Fear
The rain gave her a chill she couldn't wrap herself up from. She wished she could at least give the warranted reaction of a shiver, but even that instinct was beyond her capability to respond to.
As still as she was, her thoughts were in a gallop, or at least they were attempting to reach such speeds. When locked in place without physical capability, the pony's stiff body had her mind slowly abandon it. She found herself entrapped in a sort of delirium. Her mental capacity could only return slowly, as could its sharpness, and the slow chug of a pace this possessed was the closest to what she could call a movement of her own choosing. Her isolation threatened to lull her back to sleep again, and she latched on to any thought she could in an effort to stay awake.
The slight tilt of her neck in her newfound posture offered a mixed blessing. Recalling yesterday, she felt a fury that only came about from being teased. She had almost been freed!
The other side of the coin: she finally had a different view of the garden.
The Royal Canterlot Sculpture Garden. She thought that was what a magenta mare from two days ago had called this place. The title briefly knocked her from her timeless stupor, as had the argument of a group of three fillies. She quietly thanked the talkative visitors and their guide. The name Knowledge was disagreeable, however.
My name?
The pony darkly recalled asking herself that question before, but knew not how long ago.
The distress served as a suitable reminder to another recent visitor, one from only yesterday: the purple unicorn. The pony had been spouting off a monologue and woken her up again. A monologue which she realized she had already almost completely forgotten. Admittedly, it truly was a strange thing to wish ponies would talk to themselves more often. And perhaps run more field trips, whatever those were.
The only part of the unicorn's speech she remembered was Celestia. Her own attraction to the remembered name dulled over as she realised it also wasn't hers. So why did she know it?
The thought had been cut short as her visitor cast a spell at the base of her prison, and a wholly alien presence overcame her. Not quite believing what was happening, her hysteria took hold of her voice and implored the unicorn for answers she so desperately craved. Her only truly lucid note came when she realised she was being silenced again.
And then she felt angry. Very angry.
She was no longer been able to see the unicorn in her new field of vision. The lack of sight of the garden path was another drawback of her new position. But she certainly heard the laughter. The unicorn could only be laughing at her, and she quickly drew the conclusion of mockery. When the laughing died down, she could hear talking again, but in her rage she didn't care to listen. She was deaf to all but that laughter. The hooves which clenched the rolled, rocky scroll would have tightened if they could, imagining the unicorn's neck instead in their grasp.
She heard the difference before she felt it. Drops of water ran down her entire body in the downpour, and collected in all her ears' creases. But her hearing now seemed strangely clogged. The water should not have been affecting her like this. Her body was a blunt, unfeeling mass, sensations little more than names to it now.
Her hearing continued dulling, the rainwater giving her aches in her ears. She twitched them to dislodge the uncomfortable feeling.
She would have started if she could. She had twitched her ears.
An odd tingling, somehow familiar, began to work its way lower across her head, and now she truly felt the rain, water soaking into her mane and coat. While she would have liked to relish in her remembrance, her newly freed eyes had locked onto something in particular: a very faint, but visible aura of purple. She blinked clear raindrops to refocus her view. Then even the parts of her that were still solid felt weight and another's movement. A sliver of purple coat entered her vision.
The tingling of the receding stone began to reach her mouth, and she felt and saw a hoof pressed over it. Focusing hard, she closed her eyes. With only her nose to breath by, she took as deep an intake of air as she could. She opened her eyes again.
And then she bit.
~\\***\***/***//~
As she climbed up onto the base, Twilight felt as though she were swimming, or more accurately being swept along. Since waking from her nightmare, the numbness had been her new norm. The walk from home, the milling in her train seat, the sneak into the castle gardens; all of it felt entirely out of her hooves like she were in a river current. But as her hooves scrapped almost painfully across the hard stone, she was snapped into lucidity. Resting her right hoof across Knowledge’s mouth, she could feel the grooves of the mare’s gritted teeth. Twilight thought of Knowledge’s screams, and shivered.
Okay, Twilight. You did this before. You can do it again.
Upon her mane and back Twilight felt the pinpricks of drops of water, not from a river, but the sky. She looked up and finally realised it was raining. Breathing deeply, she began to cast her remedy spell.
She hadn't expected it to be raining. Twilight first cursed the weather ponies for bringing the storm, and then herself for forgetting to check the Canterlot weather schedule. This lasted for all of three seconds before Knowledge's mouth chomped down hard on her right hoof. Twilight bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out, and frantically tried to dislodge her caught limb.
The shift in her grip and Knowledge releasing her own hold happened simultaneously, and the slickness of the pedestal sent Twilight tumbling to the muddy ground below. As she attempted to stand the viscosity of the once smooth gravel path made her hooves skid.
When she was finally on all four of her legs again, Twilight looked to her sides. She spied the guiding beam of a night guard's searchlight around the left corner of the hedge row, and stared apprehensively. The pillar was growing longer and stronger as the pony out of sight walked closer to the edge. Its steady bobbing indicated the rhythm of a trot.
