the serving mare. “It has been a long day for everypony.”

“I... ” the mare was slowly settling, and finally smiled nervously. “I suppose so, your Highness. I kinda got lost in all the tussle trying to help, especially when Princess Luna took off as well! I’m glad that you still could handle the night for her.”

Celestia stopped a piece of cake halfway to her mouth.

“Where did Princess Luna get off to anyway, Celestia?”

“Oh, Twilight, I’m glad you’re looking out for my dear sister.” She took a nibble, diverting her attention back to the window. “She’s... ” Celestia hesitated, “fine. Probably busy, too. Wherever she is, she still took the time to bring out the beautiful stars.” She rested an assuring hoof on the purple unicorn’s shoulder. “It’s just how she’s always been, nothing different.”

* * * * *

This was different. Very different.

All of Luna’s selections up to this point had been warm settings, tales of love and coming together. But the place he was in now was nothing like the lavish ballrooms, sunset-bleached beaches or mystic glens. With every illusory breath, Devon tasted musty, dank air and drew in earthy, cold scents. Beneath him, the surface felt more like stone than soft beds. Perhaps most telling of all was that Devon felt the force of the story compelling his eyes closed.

Voices carried down from an unseen distance and after a moment, he picked out Luna’s voice, harried and desperate.

“Go! Get thee hence! For I will not away!”

Where did Devon remember those lines from?

The charcoal unicorn tried to move, but his limbs were heavy and distant, perfectly fine as far as he could tell, yet far away and sluggish. Near his foreleg, he felt something round, rolling away as he sluggishly wove his hoof in its direction before clattering down onto what Devon surmised was the floor. Rapid hoofsteps came in response to the clatter of object on cold stone. Even though he could not see her, he could tell from the tone of breath that it was Luna rushing into the room, but coming to a sharp halt. Any doubts were eliminated to her identity when Luna let out a sob of unspeakable pain at what she saw.

This scene seemed so familiar...

Luna’s weeping came to a small pause as she found the object that Devon had nudged. He could hear her murmuring as clear as day.

“What’s here? A cup, closed in my true love’s hoof?”

Devon’s mind exploded in recognition and terror. They had torn through every classic adulation to love in the library, yet the classic tragedy had slipped in. Palamino and Juliet. The finale was underway right now! Why was Luna so consumed by this role when she was so happy to play outside the rules before?!

“Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end:
O churl! Drunk all, and left no friendly drop
To help me after?”

Seemingly unconscious from his own sleeping draught to feign his death in the story, Devon could not break this illusion as easily. His mind flailed and struggled as Luna loomed over him. She had to have some plan! This was getting scary and out of control.

“I will kiss thy lips;
Haply some poison yet doth hang on to them,
To make die with a restorative.”

Before another thought could fire through his mind, Devon felt Luna’s forelegs seize his neck and head, lifting him up in a cradling embrace. Still sobbing, she did not hesitate for a moment, pulling the unicorn into a kiss that both exhilarated and mortified Devon. Princess Luna was NOT deviating from the story! She truly could not live with him, even in an illusion. As it dawned on him, Devon finally felt it was too much; his affection was for a life with her, never a tragic or dramatic end. Summoning all his will, Devon forced his eyes open, only to find Luna laying him back on the slab of the dank tomb.

“Thy lips are warm.”

Luna, don’t do this. This isn’t what I want. Please.

Devon forced against the influence of the story, but could only helplessly watch as Luna lit her horn, lifting a elaborate noble’s dagger from near where Devon lay.

Don’t! Luna! We can make a better story than this!

“This is thy sheath... ”

Devon struggled, freeing himself to sit. “Luna!”

“There rust, and let me die!”

