One is Silver

by El Dante

Safe and Secure

The yellowed pages flipped furiously until twin leather covers pounded them together. The book landed atop one of several stacks in the pile. Its did not hold this position long, as a newcomer soon overthrew it. This pattern repeated and repeated until the shelf was nearly bare.

"Where is it?" Twilight seethed. She abandoned the bookshelf and walked down the aisle to the next, already mostly bare and with its own pile. "I knew I put it somewhere I'd remember…" She navigated the maze of shelves, footsteps echoing through the library chambers. She arrived at a wooden bookstand to find Spike snoring, his purple scales shimmering in the warm sunbeam.

"Oh, Spike!" Twilight sighed and lifted him from the book he’d been sleeping on.

Spike, startled, dug his claws into the book’s open pages, ripping them out as Twilight raised him. “Oh, now look at what you’ve done!” she cried, and set him on the table beside her. He gave a disgruntled snarl and tried as best he could to return to his nap.

Once Twilight had removed the pages from his claws, she took them and laid them flat in their proper positions. With her finger, she traced along the seams and holes where they had ripped. Under her touch, the sheets and the book became whole again within seconds.

Such a shame to see something like a book’s pages damaged so, Twilight thought. What a marvelous thing a book’s page was. A single sheet could hold untold knowledge and wisdom, all contained within the scratches of a quill’s ink.

"It is here, right here," Twilight said, pressing the open pages flat. She traced a line with her finger. "It says so, right in the lore, '… but the dusk of the evening fifty score years hence shall herald her return. Seeking her vengeance, she will once again plunge the world into the everlasting night of Nocturnea.'"

Spike gave a scoffing hiss before once again resting his head on his foreleg. "Well, who asked you?" she shot back, frustrated. "The moonlight's been wavering irregularly, and it's almost the foretold time of reckoning! This is serious! It's been Augured!" She gave a few disgruntled puffs. "And besides," she continued once she had calmed down some, turning away and folding her arms, "it's not like it’s impossible."

Spike rolled onto his back and gave a snarling groan. "I'll have to take this up with the Princess,” Twilight continued. “She'll know what to do about this. Or… or at least she'll believe me."

She shut the book, stowed it in her handbag, and held out her arm to Spike. He hesitated at first, but climbed to his usual perch on her shoulder.

Twilight stowed the book in her large handbag and headed down the tall hallways of the Gallopstride castle, passing giant window after giant window that overlooked the city at the base of the mountain below.

She arrived at the grand hall, and with a nervous step followed the velvet carpet up to the dais. Her Majesty was seated on her golden throne, idly conversing with a lightly-armored Seraph. In truth, the throne was held by a Queen, though she preferred "Princess." A Queen was a faceless power to which lives were blindly sworn; a Princess was approachable, the champion of her people.

Her conversation seemed to have stemmed from a military report, but had since digressed to a light-hearted tale of a clumsy soldier-in-training. The conversation ended with Twilight's entrance, but the light spirits lingered. "Alright, Major, that'll be all," the Princess said, dismissing her officer.

The Seraph rose from the ground with a single beat of her wings, then swiftly passed Twilight, exiting through the doors behind her. In passing she said simply, "Cool dragon." Twilight turned and caught enough of her image to hold it in mind, but gave no reply. The Seraph had on an incomplete uniform, official but bulky cargo trousers below a thin cotton cyan tank-top that draped down her sleek figure, official jacket tied at her waist.

Curiously, she had worn an arm plate on her far side, the kind worn to cover the sword arm of a bladeswoman, but no other form of protection was evident and she carried no weapon. The battle-worn arm plate was positively ancient judging by the design and deadened luster, but otherwise surprisingly well kept.

But what had struck her most strongly was the hair. Humans had been designed liberally enough to bear a variety of colors, but never before had she had seen such a multitude of hues. Was it dyed, or had it been touched by spells? Nonplussed, Twilight abandoned the thought.

"Your—Your Highness," Twilight began. She nearly forgot to give a slight bow before delving into her handbag. She produced a messy handfull of loose papers covered in nearly-indiscernible charts and diagrams, a few of which escaped to the floor. Twilight indicated markings on one of the sheets, and made a hopeless attempt at explaining them. "As—as the archived records show, the moon’s lighting, and the irregular patterns suggest—"

She stopped to reach down to some of the fallen papers. She rose to find the Princess standing before her, arms extended warmly. Twilight may have been a grown woman, but the Princess still stood a head taller than her.

The Princess sighed and said caringly, "Twilight, dear, why is it you are not out with your companions, making plans for tomorrow’s festival? You’ve been so preoccupied with your studies, I can't help but be concerned."