On the train, Twilight had briefly considered talking her way onto the grounds, but it quickly became an unsuitable option. The guards would hardly give her trouble when entering the garden, but her intent to leave with company soured the idea. Their questions would bring in Celestia.
Twilight watched the light get suddenly whisked away to leave only a dim glow around the hedge border; the unseen guard had about-faced. She released a held breath and checked the back face of her right fetlock, worried about any damage Knowledge had caused. For a moment she regarded a tooth-patterned bruise just beginning to surface. Her new limp was a duality, the abuse her side had taken from the fall starting to bother her.
She tried her best to ignore her injuries. In her current state, Knowledge presented an even greater danger to Twilight than biting. If she cried out, the guards patrolling the garden perimeter would certainly come searching. They would be caught, and nothing Twilight did afterwards would matter.
“W-W...W...” Twilight heard, and clenched both her eyes shut. The rest of her frame followed suit, half resigned to the coming scream already. When it didn't sound she looked up.
Knowledge was mouthing something, her face an angry mask. The jutting neck muscles seesawing beneath her skin suggested a force behind her desired words, but no sound escaped her mouth now. Soon the eyes of the mare's enraged face began to slip in focus. They lost their hardness to stare at nowhere in particular past Twilight. The rest of Knowledge's portrait began to relax—or shrivel—as well; her eyebrows unknitted, and her once taut cheeks sagged. It was only from a dry gasp barely audible over the rainfall that Twilight finally understood. Knowledge must have used most of the breath she’d had during their first encounter. Now she was choking, the stone that had inadvertently been preserving her oxygen peeled away.
Glancing further down Twilight saw that her fall had interrupted her spell. It was at a stand-still once again at the bottom of the mare's neck. Her concern for the suffocating pony pushed aside Twilight's panic and she resumed her casting. As Knowledge's torso was freed, she and Twilight both seemed to inhale at the same time from their respective reliefs. Twilight had to cut hers short. She needed to refocus some of her magic to hold Knowledge steady. Besides not wanting her to fall or fold over onto the still petrified portions of her body, Knowledge's fury seemed to have come back with her breath. She had apparently decided to forgo screaming again for a more direct show of rage. With her back legs being the only part of her still frozen, she was stretching her front pair towards Twilight as far as they could reach.
In the split second that followed, Twilight realised too late that this action required Knowledge to have dropped her scroll.
The stoney motif produced a sensible ripple as it struck the ground, and the shock wave opposed all cover provided by the weather. It sounded out over the garden in a distinct THUD. The impact left the scroll cracked into two roughly equal pieces. They sat flush against the platform's base, just shy of Twilight's front hooves.
Twilight looked left. The light was back. It held still for a moment, listening with its guard, before it mimicked the approaching gallop with its movement.
Twilight was out of time.
The spell was tantalizingly close to its conclusion, now hooked around only the bottoms of the mare's rear hooves. Twilight used the scroll's rubble as a makeshift boost and leapt up onto the platform. She once again hooked her right hoof around the mare's mouth and her left around the mare's waist. When Twilight had to take a step back whilst struggling with her, she knew Knowledge had been completely freed.
Twilight stemmed her magic's flow, eager to dispose of the beacon. Another light was rapidly approaching their position. Muffled protests followed two grunts of pain as Twilight leaned back. Both ponies tumbled into the row of boxwood behind the circular base. Twilight actually felt Knowledge's teeth start to close around her injured hoof again before they both froze. For the first time in what Twilight supposed was centuries, Knowledge held still of her own accord. Her teeth were awkwardly bared as her mouth remained in a light press over Twilight's bad fetlock.
Through a break in the bushes, a grey unicorn stallion in dark cobalt armour was visible within five feet of the hedge row, and the distance closed further as he trotted over to inspect the broken scroll and the base. He looked up and stared for a long time until he began to scan his surrounding area. His light moved at a slow, tracking pace across every nearby surface.
Twilight frowned. She didn't want to risk teleporting the two of them without a clear view of her destination. She was bitterly reminded of what had once happened when she had carried herself and Spike simultaneously. The bright burst of magic would also do them no favours. The only solution was to navigate the hedge maze. Twilight very carefully began to inch backwards, trying to disturb as few leaves as possible. Keeping her movements slow and precise left Twilight unprepared for Knowledge biting down again.
It hadn't been intentional. The bite was significantly lighter than before, a product of Knowledge's nerves. Twilight cried out, and Knowledge winced along with her. She scarcely had time to notice Twilight's hoof and spit it out before she got pulled backwards. The guard's beacon blinded her as she fell. As she and Twilight lied upon the grass within the maze's perimeter, the sound of 'Halt!' rang strong over the garden.
Twilight sparked up her horn, not bothering to stand. She knew she was making an estimate, but a couple of magical burns were preferable to facing the guard. As the armoured stallion crashed through the brush, Twilight's last thought before vanishing was a hope that he had not seen her face.
~\\***\***/***//~
The only obstacle faced in tracking the two came when they disappeared in a flash of violet light. Thankfully, a second flash soon appeared within the hedge construct's middle, the two entangled figures forming into a pupil in a circular clearing. She hovered high above as the two ponies untangled themselves.
