A mad cultist decides that the best time to fulfil a forgotten prophecy and open a portal to the interdimensional void is now. As he himself is unable to do so, he requires the aid of somepony more magical. And he knows just the pony for the job..
Before the reign of the Regal Sisters, a pony gazed into the abyss and lost her sanity. In her madness, she was granted foresight and issued a prophecy that told of the reign of two sisters up to the creation of a gate to the void, the existenceless abyss her insanity and power came from. More than a thousand years have passed since then. The Equestrians have forgotten about the prophecy and the cult that the mad seer has sparked is all but gone. Only a single follower remains, perpetuating a disputable "gift" passed throughout generations. Finally, the stars are right and the Princess of the Night returns, starting a series of events that culminate in the ascent of a pony whose magic might be strong enough to breach the boundaries of her dimension. Now all the demented cultist has to do is to get her to do just this.
Takes place during the second half of the third season. For the most part, at least. Should not directly contradict show canon. Apparent contradictions are either intentional and will be eventually resolved or errors on my part.
Shout-out to Cygnia for being my lovely preliminary reader. If you find grammatical errors, please point them out so I can exterminate them.
[Equestria, Everfree Castle; 21st of Thaw in the year 489 before Nightmare Moon]
Careful not to disturb its pattern, the alicorn strode around the octagon, inspecting the candles, the runes, the arcane seals. Everything was in place.
She reached out with her mind to inform Him they were ready. “The circle is drawn, the runes are flawless. Shall we proceed?” she asked.
'Perform The Ritual.' The answer came with His usual, unnatural high intensity. It was an unsolved mystery whence it came, but it arrived with precision and imprinted itself into her mind, kin to conscious thought, but not her own.
“Everypony be attentive,” she addressed her followers, slightly raising her voice. “We will now begin as soon as possible.”
Her fellow ponies bowed to the order of their princess, hurrying to finish what final preparations they were engaged in. She sighed heavily. Looking around, it once again struck her she was the only alicorn present, and a sharp pain ran through her chest, as though an icy needle pierced her contracting heart.
So many of my sisters have died...
“Light the candles! Bring the dark crystal.”
Now, there were only two other princesses left. But, well, they—
“Hey, princess! Aren’t we gonna have a party before the ceremony to celebrate everypony’s efforts?”
Her train of thought derailed by the outburst, the great alicorn jumped at the sudden appearance of the joyful and, not to mention, prominently pink pony with the curly mane. She was still not used to that kind of shrillness.
“No, I'm afraid not.” She pulled herself together and focused on the here and now.
“Oh, you don't have to be. Not having a party is boring, not scary.” The mare grinned enthusiastically at her, not in the least perturbed by the princess's refusal.
A little chuckle escaped her. Despite the melancholy-invoking affairs ponies like Diane reminded her of, that one's mood was simply contagious. “I have to admit, though, nothing prevents a party from taking place after the ritual has been successfully performed. In fact, it would be appreciated.”
Her subject smiled up at her. “That's awesome! Thank you so much, princess.”
“It's quite alright, Di. Your efforts to keep everypony's spirits high are most valuable.”
When she turned, however, she noticed something at the corner of her eye and froze. A young unicorn colt with a black mane was prancing along at the other side of the hall. On top of his stubby horn, he was balancing a glass pod containing a single shard of jagged, grey crystal, maybe two hoof widths in length. Wobbling precariously as the youth bounced along, the fragile container seemed only moments away from a disastrous fall. Within the blink of an eye, the alicorn teleported over to him and grabbed the pod before it could fall and shatter. The colt gave a short yelp and dropped down on his rear, looking up to the princess with wide eyes and flattened ears. She sighed, once again. She had been doing that a lot, lately.
“Sombra,” she started with a trace of annoyance, “this is not a valid procedure to transport our only sample of a vile material with mostly unknown and potentially dangerous qualities. I want you to be more attentive and cautious from now on, especially when handling crystals imbued with dark magic.”
“I'm sorry... I... didn't think...” Sombra stuttered, his lips quivering. She had been too forceful, too intense. They were all on edge, these days. She tried took keep the sharpness from her voice as she continued.
“You'll have to change your approach a bit, my little pony. Otherwise, not thinking will get you into real trouble someday.”
“Gee,” Di barged in, “why do we need them mean evil grey scary crystal magic things at all? I don't like them.” She narrowed her eyes at the shard.
“Unfortunately, they act as a nearly irreplaceable catalyst in our ritual. I don't like them, either, but we have no choice but using them.”
“Yes, but, I mean, what do these things even do?”
“The Purpose Of The Ritual Is To Tear A Rift Into The Very Fabric Of Reality, Creating A Portal Which Links This Dimension To Another One.”
The princess was startled. Of course He was nearly always connected to her, sharing many of her thoughts, but He hardly ever started speaking without being addressed first. In fact, He had never joined a conversation of hers before, let alone projected His voice into somepony else's mind.
“This Portal Is Tremendously Unstable By Its Very Nature. In Order To Prevent Catastrophic Surges Of Raw, Uncontrolled Magic, It Has To Be Properly Stabilised. If One Were To Accomplish Such A Feat, They Would Have To Use An Appropriate Spell, A Catalytic Material Or A Specialised Artefact Comparable To, For Instance, A Sigil Stone. As Powerful As Ponykin Are, Given The Currently Available Resources, You Are Not Capable Of Producing The Necessary Magic Output For Simultaneously Opening The Rift And Casting A Proper Stabilisation Spell. Concerning Artefacts, It Is Important To Note That The Concept Of An Interdimensional Portal Is Quite New To Ponykin. Therefore There Are No Known Magical Appliances That Possess The Ability To Stabilise Such A Portal. Hence The Only Solution Is To Use Magic Materials Possessing Qualities That Allow Them To Withstand The Arcane Emissions Of A Rift And Prevent It From Instantaneously Collapsing. Said Crystals, Attuned To The Correct Vibrations, Are The Only Suitable Material Available. Their Purpose Is To Stabilise The Gate, Enable Passage And Save You From Being Lethally Mutated By Fluctuations Of Chaotic Magic.”
“Okey-dokey-lokey!” Diane replied and happily bounced off.
'What A Remarkable Pony. She Is... Different.'
“She's just being Di Pie,” the alicorn put forward. It felt like a feeble explanation, but it was easier to prescribe strangeness to eccentricity than otherwise. “Being happy seems to be her special talent.”
'Most Peculiar. Do Proceed.'
And His voice was silent once again.
The princess carefully placed the glass pod with its vicious content at the centre of the eight-sided star. Her team of seven unicorn conjurers had already gathered around the magic circle. Everypony else had just about left. She slowly trotted over to the octagon's last remaining side to complete the ring of magi. “Let us start the incantation!” she boomed.
The room was now completely silent apart from the constant collective muttering of the eight ponies reciting spells not made by their kind. Brilliant magic radiated from the eight unicorn horns, tinting everything in an eerie, otherworldly light. The runes glowed faintly, pulsing with energy. The candles flickered in the wind of a different world, their flames taking on odd shapes and hues. The sharp, clear noise of breaking glass soared through the thick, heavy air. The pod had shattered, the crystals were growing.
The incantation continued. Other, foreign voices seemed to weave themselves into the choir as the hall gained an unnatural resonance.
Two large crystalline spikes rose from the ground, piercing upwards, forming two columns of dark, grey crystal, sizzling with malicious magic. More crystals sprouted from the pillars, forming a twisted arc. The candles flickered, the ponies chanted. The air rippled. With a deafening burst, the world was torn apart. An expanding, quivering black tear hung inside the circle. It reached out and abruptly widened, hitting its crystalline confines with a sound that sent the dark archway ringing.
A gate of absolute darkness had opened. The ritual had been successful.
Three unicorns collapsed due to the immense exhaustion and mental strain, the remaining looked up and stared into the starless void between the worlds. Something was moving out there.
An eldritch abomination pushed Itself in front of the faceless void. It was twisted, horrid and massive, yet it was impossible to tell whether It was solid, liquid or gaseous, an incomprehensible titan, something pony was not meant to know or see. Its form was not to be defined by fourdimensional space-time, Its colours were not limited to the spectrum of light. Luckily, the empty space transmitted neither sound nor scent, for these would have been equally beyond perception. It had no visible face, in fact nothing that qualified as a specialised body part, still, It was smiling. Maybe it was imagined, maybe it was something about the way It moved, but It seemed to radiate content.
The ponies reacted accordingly. Two unicorns fainted on the spot, one ran off screaming. The last sat down, shaking, wall-eyed, staring at the indescribable Thing. The princess herself froze, mesmerized by the unreal appearance. A part of her was primally afraid, the other simply overwhelmed. She felt as though It was speaking, yet Its voice was lost on her.
The Thing purposefully slithered towards the portal, watching the ponies with an eyeless stare. It reached the gap between the worlds and tried to pass.
The tear in existence buckled and blistered. The doorway of crystal groaned, motes and glimmers of light dancing around edges and creaks, and around each molecular imperfection. A shockwave of raw, unrelenting magic erupted from the portal, vaporising the crystal arch, blowing out the candles, tossing around and blinding everypony with its brilliance.
Part One: The Prophecy, The Princess and The Portal
Chapter One: In Accordance
"That was supposed to be magic? That was a spell, mind you. This is magic."
—Discord, 497 before Nightmare Moon
[Equestria, Canterlot; 23rd of Dusk in the year 1003 after Nightmare Moon]
The Public Security Committee had issued a permit application for a higher budget. They argued that recent events such as the Discord incident explicitly showed that the current expenditure was insufficient. Moreover, the apparent raise in risk had caused a widespread demand for higher loans in particularly endangered positions and a grossly understaffed law enforcement. While it would be only prudent to sign such a permit, it just wasn't that easy. If not introduced properly, such a policy would irritate many political actors. The griffins in particular would feel threatened and interpret it as rearmament. Especially now, when international relations were tense in the wake of the recent changeling invasion of Canterlot.
Celestia reread her letter to the griffin ambassador. Yes, it made her point clear, even though it would take some time until the information had reached the Viceroy of Griffonstone himself and he had convinced himself that this action was necessary and would not endanger the peace between their nations. In the meantime, she would have to inform and win over the public. A few articles on the troubles law enforcement were facing or maybe an interview with a high ranked and popular officer such as Prince Shining Armor would do the deal. She would suggest that to the press—tomorrow. It had already gotten late. Now it was time for the sun to set.
She put away her quill and closed the inkwell. The finished letter folded up and vanished in a flash of her magic. The papers on her desk slid back into their folders and within less than ten seconds, her workplace was in the same orderly state she left it each evening. Turning away from it, she walked outside onto the balcony of her private chambers and closed her eyes. Letting out a calm, slow breath, she called upon her magic, reached down into her deepest reserves that were vast like an ocean of glorious power. Channelling her age-old magic through her horn, she extended her will over thousands of miles, touching the fiery ball that hung in space like an oversized glowing orange without effort and forcing it slowly downwards, to the horizon, further on its way around the planet. Over the centuries, she had found it more and more easy to touch the sun with her mind and raise and set it with her innate magic. At the start of her and her sister's reign, it had taken her hours each day to make sure there actually was such a thing as day. But as time passed, she had not only gotten an insane amount of practice, but also herself grown in power. Nowadays, moving the sun felt little different from moving a limb, and she completed these daily tasks in not much more than a minute each.
For another minute, she just stood there, breathing, relaxing, basking in the light of a beautiful sunset. She allowed herself a smile. Her workday was over and her obligation to lead the country was fulfilled for today. It was time for herself and the things she chose to do. She went back inside and to a small wooden cabinet harmlessly sitting in a corner. It was locked, as it should be, but as soon as she touched it, it swung open, recognizing her as its rightful owner. She levitated out a worn book with a dark green cover, put it on her lectern and opened it. Soon, she had lost herself in reading.
When she heard somepony landing on the balcony she tensed for a moment, but calmed again and even smiled to herself when she felt Luna's welcome presence. Her sister entered her room swiftly, apparently in high spirits.
“Fair greetings, my most marvellous sister. How has thy day been?” Luna noticed that her sister was focusing on reading and a look of surprise appeared on her face. “Huh? I thought you had dispatched of today’s toils by this time?”
“I have, Luna. This is no state affair.” Celestia chuckled quietly. “At least not in the traditional meaning.”
Luna, however, had currently no sense for finesse. “Cease the ridiculous ominousness at once! I shall not stand any unnecessary secrecy,” she declared with mock indignation and walked around the bookrest, lifted the book's side with a hoof and took a peek at its title. Her expression grew questioning, even challenging. “What is the meaning of this?”
“Well, I've decided to—” Celestia started to explain, but Luna promptly interrupted.
“My question was of completely rhetorical nature. While I am certain that you, sister, have reasons for your deeds, there surely must be a better way of achieving whatever you seek than referencing this tome of – how would this generation put it? – mad old Everfree?”