* * * * *

Devon gasped sharply, the shock of the event sending him reeling off of his cushion and to the stone floor. The jolt from the final images of Luna raising the dagger to herself ended just before it sunk home, casting him back into reality and to the magic library. Still at the table, Luna broke from the spell, aghast at the sudden change in the charcoal unicorn. "Devon!" the Princess called, rising to her hooves in a clatter to rush to his assistance. "Dearest Devon, what happened?! Art thou well?" Before he could respond, Luna had fallen to his side, wrapping him protectively in her forelegs. Her presence relaxed him ever so slightly, though the shock of Luna so happily throwing her life away still sung an unsettling note. Even though they had been so happily rewriting great literature to suit their getaway, just the notion was enough for Luna to stick to the script to the terminal conclusion.

"Luna!" Devon heaved, face strained from exhaustion. "Why... why did you do that?! We could have just made our own story! You didn't need to stick with that kind of ending!" His tone was more terrified than accusatory, confused and trying to piece together what seized Luna that she'd have chosen that kind of finale. Despite it being no more than an illusory performance, to Devon it was as real as it could have possibly been.

"I could not carry on without thee, Devon, thou must surely know that," Luna explained with frank earnestness. "If I lost thee, I would hath nothing to live for."

Devon did not look into her face as she spoke.

"I owe my life to thee! I owe everything to thee, Devon Bookmark."

Devon winced, aching to ignore the gnawing fear in his gut as Luna squeezed down in an embrace that would carry such weight were it between any other ponies. His heart urged him to wrap his forelegs around her and draw her against his chest. To look her in the eyes and say...something. Anything to reassure her, and shed his own fear.

"You heard her," Gina's voice broke in with a solemn strength. "She owes you her life, Dev's." Gina did not smile, fighting down her own maddened laughter in light of the situation. "Shouldn't you say something about that to her? Maybe something about the ending"

No Gina, don't make me...

"Devon?" Luna asked softly.

"Just look up at her, Dev's. She made a big promise to you. It's the right thing to do."

No, don't make me. I don't want to see it!

"Devon, dearest, look at me! I need to hear thy voice again."

"Do it, Dev's. You need to see it."

Just let me have it a little bit longer...

The charcoal unicorn clutched his eyes closed and slowly lifted his head to Luna. That hint of doubt that followed him swelled and grew from a lingering uncertainty to inevitable dread. His heart struggled to grasp at any ember of hope that he might have held onto, but they offered scant confidence. Gingerly, Devon opened his eyes. He didn't know what he would find, but he knew it would not be what he wanted to see.

He was right. Luna's face was nothing like the regal image of confidence, wisdom and strength that he had drawn his own resolve from before. While all of the features remained the same, her eyes were different. Gone was the sparkle of vigor and will that defined her strength and vitality of spirit. Gone was the fire that a ruler needed to hold her own against the dangers and temptations of her position. Even the flickering sparkle of kindness that was needed to tend to the dreams of thousands with wisdom and care had faded entirely. All of it had been replaced by a deep, unsettling look of need. It was the look of a lost foal, willing to take any advice or guidance, terrified of life beyond the guide's sight and approval. If he looked deep enough, Devon saw Luna beneath that layer of dependency. Despite the smile and warm embrace, she was aware of what was happening, but enslaved to others' whims and powerless.

"Oh..." Devon stammered, tearing his eyes away from Luna back to the ground. "What did I do to you?!" Planting his rear hooves, the charcoal unicorn scooted backwards until he was stopped by a wall of levitating books, vainly attempting to escape Luna’s gaze, both needing his approval and condemning him. “No no...” Devon felt guilt twisting inside as each moment up to that point suddenly and irrevocably tainted. How much of it had been a growing lie? How could he have willfully ignored the growing affection? It made no sense, but he wanted it to be so, so he ignored his concern.

“I’m sorry Luna,” Devon croaked, tears of shame welling in his eyes and the monstrousness of the whole adventure reared its head before him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry...” he whimpered. Before him, agonizing in its own way, Luna smiled, even though now that he knew how to look closely, he saw the pain in Luna’s eyes.

“Tis...” she began, speaking slowly, but disjointedly as her mind and mouth worked out feelings that were from her, but not of her. “Tis nothing to worry about, darling. Thou hast simply overreacted, I could...” Luna choked slightly, as if her willpower flared up for a desperate struggle. “I...could not...be...happier.”