Following their movement was easy after that, especially considering the supposed guide of the two ponies had apparently no sense of direction. Granted, her companion seemed of not much help. She seemed too busy alternating between being rooted to her place and screaming unintelligibly. Eventually, the first pony took several strides back and her posture indicated her mounting desperation. Commands came in harsh shouts, both from the leader to the follower, and several guards pursuing the two ponies. The resulting meekness of the second pony brought the familiarity of the first one to the forefront. Not that her magic's colour hadn't given her away already. Twilight Sparkle.
Ponies out after dark? The night's restlessness was apparently contagious.
When a small common owl swooped low over the maze, the irony of her previous thought seemed palpable. The owl was evidently tracking the two ponies as well, but seemed to keep his distance all the same. He kept his eyes pointedly fixed upon Twilight and didn't notice the other bird peaked much higher in the sky. She remained hidden from pony and owl alike amidst the moon's bright glow, the pale light defying its storm cover.
Twilight reached the top right corner of the hedge maze, her deadweight companion in line behind. One guard each approached from the west and south sides respectively, but she seemed not to pay any mind. Instead, she scrabbled quickly through a hole to the other side of the green corner. A shallow ledge leading into the castle moat was all that awaited Twilight on the other side, and at first it seemed like she was getting even more desperate. Making ready to swim, even.
When Twilight's horn sparked up once again, her intention was immediately understood. A star burst engulfed each pony and they vanished. Both flying creatures ceased their respective tracking. Neither of them would be able to spot the secondary flash. The teleport spell's anchor was lost in the bright Canterlot cityscape below.
Hiding was pointless now, the quarry surely putting even more distance between themselves and the palace. She abandoned her veil of moonlight to fly down to the owl starting to turn his back to the maze. The even glide of her red and gold primary feathers made her approach near silent, and the owl gave a start when he turned around to regard—not three feet away—his neighbour in the sky.
The little bird seemed to be trying to sink into himself and become even smaller, cowed by the much larger presence's majesty. She merely waited patiently for a response. When none came, she instead offered first pass in a throaty but friendly caw. The owl began to hoot out a long-winded explanation after that.
The owl's nervousness did not deteriorate, but it seemed as though its cause had shifted. He glanced directly below him at the hedge corner where Twilight had once stood. The two pursuing guards from before had coalesced at the spot, and were conversing almost as hurriedly as the owl was now. She paid the owl's story as much due as she could with her ears. Her eyes, meanwhile, stared at the two hopelessly confused guards. When one suddenly looked up and pointed towards the sky to direct the other, both birds decided it was time to leave. The owl had told his story all in one breath anyway, heaving his little chest in effort. He had already seemed exhausted before, apparently having flown a long way.
Ponyville.
He turned to fly away, making not for the mountain valley town as expected, but towards Canterlot below. She hoped that the owl would soon see sense enough to fly home and wait. Surely his master would be back to Ponyville soon. Even before his long-winded tale it was obvious that was who Twilight Sparkle was to him. Why would he have given her such great attention otherwise? But he had also gone on to say that he hadn't recognized the other pony.
Her golden eyes drifted towards an empty pedestal. Few would.
“Philomena?”
It was not her master that said her name, but the voice was almost as familiar. The sky is full of wings tonight.
She turned to regard Princess Luna, now level with her in the night sky, the clouds above just short of scraping distance of the alicorn’s horn. Even with the height, however, Philomena felt much more exposed now that she was out of the moon’s guarding glare. The flames licking at her wingtips stood her out against the black clouds like a tiny sun, and raindrops sizzled into steam from her deep, hovering strokes. The guards below hadn't left, and now grew even more agitated at the princess's arrival. Luna waved a hoof to signal them away, and gave a questioning look to the phoenix before her. A simple flick of the eyes directed the princess towards the pedestal in the garden below. If it weren't for a few shards of granite seated at its bottom, the cylindrical base could have passed as having held nothing at all.
Luna paled. She stared at the scene for a long time before she finally remembered Philomena before her. As gracefully as she could in midair, Luna tilted her head in a nod at the phoenix, signalling her leave.
Philomena watched her fly down and speak a few orders to a couple of other guards. They promptly ran off, searchlights in tow. She then trotted up to the pedestal base and stared, not caring about the rain. To Philomena, her grim curiosity was plain to see.
~\\***\***/***//~
The teleport spell had barely subsided before Twilight was peering over the apartment's edge and to an alleyway below. Her body and mind caught up to each other respectively, and she checked behind her.
Knowledge's teal coat and white mane were soaked and filthy with dirt. She was rocking back and forth, front hooves crossed. She looked nearly catatonic, but she was still there. Knowledge apparently had two states to her attitude, and though this one was still distressing to witness, Twilight easily preferred it over her other one.