“I appreciate your concern, but as you might have forgotten, this book is the only known scientific work to deal with alicorns in general rather than with us two in particular.” Celestia smiled at her little sister. “Even you can't deny its usefulness.”
But Luna continued to frown at the subject. “But this is the 'Equigenesis' we are speaking about.” She stomped the ground with a silver-clad hoof to emphasize her point. “Its author is whimsical, its contents nonsensical. Simply look at it:”
The occurrence of an alicorn or princess pony, apparently a conglomerate of the three main pony tribes, herefrom be called 'alicornism', is, at its very basis, due to an inheritable genetic defect. Alicornism is a phenotype that arises from the combination of a certain set of alleles with a specific mutation on the twenty-ninth chromosome. Up to present date, only nine cases of this genotype and phenotype are known of.
“'Tis all gibberish! Whoever has heard of this 'chromosome'? What has transmutation to do with whether a pony is an alicorn?”
Princess Celestia's smile faltered slightly, a display of uncertainty she would never show in public. “I don't know, Luna. But even from this excerpt, valuable information can be extracted.”
An eyebrow crept up Luna's forehead, settling down for a rest barely below her hairline. “Would you care to demonstrate, please?”
“Of course. First, Everfree tells us that alicorns are all three types of pony at once. She also describes that 'alicornism' can be inherited and that it is really rare, as she knows of only nine alicorns to ever have existed.”
Luna snorted. “Fine.” A battle had been lost, but the war was not over yet. Her eyes danced from letter to letter, searching for discrediting passages. Their effort was not in vain. “What doest thou make of this?”
I assume the mutation to be incompatible with the Y-chromosome, possibly due to destructive hormone or enzyme reactions, as the observed cases are invariably female and present data does not suggest otherwise.
“All alicorns are mares,” Celestia replied, her expression serene once again.
Princess Luna groaned. She was losing ground, but was not willing to give up and in. Another paragraph came under her searching gaze.
In several cases the thaumic potential of an alicorn is such that it even exceeds the physical capacitive capabilities of its body. This leads to an arcane overflow as the magic energy leaks into the physical realm and contaminates the subject's live tissue. The leaking magic, is however, adjusted to and cophasal with the subject's innate individual frequency spectrum and thus doesn't lead to a pseudochaotic reaction, but rather a mostly beneficial alteration of intra- and intercellular processes. The symptoms of such a state are the following:
All parasitic and pathogenic agents within the organism are terminated.
The subject displays immunity for all toxic, stimulating and sedative substances, save the placebo effect.
Further genetic mutations of the subject's genotype are completely prohibited, leading to an immunity to cancer.
All cells and, by extension, the whole organism, enter a state of insenescence. This can be, but is not necessarily, accompanied by full self-sustenance.
Foetal mortality increases greatly. All surviving foeti necessarily also suffer from alicornism.
Excess magical energy is emitted from all dead filamentous tissue with a length greater than or equal to the wavelength corresponding to the highest frequency in the innate individual frequency spectrum. Hence, the biomaterial loses some of its physical qualities and enters a semimaterial state similar to that of ectoplasm.
The thaumic capacitive capabilities are fortified proportionally to the magnitude of the overflow.
In extreme cases, the thaumostatic charge may render the organism impervious to most physical and resistant to most magical traumata.
She turned back to her sister, a waggish gleam of triumph in her eyes. “What sense do you make of this, sister? Does a leaking alicorn get younger and covered in ghostly goo?”
Celestia chuckled at her sister's colourful imagery. “Not quite. A very magical alicorn will cease to age, will get neither ill nor poisoned and her mane—well, little sister, have you looked into a mirror lately?”
Luna tilted her head, her frown deepening as she connected the dots. After some contemplation, she came up with a reply that channelled her comprehension of the matter at hoof as well as her astonishment and consistent disbelief. “Oh.”
Seeing that her argument had hit home and Luna was on retreat, Celestia advanced further. “And as you might have noticed, we both are very resistant to bodily harm, which as well was predicted by Everfree.”
Luna frowned. She was losing ground, but didn't know why, and that confused her. “Very well, then. Apparently it is established that Everfree might not have been utterly wrong. Still, for what reason do you consult her work?”
“Do you remember the wedding last month?”
“I wish I were there,“ Luna emphatically recalled her failure to protect her subjects. ”For I would not have been hesitant! This impostor would have paid for her boldness!”
“I don't mean that... conundrum.” Celestia pushed the fully fledged invasion by a parasitic hostile species aside with a wave of her gold-clad hoof. “I rather want to draw your attention to the lucky couple.”
Luna's train of thought quickly changed tracks, connecting Celestia's previous statements with her own knowledge of internal affairs. “So... there was an ulterior motive other than love for the captain of your guard joining into the ranks of royalty?”
Celestia smiled. “Indeed.” Then she dropped the metaphoric bomb. “I want to make my student a princess, and the wedding will ease the difficulties nobility might have accepting her as such by establishing her as a noble beforehand.”
Luna blinked.
“Of course I would have agreed to the marriage anyway, but it fit really well to my plans for Twilight,” Princess Celestia added.
Luna blinked again. And regained her speech. “Thou wantest to crown Twilight Sparkle a princess? But such is impossible! While dearest Twilight Sparkle is certainly a very noble pony, she still is a unicorn, not a princess.”
“Which is exactly why I need Everfree's findings on alicorns. Would you look at this passage?”
It is theoretically possible to magically induce alicornism in any pony by simply altering the genetic make-up of every single cell, growing (if not present) permanent horn and wings, adding the innate magic of the two non-present tribal phenotypes appropriate to the patient, stimulating a harmonious resonance effect resulting in translinear magic amplification, harmonising the three types of magic to the patient's innate individual frequency spectrum and catalysing the conjoined earth pony, pegasus and unicorn magic into hybrid alicorn magic.
“Of course,” Luna deadpanned. “Why wouldn't I think of such a thing. Sincerely, though, how could one perform such a feat?”
Instead of giving an answer, Celestia turned to the book again, skimming the narrow hoofwriting without result. When she turned the page however, her eyes fell upon the most unlikely text she had seen in decades. Luna came closer to find out what had caused her sister's jaw to slacken and stared at the page. The entire double page was filled with neat runes and accurate little diagrams, only the numerous little annotations were written in ordinary Equestrian. There, devised more than eleven centuries ago, was a spell, enthralling in its elegance and sheer detail.
“Methinks this is so implausibly convenient that it is downright suspicious. It is indeed very acute and complex, as is to be expected, but the amount of power it would require to cast this spell is ridiculously small. It can't possibly work.”
“It says here that the pony who is to become an alicorn has to be overcharged with a great amount of free magic in order for the spell to work. As it appears, it just directs the power stored within the pony.” Celestia pointed out a small paragraph aside an exponential graph.
“How great an amount of magic?”
Celestia glanced at the paragraph, again. “According to book, up to 1.5MRi of magical potential, depending on the pony.” At the blank look her sister gave her, she added apologetically “I am afraid I do not know what that means, Luna. From what I gather, it appears to be at least equivalent to the combined magic of several thousand unicorns as Everfree notes that you might need legions of magi to provide enough magic to sustain the transformation.”
“Tia, I wonder...” She looked into her elder sister's eyes, gazing into their purplish depths thoughtfully. “What is the true extent of our power? Can we turn a pony into an alicorn?”
Princess Celestia bowed her head and reconsidered the spell whilst glancing down the carpet beneath her hooves. It was old, made nearly seven centuries ago by a truly talented mare as a present personally for her, the princess. Realizing that her mind was wandering off to dead friends from a distant past, she swiftly returned to the present. “I'm unsure whether I entirely understand how it works, but I really think this spell here could turn a pony into an alicorn.”
“That is not my concern,” Luna retorted. “I'm not troubled by the dubiety of this spell, but rather by the question whether it is within our general capability to do so. Surely, any of us could grow a pony wings and a horn, maybe grant them magic just like any accomplished wizard can turn an apple into an orange. Our point is that the orange would not truly be an orange and the wings and horn would still be spellcraft. The orange, for instance, will look, feel, smell and taste like one, but any scholar of the arcane can tell thee that it is an apple that a spell is placed on. A counterspell would confirm this by restoring the original shape and properties of the apple.” Celestia slowly nodded, understanding where Luna was getting at. “It is, theoretically, possible to effectively change the very essence of an apple, altering matter itself so that it truly would be an orange without any hex remaining on it. However, the only working spells of such a kind are those used to transform simple materials in a limited way, serving many a craftspony to create her goods. Nopony has the power to completely alter something's nature in such a drastic way,” Luna finished.
Ever so slowly, a quiet, but nevertheless delighted smile spread on Celestia's lips. Luna knew that expression. It meant that Celestia just had an idea she liked very much. “I think you are right. No pony can turn another into an alicorn,” Celestia confirmed. Then her smile widened slightly. “But the Elements of Harmony can.”
Luna could not help but roll her eyes. “Aren't these thine answer to everything?”
Celestia utterly ignored her and instead strode over to the little cabinet sitting in its corner, its door leaning slightly open. Her horn flared in a warm golden light as a grey, old notebook floated out of the cabinet and towards Luna, who caught it in her magic. “What is this?”
“This is the long-lost journal of Star Swirl the Bearded. I discovered it after the end of the civil war. In it, he describes a spell that can be used to harness the power of the Elements.”
Luna stared at her sister in awe. “Star Swirl's journal?! Tia, what treasures didst thou uncover in our absence?” She quickly flipped it open, searching for the spell Celestia had mentioned.
“Star Swirl knew neither what the Elements were nor how they operated, yet he recognised them as a paragon of power and strived to use that power for the good of all ponies. However, he never succeeded,” Celestia explained.
Luna, who had found the spell, nodded in agreement. “Indeed. This spell will not work. So, what is this supposed to tell me?”
“A magician with keen knowledge of the magic of harmony and friendship may be able to rewrite the spell. Still, the Elements of Harmony can only be used together, and only by their bearers.”
Luna blinked, her ears perking up. “So you want Twilight to devise a spell that will allow her to access the magic of the Elements in order to ascend to the status of a princess,” she concluded.
“Yes,” Celestia confirmed.
“It... might just work,” Luna said, but then corrected herself upon recognising Celestia's idea as feasible. “It can most definitely.”
“So you agree with me, Luna?”
Princess Luna shook her head and closed the notebook. “Nay. Just because we can make Twilight Sparkle a princess it does not mean we should make her one perforce.”
Celestia raised an eyebrow. “I'm listening.”
“It is beyond doubt that Twilight Sparkle is a heroic and great pony. She has saved Equestria from the clutches of nightmares, changelings and chaos. Her devotion and friendship are unquestionable. She is a most kind and intelligent young mare as well as, I presume, a wonderful and faithful student. Nonetheless, a hero does not make laws, devotion cannot discern between right and wrong, a good friend is not necessarily a good leader. There is more to a princess than loyalty and kindness,” Luna explained calmly. “Twilight Sparkle is a wonderful pony and I hold her dear in my heart. But she has yet to prove that she has what it takes to be a capable ruler.”
“I see.” Celestia nodded. “I have total confidence in Twilight and am positive that she will be able to prove herself when given the opportunity. And it will be given, be it only for your sake. Still, you have a point and it is a good one.”
Luna raised a hoof to interrupt her sister. “Say no more, sister. Tell me, do you trust her completely?”
“I do.” Her sister smiled, wondering whether her vote of confidence had changed Luna's mind.
“You are certain that she will be a great princess?”
“Indeed I am.”
“You love her like your own flesh and blood?” Luna asked further.
“Yes.” Slowly, Celestia was beginning to get irritated by the continuous questions Luna threw at her.
“I remember you telling me she has the greatest raw ability you have ever seen in a unicorn. Is that true?”
“ Yes. Luna, where are you getting at?” Celestia frowned.
“You have known her for her whole life and practically raised her?” Luna continued without reacting to her counterquestion.
“I have. What is your point?” Celestia asked, her frown deepening.
“Do you not see the parallels? Do you not see who she is like?” Luna asked, her voice quivering in agitation.
Celestia sighed. “She is like a daughter to me. Is that what you mean?”
“Celestia, she is like me!” A hint of desperation clung to Luna's voice. “She is like young, sweet, joyful little Luna who gave in to woe and became corrupted by darkness.”
Celestia head reared back and her eyes widened. “Twilight would never—”
“You did not expect me to turn on you, either. Cannot thou see what I see?” Luna interrupted her bitterly.
All blood was now gone from Celestia's cheeks. If her coat had not been a stainless white, she would actually have paled slightly. “I... understand. I would have never even considered—”
“It might just be me getting royally paranoid once again,” Luna declared, “but I consider the risk too great to ignore.”
“No, you're right. I should have seen it. Especially I should know that power, desire, grief, even knowledge, really any kind of strong mental strain, can turn anypony into a monster.” Celestia's expression darkened. “Becoming a princess would put Twilight under quite some stress, making her susceptible to such negative influences.”