Twilight's face reddened and she fought the urge to toss down the papers she was holding. "That's another matter entirely! This is serious! The foretold date of the Nightmare's return is imminent! The moon's wavering light—"

"The moon's glow has flickered for centuries. This is nothing new, Twilight. Much less something to worry about." The Princess turned for a set of doors on the wall behind the throne. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

"It's different now! It’s more frequent, more intense. This means something. I'm sure of it. You would know about the banishment more than anyone, wouldn't you? Isn't it of your own doing? You know it is not entirely fail-safe."

The Princess stopped short to give a soft sigh. "True, there is one way to break the seal, but precautions have been taken,” she answered. “There is no reason for them to be broken now and not before." She continued for the doors.

"Your Highness, please understand!" Twilight dropped the sheets to the floor, resorting to frantic arm gestures. "There was something else! It's what first brought my attention to it all. I was charting a constellation last night when I saw—this... this strange, green flash. It came from the moon as a long strand. It only lasted for an instant. It couldn't have stricken too far from here. And I'm sure I saw it."

The Princess's expression turned to a frown and she dropped her head.

"I'm certain I was the only one to see it," Twilight continued. "I doubt anyone else could have seen it without a telescope. It passed through mine by mere chance, and I was able to trace its angle back to the moon."

"Come, Twilight,” the Princess sighed. “There is something you should see." She passed through the doors, Twilight following behind her.

The two traveled along the stone hallway lined on each side with guarded doors. Candles lit themselves in their holes as the two passed them by, casting ghostly shadows along the walls and floor. Though the corridor seemed well-kept, Twilight could not ignore how desolate it felt. Spike shivered on her shoulder. At the end was another set of double doors, identical to the last.

The two proceeded through to find what looked like a fine, wooden wardrobe resting against the far wall. It seemed to dominate the otherwise featureless room, guarded by a Sentinel on either side. Twilight was surprised to see the two watchmen at such a secluded post, so deep within the castle. The two were Starcrest, like all of the Sentinels, suggesting that there was some form of enchantment or ward involved.

"Open the chiffonier, if you will," the Princess ordered politely, pointing to an amulet one of the watchmen wore. His face brightened, freed from the monotony of the post, while his partner grimaced at the thought of the chore.

The one with the amulet removed it and tapped the edge of it against one door in no particular area and gave the handle a try.

"Is there a problem?" the Princess asked. "Was the procedure not covered in your instructions when you were assigned this post? We do this rather frequently." His companion groaned and snatched the disk from his hand, laid it flat against a circular design on one of the doors, and gave it a turn, muttering an incantation. He then returned the amulet to his partner. The two then bowed and stepped aside to let the Princess pass.

She slowly drew open the cabinet doors and smiled, pleased to see its contents secure and untouched. She retrieved from inside a necklace, a beautiful blue bauble set in fine silver and chain of the same make. It captivated Twilight; it seemed as deep as the oceans, as the night sky. Spike cooed with envy at the sight of it.

"You see?" the Princess began, turning to Twilight. "It's safe. This is the only means of the Empress Nightmare's escape and return. The security seems simple, to be sure, but I've placed the ward myself, and the arrangements are fine set. I frequently access it myself, so it's always under watchful eye. There are no holes in the system, I’m certain. There is nothing to worry about, my dear."

She then made a motion around it with her hand, as though turning the pearl in its setting. It emitted an eerie noise that sounded through the hallways. The Princess acted as though this was normal, but she jumped when it was interrupted by something else, something low, almost a growl but soft as a whisper. For a moment, Twilight wondered if she had even heard it, but she was sure she felt it. It had surrounded her and engulfed her as it sank in and pierced her to the bone. Spike whimpered, making his discomfort known.

The Princess promptly replaced the artifact into the cabinet with a sharp slam of the doors. The design on the surface glowed dimly for a moment as the ward reset.

"It of course has other uses," the Princess said, composing herself. "Namely, it allows me to adjust the orbit of the moon and its phases, as is necessary in the absence of its former carrier—much as I do with the sun." She gave a tug at the golden chain of a marvelous pearl necklace she herself wore.

The former carrier, Twilight recalled. The Empress Nightmare herself.

Twilight waited to hear of any other functions the jewel might serve, but the Princess instead turned to exit the chamber. Twilight followed, voicing none of her confusion.

When the two finally returned to the Grand Hall, Twilight still pressed her point. "Alright, I understand that the Nightmare's return is no immediate threat, but what about the anomaly? It came right from the moon. I can't explain it any further than that. It can't be a good sign."

The Princess seated herself back on the throne. "Oh, Twilight dear, if it should reassure you, I would be glad to research any causes of your little green beam. Now, if you'd leave the matter be, I have a list of errands for you to run to help prepare for tomorrow's celebration." She smiled and produced a small roll of paper from her draping sleeve.