Twilight was hesitant to apply a term to Knowledge's other frame of mind. It was too sorrowful to be rage, but too determinate to be anguish. Despite this, it did retain one characteristic the two emotions shared: loudness. As Knowledge had screamed at her within the maze only a minute earlier, Twilight found she could barely discern a word over the combined cacophony of the weather and the pursuing guards. Twilight recalled Knowledge punctuating her indistinct syllables with a pointing hoof as much as her hysteric tone.
Twilight had at first tried to disregard her behaviour and continue forward, but Knowledge had persisted and seemed about ready to abandon Twilight altogether. At that, Twilight's meagre attempt at staying collected had collapsed. She had shouted down Knowledge into frightened submission, ordering her forward. Twilight regretted the need for force, but at least this way Knowledge was thankfully semi-obedient to her commands, and even more thankfully quiet.
But now that they were out of the maze, it seemed Knowledge was again lacking in motivation. Sitting heavily in her place on the rooftop, she let her head drop. Below the edge of the apartment district of Canterlot’s northeastern corner, the main street sat aglow with lamplights. Their glass covers refracted the light of lit wicks and repelled persistent raindrops. Knowledge looked up again, and the wonder in her eyes as their gaze drifted across Canterlot's building tops was dulled by her fear of further verbal lashing. Knowledge avoided looking at Twilight, gazing at no building in particular like a lost child.
Twilight walked over and gave a light nudge with her nose. “Hey.”
No answer. Knowledge continued to hold herself, still pointedly avoiding eye contact.
“Knowledge?”
Knowledge responded only with a sharp squint, as though she'd been struck. She began to sob and sink despairingly to the concrete floor on her belly. Twilight caught Knowledge with her neck and hoisted her back up. Her limpness persisted, and Twilight stepped back to grab the sides of the dangling head with both front hooves. She raised its eyes to be level with her own.
“I'm Twilight Sparkle,” she said calmly, but her heart was speeding back up again. They were wasting time. They had wasted enough as it was, and she gave a quick glance past Knowledge's shoulder to the castle behind her. Still dark. “A-And... And I'm sorry about the yelling, and for whatever happened to you... but...” she trailed off, terrified of both further panic from the mare, and from whatever the full extent of her own implication could be.
“Look, right now we need to keep going. They could be—” Twilight cut herself off in horror. A second glance past Knowledge granted her the view of several beams of light. They bounded down the many steps leading up to the castle. “They are looking for us,” she amended, and gave a point. Knowledge finally straightened herself in the form of a double-take, and her face turned back to Twilight to mirror the unicorn's panic.
Knowledge's lips moved, but she seemed too terrified to do more than mouth a single word. Twilight read the breathless syllable as she stared: What. Twilight knew full well what Knowledge was trying to ask, but the earth pony didn't appear so passionate now.
“We can't do this.” Twilight shook her head. “Not now. We need to go. Please.”
Twilight stared at two of the distant white beams. The light bolded the silhouettes of several guards walking in file. They had reached street level and were beginning to fan out. She didn't bother to wait for an answer from Knowledge, and turned to look down the central street. She found her next spell's anchor and lit up her horn.
The two of them promptly rematerialized on the now very familiar station platform, and Twilight thanked her mental clock for remembering the train's departure correctly. The incident in the maze had used up all of the leeway time she’d allotted herself, and the train was just preparing for final sendoff. She glimpsed to her left to see Knowledge. She had adopted an emotional poker face, let down by her pained eyes. Twilight looked behind her again. There were now four beams of light drawing pictures in the air and on the Canterlot main street as the city was combed. Thankfully, they still seemed fairly distant from the platform.
Twilight dragged Knowledge into the train, stopping only briefly to flip the trip's payment of bits to the bewildered supervising conductor. The stallion gave a raised eyebrow at the two drenched mares as they were settled, or in Knowledge's case carried, into their seats, but paid no greater mind.
Twilight was afraid to sit by the right-side window, lest she be seen. Her curiosity eventually won out against her better judgement and she took a peek anyway. The platform was more barren than the two-mare occupied car, and Twilight stared in anticipating fear. When the train began to pull away, Twilight made ready to berate herself for not being more cautious. As quiet as the cabin was she nearly missed the voice as it whispered out one frail word.
“Okay.”
Twilight turned to regard the only other passenger, her stowaway. Knowledge was still in a lockup; her eyes were fixated upon the upholstery of the seat in front of her. Her head gave an almost imperceptible nod. She still seemed shaky, but her voice was marginally steadier the next time she spoke up.
“Okay.”
~\\***\***/***//~
She wanted to ignore it.
She wanted more than anything else in Equestria to ignore it, but she couldn't.
Princess Celestia was in her private quarters, sitting in front of what most ponies would consider a decently sized writing desk for two ponies sitting shoulder to shoulder. She had forgone putting her assorted regalia on for the time being. The extraordinarily early hour of the morning she was accustomed to meant that she had not even left her room yet this day. But even still, the time she could afford was beginning to run short. Beyond her closed balcony door, she could tell the sun was rising higher, defying the continuing rainfall, and she would be expected to be present along with it soon.