“The problem about Twilight is that if she turns evil, there will be nearly no way of stopping her lest we use violence since she is the Element of Magic. Her friends would be unable and not willing to use the Elements against her. As I take it, you using the Elements to banish the Nightmare was what caused our connection to the Elements of Harmony to fail. Do you recognise the true danger of the Element of Magic turning against us?”
“Even if she is stopped, which means either banishing or—killing her” – Celestia winced internally – “the Elements would be powerless once again. Sooner or later, Discord would break free once again, possibly before the Elements have accepted new bearers.”
Luna grinned. “Which means we can ridden us of two problems at once by performing one simple task. We can give ourselves means to defeat any mad princess while disposing of the threat of Discord once and for all!”
Taken aback by her sister's sudden enthusiasm, Celestia failed to retort verbally, but instead communicated her scepticism through her facial expression.
“We reform him!” Luna happily exclaimed.
Staring at Luna in disbelief, Celestia stammered “Y-you cannot be serious.”
Luna chuckled lightly and Celestia realized she had been had. After thousand years without her sister, she was still used to nopony daring to attempt such a thing. “Of course not.” Luna got serious again. “I still doubt Twilight should be made princess at all. Such a course of action appears ridiculous to me.”
Princess Celestia of Equestria had the feeling the conversation was somehow going in circles. Why wouldn't Luna even consider the possibility of Twilight living up to her high expectations? “And what if, hypothetically, Twilight proved to be worthy of the position?” she asked wearily.
“Then” – Luna turned her muzzle upwards dignifiedly – “my suggestion to reform Discord would albeit be a serious one. A foe he may be, imprisoning him just delays a fight that cannot be won by force. So why not fight it whilst we can control its terms? There might not come a time when the odds are as much in our favour once again,” she pointed out. Reasoning this final statement concluded the argument, she quickly added a question, depriving her sister of the satisfaction of having the last word. “By the way, sister mine, methinks thou hast mentioned that knowledge can corrupt a pony's mind, turning them evil. Would you care to explain this phenomenon?”
Celestia decided to drop the issue of Twilight for now. Luna could not be convinced by words alone, but when Twilight had proven herself to be capable, her line of argument would falter. Pushing these thoughts aside, she nodded. “With pleasure. I take it you know of the circumstances of the civil war that followed Nightmare Moon's banishment?”
Luna idly scratched her chin, recalling what she had read on ancient history. “If I recall correctly, this conflict, while at first peaceful, at one point broke out into open violence between several opposing factions, costing many dear lives. Our ponies were divided between those that believed I had turned to evil and had rightfully been banished, those that believed thou had turned to evil and spitefully imprisoned me, those that believed both of us were vile tyrants that had waged a war for total control, and even those who believed things had been better under the rule of chaos, I believe.”
“That is true. However, few know the cause that started the fights. It was a mare who thought herself blessed with the gift of foresight. Whatever she thought she knew, true or not, turned her insane. She and her followers, an occult order of some kind, rose up against me, sparking a conflict that lasted for twelve long years. This mare, today barely remembered as The Necromancer, was corrupted by her knowledge not only of what she believed to be the future, but also of the dark arts, of black magic that would enslave the dead. I remember seeing those that had fallen by her hooves rise again under her command...” She shook her head in sadness, bowing low. “No grief had stricken that mare that I know of. Her evil wholly came from knowledge she should not have possessed.” Celestia rose up high again, facing her sister, who was looking at her with wide eyes.
“Pray tell, what happened to her?”
While she had anticipated the question, the answer still hurt. “I have always tried to show kindness to those that oppose me, although fate has not always allowed me to do so.” She sighed. “With some, I could not have mercy.”
Part One: The Prophecy, The Princess and The Portal
Chapter Two: Shadows
[Equestria, Everfree Castle; 21st of Thaw in the year 489 before Nightmare Moon]
While the smoke was clearing away, the princess tried to recall what had just happened.
The ritual had been successful, the dimensional gate had opened. Then this monstrous Thing had shown up, causing the whole set-up to explode.
She looked at the pitiful remains of the magic circle. At its centre, where the portal had been just minutes ago, was a smouldering crater. The candles had all gone out, some had been toppled by the arcane surges. Glistering rime and iridescent smears of some unknown condensate had formed along the edges of the etched runes and lines. A large, jagged crack in the floor split the octagon into two unequal halves.
Above it floated a formless shape of dark vapour and shadows. Waning and fading, it was a mass of writhing tendrils of darkness on the brink between there and not. Yet set into the ethereal being's central bulk were two eyes like pieces of white-hot burning coal. It stared at the alicorn as if it wanted to count every single hair in her coat, making her feel naked, though not like she was not wearing anything, which was the case, but like her skin was translucent, exposing everything inside her to the relentless stare of this shadow.
“Apparently, The Procedure Was Just Partly Successful,” it remarked in a silent, echoing voice. “Something Tried To Avert My Arrival.”
“Are you—?” she gasped.
“Indeed. Given These Circumstances, I Am Unable To Exert A Sufficient Amount Of Power. I Will Have To Be Amplified.”
“But how...? What—?”
“Simple. Possession. I Only Require A Suitable Host.”
“Are... are you Him who we intended to summon?” At last, the princess managed to form a proper question.
“I Am—And I Seem To Have Forgotten How Slow Mortals React In Intense Situations. Let Me Explain The Course Of Events.” It contorted, pulsed in irritation. “A Being Of Power, Which I Already Have Identified, Has Prevented Me From Physically Entering This Dimension. However, This Embodiment Of My Will Has Passed The Gate Or, Rather, Formed Past The Gate. In Order To Gain Enough Power To Find A Way To Create A Rift Sufficiently Stable For Me To Enter Equestria In Full Power, I Will Take Over Somepony's Body And Capabilities. As A Matter Of Fact, You Are Just Optimal.”
The umbral manifestation wafted, stretching across the room in long, thick streams of darkness, quickly reaching and engulfing her. Before she could react, the semi-material being seeped into her and for a second the cold dread she felt was replaced with a feeling of immense power pulsing through her veins and oozing through her flesh. Burning determination filled her heart, and a veil lifted in her mind, opening up ways of thought never tread before. Confidence expanded in her chest, jubilant and triumphant like a phoenix rising from the ashes. Then the wonderful feeling was gone, and a second presence unravelled inside her head. With new-found terror she watched and felt how a mind utterly different from hers pushed her self aside with its psychic weight, took control of her muscles and raised her head.
Oddly enough, the presence felt somehow familiar. She mentally trembled with realization. Him... the portal... the thing... it all makes sense now. How could I not see this?
Although she had always been wondering about the true nature of the strange being that had so unexpectedly offered His help, she had not expected anything like this. When He first contacted her, He had dismissed any question about who or what He was, stating He was 'Beyond Such Simple Terms' and it shouldn't concern her. It was hard to get used to the thought she had relied so much on an unspeakable alien, even if desperation had fuelled her actions. And now He had, without apparent effort, taken control of her.
The mind that was not hers convulsed forcefully, spewing out an endless string of abstract memetic constructs that circulated through her body, gathering omnipresent traces of what seemed to be magic. Through a taxing and quite unpleasant process, He extracted magic from her, her magic. As it flowed into Him, He formed it into a complex pattern while intermingling it with his own, processing it into odd forms. The strange shape grew as He added more and more energy. When the completely imaginary structure began to move on its own, He propelled it outwards and she suddenly understood it was a spell, but unlike any that she knew.
Her head burned like it was filled with fire as the foreign magic pulsed through it and, at last, exited.
A thick, pulsating beam of magic erupted from her horn, piercing the ceiling and the heavens. For a few seconds it hung between the earth and the sky, a swirling pillar of light. Then it widened, bright magic flooding everything. The world went white for a moment, then the light faded.
'A Dislocation Spell,' He explained. 'It Prevents Ponies From Tracking Us Down Using The Thaumic Fallout From The Portal Breakdown By Simply Causing Widespread Noise. However, The Hybrid Magic Will Have Been Sensed By All Magic Users Within Approximately 1432.4 Kilometres, With, At Some Points, Up To 141.3 Kilometres Deviation Due To Difference In The Local Magical Field. This Means That About 98% Of All Sentient Magical Creatures In The Vicinity Know I Cast This Spell And You Aided Me.'
Still somewhat confused, she asked, voice full of doubt, “But they won't find us, right? Whoever prevented you from entering won't be able to track you and, by extension, me, down.”
'For The Moment, At Least,', the Alien One replied. 'We Will Still Be Found, Probably In Less Than Three Days, But I Should Have Bought Us Enough Time.'
She remained puzzled. “Time for what?”
'Time For A Plan To Be Made.' He communicated the telepathic equivalent of smirking. The princess found the notion of an extradimensional being's mind feeling as if it was smirking while being encased in her very skull rather odd, if not downright disturbing. 'Nonetheless, I Do Require More Information. I Will Need Full Access To Your Memory.'
She hesitated slightly, but since reason told her it was really not a good idea to fight with somepony living next to her brain, she opened to Him and let Him access everything she knew.
A pony's memory might be comparable to a book. At one point it begins and then goes chronologically on and on with a varying density of content until it finally reaches its end, which is, in the case of a pony's memory, the present. If you were to read a book, you would have different possibilities how to do so. A very easy way would be to start at the beginning and read everything until you reached the end. You could also skip any boring parts. Alternatively, you could read the end first and then the rest. Or you could start somewhere in the middle, read up to the end, then go back to the beginning and read up to the point where you started reading. You might even read the whole thing backwards.
When He scanned the alicorn's memory with the thoroughness of a greedy dragon accounting its hoard, He didn't do any of the aforementioned. To begin with, He started at multiple places at once, absorbing different parts of her life simultaneously. Moreover, He didn't just work himself linearly through her past, but jumped back and forth, constantly changing orientation, like a swarm of fruit bats fighting over an orange.
At first, it deemed her chaotic, but soon she thought she could recognize parts of a complex algorithm that efficiently avoided redundancies, compensated oddities and allowed the data to be quickly sorted and categorized. It took Him less than two minutes to process the 476 years of life she had lived. She performed one of the standard reactions to having a complete download of your brain.
The alicorn fainted.
/.o.0.O.0.o.\
They strode towards the small pile of gems and metal scrap He had asked for. While he started to assemble something He called an 'Operative Core', they finally had a chance to talk.
“What purposes do these devices serve?” she referred to the various construction drafts.
After a moment of silence, He replied, His unearthly voice reverberating through her mind. 'Well, Most Of Them Are Part Of A Big Assembly Of Machines I Would Like To Call An “Arcane Field Data Measurement And Processing Plant” Or, In Short, “AFDMAPP”. It Should Be Capable Of Processing About 50 TB/s Over A Running Time Of Up To 1750 Years At A Peak Performance of Nearly 100 TFLOPS. It Will Help Ponies To Determine Whether My Plan Is Actually Working After I Am Gone.'
“Gone? What do you mean, gone?” she asked, confused about the latter statement.
'Yes. I Already Told You That There Are Forces Searching For Me. The Spell I Cast Will Only Delay Discovery. Being Eventually Discovered Is Inevitable. These Acquaintances Of Mine Can Be' – He didn't click His nonexistent tongue – 'Quite Malevolent. We Will Most Certainly Be Killed.'
“We will most certainly be killed?!” she repeated with shock.
This whole thing was supposed to help my little ponies. I mustn't fail!
He replied with the enthusiasm of a noble unicorn conversing with a common earth pony. 'It Is The Outcome Of 87.43% Of All Possible Scenarios. Do Not Be Upset. If All Goes As Planned, We Will Only Be Permanently Incapacitated.'
“But what about my subjects?”
He only treated her with silence. With a feeling of utter defeat she returned her attention to her senses and the physical world. Just as He could push her self aside, she had discovered she could retreat deeper into her mind, shielding her from her own perceptions, which were almost painfully sharp under the influence of His mind and magic. It was an odd feeling to just let go of her body an have Him be in charge of her senses. It was frighteningly easy, too.
The materials had been assembled to a geometrically perfect crystal of multiple, mismatched colours, strands of metal spreading throughout the inside. It was about as large as a pony, but long and thin. She shivered as He tapped her deeper reserves of magic again, directing the massive beam of arcane energy directly into the gem phylactery. The gems deformed and merged, welded together, creating a single, perfect, colourless parallelepiped containing a filigrane and complex web of tiniest wires and irregular structures.
He used her voice to order a group of unicorns to perform a specific channelling spell on it.
She was slowly recovering from the tiresome use of magic and the revelation of a possible terrible fate in the foreseeable future. “What are they supposed to do?”
'One Of The Operative Core's Multiple Functions Is To Store Magic Energy. It Needs It To Operate, So It Obviously Requires To Be Charged First.'
That strange notion caught her interest. “It's an artefact that doesn't have power on its own, but instead can store and use up magic?”
'Indeed. Moreover, Upon Activation It Is Able To Run Without A Supervising Pony Operator. Apart From A Periodic Supply Of New Energy, It Will Not Depend On Any Maintenance.'