“No! No you could be, Luna!” Devon pleaded, trying his best to salvage something of this. To bring back her dismissive glare, her fire or simply to get her to glare disdainfully. “I...” All of his fear was now a sickening knot of guilt. “If I was paying attention, I would have noticed you...if I wasn’t so stupidly selfish...if I wasn’t so...so stupid I could have...”

“Dev’s!” Gina barked, shaking him momentarily. “Get a hold of yourself!”

Panic mixed in with the seething guilt. “How? How?! I just...ruined the Princess! I just ruined everything!” Pressing back tighter against the invisible bookshelf, the unicorn’s chest heaved in erratic breaths. “I...I can’t...I didn’t...” he stammered. Everything he had worked this hard to nurture had collapsed before his eyes, and his failure stared back in his face.

“Dev’s. Breathe.” Gina’s command drew his focus. “Breathe. Just. Breathe.” Slowly, by degrees, Devon began breathing again, though he still sputtered and gasped over guilty tears. “Yeah, not gonna lie to ya,” she huffed in fiery honesty, “you’re in it deep. You’re doin’ exactly what Ghasen did t’me. Exactly. He saw what happened, freaked out for a bit and...” Gina’s voice rose in passion and ire as her memories pieced together a clear path. “Then just got lazy...started thinking that he’d be fine if he just ignored it.”

Devon sniffed deeply, looking back helplessly to Gina. “Yeah...” he signed. “Yeah, you’re right. I got lazy, I didn’t think, I just thought if she looked happy then it was all good...you’re right, Gina. I’m just as bad as Ghas-”

Devon’s words snapped to an abrupt halt as Gina’s hoof snapped across his cheek and rattled his mind.

“Dev’s, you’re great, but shut up.” Gina paused to laugh, though her scowl remained firm on her face. “Ya are just like him except...Ghasen never broke one. He never went through with any of it. He’d chicken out the first time the stars or whatever talked back to him. But you just kept on pushin’ and you broke me out of it.”

“But I...” Devon tried and was silenced by another slap.

“But nothin! You had the stick-to-itiveness to fix me, and now you’re quitting on Luna? Maybe you really want her like this?” She narrowed her eyes. “Are you that much of a hypocrite, Dev’s? Are ya that sick?”

“No! Of course not!”

“Good! Then what in the hay is holding you back now?” Gina grinned.

“Well...um...” Devon stammered. “I just...”

“Y’just have the skill to do it, experience with it and all the tools y’need. And I just opened up the door for ya. Time for ya to make that bloodline of yours get t’work.”

Devon planted his forelegs, puffing a few times as he finally wrenched control of his breathing back. He risked a glance back at Luna, and found the same needy look masking the immense sadness. A single tear rolled down her cheek, and she smiled on. Urging the orange unicorn away, Devon strode back towards Luna.

“Luna,” he said, peering past the mask of forced devotion, trying his best to speak to the imprisoned mare. “Luna, I don’t know how much of this you’re hearing, but I’m going to fix this.” He sniffed once, feeling his own tears returning. Always got emotional. “I promise that I’m not going to stop until you get it out of that. We’re going to...” another long sniffle. “We’re going to walk to the ends of this maze and find your contract and I’m going to rip it up and set you free, you hear me?”

“Devon, darling...” Luna replied. “Thou..art crying. Please be not sad on my account.” The Princess of the Night smiled warmly at him, the kind of smile that minutes ago would reduce the charcoal bookkeeper to a flopped-over pile of melted happiness. Despite it, she was crying too. “I...oh dear,” she stammered, trying a laugh to restore his spirit. “Thou’rt getting me to do it, my love!”

“She’s never gonna stop that, Dev’s,” Gina said directly. “Luna’s stuck having to do exactly what you want. But it’s more than that.” The orange mare hastened her pace, but kept talking. “Everything you say or think is the only thing that she’ll need to do. She’s got all her wits, all her mind, she is just forced into it.”

“Right...” Devon sighed, stepping away. “We’re almost done. Let’s get moving.” HIs words felt sour. We are almost done. Once you’re free, if you’re free, you’re free to hate me for this. I’d hate myself for making a slave like this.