Her current dilemma was keeping her inside for quite a few minutes longer than usual, and she cursed her situation's need for haste as much as its need for delicacy. If she stayed locked away for much longer, her little ponies might start to get anxious. She turned her head back down to the varnished redwood of her desk.
Splayed out across the flat surface were the objects of her grief: an unrolled letter, a press-clipping from the day's issue of the Canterlot Daily, and the most recently filed arrest warrant of the Canterlot Royal Guard. The latter item displayed a signature in bold black ink upon its bottom:
By order of
Captain Shining Armor
of the Royal Guard of Her Majesty, Princess Celestia of Equestria
The letter was the first thing Celestia had read that morning, the parchment clutched dutifully in the beak of her phoenix, Philomena. She pried it from the bird's mouth, Philomena apparently having decided that it was worth keeping safe from others. She immediately noticed several things about the scroll before she had even begun to read it.
The letter had been sent a while ago, perhaps last night. It had not blinked into existence while Celestia had been aware of it, and this was immensely confusing. Twilight was a more logical unicorn than to send letters to her in the dead hours of the night. In fact, she recalled telling her to direct nightly letters to her sister from now on. She had hoped that Twilight's friendship reports could impart something onto Luna. In Celestia's private opinion, Luna was shakily adjusting at best to present day Equestria since returning from her thousand year banishment.
Upon unrolling the scroll, Celestia's eyes immediately drifted down to the signature. The message was rather long, and there was a puncture through one of the script's letter's from where Philomena had been clutching the paper in her beak. Even still, Celestia easily managed to figure out the missing letter in the middle of the name—an i—to read the signature as Spike the dragon's. Her suspicions of an unusual message confirmed, Celestia began to read.
Dear Princess Celestia,
I'm worried. Sorry to be so blunt, but I can't handle much more stress over this. Twilight's been acting a little
The inked letters began to look shaky and then ended entirely in a smear. Spike had clearly assembled the letter in a hurry, and he must have cut himself off mid-line. Celestia found the next paragraph and continued reading.
Weird. There's no other way I can say it. I know you asked her to do something about Discord back in Canterlot a couple of days ago, and I decided I'd try to stay out of it. But ever since she got back to Ponyville she's been kinda edgy.
No offense, but edgy might be putting it mildly. She can't seem to do anything but worry about something. The worst part is she won't even tell me what it is. I think Pinkie Pie is starting to get worried too, and she's bound to tell everypony else and get them worked up. Whatever is bugging Twilight, I'm sure we can help. I just wish she'd let us.
Twilight's walking down the street as I'm writing this. I think she might be heading back to Canterlot again. If she comes to you, can you please let us know what's going on? I want the Twilight I know back.
Sincerely and anxiously,
Spike
Celestia ran the letter through her mind again and again, grateful that she did not have to hear Spike's words face to face. It was going to be difficult enough to handle this situation as it was without her resolve being tested further. She glanced down at Captain Armor's warrant. The document called for the arrest of an unknown pony on the grounds of theft of royal property.
Celestia's continued isolation in her room meant that she had yet to see what exactly had been stolen. The warrant withheld that detail, fearing the Canterlot press getting even more agitated over the break-in. Celestia skimmed her eyes over the newspaper clipping. 'ROYAL THEFT!' screamed the Canterlot Daily's front page, the bold header looking naked without an accompanying picture for the article. It too had clearly been very hastily assembled and printed.
Celestia bit her tongue as she connected the warrant, the letter, and the clipping together. She was not so foalish to think that everything could just be a coincidence. Twilight had been at the castle.
If certain details from the press were to be believed, Twilight wasn't alone either. The paper spoke of the guards pursuing two ponies through the Canterlot Sculpture Garden. The warrant, however, had said nothing of the sort, giving mention to only one perpetrator. Celestia remembered the paper saying the two night guards who gave chase—Private Indigo Wind and Private Silent Vigil—had been interviewed. She quickly put two and two together. What a time for a guard to let something slip! But even still...
Two ponies? But Spike's letter mentioned only Twilight. Could she have—
“Sister?”
Celestia turned her head around to regard the voice, keeping her composure in a practiced calm. A navy blue head peered at her through the open door, Luna having managed to crack it open without her hearing.
“Hello, Luna,” Celestia greeted. “I shall be out in a minute or so.”
Luna nodded. “Very well. It pains me to say it, but it appears as though you have attracted quite an audience. They await your word.” She hesitantly ducked her head away and shut the door.
Celestia sighed. Until seeing her sister just now, the only other pony she had spoken to this morning had been a guard; Corporal Torchlight if she remembered correctly. He'd delivered to her Captain Armor's warrant and the press's request for a statement. She didn't know what she could possibly tell them that they didn't already know for themselves. If anything, they were more informed than she was at the moment.
Celestia supposed that she should consider that last thought a blessing, but it instead made her weary. All she was going to do was play back their info to them like a broken record. It made her feel pointless and completely removed from the events unfolding before her. Nopony was requiring her presence.
Just tell them that they know everything already, and you can be done with all this.