She somehow didn't like the sound of this. “So it works on its own? Exactly how much energy goes into it?”
'The Complementary Crystal Structure Patterns Allow The Core To Store An Amount Of Arcane Energy Sufficient To Send The Equivalent Of Two Ponies To The Moon,' He proudly proclaimed.
“That seems to be quite a lot for an unattended—What is it actually supposed to do?”
'It Will Serve As Both A Power Supply As Well As A Central Processing Unit For The AFDMAPP.'
“It serves as what? What kind of magic is this?” It all sounded Pegasopolian to her.
'The Basic Magic Behind It Is Just A Stable Periodic Oscillation, Which Then Interacts With A Set Of Logic Gates And Temporary Variables To Create An Automaton That Processes Measured Data Into Binary Code And Executes Algorithms To Manipulate These Data Patterns.' He made it sound like it was the most simple thing in Equestria. It wasn't. 'The Actual Tricky Part Was To Find A Way To Modify These Basic Components So That They Could Be Created Efficiently And Would Respond To A Sufficiently High Frequency. The Tasks The Operative Core Is Designated To Require A Fair Amount Of Calculative Power, After All.'
The explanation was impressive, yet completely lost on her. “So,” she started; hesitated, “This 'core' is some kind of animated crystal abacus?”
'It Is Rather To Be Described As A Magic Crystal Brain To Which Mechanic Sensory Equipment Can Be Attached.' As she wanted to make a remark, he flatly added 'No, It Will Not Be Sentient. Nor Will It Go Mad And Try To Take Over Equestria.'
“Excuse me, Your Highness,” an approaching pony interrupted their conversation. “The blacksmith claims he's followed Your orders and asks You to come.” She could only give her subject a blank stare for a second, then regained her regal posture.
“Very well. Thank you for delivering his message.” She walked out of the great hall, trying to dismiss her dark thoughts.
/.o.0.O.0.o.\
[Equestria, Everfree Castle; 17th of Dawn in the year 1004 after Nightmare Moon]
The darkness never changed. Nearly everything else had, but not the darkness. After all these years, it was still there, inside him, around him. Not that he lacked light, though. It was just a different kind of darkness, one you couldn't scare away with a lamp or two. This darkness clung to your heart, crawled down your spine and pulsed below your hooves. It was etched into the stone walls and seeped through the ceiling like a constant trickle of black water. It filled his mouth when he ate and his lungs when he breathed.
When he had first felt it dripping out of the cold, moist earth surrounding him, he had been terrified. But seven decades in the darkness had helped him accommodate. The darkness had been company after his father had passed away. It was faceless and cold, yet calm and consolatory, infinitely better than the disturbing, commanding whispers of the voices.
Recently, during the last four years, the darkness had become more than just silent company, it had even become kin to a friend. It soothed him when the voices spoke. It calmed him when the machines went berserk. The last years had been full of loud turmoil and he now appreciated the black silence between the screams.
The darkness, the silence and the routine kept him at ease.
He continued mopping down the corridor, which was lit by dim fluorescent horizontal lines that winded along the walls, his paranoia reduced to just a light tingle. The splashing and squelching of the mop mixed with the silence and the feeble humming and metallic ticking of the distant machines to an unstable rhythm, the heartbeat of his life.
Never faltering in his slow pace, he made it to the core chamber, cleaning the once-even floor in his wake. At the heavy vault door, he stopped. He hated that room. But, alas, the floor wouldn't mop itself. He pressed his hoof against the cold metal door, feeling the darkness in it. It swung open without a sound, allowing him to enter.
As he stepped inside, he glanced up at the exposed machinery spreading through the chamber like a bizarre jungle of metal plants. Pipes, thick as tree trunks, erupted from the ceiling and the walls, covered in wires that hung down like vines, piercing pumps and filters, an unnatural flora forged by ponies, not grown in the light of the sun. The humming was stronger here, originating from the large crystal floating over the circular set of control panels at the centre of the room.
How he hated it!
He hated the way the crystal faintly glowed. He hated how it was magically suspended in the air. He hated the sparks flashing deep inside it. He hated its plain efficiency. Its light wasn't strong, but it felt like a star in a jar, pure, free of the darkness that comforted him. The unbridled brightness represented everything that tormented him, that very crystal was responsible for all the trouble in the past years. Yet, without it, he wouldn't have anything to live for. He fed the crystal his magic, the crystal kept the machines going, he cleaned and maintained the machines. That was his life, down here, hidden from Celestia's scorching eye.
He turned away from the gem and resumed cleaning the floor, quietly cursing himself. He'd done it again. It just kept happening nowadays and he wasn't fully sure what to do about it. From time to time, he'd find himself standing and staring at something, doing nothing, lost in thought or memory. It hadn't really become a problem yet, even though his chores took more and more time and in spite of him working less hard, he got more and more tired.
His horn glowed in its pale light as he plunged the mop into the bucket of water, washing away the dust it had collected from the ground.
It wouldn't be that bad at all if it weren't for his uneasy sleeping. He kept having nightmares on a regular basis. One time, just a few months after it all had started, she had visited him in his dreadful dreams. It had only made everything worse. When she had come to him, the voices noticed. In his dreams, they had been able to take shape. Shivering, he remembered the unspeakable horror that had followed. There were things that could be neither comprehended nor forgotten. In the end, she had fled the onslaught of the bizarre echoes.
He levitated a moist rag of cloth to polish the metal insignia on the wall and make the inscription shine in the dim light.
This facility is completed in memory of Princess Everfree in the 127th year After Discord's Defeat under the reign of Princess Celestia of the Sun and Princess Luna of the Moon 326 years before the ascent of The Nightmare by Pillar Base Third Listener to The Watcher
For a moment, he paused and envied the Listeners of old. They'd the ability to tell the future, most of them commanded powerful magic unrivalled among unicorns and they had been able to do something with their life other than sitting deep down in the bowels of the earth and cleaning floors that were worn and torn by the centuries that had passed.
Today, the ancient order was even less than a pitiful misery when compared to the old times of glory when there had been a hierarchy with the Listener on top, dozens of acolytes willing to join the service of the Watcher, political influence, wealth, tasty food and fresh, comfortable beds. He groaned when he thought about today's dinner: plump helmets, again. He had those icky mushrooms coming out of his ears by now.
Even worse, these days, not only the order was in bad shape, the world was, too. There had been six catastrophic events in less than four years while there had been just one in the three hundred years before that and that one had been only thirteen years ago.
He tried to pull himself together. There was no reason for self-pity. He wasn't some insignificant twenty-seventh Listener somewhere in-between. He was the final one, the Last Listener to The Watcher. He was the one to fulfil the prophecies and bring centuries worth of work to fruition. For that, he had faced all the hardship and challenges he had encountered since the not-day about four years ago.
His face fell, his motivation was gone. The not-day.
"The Nightmare will be defeated | by her sister's hooves | and banished into the Moon. The stars will aid in her escape | as Nightmare Moon shall return | on the longest day of the thousandth year. A star guided by the sun | will assemble the six | and end the night eternal."
—Sand Song, 483 before Nightmare Moon, translated by Goodwyrm, 7 after Nightmare Moon
[Equestria, Everfree Castle; 1st of Summer Solstice in the year 1000 after Nightmare Moon]
“Attention, please! Attention! This is an emergency!”
The magic voice echoed through the forsaken halls, waking up the old stallion sleeping in his cell. His eyes fluttered open, his eyes darted around in confusion.
“Attention! This is an emergency! This is a pre-recorded message!”
He groaned and sat up, shaking his head to get rid of the remaining sleepiness as the synthetic voice blared on.
“An anomaly has been detected. All facility associates are to remain calm and wait for instructions.”
A short but ear-splitting burst of static noise interrupted the announcement while the automated systems chose the next bit of their tedious message.
“Sunrise is one hour overdue according to schedule.” -static- “This event is occurring as scheduled by the schedule. There is no reason to panic.” -static- “This event is part of the scheduled return of Nightmare Moon.” -static- “Prediction correlation ratio is 98.1%.” -static- “Please receive instructions from the current communication executive. The current communication executive is encouraged to contact the chief schedule supervisor for direction. If there is currently no communication executive available, feel free to panic.” -static- “This has been a pre-recorded message. Thank you for your attention.”
He lost no time and got up, glanced at the note pinned to the wall, skimmed through the instructions for the spell that the Listeners had been using for centuries to commune with the Watcher. Recalling how to cast it, he closed his eyes and focused on the ancient magic that connected him to the voices. After a brief mental struggle, his horn flared with magic and slowly, the whispers began. They started off as a distant sound, then grew, faint echoes joining soundless utterances until they became the silent murmuring of an uneasy crowd. From amidst the mumbling masses, a small choir rose, solemnly overpowering the whispers with calm force.
'Speak, mortal.'
He shivered. “Nightmare Moon has returned as foretold.”
He hated this form of communication. He never knew what the other side actually received, but he was sure the other side knew perfectly well what he received. He silently suspected it to work as some kind of one-way window.
'What is the prediction correlation ratio?'
“About ninety-eight percent.”
'Good. Access the mandatory participant observation room. I will need you to take some readings.'
In silence, he hurried along the clean corridors until he finally reached the door he was looking for. The room behind it was not particularly large or impressive. It was shaped like a regular decagon and bare apart from the walls, which were covered in steel and plastered with gauges, lamps, meters, counters, indicators and all sorts of displays for various kinds of variables. Every display was accompanied by a small label etched into the steel and featuring a unique identification code. One side of the room was occupied by the door, the remaining were all marked by a larger label and a red notification light. Most of the lights were dark.
'Check the notification lights. Are any of them burning?'
“E4 and L are on,” he informed the voices.
'What does E4-B-CA indicate?'
“E4-B-CA, E4-B-CA... ,” he muttered, scanning the labels until he found a rather strange indicator. “Er—smiling face, crotchet, tree, blank, blank, blank,” he listed the pictograms.
'So it has already come to this. You do not have much time, so I will not repeat these orders. First, get to the relic storage and fetch the big sculpture labelled “Elements of Harmony (1-5)”. Carry it to the surface, drape some plant matter on it and place it in the middle of the entrance hall. Now head to the Lunar throne room, which is in the ruins of the northern tower, and hide. If you have done that I will give you a spell to cast. Go now.'
He wobbled through the facility as fast as his old legs would carry him. He was a little confused and scared, but, for the most part, excited.
Back then, it had been a welcome change from the routine of boredom and he had embraced it as his own small adventure. How foolish he had been.
The relic storage was not very big, but nonetheless gave off a hint of grandeur. If you passed the twenty ton stone door, you'd find yourself in a round domed chamber featuring racks and cases on the floor and shelves and niches in the walls. Everything was minutely labelled, even the things that were missing, as some empty spots attested. An empty mannequin resided alongside a heavy lead coffin engraved with runes of binding, a high shelf groaned under the weight of forbidden works that included ancient prophecies, dark rituals and colourful drawings. At the centre of the room, right under the everlit chandelier that illuminated the room stood the most ancient of all relics, the mysterious Elements of Harmony, five stone orbs placed on a great stand of the same material. They contained a power that could level mountains, cause storm floods and earthquakes and then undo them in the blink of an eye. Sadly, they were inert ever since the day their former wielders had turned against each other and their mystical bond to the Elements had been severed and broken, turning the Elements to grey stone.
In this room stood the old Listener on his quest given him by voices he heard inside his head. He sent a reproachful glance to the skull of a pony that had long been dead when Nightmare Moon first reared her head. Then he turned away, focusing on the task at hoof and enthusiastically wrapped his telekinetic grasp around the Elements of rock. Naturally, they were heavy like hell, which turned his attempts to gracefully carry them somewhere into a desperate struggle that involved the lopsided sculpture grinding across the floor, which in turn caused some ugly scratches in the latter.
It took him almost twenty minutes to finally reach the surface, where he quickly gathered some moss and vines to conceal the fact that the sculpture had been polished on a monthly basis. The order, or rather what was left of it, was a secret after all and everything had to look like the most powerful artefact in Equestria had just been lying around somewhere in a forest without anypony bothering or searching for them. That would at least be the official story.
When he dragged the most improbably inconvenient item into the ruins of the main hall, where all Listeners had been initiated, he heard, not too far away, a mare shout “Rainbow!”
That was strange, he had to admit. Why would anypony shout 'rainbow' in the middle of the night / sunless day / you name it?
'They are here. Hurry!' The voices returned with unyielding force.
Frantic, desperate and sweating he pushed the Elements inside the concentric circles on the floor that marked – something important. It had happened long ago. It was the reason why all Listeners shouldered the burden of the voices right here, just as he had nearly eighty years ago. Whatever. As he turned to head for the Lunar throne room, he heard hooves clattering up the front stairs, approaching the gate. He froze in dread. He would be seen, there was no time to get away!