“Dev’s,” Gina joined Devon at his side, murmuring into his ear as the party set off again. “Might not help ya out now, but...Luna is there. She’s hearin’ and seein’ everything that is going on here. She heard ya there.

“Are you sure, Gina?” Devon wavered, turning to look back at Luna, still smiling with tears drying on her cheeks. Everything about it stood as a monument to Devon’s folly.A mindless, enamored pursuit that left him with the prize safely in hoof, yet a prize that was tainted. “I didn’t mean to do any of this, I just...” he spoke again, starting to lose control before Gina pressed a hoof to his shoulder. “I hope you’re right,” he sniffled.

“Have I ever been wrong, Dev’s?”

Devon finally smiled a little bit through his aching guilt. “Do you really want me to answer that?” Looking forward, he saw Gina grin and let out a small giggle, a rare one not tinged with hints of madness and lost control, but heartfelt. Lighting her horn, Gina pushed the doors open. Devon squinted into the darkness and turned to Gina.

* * * * *

“Not that look, oh no no no,” the reflection shook his head, flipping his forehoof in gesture between Stormblade and the journal. “Don’t you give it that look.”

“Look?” The Captain flinched sharply, sending a ring of jangles with his wide stride backward. “What look!?” He motioned his forelegs towards the journal levitating in its own violet aura. “Oh, right, you mean this?” A gleaming smile slapped across his face. “This look!? The one of ‘oh why thank you so much for showing me my path to winning Princess Luna’s heart!?’ This one?” He tilted his head back. “Hah, yeah. Check it.”

“No don’t.”

“I said check it!”

The reflection grunted, his eyelids sinking low.

“All my life,” Stormblade sauntered towards the black-coated apparition. “I’ve always wondered what I was doing wrong.” He peered upwards, shaking the thoughts between his ears. “I always thought I wasn’t trying hard enough.” Black hooves thud heavily on the floor in his determined pace. “I always thought that maybe I was just being too nice of a guy.”

“Well,” the reflection’s voice cracked, stuttering heavily. “You, sir, y-y-you sure are one...eh-heh hyeh-heh, you sure are one heck of a hard...try-er of things!” The slid inwards, hoping to hook a hoof around the journal. “Hardest tryer I ever done met, my friend!” His fetlocks shook timidly as they crept into Stormblade’s proximity. “And wow oh my wordiness, niceness doesn’t even start.”

Through a deep gravely chuckle. “Hah, I know, right?” Stormblade quickly reached out, snatching the journal away from the reflection’s approaching grasp. “Yet it just turned out, I just wasn’t creative enough!” He shot a forehoof appreciatively towards the slowly retreating stallion. “But you, my best friend...”

The reflection stopped, glancing his eyes in each direction before squeaking out the words. “Best?...Friend?”

“Oh, hah hah, yes,” the Captain clenched the book close to him. “Only a friend as true and sincere as yourself...” The journal pulsed to life, a fiery violet plume of energy wafted upwards. “Would truly know that which-”

“Wait, I take it back, sir,” the reflection quickly pelted out the words. “I’m, I’m, I, I am not your friend, oh hoh no sir! I was just,” he tried, “AHA! I was just trying to, trick you, yes! I tricked you you fell for the bait!” He whirled his forehooves over his head, but suddenly stopped. A single droplet of obsidian peeled from his hooftip, splashing against the reflection’s quivering cheek.

“Well then,” Stormblade hummed joyfully. “You got me!” He hung the book to the side, waving it dramatically. “You done caught me in your oh so nefarious snare of sugary kindness!”

“I-!” The reflection coughed and spat, more dark reflective droplets misted from his jaw, landing onto the floor with sudden pulses of blue and violet light. A roll of deep rumbles passed beneath them again, this time louder than any previous. “I always thought that you were just a big pudgy budgy, eh-heh heh, that. that,” the words flowed out in the most adorable barrage of natural spontaneity, “smells like a rotten apple core that’s been wrapped in moldy hay and dripped in dragon perspira-”

“Oh don’t be so modest,” The Captain reassured him. “This journal you got is beautiful!” He clenched the tome close to his chest, pressing it tight to his medals in muffled jangles. With a foreleg dangling off the top of the floating tome, he looked towards it with a nod. A crack of light peeled into view behind the Captain, and Stormblade turned with an excited grin back to the reflection. “We all think so.”