Twilight moaned and tipped back her head in disappointment. "Why is it that you always send me to do these menial tasks when a guard or servant could do the same?"

"Well, as my apprentice, it's part of the idea that you figure that out for yourself. Now, it's not in the city, but a town not far from here. It's a delightful little place that calls itself Ponytail, and no, that's not for any particular local hair tradition. You'll be fine as you are." She gave another smile. “I’ll send for a horse.”

“I always wondered how it is you call for them. They always seem just to show up.”

Twilight took the note and gave a parting bow as she turned to leave, opening the doors with a spell. The Princess called out to her from behind, "Be safe. Have fun," and just before the great doors slammed, "make some friends."

The doors stopped short as Twilight gave an unamused reply. "It isn't like I will be staying for very long. And why must that ever be your only joke?" The doors shut behind her.

The Princess sighed and cradled her head in her hand, elbow resting on the golden arm of the ornate chair. Why is it only ever a joke to her? she thought to herself.

Comments

[Pixels]

I would like it if it weren't humanized.
AUTHOR PLZ

[El Dante]

1894117

To leave it un-humanized would defeat the purpose of why I wanted to write it. PIXELS PLZ

On the other hand, using the ponies as an allegory for humanity would have been nice, but it is crucial to the plot that the Pegusai and the Unicorns did in fact exist at one point but died out.This is Discord's leverage over Luna, turning her into the Nightmare later, but would have proved a problem if I would still have used them as the form of the characters (RD wouldn't have been able to exist as a Pegasus if they were extinct, for example).

If humanization is your pet peeve, then fine. To each their own. I prefer human myself. All I ask is that if you are going to read it, to look past that.

[Pixels]

1894485
okay.

[El Dante]

1895312

Well, for the first time I feel as though I've been completely understood.You seem to understand just about every little aspect of this story so far, right on down to the writing style (though I was more of going for Steinbeck, or rather, "Steinbuck").

Your advice has been well received, and I'll make the adjustments on the description soon. Also, I do have shorter chapters on the way.

But also, if you expect nothing more than a retelling of the series premier, well... you're gonna have quite the time. There is so much this story has to offer. For starters, the Nightmare gets overthrown twice, (the first by Celestia herself, after all) and that is surrounded by so much internal conflict. The Mane Six do get their turn at the end, but don't worry, I shan't disappoint.

[El Dante]

1894739

Sorry if I seemed a bit edgy there. I've always wanted this story to get published on Equestria Daily or something like that, but some time ago I learned they are heavily biased against humanized fics. And from what I gather, much of the fandom feels the same way. I feel that all the characters are human at heart, and to portray them as such is just slipping off the pony guise, showing who they really are underneath. Unfortunately, writing human really makes me the underdog here, and I knew it was only a matter of time until someone posted exactly your comment. So, yes, I'm a little sore.

[El Dante]

1895312

Unfortunately, I doubt I will work on any other story than this one, and at this point I don't see much point in the blogging. Sorry to disappoint. This story is my pride an joy, you understand, and I feel obligated to bring it to its fullest potential. Any help in that area is more than welcome.

[horizon]

1900972
Yikes. These replies didn't show up in my notifications. I'm glad I happened to check the story again ...

(I know knighty has been working on the site's notification system. In case the same thing is happening on your end, I did reply to your comment on my post as well.)

I'm glad to hear you're not limiting yourself with series plot! I didn't think you would, it was just a reaction worth mentioning. When you start off with such a grand scope, it's a little bit of an adjustment to glance at the next chapter and say, "Oh, I know this part." It's a necessary concession to its pony origins, though.

> they are heavily biased against humanized fics ... much of the fandom feels the same way
I don't know that I can explain that knee-jerk reaction, but it's definitely there. I think part of it has to do with the fact that it feels like taking a decisive step away from canon that most authors don't put in the effort to justify, a sort of "if it would work with ponies why make the change?" thing, mixed in with a sort of reverse uncanny valley -- the same knee-jerk reaction that furries get when someone sees artwork of furry versions of human characters.

I know that Gale Wind, for example, got a lot of the same pushback despite the uniqueness of his premise, and even some really amazing stories that simply couldn't have worked without the human element have to struggle under the stigma. And actually, on reflection, I think I've read more good pony-stories-with-humans than bad ones. (But I also don't take a lot of chances on them, so I'm mostly only seeing the really good ones.)

It's a strange thing. And cruel.

> This story is my pride an joy, you understand, and I feel obligated to bring it to its fullest potential.
I absolutely think you should. Follow your vision! Despite my disagreement with your writing style, I like the world inside of your head.