The voices swelled to a tide, a chanting tide that uttered an incantation with unfathomable force. Instinctively, he joined the verse, washed away by the torrent of words. As he finished the spell, his own shadow rose up and swallowed him. For a moment, all was darkness. Everything was gone, it what was all that was left. There was no where, there was no when, there was only darkness. It was in him and around him, it was eternal and absolute. At that time, he first welcomed the darkness as a friend, a friend that had saved him.
He released a quiet sigh of melancholy when he stepped out of the shadows behind the great seat in the Hall of the Moon, which has served as a throne room for the Lunar Diarch in days gone by. For a second, he hesitated, his eyes searching the long hall. Then, he dodged behind one of the wide, plant-infested pillars.
“Er – O great and old Watcher, thy humble servant hath courtfully fulfilled thine request.”
'Shut your trap and cast this spell.'
The trick in question proved to be a quite tricky one. After he tried the spell for the second time, his left ear went deaf and his left eye went blind, both accompanied by a numb pounding and a weak, throbbing pain in the respective body parts. He wanted to panic, but the whispers didn't let him.
'That was supposed to happen. The spell worked as intended. You are not permanently crippled, at least not more than before. You merely lent me an ear. And an eye, obviously.'
A shriek echoed through the undefined time of day, followed by multiple ponies exclaiming “Twilight!” in spite of the moon hanging boldly in the middle of the dark sky.
'Calm now, we have to watch out that nothing goes wrong.'
With a burst of smoke and light in the centre of the room. Peeking around the column and through the dissipating swirls, the Listener saw that two ponies had teleported into the throne room. One was a young purple unicorn sprawled out on all fours, the other was a great black alicorn clad in light armour, Nightmare Moon. The five useless rocks of Harmony floated around her in mid-air. He frowned. For what little he knew of things to come, he knew that these very artefacts were to vanquish the Nightmare once again. So, what was she doing with them?
Nightmare Moon chuckled very evilly and lightning danced around her. The unicorn, however, didn't seem very impressed by this inadequate use of high voltage. As soon as she got on her hooves again, she struck a menacing pose and lowered her horn, preparing to charge. The Nightmare, however, didn't seem very fond of this display of bravery. “You're kidding. You're kidding, right?”
For once, the Listener couldn't help but agree. No mortal had any hopes of taking on Nightmare Moon horn to horn. This was madness!
The brave mare charged with a grunt of determination, magical energy building up at the tip of her horn. Nightmare Moon started moving as well, though with a very bored expression. The former and the latter approached each other in full gallop, horns directed at each other, the two of them heading towards a crash that would undoubtedly result in a dead unicorn and an alicorn complaining about blood stains on her coat. The crash of course never came. In the last moment, the purple filly blinked out of existence. The Listener's searching eye quickly found her at the other side of the room, next to the throne, amidst the cold stone spheres that laid on the ground.
'Ha! Outfooled.' The rumbling sea of whispers sounded almost like applause.
“Just one spark!” The unicorn stooped down to the inert artefacts, her horn again shining with magic. “Come on, come on...”
'What the hay does she think she is doing?'
The stone orbs began to glow as well.
'Simple resonance effect. I already know that you are an Element, girl, so get the other Elements and activate them together. Pity she cannot hear me.'
Nightmare Moon landed in front of the unicorn, who was sent flying across the room. Whatever had happened had been to fast for him to make out. The Elements still crackled with residue oscillations, which somehow made the Nightmare totally lose it.
“No. No!” She wildly eyed the stones down at her hooves.
When the magic dissipated, however, she started laughing with relief.
The other mare seemed less happy. “But – where's the Sixth Element?”
With a mad roar of laughter, Nightmare Moon reared up and shattered the five orbs to pieces.
'The megalomania complex, again. They both just do not get it, do they?'
The Listener swallowed. For a moment, he'd thought the Nightmare breaking the Elements would've been the end of the order's plans, but the calmness of the voices told him otherwise.
“You little foal! Thinking you could defeat me? Now, you will never see your princess or your sun. The night will last forever!” the corrupted alicorn gloated, then broke into a loud, echoing and quite crazed laugh.
'Oh dear. If she weren't due for a blast with the Elements, she should really get a psychiatrist.'
While Nightmare Moon continued to have a madness-induced fit, the Listener could hear several pony voices approaching.
'There. She finally sorted it out.'
The unicorn was sitting upright and gasping for air, her eyes widened. “You think you can destroy the Elements of Harmony just like that?” she interrupted Nightmare Moon's excessive horselaugh with a smug grin. “Well, you're wrong. Because the spirits of the Elements of Harmony are right here!” While she had spoken, her friends, two earth ponies, two pegasi and another unicorn, had arrived at her side.
When the shards of the fractured spheres shook and rose into the air, Nightmare Moon quite intelligently remarked “What?”
The purple unicorn answered this thoroughly witty question by resuming what was becoming a lecture on harmony. “Applejack, who reassured me when I was in doubt, represents the spirit of Honesty.”
'That is one name. Finally some useful information.'
“Fluttershy, who tamed a manticore with her compassion, represents the spirit of Kindness.”
'That makes two.'
“Pinkie Pie, who banished fear by giggling in the face of danger, represents the spirit of Laughter.”
'Three. Nice to be reassured.'
“Rarity, who calmed a sorrowful serpent with a meaningful gift, represents the spirit of Generosity.”
'Four.'
“And Rainbow Dash, who could not abandon her friends for her own heart's desire, represents the spirit of Loyalty.”
'Five.'
As she spoke, the shards flew to their respective bearers, orbiting them while glowing with magic.
“The spirits of these five ponies got us through every challenge you threw at us.”
“You still don't have the Sixth Element. The spark didn't work.” Nightmare Moon grasped a last straw of hope, her tone betraying the edge of despair.
“But it did. A different kind of spark.” The young mare turned to her five companions. “I felt it the very moment I realised how happy I was to hear you, to see you, how much I care about you. The spark ignited inside me when I realised that you all are my friends!”
With a shining light, a sixth stone sphere materialised a few metres above her head, causing everypony to look up in awe and wonder. It slowly descended to an altitude at about twice its bearer's height of head, illuminating the hall with a blinding light that made the Listener's eyes burn and the alicorn turn away and shield her eyes with a wing.
“You see Nightmare Moon, when those Elements are ignited by the – the spark that resides in the heart of us all, it creates the Sixth Element, the Element of Magic!”
When these words were spoken, the Elements of Harmony fully re-entered their active state and bonded with their bearers. The shards lit up in brilliant, vivid colours and fused into ornamented golden necklaces around the ponies' necks. As the Sixth Element manifested as a regal tiara, the six ponies were lifted into the air. They emanated white light as godly powers channelled through them to create a massive rainbow arc of harmonious magic. Fortunately, Nightmare Moon had by now regained enough composure to quote many a villain's last words. “No! Nooo...”
Then the rainbow hit the ground at her hooves, swirled up in a tornado of colour and flooded the world with harmony. Only a small, crumbled blue heap of an alicorn remained of her, a lighter shadow of her former self.
'That makes 8s establishing the link to the bearers and 17s defeating the Nightmare. Acceptable,' the whispers documented after the arcane fallout had dispersed.
“Can we go now?” the Last Listener begged, blinking furiously at the after-images of the bright flash. He had felt the amount of magic thrown around by the Elements and was confident that such a blast must have sent all of the machines to go haywire. He needed to check on them.
'Not yet. I am still missing one name. Besides, they would see you.'
“Oh, my head.” The pegasus, Rainbow Dash, came to her senses, proving that with great power comes great headache.
“Everypony okay?” asked a concerned Applejack.
“Oh, thank goodness.” Rarity had only eyes for her magically restored and elaborately styled tail.
“Why, Rarity, it's so lovely” Fluttershy complimented her friend on her new one-sixth-of-all-powerful fashion accessory.
“I know. I'll never part with it again.” Rarity, however, was obliviously admiring her own backside, so Fluttershy decided to be more direct.
“No, your necklace. It looks just like your cutie mark,” she pointed out the shape of necklace's centrepiece gem.
“What? Oh, so does yours.”
'Are all mortals that clueless?'
“Look at mine, look at mine!” Pinkie bounced through the room in her usual hyperactive demeanour.
“Aw yeah!” Rainbow approved of her necklace in which a lightning-shaped gemstone was embedded.
The Listener simply stared. These mares had just defeated the alicorn of the moon, saved Equestria from eternal night and now had no other concern than trivial, idle banter? He was positively shaken by the attitude theses ponies seemed to have.
“Gee, Twilight, I thought you were just spoutin' a lotta hooey, but I reckon we really do represent the elements of friendship.” Applejack seemed a bit shaky, but otherwise happy.
“Indeed you do.” As the sun rose over the horizon to end the not-day, Princess Celestia herself appeared in all her glory inside the ruins of Everfree Castle.
Now the Listener was really scared. The Eye in the Sky, the ever-watchful goddess, the Lady Sun, the Mistress of the Inferno, the pony he feared most of all had arrived. Shivering and shaking, he crept deeper into the shadows beneath the pillar.
“Princess Celestia!” While everypony but her and the grumpy old stallion behind a column bowed to the Princess of the Sun, the Element of Magic pranced over to the god empress.
“Twilight Sparkle, my faithful student.” – 'So that is her name. Thanks, little sunshine.' – “I knew you could do it.” Celestia proudly smiled down at her protégé.
Twilight Sparkle somehow seemed to doubt that. “But you told me it was all an old pony tale.”
“I told you that you needed to make some friends, nothing more. I saw the signs of Nightmare Moon's return and I knew it was you who had the magic inside to defeat her. But you could not unleash it until you let true friendship into your heart.”
The Last Listener to The Watcher was flabbergasted. “She knew what would happen. That means she must know the plan. But how can she know the plan? Does she know—”
'She knows what she needs to know to play her part. She thinks all of this is her plan which is why she expected this to happen. But she knows about neither you nor me.'
Meanwhile, Princess Celestia turned to the pitiful remainder of Nightmare Moon. “Now if only another will as well. Princess Luna.”
The latter was lying on her abdomen, shrunk and weak, surrounded by the shattered remains of her armour, gasping in sudden fright as the great ruler of Equestria addressed her.
“It has been a thousand years since I have seen you like this.” Celestia slowly approached the quivering mess of a blue alicorn and sat down in front of her. “Time to put our differences behind us. We were meant to rule together, little sister.”
'Oh yes, you were. It was decided to be your destiny,' the voices commented grimly while everypony else gasped “Sister?” at the shocking revelation. The Listener only blinked in silent confusion.
“Will you accept my friendship?” Celestia rose to her hooves again and expectantly eyed Luna, who was still lying on the ground.
At first, Princess Luna hesitated, but then she threw herself at her sister, tears running down her cheeks. “I'm so sorry. I missed you so much, big sister.”
“I've missed you, too.”
'Good. Nothing of the Nightmare seems to remain in her. I am glad everything worked.'
Seconds later, the reunited diarchs and the Elements were sweeped away by an over-enthusiastic Pinkie screaming about 'party', leaving behind a grey old pony who mused about how he had lost his name and his tears to an incorporeal being that talked inside his head. Both must have died with his parents, even though a small part of him suspected there had never been a name for him. His predecessor had always said that he would be the Last, and that would be his destiny.
After he had pondered for some minutes while standing in the warm sunshine that entered the Lunar throne room through the grand windows, the whispers ordered him to take the broken bits of Nightmare's armour and put them into the designated display case.
He gladly returned to the darkness beneath his hooves.
Part One: The Prophecy, The Princess and The Portal
Chapter Four: Destiny
"Two days ago, the new star fell to the ground, oddly not ceasing acceleration upon reaching the point of terminal velocity. Its speed surpassed that of sound, somehow causing an arcane discharge visible as an expanding circular wave of condensing light and leaving behind a multi-hued streak in the air. This wave displaced the grim storm clouds brought about by the windigos, fully clearing the sky. An hour later, the sun rose for the first time for about a month. Probably at the time the object hit the surface, a phenomenon named by my student Clover as 'Fire of Friendship' melted the snow and dispersed what remained of the windigos' herd. Another interesting phenomenon that has occurred since then is the spontaneous appearance of strange images on the flanks of several ponies. My student's, for instance, now shows a purplish flame in the shape of a heart. I have confirmed that it is magical in nature, yet I could not determine its origin. It is somehow deeply connected to the psyche of Clover and interwoven with his magic. I do not have any explanation for any of this, but I still have a remaining lead. I will try and organize an investigation of the star's crash site as soon as possible."
—Star Swirl's Journal, 967 before Nightmare Moon
[Equestria, Everfree Castle; 17th of Dawn in the year 1004 after Nightmare Moon]
With a start he snapped out of his memories of the past and back into the dreary present. Again, he'd done it again. It was just all so – tiring. He blinked, turning away from the metal oblong he had been staring at.