Celestia was never good at lying, especially to herself. She knew that whatever was going on wasn't nearly over. She thought of Twilight's almost certain involvement, and stared down again at the three sources of her discomfort.
Off in the corner came an impatient squawk.
Four sources. Philomena had been acting strangely all morning, and Celestia had no doubts that she had taken a peek at the letter herself. Celestia knew even better than the average pony of a phoenix's unworldly wisdom, but it still surprised her to see Philomena harbouring her own dark contemplations on events. Philomena stared pointedly before flicking her eyes in the general direction of the bedroom door.
Celestia sat up and affixed her assorted wear to her body, the golden collar and tiara weighing her head and neck down. Her steps felt clunky and leaden from her shoes.
Quickly, she floated over a sheet of parchment and a quill to write a letter. Her hurry was more out of her desire to keep her word to Luna than anything else, but she also couldn't deny that by now she very much desired to leave her room. The whole chamber reeked of anxiety.
The scroll was rolled and given a very specific stamp of address on its seal. Celestia knew she couldn't stop the letter from arriving through Spike. She could only hope Twilight was still in a lucid enough mind to honour a formality like what had just been placed.
She'd lingered long enough. Celestia opened the doors to her chambers, and began to walk calmly to the waiting conference area established in the castle courtyard. She stopped only once to give one brief order to Shining Armor.
~\\***\***/***//~
The morning sun was just beginning to crest over the eastern mountains by the time the train pulled into Ponyville's station. It was much darker than usual for the time. The bright rays had to push through several layers of storm cloud visible high over the mountainside, the rock formation apparently jealous of the larger storm still brewing over Canterlot. Ponyville itself was relatively cloudless, but doomed to be in a neutral sort of gloom until the sun reached high enough in the distant thunderstorm.
Ponyville sat just as abandoned as the previous night. Everypony was apparently waiting indoors for the unusual autumn chill in the midst of summer to pass. Twilight led Knowledge through the streets, the two of them maintaining their mutual mute state. Nopony stirred in the silence, and the hoofsteps of the two echoed in defiance of the open air.
When they reached the library, Twilight cautiously eased it open and examined the entire main room. Spike was nowhere in sight. Twilight urged Knowledge through the front door and up the stairs to her room. But when Knowledge made to open the bedroom door, Twilight caught a faint sound, and grabbed and pulled her back by the scruff of her neck. She leaned her head against the wood and listened. Spike's muffled sleep-talk came through from the other side.
Twilight cursed herself again. In her rush she had forgotten to find a place where she could sufficiently hide Knowledge. She had gotten lucky on the walk home, but what would happen if Spike saw the other pony and began to ask more questions? Twilight knew that Spike was already inquisitive, and she didn't need more on her plate to explain away. Her little episode yesterday was bad enough as it was.
Twilight heard the sounds of something being moved none too quietly downstairs. She peered over the edge to look below. A teal hoof was busy poking at a globe on the edge of the circular table, and Knowledge's eyes darted rapidly. The clattering maintained a pattern. The hoof would first knock the globe into a spin, the sphere wobbling slightly as if about to topple over. Next, when a new face of carved wood in the shape of a landmass was facing Knowledge, a brief silence would ensue as her eyes narrowed to scrutinize the area. Those same eyes would occasionally widen slightly before shrinking again in multiple brief shocks.
Spike was a heavy sleeper, and in another room no less, but Twilight was still worried about him waking up from Knowledge's current activity. And she still needed to find a better place to hide her. Twilight trotted quietly down the stairs and walked around the table. She was to Knowledge's direct left, the one visible eye ignoring her. It and its companion were still pointedly focused on the globe. Whatever Knowledge was searching for, she was apparently having no luck in finding it. Twilight gave a low, polite cough in an attempt to garner her attention.
No response.
“Knowledge?” Twilight tried in a more direct attempt at her attention. She regrettably got her wish as the two reddish irises of Knowledge suddenly fixated upon her own. In the same snap reaction, Knowledge's hooves removed themselves from the table and globe. Her legs splayed wide trying to keep her shaking body steady, and her face betrayed her rage as she screamed.
“Stop calling me that! That's not my name!”
Twilight didn't think. She immediately picked the livid pony up with her magic, and her head darted in search. Her eyes settled on the basement door, and she hesitated only a second before hearing a thump upstairs. At that she swung the door open and tossed Knowledge inside. Knowledge's continued cries of angry indignation changed into grunts of pain as she audibly tumbled down the stairs. The muffled sounds grew gradually further away. They ceased just as another door was thrown open above Twilight.
“What the hay's going on?” Spike asked worriedly. His eyes stared wide at Twilight despite the dark bags beneath them. Twilight was still slightly stunned, both with Knowledge and herself, and she took a moment before turning to regard Spike.
“A... A bit of an angry visitor, Spike. That's all,” Twilight said slowly, piecing a plausible lie carefully together. “They were yelling, and I had to throw them out the door.” As Spike gazed back, Twilight supposed that the brief scrutiny she experienced from him was inevitable given her behaviour yesterday. But he thankfully seemed to buy her story, mistaking her rigidness for stunned silence on account of a particularly belligerent pony. In a way, he was not mistaken at all.