The reflection jumped towards him, but his back legs faded transparent. The apparition’s rear hooves pulled and narrowed in a liquid black miasma. The floor illuminated brightly, the dull rumbles beneath it augmenting to a chaotic roar. The reflection fell forward against his chest, his forehooves splashing against the ground into black obsidian blotches. He slid to the side, on his descent kicking his legs towards the Captain and sputtering.

“It wasn’t a gift!” The reflection flung his head to the side, sliding tendrils of black sludge drooping down his neck, the medals jangling to dulled shrills of metal submerging to the gelatinous mass. A limp viscous foreleg shot out. ‘I wouldn’t give you anything you bumbling-” the voice descended into a bubbly gurgle.

Stormblade stepped back from the melting reflection, then held a fetlock against his forehead, waving it outwards in farewell. “I agree, my truest friend,” the Captain guffawed warmly, playing his fullest to the mirror trap’s physics. “It’s not a gift at all. You have instead given me...” He turned, peering intently with arched brows to the slowly expanding crack of white light emanating before him. “...My destiny.”

An incoherent vociferation of jumbled pleas echoed forth from the thrashing mass of opalescent ebony behind him.

“Oh believe me,” Stormblade cooed, turning a narrow eye over his shoulder. “You have done all a true friend can do. I have nothing to give in return, but as your friend, all I can ask is you need not spoil me further, you are free...”

The reflection's liquefying remnants halted in flabbergasted shock.

“...To cease.”

A high pitched whinny echoed behind the Captain in a shrill note before being immediately silenced in a blinding thump of light. Thousands of thick bands of purple and blue light rocketed from the floor. From where the reflection melded into the floor, a thick beam of luminescence punched through the ground beneath the Captain’s hooves, careening straight into the base of the shred of white light. Like a curtain, the white light flung open, casting a fiery orange glow over the Captain.

The droning rumbles receded from the floor, a sudden quiet enveloped the room.

The Captain looked forward to the newly opened portal, then timidly snuck a concerned glance at the floating tome hovering nonchalantly beside him. Smoke, flames, collapsed masonry, and the overlapping tendrils of what appeared to be a collapsed column of intertwined bridges greeted him with an unwelcoming breath of musty heat.

Fidgeting with his jacket, he sighed heavily, pulling the Luna figurine out of his pocket. The doll’s waving cobalt hair gently pulled forward, reaching towards the marigold inferno before him, tugging itself into a single grasping cone beckoning him to follow its direction.

“My kind of peril.” Stormblade laughed, charging voraciously. “This is just the beginning of our story, Luna!”

* * * * *

“This is it, Dev’s. One more hill fer ya, and then it’ll be fixed. Come on.” Lighting her horn, Gina strode purposefully into the murk with Devon in tow. A few paces behind followed Princess Luna, looking completely normal save for the almost imperceptible shudder to her steps and movements. Before them stretched the innermost chamber of the entire labyrinthian archive, the core where the most valuable treasures rested.

“Huh...it’s...light,” Devon observed. He had grown so accustomed to the murky darkness of the caves or, at best, the uncomfortably dim light from horns, that the fact he could take the room in its entirety in a single sweep of his head was striking. Pale light filtered in from a ceiling that stretched to the very limit of his sight, illuminating a massive hollow chamber which stretched in all directions, rounding out in a circular room that was at least twenty lengths across. Vertically, Devon could not tell where it ended.

“Tis from the stars,” Luna said, her tone without inflection or character. She turned to the unicorn and smiled, sensing his confusion with a discomforting perfection. “It is pulled in from mirrors and small tunnels, darling. Gesturing upward, the Princess indicated one of the small channels that collected and bent light from above.