After the fateful not-day, he had more than a year of peace that actually made him believe everything was fine. Then Discord happened, plunging the facility into chaos. Whatever he had done to the world, he didn't know, but it had caused the machines to run amok. The automated announcement had blared nonsensical, contradictional messages, everything had been rattling and shaking. He would never forget the 'Butter Overflow Exception'. If it hadn't been for the voices, he wouldn't even have known what was going on. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able or supposed to do anything about it, so he had to stay in his quarters and bar the door while waiting and hoping for the unproductive chaos to end.
He had been immensely relieved when a wave of white light and inexorable magic had stopped the flickering lights, wild readings, howling machines and culinary impossibilities. The announcement had declared the defeat of Discord by the Elements of Harmony. Everything was back to normal, back on schedule.
However, there was one thing the Elements' magic had been unable to repair: his peace of mind, which remained missing ever since, paranoia eating away at the bit of sanity he had left.
Then, another year later, the 'maccident' had occurred. Apparently, some weird mutant had started running around in Equestria, creating surges of powerful magic that disrupted the delicate sensory equipment. Even worse, the bloody thing hadn't been on any schedule, which meant that he had to access the main control panel, which he had no idea how it worked, get tons of readings which left him totally clueless because he had no idea what they were supposed to mean and then amend the 'programming', which he had no idea what it was, of the Operative Core, which he had no idea how it worked, either.
Both him and the voices had been very angry at whatever had caused all the commotion. He had been angry because it meant incomprehensible overtime work. The voices had been angry for – well, different reasons.
'We had 98% correlation. Now we have less than 75%. Not even Sombra with his ridiculous empire managed a drop in correlation ratio that great. We will have to make a full-scale amendment. I only hope it just caused a linear translation of some kind. This stupid mutant is the worst mortal in this science-forsaken dimension!'
It had taken several months until the whispers had incorporated the mutant into their predictions and the Core had been properly reassigned an amended schedule. In the end, they reached 94.3% prediction correlation ratio.
While the next incident was only minor, it somehow managed to put one of the Elements into grave mortal danger. As a result, the noble title of the 'world's worst mortal' was passed to a mare known by the name of Trixie Lulamoon.
Then, just a week ago, the automated systems had announced that Discord had been freed again. Although nothing had really happened, the Listener was now living in constant fear, perpetual paranoia leaving him to expect the world being torn asunder any moment.
As he left the Core chamber, he decided it was time to go to sleep. In his current state of mind, he wouldn't get anything done anyway. So after storing the mop and bucket in a broom closet, he returned to his quarters, comforted himself with a drink of stale dimple cup booze and snuggled up in his ancient blanket that had once been tapestry back when ponies still lived in the castle above. Under the warmth of embroidery depicting the official signing of the Equestrian Constitution, he quickly doze off into the welcoming embrace of darkness.
“Attention, please! Attention! This is an emergency! Attention!”
He drifted back into the world of the waking with a feeling of sheer terror.
“This is an emergency! This is a pre-recorded message! An anomaly has been detected. All facility associates are to remain calm and wait for instructions.”
He unwrapped himself from his bed and sighed as the white noise violated his ears.
“The Elements of Harmony have been affected by a defective spell. The connection between the Elements and their wielders is subject to massive interferences.” -static- He flinched and silently cursed the fact that covering his ears would risk not getting the whole message.
“This event is occurring as scheduled by the schedule. There is no reason to panic.” -static- “This event is part of the scheduled ascent of the bearer of the Element of Magic to the status of an alicorn princess.” -static- He groaned and rubbed his head.
“Prediction correlation ratio is 94.8%.” -static- “Please receive instructions from the current communication executive. The current communication executive is encouraged to contact the chief schedule supervisor for direction. If there is currently no communication executive available, feel free to panic.” -static- “This has been a pre-recorded message. Thank you for your attention.”
He didn't even have to look at the memo at the wall any more. In the past three years, he had cast the spell so often he knew it by heart by now. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the magic.
The whispers slowly emerged like a corpse from a pool of murky water. 'What is it, executive? Another deviation from schedule? Has unscheduled subject “MAC” broken something, again?'
“No, oh Great One. We are completely on schedule.”
The voices grew lighter. 'Ah. Then finally the moment has arrived for Twilight Sparkle to become the luckiest pony in Equestria,' the whispers hummed, content. 'You know the procedure. First give me the prediction correlation ratio, if you please, then head to the mandatory participant observation room.'
“Ninety-four point something percent.”
The stallion departed from his cell and dragged himself to the observation room. Glancing at the dull grey walls, he announced the notification lights that were lit up. “E1, E2, E3, E4, E5.”
'Excellent. Would you mind reading out E1-C to E6-C?'
“Sure. Why not.” He scanned the many labels until he found the correct row. “Let's see: one two, two four, three five, four three, five one and six six.”
'That is honestly funny. You can go back to sleep, though. Your services will not be required until morning.'
Relieved and anxious on equal parts, he did as proposed. Head hanging, he slumped back to the small chamber that accommodated him. The spell that enabled communication with the Watcher had yet to fade away when sleep overcame him and he fell into a silent darkness that was only interrupted by a faint vibrant buzzing from another mind.
[Equestria, Everfree Castle; 17th of Dawn in the year 1004 after Nightmare Moon]
When he woke up, it was from a rhythmical tingle in his bones and the faint echo of an annoyingly cheerful song in his head. A true, true friend helps a friend in need, a friend will be there to help them see— 'Get up! You have to prepare an instrument for observation. To the control room!' —to see the light— He shook his head in attempt to banish the infuriating singing from it and got up. While he rushed towards the Core chamber, the words still haunted his mind, rendering him unable to compose himself. He was nervous, he was trembling due to the happy music, he couldn't feel the darkness behind his eyes.
Long story short, he was that close to having a hysterical breakdown. The chamber was, apart from the buzzing of the machinery, quiet as always. The glowing parallelepiped hung under the ceiling like a pure soul in Tartarus, casting its ghost-like light on the controls beneath. His glance danced over the excessively complicated panels, finding no indication what to do amongst them.
“What exactly am I supposed to do?”
'We will need prime access. Approach the locked panel.'
Said panel only contained a rectangular field of forty-two unlabelled grey buttons as opposed to vast arrays of the multi-coloured buttons, switches and other input units the other panels featured. 'I will now tell you a series of numbers. You press the keys that correspond to those numbers. 1 is at the upper left, 42 is at the bottom right. It is a hundred-digit passphrase, so do not err.'
“Wait, what?”
'7. 4. 29—'
His protest was to no avail, leaving him no choice but to enter the code. This kind of task was just why he didn't like this chamber. Everything in it was completely meaningless and ridiculously complicated. Pressing forty blank buttons a hundred times? Seriously?
'—42. 9. 18. Got everything?'
As he pressed the last button, to his own surprise, the panel slid aside, revealing a small compartment. In it was an odd grey crown, plain aside a set of multicoloured gemstones. When he took it out, he realised that, even more strangely, it was seemingly tied to the compartment with a few dozen wires.
'Put it on.'
The voices had commanded, he had no choice. Slightly anxious, he put on the crown. Being made of metal, it felt cold and heavy. Nothing happened.
'Once again, excellent work. You must be so proud. Now, would you kindly cast the spell that allows me to see through your eye?'
Reluctantly, he charged up his horn and wove the spell the whispering voices told him. With a flash of light, magic erupted from his horn and the spell rose up majestically and failed. He gritted his teeth and tried again. Finally, at the fourth attempt, his right eye went blind and numb.
The whispers trickled into his mind through the stale taste of metal in his mouth and the electric tingling in his spine. 'At last. We do not have all day, you know. After all, we are to oversee a crucial stage of the plan. @:\>run 255\'
Almost as soon as the unfamiliar and unpronounceable thought filled his head, the machines tripled their noise levels, producing a series of metallic clanks that exorcised the last bits of silence from the room. A big mirror descended from the ceiling, held by two telescopic rails, and placed itself upright on the floor next to the Listener.
“That never happened before.” The pony was dumbstruck.
Suddenly, the mirror lit up and started flashing wildly in all different sorts of hues while a high-pitched screeched echoed through the room. For about three seconds. Then both the light and the noise stopped in favour of the rough automatic announcement's voice.
“System check completed. Audio-visual output system completely functional.”
'Glass, mercury and a little magic. Simple, yet effective.' The voices commented on the not-at-all-weird-or-scary mirror. '@:\>query C-* -v\>query E*-C -a\'
The mirror went dull and black, filling with a mass of white numbers and words. He could feel his blind eye twirl in its socket as it scanned the screen. At the same time, the announcement spoke once more. “One one. Two two. Three three. Four four. Five five. Six six.”
His right ear twitched, his lips trembled. The facility was never this active, nor this responsive. “How do you do that?” he demanded to know.
However, his attempt at communication was drowned as the day's second alarm went off. Lights flashed, a yellow triangle with an exclamation mark in it appeared in the mirror, machines howled, the system blared its dreary message through the facility. “Attention, please! Attention! This is an emergency! Attention! This is an emergency! This is a pre-recorded message! An anomaly has been detected. All facility associates are to remain calm and wait for instructions.”
Fortunately, one of his ears was presently deaf, so the nerve-wrecking sound that followed didn't hurt quite as much.
“The Elements of Harmony have activated.” -static- “This event is occurring as scheduled by the schedule. There is no reason to panic.” -static- “This event is part of the scheduled ascent of the bearer of the Element of Magic to the status of an alicorn princess.” -static- “Prediction correlation ratio is 95.4%.”
As soon as the choir had issued the first line, the menace to his pony ears stopped at once. Then the complex responded to the other two commands. Gears turned deep in the facility, moving ancient devices, aligning sensors, focusing on whatever the task they had been given was. The floating crystal at the room's centre shone ever brighter, casting sharp silhouettes over every surface, its humming swelled to a rhythmic pulse that sent vibrations running through the floor, the walls, everything. Sparks trailed off it, arcing through the air and into various conduits, sending energy to the many parts of the underground complex.
The mercury mirror flared in fuzzy whiteness and a sound of incomprehensible crackling filled the chamber. Then the image focused, revealing an ethereal environment. It didn't seem like a place in the original sense, lacking true orientation and dimensions. It was an infinite void, yet a confined space filled with a haze of shining stars. In the picture's focus, however, stood the potentially most powerful magician in Equestrian history, Twilight Sparkle, a young, slightly pale purple unicorn with a rose streak running through her blue mane. She looked around with a look of confusion and distress.
“—am I? What is this place?“
'The astral plane, obviously. The place between the living world and the world beyond.'
From the depths of the ether, another figure rose. With her brilliant white coat and her flowing, pastel halo of a mane, Princess Celestia blended right into her ethereous surroundings.
“Congratulations, Twilight. I knew you could do it.” While slightly distorted by the transmission into the underground facility, her voice sounded regal as ever and filled with pride.
Her faithful student eagerly approached her mentor. “Princess, I don't understand. What did I do?”
“You did something that has never been done before.” She placed a hoof on Twilight's shoulder. As she continued, an aged journal appeared in a flash of her magic, floating beside her, the lettered pages turning on their own. “Something even a great unicorn like Star Swirl the Bearded was not able to do, because he did not understand friendship like you do. The lessons you've learned here in Ponyville have taught you well.” Celestia patted her student's back.
'Well, what did Star Swirl know. Luckily, he at least managed to compose a dysfunctional spell for Twilight to rewrite.'
Celestia began walking through the spaceless place. “You have proven that you're ready, Twilight.”
“Ready? Ready for what?” The latter turned to follow the noble alicorn.
The voices hissed in irony. 'Cake, of course.'
The two of them strode through the ether, side by side, without ever moving forward. Images, memories from Twilight's past surrounded them, showing events that stuck to her memory and made the princess proud. Music filled the void as the Lady Sun began her ballad.
'Do not look at me like that. Those free-floating magic constructs were beyond the budget. We will have to make do with the mercury.'
With the last words of her songs, Celestia rose up high, angelic wings spread wide, the alicorn shining in full solar glory.
'And she initiated the transformation sequence.'
Something woke up in the young unicorn. She was lifted from her hooves as a white glow emanated from the region of her heart and strands of purple magic orbited her.
'Energy focusing and thaumic decomposition seem successful.'
Twilight levitated higher and higher, rising above Celestia, the light from within her grew stronger and the bands of magic circling her increased in number and breadth while her body was shaken by forces beyond mortal control.
'This is the critical phase. If the amplification is disharmonious, successful recomposition will be impossible.'
The glow within Twilight erupted in a burst of magic that overloaded the mirror. It flared white, crude figures flickering and jumbling over its surface. When the picture returned to normal, Twilight was gone.
'So, dissolution and energetic transition seem to have gone quite smoothly as well.'
The ether was now empty save for the the radiant pony princess. She smiled knowingly before walking off, returning to the physical realm in a much more subtle and less dangerous way, which is without transforming into something entirely different by utilizing the differences in the energy potential between the planes of existence.