Spike walked back into the bedroom, grumbling from his body's remembrance of the early hour and its demanded lethargy. “Guess they forgot this was a library,” he mumbled bitterly. Shortly after the door closed again, Twilight heard Spike belch and thought grimly of his morning breath.
Content in the belief that Spike would be asleep again for another few hours, Twilight walked towards the basement. She cautiously shut and locked the door behind her, and observed the scene below.
Knowledge was busy rubbing one of her shoulders. Already it was starting to bruise. Twilight's earlier guilt came back immediately. Knowledge looked up to regard her before hurriedly looking away again, as if expecting further abuse. Twilight wasn't sure if this or the stun from her fall had kept her quiet while she had talked to Spike. When Knowledge gave a quick, nervous glance up from a creak in the ceiling, however, Twilight realised she was afraid for the same reason as her.
Twilight walked briskly down the stairs to Knowledge. For all her speed, when she had finally reached her she was left unprepared as for what to say, and was stuck in an awkward half-lean forward. Her one hoof partially outstretched to try and make physical contact. It lingered in the open air, and Knowledge, seeming so small now, shifted away as though worried about something contagious upon Twilight's hoof. Twilight lowered it away.
“I'm sorry... again,” Twilight began, whispering. It began to feel like a necessity to whisper now. “I didn't know what else to do. Somepony would have seen you, and we would've been caught, and then we...”
Twilight started weeping openly. Her sobs seemed loud to her, and when she looked again she could see Knowledge had glistening eyes as well. They continued to face away from her towards the floor. Fear poured out from them, and inside Twilight saw the same imagination she had been experiencing lately; an inevitable conclusion of doom book-ended its every pictured scenario.
“And...” Twilight continued, her throat threatening to choke. “And I'm sorry, but I don't know your name.”
Knowledge collapsed in a heap, Twilight lacking the urgency and willpower to catch her this time. She felt grotesque even being around her now. The bruises on Knowledge's body stared back like bloodshot eyes. Twilight tried to distract herself by examining the basement.
“Neither do I.”
Twilight fought to keep her composure, and latched onto a new idea. “You can stay down here,” she said. Knowledge—Twilight reminded herself to not to say that again—had turned to face her once more. Her eyes were still wet with tears, but her sadness was temporarily halted from sudden evident confusion. Twilight took advantage of the attention to keep explaining. “Spike never comes down here if I don't want him to. Last time he walked in on me during an experiment I got kinda' angry with him. So now he avoids th— N-No, I didn't mean—”
Twilight cut herself off as Knowledge scrambled across the floor away from her, wobbling too much to truly stand. She quickly realised her accidental implication, Knowledge looking ready to bolt. She spoke up again in a level tone.
“I'm sorry. That wasn't what I meant. I'm just a student, and most of my experiments are spell tests on myself. The most I've done to somepony else is give Spike a moustache. Oh, and Rarity a temporary set of wings.” She knew that Knowledge didn't know who she was talking about, but she thought the mention of the harmless magic tricks she'd performed was the important part.
Knowledge visibly uncoiled, and sat looking incredulous. Twilight mused to herself that the expression was probably better suited to her own face. This mare was absolutely incomprehensible!
Knowledge seemed to catch something in Twilight's face anyways. She slightly dipped her head, and her brilliant white mane flowed over to cover one of her eyes in a very Fluttershy-ish gesture. But the resemblance grew slightly less uncanny as she spoke. “My apologies.” Knowledge blushed. “I was merely surprised that you say you can do things of that sort. I've only heard of a few unicorns who have done such feats.”
Twilight blinked. Knowledge's formality flew in the face of her current composure and appearance. Her tears had only now dissipated entirely, and dried mud still sat on her coat in a dull, caked crust. Twilight tried to buy a few seconds of time to formulate a response by examining her own body. Unsurprisingly, she was filthy as well, and she thanked Spike's poor morning vision for not having to explain it away.
“I'm not like most unicorns, I guess,” Twilight said finally, trying to remain modest. “I mean, I did free you.”
Twilight didn't even try to hide her cringe. What else was she stupidly going to remind Knowledge of? But Knowledge didn't violently react as before. Twilight heard a few hoofsteps, and was surprised to see her standing directly in front of her. She leaned in for what looked like what was about to be a nuzzle, but instead she held her placid stance. She briefly looked past Twilight, ponderous, before locking eyes again.
She smiled.
The red-tinted eyes and the relative smallness of the grin should have made the gesture feeble. Instead, it overwhelmed Twilight, and her silence continued as Knowledge spoke up again. “Yes. Thank you.”
Twilight finally loosened, hoping her surprise wasn't so thinly veiled. But her stutter continued to give her away. “Y-You're welcome, I guess.”
Knowledge nodded, but her smile soon disappeared in a frown once again. It was her same look from moments before, and she stared at the floor with a hoof held up to her lips. Twilight could almost picture a deep-noted hum of contemplation.