“But why...?”

“Ghasen,” Gina hissed, the very name like a bitter taste through her mouth. “This was the room he had built once everypony was in his pocket and under contract. Was suppos’d to be something like his big planning room,” she carried on. “I might have been his little toy, but I heard all of his talk about how this is where the stars would work. Wager he needed starlight to make it happen.”

“Hold it...” Devon interrupted. Something wasn’t adding up in his head. “If this place was supposed to be for the stars, why is it underground?” Turning his head he looked to Gina and found a blank look of puzzlement. He tried Luna, and found the same helpless devotuion from before. “Nevermind.”

Unlike the rough-hewn caves of the previous chambers, the sanctum was heavily-engineered, its walls all carved stone and crystal. As his eyes adjusted to the light, Devon saw that the walls were covered in murals and symbols that matched the journal he had abandoned. Astrological charts were turned from overly detailed drawings into art that turned the entire room into a tapestry of astral wonder. As his eyes traveled up and up, the charcoal unicorn spotted a narrow focus of light, one of many leaking light down towards the center of the room.

As he stepped deeper into the room and the light washed down onto his body, Devon felt a mild tingle ripple over the back of his neck. It was more than just a shiver, and he came up short. He breathed out, looking back up at the light sources. “Did anypony else feel that? Are you sure we should be doing this?”

“Relax Dev’s,” Gina said reassuringly. “We’re past all the traps. Only thing in here is a rat.” The sound of a hoof tapping on stone drew the charcoal unicorn’s attention towards the center of the room. Gina jabbed at a large structure with one hoof in vindictive spite. What her hoof fell on was the statue of a unicorn stallion poised contemplatively next to what appeared to be a closed flower. “Hah, all yer plans ain’t worth much are they now?” Gina asked the stone. “Where’s all your knowin’ it all?”

As he approached it, the statue’s features came into focus for Devon. The quality of the sculpture work was exceptional. Details down to the small wrinkles of time in the unicorn’s face were preserved in perfect detail. Its expression was stern, contemplative. What struck him was how singularly natural the statue appeared. Even his limited knowledge of art told Devon that he should expect small marks, angles that do not exist naturally or other signs of artifice on a statue pony, but this one was utterly perfect and yet despite this perfection, the subject seemed plain, unremarkable. Gina’s attention was fully on it, its very existence seemed to agitate her.

Where the statue was unremarkable, the flower was an explosion of intense craftwork. Deep petals formed a deep bowl, radiating in a near star-shape, but to a scale far beyond any normal flower. Slowly, for the unusual light and lack of contrast in stone impeded him, Devon realized that it was a lifelike, though outsized carving of a moonflower. To carve this piece must have taken years, decades even, with almost all of the loving attention going towards the petals, which were woven and layered with the utmost care. Even in larger than life size, the whole appeared as delicate and perfect as the tiny plant.

However, as his attention withdrew to the wider view, Devon felt an unsettling sense of displacement, an unnerving vertigo that spun around the very edges of his perception. It was the same feeling he had Gina’s contract was found, but multiplied. Instead of small pressures and unnerving notes, it was a full chorus of disorderly sensations, all emanating from the flower carving. Stepping closer, Devon lit his horn, focusing the light across one of the petals. After a moment of stillness, the unicorn recoiled from the flower, the light from the room and his horn still showing the contractual words etched and stamped into every one of the petals. Overcoming the shock, Devon looked again, and felt his jaw lowering. “Gina! Gina, come look at this...” he murmured. “Gina! Stop slapping the statue and come here!”

“What is it, Dev’s?” Gina groaned, walking to look over his shoulder. “I got a LOT of backlogged beatings for him and you are kinda eating into that time.”

“This isn’t just Luna’s contract, Gina...” Devon ran his gauntleted hoof over the petals of the stone flower, feeling the trembling resonance of each one through the riled emotions contained within the brass mechanisms over his foreleg. “These are all of Ghasen’s contracts!” When Devon closed his eyes, he could feel their emotions through his gauntlet with almost perfect clarity.