The Last Listener to the Watcher sat in silence and stared into the unsettling void. He was unsure what to think, what to feel, what to make of what he just had witnessed. Fear was, naturally, an option. Shying away from a world he couldn't understand, from monstrous immortal beings and omnipotent magic. Happiness? Maybe. It somehow felt right, as if the event was supposed to bring great joy, as if whatever just happened was great in general. Anger also didn't sound too bad after all he'd been through, the sarcastic comments, the either mindlessly monotone or incomprehensible tasks, the danger of being discovered by the Princess of the Sun. Disappointment somehow also came to mind. In a way, it all felt like some kind of badly written story. He might settle for numbness, a lethargic mix of fear and carelessness that would help him endure his trials. Or despair? Giving up, letting go, finding peace didn't seem so bad if you considered—
Deep inside the bowels of the earth, a forgotten contraption sprung to life. The distracting sound of a loud party hooter echoing through the facility stirred him from his thoughts and a particularly mischievous vent right above his head decided that this was the correct time and place to spout colourful streamers.
He frowned as they gently floated down unto him, creating an insufferable mess and getting into his mane. “Drat.”
'Indeed. The pre-emptive celebration warning has been overridden by the observatory data transmission routine, but the celebration command seems to have gotten through somehow. There must be some kind of malfunction.'
Anger it was, then. He groaned loudly. “You don't get it, do you? I wake up, everything's crazy, there's big magic mirrors and princesses and stuff, you fill my head with all these insane things and expose me to cheesy songs! I've had it! And now the facility itself turns against me and there's streamers all over the place! I never wanted any of this. Nopony ever asked me if I wanted any of this. Because, well, I don't want any of this!”
'Do you think I did? Do you not think I would rather choose an insenescent super soldier, an undead magician, a mannulunculus or a remote-controlled machine? I tried all of those, you know. The former two went ponicidally insane, the artificial lifeform could not be animated properly and the machines were not durable enough to sustain contact to me for more than twenty hours before spontaneously combusting. I had to choose the Listeners to carry out my plan because they worked. You partake in this enterprise because you can finish it.'
“That's not—”
'What do you even have to complain about? You are the only one of My Listeners to witness success. You saw Nightmare Moon only once? Demented was killed by her. You endured Discord for two measly days? Sand Song lived with him for five decades. You complain about handling the Operative Core? Pillar installed it here and reprogrammed it to account for Sombra and the Crystal Empire. You complain about hardships? Goodwyrm died in a civil war. Cheesy songs? That is what you worry about in the final stage of the plan?' The voices became softer, not accusing any more. 'I never gave you any task that was beyond you. I chose you because I know you can succeed. You are destined and able to finish what the other Listeners have started. You will complete what hundreds have worked for. That, I know for sure.'
The Listener shook his drooping head. “You have made mistakes before. Your predictions aren't always correct. What if you saw something in me that I am not?”
The whispers tittered and laughed. 'Who are you? Sombra? One of the world's worst mortals? No. You are mine, my Listener. I know you, I have looked into your heart and soul and I know you shall not fail. Now is the time all pieces fall into place. Now is the time to prepare for victory. Now is the time for the one final operation that will bring success. Once more you must persevere, then your part is fulfilled.'
Deep down beneath the surface covered by the cursed Everfree forest laid an intricate net of channels, corridors, shafts, rooms chiselled into the stone. Pervading this system of unnatural caverns was a long-stretched obscenity, a bizarre monster forged from brass, iron, tin, steel, copper. The machines never stopped, just as if they had a life of their own. At the centre of the web of tunnels was a single chamber, heart to the facility in more than one sense. In this chamber sat an old stallion, listening while his ear twitched and his left eye rolled, subject to a will that was not his own. Inside him whispered the echoes of an aeon-old mind that spoke in a way which could not be heard with ears.
The voices explained, elaborated. He listened. The machines listened. They all obeyed.
/.o.0.O.0.o.\
[Equestria, Everfree Castle; 21st of Thaw in the year 489 before Nightmare Moon]
As she emptied the glass of queer water, a pegasus entered the otherwise empty hall, pulling a cart full of book covers, scrolls, quills, sheets of parchment, bottles of ink, yarn and some needles. She moved it to the alicorn and unloaded the requested materials. “Here you go, your highness.”
The princess gave her a faint smile. “Thank you. I—” “Am Grateful For Your Excellent Work. Please Leave.”
The pegasus jumped and shrieked in shock and surprise as the smile made way to a harsh and disapproving expression, while the princess' eyes flashed red and her voice twisted to a tone that reached beyond audible sound. But as soon as the sudden change had come, it went away again.
“It's alright, don't be afraid,” the princess said, attempting a comforting smile. “He's just a bit nervous, it's not your fault He snapped at you like that.”
The scared mare, however, backed away, her unsettled stare driven into the princess' eyes. Out of a sudden, vivid red energy engulfed the princess' horn and the pile of writing materials started to move. As bottles unstopped and scrolls unfolded in an eerie blood-like light, the pegasus retreated even further. Finally, when the floating ink bottles, quills and parchments joined into a roaring cyclone of writing fury, she made a run for it.
The pony princess slowly contemplated the event in what could have been an awkward silence if it weren't for the determined rustling of paper and the restless scratching of many quills.
“As a princess, it is my royal duty to treat my subjects with respect and kindness. Your behaviour is simply not tolerable. You should apologise.”
'Mind You, I Am Currently Writing A Letter, An Essay And Three Books Simultaneously. I Do Not Have Leisure For Idly Discussing Moral Matters.'
This really infuriated her. He had been reckless and insensitive before, but behaving in such a way was unacceptable. Nopony. Ever. Treated. Her. Subjects. Like. This! Even if He was an entity of cosmic proportions, it did not give him the right to be rude, scare ponies and then shrug away the responsibility. “Listen here. You cannot just ignore what is morally right and wrong. This is not Your world, it is ours, and while you may call moral values idle, we don't. We didn't associate with You to make You our king or something. We cooperated with You because we hoped You would help to free us from the dominion of the sun-controlling tyrant. We will not cooperate with You if You give us reason to believe that You'll be just as much of a tyrannical bastard.”
Accurately drawing a sigil on a sheet of parchment, He answered slowly and calmly. 'First Of All, You Are A Fool If You Seriously Thought I Would Not Have My Own Goals. Everypony Is Motivated By Something. Second, My Plan Does Involve Overthrowing Your Ruler, So It Is Pointless To Whine About That Topic. Third, I Do Not Desire To Rule Over Ponykin. Although I Have Some Experience As An Absolute Monarch, I Will Not Take The Throne. It Is Irrelevant To My Plans. As Soon As The Current Ruler Is Usurped, I Will Not Have Any Objections To Ponies Governing Themselves As They Deem Fit.'
While the princess pondered on a response and the fact that He didn't have any trouble writing with more than two dozen quills while talking to her, He started stitching books together and wrapping up scrolls, still finishing the last two works. By the time she had come up with a repartee, He already placed a last scroll with instructions concerning the other writings on top of the heap of parchment and books.
“I just want You to understand that—” she started, only to be interrupted in a moment's notice.
'Please Take It As Given That I Do Understand. Sadly, There Is No Time Left For Us To Elaborate On That Topic.' He teleported to mess He had made away. 'You Might Want To Arise For – Our Royal Visitor.' He added in a tone that conducted sarcasm like frozen metal.
Heaving herself back up onto her hooves, she scanned the hall. It was still empty apart from her.
'Just Wait A Second.'
With a burst of devastating brightness, somepony teleported into the hall, materializing at its centre. For a moment, the princess staggered backwards at the sight she beheld, then her eyes turned red and her stance secured. Her mouth spoke words that were not hers. “Well, Here We Are Again. I Have Anticipated Your Arrival,” He said through the possessed pony, smirking up to the towering figure of the ruler of all of Equestria.
Part One: The Prophecy, The Princess and The Portal
Chapter Five: Past Post / Special Delivery
[Equestria, Ponyville; 2nd of Bloom 1004 after Nightmare Moon]
If one had to describe the defining characteristic that set the current beautiful summer day in Ponyville apart from other wonderful summer days in Ponyville, they would have found themselves at a loss of words. The weather was, as always, perfect due to the admirable work of the capable team of weather ponies under Rainbow Dash. The sun was shining and the few white clouds only served as an aesthetically pleasing accent in the wide blue sky. It was warm, yet not hot, pleasant and temperate. The little town itself was relatively quiet, but not devoid of ponies going about their daily business. It was not a day of celebration, much less a national holiday, and the air was filled with the combined noises of the market, ponies walking, talking, trading.
It was also not unusual for Twilight Sparkle to recede to the sheltered environment of the Golden Oak Library, albeit circumstances were a bit different today. The first thing was the fact that Twilight Sparkle was now, since nearly three weeks, Princess Twilight Sparkle. The second thing was that she had returned to Ponyville just yesterday after being absent for her coronation and two weeks of travelling to various diplomatic meetings.
However, while these circumstances were certainly extraordinary, they did nothing to jeopardize the remaining regularity innate to this Tuesday. Twilight was sitting on a quite comfortable cushion in her study. Her whole attention was consumed by a lengthy tome titled 'Royal Canterlot Etiquette: Volume IV' which was lying open in front of her. She sat almost perfectly still, only her eyes dancing over the yellowed pages. Every now and then, her horn would flare up to turn a page.
True to the narrative, this silent idyll was bluntly interrupted by the harsh exclamation of a stallion standing outside the door of the house-tree. “Halt! Who goes there?”
The stallion to whom the brash and admittedly strong voice belonged was a pegasus with the great pleasure of serving in Celestia's Royal Guard, a prestigious, well-paid and not exceedingly dangerous job. His and his unicorn colleague's, who was standing on the other side of the library's entrance, current assignment was to protect the Princess Twilight Sparkle. Thus, it was his duty to protect the entrance to her Highness' dwelling to avert potential threats to her safety.
In answer to the steely question, a second voice sounded, its slight childlikeness doing nothing to ease the annoyance that rung with it. “It's me, Spike. You know, the dragon who came out of this door just half an hour ago? The Princess' personal assistant? Does that ring a bell?”
Spike had been out buying vital resources like ink and flashcards that were in dire need of restocking. Aside from that, he had also acquired some less vital supplies, mainly food.
His sarcasm did not faze the soldiers, whose training had involved ridding them of any conceivable humour. His claim, however, was valid and the unicorn guard responded in kind. “You may pass.”
Through the opening door, Twilight's personal assistant entered the library in full midget glory, a small purple dragon carrying a tasteful wicker basket filled with various goods. Into his face was etched a frown that told the tale of his resentment about the guardsponies.
“Geez, these guys drive me insane.” He verbalized it. Twilight looked up from her reading matter and turned to Spike while he set down the basket on the clean wooden floor. “I think they do this stuff on purpose.”
Twilight flashed a consolidating smile. “Come on, it's their job to protect me.” She let out a light chuckle. “They don't really get to do anything else than standing at my door or following me around.”
Spike rolled his eyes. “What do you even need them for? I know Princess Celestia has given them to you as bodyguards, but I don't think they could handle anything that you can't.”
Twilight rose from her cushion. A sitting pony couldn't give a lecture about the significance of Royal bodyguards in the modern era, after all. “Well, given that the Princesses can defend themselves quite well, the purpose of such bodyguards has traditionally been mainly psychological,” she introduced the topic to Spike, who reacted by giving her a blank look instead of an intelligent remark. Twilight didn't mind, though, she had planned to elaborate further anyway. “You see, if a princess looks heavily guarded, ponies with malicious intent are less likely to do anything bad. The presence of the guards is meant to discourage criminals from breaking the law. The guards don't really have to do anything to actively protect their princess. They stand there and look intimidating and by doing that prevent things like what happened in the Crystal Empire.”
Spike scratched his head and nodded slowly. “That makes sense. What did happen in the Crystal Empire, anyway?” he asked, having slept through most of the singular incident.
As Twilight recalled the events, she could help but giggle at their absurdity. “It's actually quite funny, now that I think of it.” She managed to suppress her girlish laughter and cleared her throat. “Apparently, a pony named Sunset Shimmer tried to steal my Element of Magic and use it for her own ends.”
While it explained the hassle at that night, the explanation left Spike somehow unsatisfied. It had a logic gap that compromised its credibility. “But the Elements only work together.”
“I know,” Twilight confirmed. She let out a half grim, half amused snort as she continued. “Nevertheless, Sunset broke into my quarters at night, stole my crown and replaced it with a fake.”
Spike waved a claw to interrupt her. “Wait a moment. Your crown?” The piece of jewellery atop Twilight's head bobbed up and down as she nodded. “The tiara from the coronation?”
“Yep,” Twilight affirmed.
“That had no magic properties whatsoever?” Spike was quite confused by this thief's behaviour. It didn't make any sense.
“Exactly!” Twilight didn't manage to suppress a grin any more. It was not nice to gloat, but a potential villain foiling her own scheme through sheer stupidity was just too delicious. “Isn't it just brilliant? She didn't only have an absurd intention, she also stole the wrong thing. That just shows how important proper research is.”