Twilight gave her throat a cough to bring Knowledge's attention back. Knowledge's head raised in a violent upwards snap as if she had dosed off. “Will you be alright down here for a little while? I just need to sort things out a bit. I need to think.”
Knowledge nodded. “Yes. I need some time myself.” She seemed to read Twilight's mind with her next word. “Alone.”
Twilight nodded back, and turned to walk up the stairs.
“Wait!”
Twilight faced back sternly and brought her hoof up in parallel to her mouth, tapping her lips for emphasis. Knowledge caught the implication and spoke up more quietly. “Could you bring me the globe, please?” Twilight stared confused, but Knowledge could only offer her own stare in return.
“Alright.” Twilight acquiesced. She reached the door and listened against its wood. Twilight briefly worried when she didn't hear Spike's snoring, but decided if the baby dragon was awake he wasn't downstairs either. She would've heard it. She unlatched the door and turned back to Knowledge.
“I'm going to have to lock this again,” she whispered. “Just in case.” Knowledge seemed to understand and nodded, putting a hoof up to her lips. Twilight repeated the gesture subconsciously, then opened the door and peeked through.
Nopony was in sight, and Twilight quickly levitated the globe over to herself and past her down to Knowledge. She passed through the threshold back into the main room. The faint sound of a spinning axis grew inaudible as Twilight closed the door and magicked its lock in place with a light click.
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Yay! This updated! And what an interesting twist, too. Who is Knowledge, and why was Luna so scared? What was Celestia's letter about? Where will it go? I look forward to reading more.
what a twist! I need moar!
The way Luna and Celestia are acting, makes me wonder whether both of them share the same dirty secrets, or that "Knowledge" is not as innocent as she seems.
Needs explosions. Like, Knowledge was an explodey pony, or something. And then Adam Sandler has to stop her from, like, exploding all the universes. Or something.
Awesome chapter, can't wait for more!
See you next month!
This was amazing as usual. I really enjoy the drama and suspense you put into these chapters, It make the wait for the next chapter even harder.
(That's a good thing, 'cause the story is so interesting)
I can't wait till the next part of this mystery unfolds!
This is becoming quite interesting...
Maybe Knowledge was once the pony equvilent of Bin Laden?
Poor Knowledge.
This needs to update faster.
BECAUSE I CAN'T GET ENOUGH
Tyrantlestia Watch, Chapter Three: With Celestia having a prominent role, our scouts reported no signs of the abomination. This is excellent news. Spirits have risen even higher and talks of a celebration have already begun throughout the camp.
(inb4 "Knowledge" has something to do with NMM and is evil.)
Knowledge seemed really interested in the globe, perhaps she was stone'd due to her knowledge of the celestial bodies. Like, perhaps, the sun and moon aren't controlled by the royal sisters. I dunno...
wooohoo UPDATE!!!! Awesome chapter!!! But please, make updates more frequently.
Ah yes!You CAN count to three! Unlike a certain developer of a certain company named after a certain wheel of metal that you turn.
Don't open this image unless you know the answer.
i3.ytimg.com/vi/B9rrS32ctQk/mqdefault.jpg
2170793
Every time you make fun of them, they delay the game more.
An excellent update. I am intreg-wayed, and am eager for more.
Shouldn't Twilight be asking why she was put in stone in the first place. What if she's some sort of supervillian or something.
Let's hope Pinkie doesn't find out there's a new pony in town...
2170472
I am so reading your comments like Star Trek: The Next Generation mission logs, complete with Picard impersonation.
>>Everyone else
And as long as I'm commenting, thank-you again everyone for your comments! Even if I don't respond to every one of them, I do read and appreciate every last one.
I'm loving the story so far! more updates!!!
2171162
I think it's safe to say that if she's forgotten her name, she's forgotten her former job as well. And even if she hasn't, and is a bad guy, she still has to deal with Fluttershy for the position of the most evil thing in Ponyville.
Google "Tumblr Doctor Adorable" if you want to see the extent of said evil, but be warned, those with heart problems may not be able to handle the Daww.
2172125 that's actually a good point, how is Twi going to hide her from the infamous 'Pinkie Sense'?
Let the games begin! I wonder how Celestia will react?
Good chapter hmm!
If it is revealed that celestia did indeed turn them to stone then by god do I hope that this is a story about celestia's long overdue funeral
Interesting, I am very much looking forward to where this is going. May I also say that you have a delightful writing style, and I thoroughly enjoy reading this story.
Are you a fan of Bastion by any chance?
2178157
Oh I don't know about that. Maybe there's a good reason Knowledge was turned to stone. Maybe she's mass murdering psychopath, or she tried to steal the elements of Harmony, or maybe she stole Celestia's favorite teacup. These are serious offences you know!
2180790
Nope, never played it (though I 'ought to). Just a coincidence.
2182909
Well, it's an awesome coincidence. The reference even fits in context, as well.
Looking forward to the next chapter.
2181531
or maybe she was just another unlucky victim of a cockatrice
Answers!