The starlight flowed more strongly into the chamber from above, completely engulfing the room in its cool embrace.

“Er...Dev’s...” Gina’s tone changed instantly.

“What is it, Gina?”

“Where’d the statue go?”

Comments

[Vest]

And wow, we finally get this monster out of the way. First off...SPOILERS:

This is a chapter I was both looking forward to and lamenting at the same time. I knew it was going to be an extremely hard chapter to do, and ended up cutting out a good amount of content in the hopes of keeping things coherent.

First off, just some little subtleties that I hope some of you picked up on. Devon's behavior towards Gina in the middle, and the way he casts her off, could be seen as being from nowhere, or showing the prospect of the stars bringing him what he wants as something that taints his perceptions and better judgment. Perhaps a little bit. I like to think that a bit of his past still remains with him.

We don't talk about it much, and the only clear reference to his past is made while he's in the metal box in the 'Confined' chapter. But Devon comes from a broken family. Again, not addressed much, and in fact, any wavering mention of his dad is either extremely subtle or cut off in the narrative. It does play a huge role in what defines Devon as a character, but it's one of those things I want people to see and understand without the connection being jammed in their faces. I would rather the readers see his actions, and always have that little bit of speculation that his motives are driven by his past home life, yet also have that little bit of doubt as I abstain from confirming such.

Well, except here. But you already read the chapter, I'm assuming.

The bits with Stormblade and his reflection originally weren't in this chapter; they were going to be handled in the next one. But the next one is going to have lots of action and such, so having him faffing about a mirror world just didn't seem to match what we had planned, and would throw off the chapter's coherency.

The reflection himself wasn't a character in the original outline. He was added shortly after the segments were started. I originally wanted Stormblade to run into the injured reflection of Devon (remember when Devon kicked his reflection into the mirror, taking the journal in with him last chapter?). But it didn't make chronological sense. That would mean Stormblade was right on his tail the whole time. Thus, I gave Stormblade's reflection the starring role, allowing me to emphasize that deep down inside he's a really really nice guy, but that his rugged gruff and now power-lusty exterior keeps it well suppressed. With most, it's the other way around, but with Stormblade, the mirror trap's design backfired.

Sure, his reflection still tried to keep him in the mirror, but...well, it was just adorably pathetic.

Also, for those of you keeping score, this book just broke its fatality virginity. Hey, you guys wanted to see something horrible happen to Captain jingle jangle, there you go. I know, I totally murdered the wrong Stormblade, but at least you've got some sort of a visual you can run in your head for a start.

Oh man, and the shippiness in this chapter.

Blech.

Just...

Blech...

I expect a dozen comments from people groaning about how painful and fake it seemed. To them, I will preemptively explain: Yes.

[Bookmaster]

Well, screw sleep. The romance.... Yes a meh, I knew it was faked from when she started to call him dearest. Poor Luna, she's forced to do anything Devon wishes. Other than that, this is still top notch. So thanks vest for making a wonderful story that I can enjoy.

[Alondro]

*Alondro is displeased* The stars actions do not reflect goodness. They do not even reflect neutrality. Even the crafty wish-granting of the Djinn had the potential to reward the wisher if the wish was thought out properly. The stars twist all to their whims, they hijack everything for their purposes... they are altogether evil. I do not like evil. I destroy it.

*he drops the broken corpse of Grogar which he'd dragged from a certain Tumblr (in which the nasty goat demon was spouting some diatribe about 'history being written by the winners') and beaten to an oozing pulp, and points up to the stars with one finger* You're next...

(Nobody god-modes like the Deux Ex Insert.)

[Rust]

i.imgur.com/ACC23Ff.gif?1
MFW everything starts coming together.

NAO, ZEN. VEE 'AHVE MUCH VORK TO DO! LET UZ BEGIN!

Gina. Gina, Gina, Gina... Gina. Oh, Gina. How I've come to love you so very much! You really take a turn here and show your true colors. The story's primary source of off-the-wall violence and Joker-esque insanity, now the voice of reason!? When the crazy one is slapping ponies around, telling them to get a hold of themselves, you know things have gone off the deep end. You're determined to stop history from repeating itself, aren't you? Good onya, girl. Good onya.

Speaking of history repeating itself... it would seem that certain players are re-entering the game. And their reserve seems to be... rock solid. Ha! Oh, that was terrible. I'll show myself out.

Now... Devon, in this chapter, struck my heart more than at any other time, even the metal box scene. He's so desperate for a happy ending, for something to go his way for once, just once, that he tries to imprint other ones upon himself. By abandoning reality, his life, and even the real Luna, he truly sinks to his lowest point so far. This is Devon finally able to get his heart's desire, and wanting it so very badly that he almost jeopardizes everything. If Gina hadn't been there to snap him out of it, I think this would have been the end. Maybe its because sometimes, I too put myself into the pages and wish I could live the story contained within, that I really sympathize with the kid. If a book like those presented itself to me, I'm not sure I could resist the temptation to make that story my own. It's so very, very easy to want what you've never had...

I can't believe I'm saying this, but maybe... just maybe, I'm experiencing a sort of... pity... for good 'ole Jingle-Jangle and his former accomplice, the Rainbow Dash look-alike. Poor Jangle is so wrapped up in his desperate dream to be great that he forgets where true heroism and bravery come from; action in the name of others, not of the self. We see here that he really is a good guy deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, freakin' abysmally deep down. And Jetstream is having something of an existential crisis about his loyalties (ironic, considering his color palette). I am sincerely hoping they have some closure, for the sake of old friends.

All in all, a good setup chapter for the finale right around the corner. I, for one, cannot help but remain on the edge of my seat.

Also, I like how you coyly bashed fanfic writers everywhere. Twisting a story to fulfill your own desires... you clever sons of bitches.

[Shachza]

I'm surprised this isn't more well-liked. Perhaps its the prose - this is written for college-level readers.

I find myself wishing there was a way I could convince you to do a story like this with Celestia.

[Vermilion and Sage]

2259207

Thanks for those clarifying points. It helps to have an analysis, especially from the author of a work so complex.

Don't get me wrong, this complexity is amazing. In a website full of trashy romance fics, this is really a breath of fresh air. The feeling I get reading this is the same one I did when I first starting picking up long fantasy novels in middle school (Lord of the Rings, Lost Years of Merlin, etc.). The feeling there is that the story has so much depth that it must be read slowly, and several times to understand all that is going on and appreciate it.

I'll be waiting eagerly for the next chapter!

[Alondro]

2300385 I think it's beacuse so many of the motives were left without any hint of explanation for so long. It really began to feel like it was dragging things out forever, just because, even to a guy like me who has read LoTR all the way through 7 times.

You have to give readers some sort of payoff or clue to what's going on and why, otherwise it becomes difficult to form an emotional and/or intellectual attachment or curiosity.

As I've mentioned already, the stars' intentions are completely unknown at the time being. The only thing that seems clear is that they are quite maliciously evil... which I find puzzling given how Equestria's universe is constructed.

I am certain that alone has turned quite a few people off, since it seems to clash with the Sun and Moon rather drastically. In general, anthropomorphized astronomical bodies don't exist in diametric opposition, UNLESS there is a valid purpose guiding them. Since we heretofore know nothing of the stars' inexplicably malevolent actions, we cannot form any mental postulate of justification for their cruelty.

Were it not for my hope that the reason will eventually be given as to why the stars are cosmic assholes, I would probably have given up already myself, as its too large a question to leave unanswered.

[ValorlordV5]

I do appreciate that you've taken a lot of time and effort on this story, and it truly shows. It is subtle, imaginative, and detailed. However, it is long. The 20,000 word count per chapter is staggering and demoralizing, and as such I find it hard to find the motivation to read each chapter. Also, to be frank, I find it difficult to follow the story most all of the time. You've really done a good job here, don't get me wrong, but I feel that it's not really for me. I'm going to finish eventually, but I have to say that, because of my own limitations, I can't really enjoy it.

[Soft Shell]

Looks like the Weeping angels have arrived.