“What happened to her?”
Twilight frowned, mostly because she didn't understand all of the magic involved. Even she, Equestria's leading expert in the magic of friendship, did not know everything about magic, and that slightly irked her. “She somehow escaped by walking into a mirror. Don't even ask how that works. After that, Princess Luna sealed the mirror with a spell and I got a new crown. And that's pretty much it.” A wave of her hoof drew an invisible line to signify her tale's end. “My point is that it wouldn't have happened if there had been a royal guardspony keeping his watch at my door.”
Upon returning to their original topic, Spike remembered his grudge against the very guards whose presence Princess Twilight had just justly justified. “I still don't understand why they keep halting me. I'm the only dragon in Ponyville, so I shouldn't be that hard to remember.”
“I guess they just take their job super-duper-whooper serious,” Pinkie chimed. “By the way, howdy!”
Spike gave a little jump as the Element of Laughter suddenly joined their argument. Double-taking at Pinkie, he whispered to Twilight. “Since when is Pinkie here?”
Twilight answered without really moving her face at all, keeping a stoic, though slightly shocked expression. “No idea.”
“I just came in, silly,” Pinkie Pie explained helpfully, laughing a little at her friends' surprise which was, in her opinion, slightly out of place because she was not throwing a surprise party or playing a prank that involved them being surprised by something.
Deciding not to question this, Spike asked her about the problem which he seemed to be the only one bothered about. “Why didn't the guards stop you, then?”
Happy to give another explanation to an apparently confused Spike, Pinkie grinned wide. “Because I didn't try to get past them.”
Twilight blinked a few times, then, for the sake of her own sanity, shrugged it off as just Pinkie Pie being Pinkie Pie. “O-kay. Why did you come here, anyway?”
For a moment Pinkie stared at her like she had just declared that Celestia was an evil robot who was driven to consume stars and planets to fulfil her objective of value satisfaction, then her face lit up with her trademark facial expression, which is so obvious that it will not be mentioned here. “Ah, yeah. It's my Pinkie Sense.”
“Pinkie Sense? Oh, no! What's going to happen? Are things starting to fall from the sky?” Spike panicked. “Will a meteor block out the sun and cause an ice age? Will the sea level rise so high that we'll have to build giant ships to survive?”
“Spike, calm down!” Twilight scolded her assistant before turning to Pinkie, again. “Just tell us what's going on.”
“Well,” Pinkie said, sitting down in thought, “It's gotta be something big. At first it was just my knee being pinchy, but then my ears started flapping and when my tail twitch-a-twitched I got this weird feeling that you get when you know you know something but don't know it right now and you feel like you should know and like you almost remember, but not quite, you know?”
Breathing a few times in and out to calm herself, Twilight asked “Can you tell me what, where and when?”
Pinkie shook her head wildly. “Nope. You see, I never had this combo before, especially not the not-knowing-what-you-know-you-know feeling. All I can tell is that it's gonna happen right here and right—”
“Halt! Who goes there?” The thundering voice of the unicorn guard interrupted Pinkie's ramblings.
The voice that replied was a rather raspy, even dusty one. It was accompanied by heavy, rustling breathing and altogether sounded more like an asthmatic raven or crow than like a living pony. It didn't sound like a dead pony either, because dead ponies don't talk. “I'm a special delivery service assistant from the special delivery service and I'm here to deliver this special delivery parcel to the Princess Twilight Sparkle as a part of the special delivery service's special delivery service.” The wordy announcement was followed by a slimy cough.
After mentally going through official regulations, the guard reacted with bureaucratic precision. “So you are a mailpony. Put your mail into the mailbox.”
The ponies inside the library had grown quiet, they couldn't help but listen to this peculiar and rather loud conversation that penetrated the wooden door.
“Excuse me,” the special delivery service assistant, who hopefully didn't have lung cancer, said, “But it is part of the special delivery service's special delivery service to personally deliver the special delivery parcel to the special delivery recipient which is, in the case of this special delivery, the Princess Twilight Sparkle. It is my special duty as a special delivery service assistant to personally deliver this special delivery parcel to the Princess myself.” More heavy coughing followed.
For the best of five seconds, both of the guards were stunned. Somehow, this simple mailpony had created a situation that was not accounted for in the rules. None of them knew what to do if the pony who wanted to see the Princess for a good reason refused to not see her. Luckily, regulations accounted for the case that regulations did not account for the case, in which case the soldiers would have to report to the next higher ranking officer. This was why the pegasus guard, being the one higher in ranking of the two, concluded “I'll ask my superior.”
The door of the library opened and a white pegasus adorned in royal guard armour entered, bowing briefly before Twilight, meanwhile ignoring the pink breach of security. “Excuse me, Your Highness, there is a mailpony outside who claims he has to deliver a parcel to Your Highness in person.”
Just as Twilight was about to reply, she was interrupted by a sudden shout from outside, stemming from the second guard. “Hey! Your were told to halt!”
A stallion barged into the library through the open door, ran into the pegasus guard, ricochetted off him due to his fragile stature and his lower mass and skidded to a halt right before Princess Twilight Sparkle. The unicorn looked pale and unhealthy. According to the stains on his coat, his work in the shipping business had caused him to come into contact with acid, soot, oil, fire, liquid metal and at least seven types of cavernous moss. His original colour of coat was hard to determine, but it must have been something akin to a dull grey. Instead of a uniform, he wore a very shabby midnight blue cloak that looked like it should have rightfully turned to dust a century ago. Around his neck, however, dangled a small white oblong which read in clear black letters 'special delivery service assistant'.
He stared at her, wheezing, then quickly told her what she had already overheard. “Your Majesty, I'm your special delivery service assistant and I'm here to deliver you this special delivery parcel as a part of the special delivery service's special delivery service.”
“I've been able to catch as much.” Twilight noticed that while his right eye was transfixed on her, pupil dilated to a pinprick, his left eye lolled around, dancing from the floor to the ceiling to the guard, then to Pinkie, the wall, her, the floor again. It somehow looked like a very bouncy ball in a very small box. “What's wrong with your eye?”
The unicorn's right ear twitched, he gulped. The eye focused on Twilight, quivering only slightly while the pupil alternated between widening and dilating. “It's just a” – he coughed as if he had an especially sticky lump of mucus in his throat – “temporary condition.” He blinked, though only with his right eye. For almost two seconds, he stared absentmindedly at something a hoof away from her temple before suddenly snapping out of it. “Here is your special delivery parcel. Do not digest it.”
His horn shone in a pale blue as a cardboard box levitated of his back and placed itself at Twilight's hooves. On it, bold red letters proclaimed 'SPECIAL DELIVERY PARCEL'.
Spinning around on his heel, the unicorn made a run for the door and was gone. The pegasus guard took that as his queue to chase the fugitive intruder. “Halt! You are under arrest!” And he left as well.
After making a few helpless gestures, Spike finally managed a “That was weird.”
“I like him!” Pinkie declared, flashing a lot of teeth.
“He's probably just confused and needs professional help,” Twilight reasoned. “I don't think he was actually a mailpony.”
“But he brought you mail,” Pinkie Pie pointed out. “Are there ponies who bring you mail and are not mailponies? Doesn't make bringing you mail a pony a mailpony? Or maybe only mailponies can bring you mail and when other ponies bring you something it's not mail, but a present.”
Twilight groaned and gracefully covered her eyes. She did not facehoof. Princesses don't do such things. It's uncouth. “He wasn't in his right mind, Pinkie. He only thought he was a mailpony, but in fact he wasn't.”
Pinkie looked at her very blankly before embracing the idea without warning in her usual enthused manner. “That makes so much sense, Twilight! He didn't bring you mail, he only thought he brought it while what he brought was not what he thought he brought because he thought he brought mail because he thought it was mail but it is in fact a present that thinks it is mail.” She gasped. “Ohmygoodgraciouspandalisciousprincesscelestiaofthesunthedayandequestria! It's mail and a present at the same time!” She bounced up and down, unable to contain her excitement. “Whatsinnit? Whatsinnit? I love surprises! Especially double surprises like mail-present-things. It's like getting a present by mail. Or mail for a present!”
Princess Twilight sighed, knowing this would only end if she opened the carton. Besides, she herself was also curious what this deluded pony might have chosen as 'mail' to the Princess. Apples, perhaps? A chair? Nothing at all?
Unfolding the cardboard was easy enough. It was, of course, within her capabilities to just vanish the box, but there wasn't really a point to that. What was inside the parcel, however, did surprise her. It looked like a small chest, made of wood. In fact, it was a small wooden chest, but it was more than that. Aside from the six-sided star engraved into the lid, the peculiar thing about it was that its lock featured absolutely zero keyholes and exactly one ring of mystical runes. She knew about this spell, she had read about it somewhere, it was a— “Is that a Marked Box?”
“Let me guess.” Spike smirked in a precocious way. “It's magic, isn't it?”
Twilight interpreted his question as a prompt to explain the principle of this intricate invention of unicorn magic. “A Marked Box is a magic container that is keyed to a specific pony. This pony is the only one who can open it without destroying it. They are usually reinforced by protective charms to prevent forceful access. In former times, they were used to convey and keep secret documents or precious belongings. It has a lock similar to that to the vault in Canterlot Tower where the Elements of Harmony were kept. I don't think this kind of magic is commonly used any more, not since at least two hundred years. Not many unicorns would know how to cast it, either.”
She walked around it, inspecting it from the other side. When concentrating, she could not only feel the lock, but also hexes that strengthened wood and hinges.
“It's got your name on it.”
“Hm?” Twilight looked up, torn from her thoughts by Pinkie's voice. She and Spike were examining the lid, where a single line of writing was carved into the wood.
Spike raised an eyebrow that seemed strangely misplaced on the reptile. “Huh. 'Contents go only to the eyes of Princess Twilight, Princess Dawnstar or Princess Dusk.'” He looked back at his big sister, ersatz stepmother and autocratic ruler. “Strange. I've never heard of those other two before.”
“That's because they don't exist.” Twilight piqued. “There has never been a Princess Dawnstar or a Princess Dusk. This box is just a prank or a historic attempt at deception.”
“Why would it be a prank? It's not even funny.” Pinkie tilted her head, baby blue eyes sending questioning glances deep into Twilight's soul.
“You see, I was only crowned three weeks ago,” Twilight explained. “Judging by the traces of unicorn magic, this box is at least a century old. So the inscription is older than I am and hence can not refer to me.” She slowly circled the chest, supporting her argument with expressive gestures of her front legs. “Posing this as the belonging of a princess that does not exist means it was either some ploy to confuse a political opponent, or”, she triumphantly placed a hoof on the box. “This box is just some old joke.”
The circle of symbols on the chest glowed and hummed and a spark trailed off it as the bolts sprung aside with an audible click and the lock unlocked.
Twilight spent the next ten minutes effectively panicking, or rather reacting appropriately to a situation of extreme pressure because princesses don't freak out.
After successfully closing and reopening the box several times by herself and after the involuntary attempts of Spike, Pinkie Pie, the unicorn guard outside the door and a civilian who had the poor luck of walking past the library when the agitated Princess came searching for 'volunteers'; after all these attempts to open the box had proven unfruitful, she was faced with the inevitable conclusion that the Marked Box was either marked on her or broken. When she touched it, either physically or magically, it would open; if somepony else did such, it would lock again. Consequently, she moved it to the basement in order to investigate further using thaumaturgic and technomantic tools for closer analysis.
Spike followed, leaving Pinkie alone plundering the cookie jar, and found Twilight hectically prodding the small wooden chest with complex-looking devices, scribbling down numbers and plotting graphs. “Twilight, calm down!” he attempted to stop her in her furious endeavour.
She, however, seemed to only notice his presence, though not the words he spoke. “Oh, Spike, there you are.” A nervous little smile cracked on her mouth. “Bring me 'Analytical Magic and You', would you?” She turned back to the table of numbers floating before her and muttered to herself. “I must have gotten this wrong. Either my temporagraph is faulty or I miscalculated the mean dissipation rate...” Her ears perked up and she raised her voice in frustration. “What is the thaumic conductivity of oak wood?” She ran off to consult a catalogue on the magic properties of different materials.
Spike sighed, his shoulders slouched. “This won't end well.”
Nevertheless, he turned around and ascended to the main library again. Fortunately, today the books were at least sorted as they were supposed to. It was not that uncommon for all books to be ripped of their shelves and to be only hastily stuffed back. Having found the book to sit at least on the correct shelf, he retrieved it as quickly as possible under the handicap of having to use a ladder to access it.
When he returned downstairs, Twilight was already eagerly waiting for her book. “Did you find it?”
Having a sudden idea, he clutched the book tighter. “I'll only give it to you if you calm down, okay? You're really getting worked up about this.”
Twilight pouted. “But Spike, it doesn't make any sense!” she complained.
Knowing he had to be patient, he sighed and went along with it. “What doesn't make sense?” he encouraged Twilight to reflect on her problems so that she could compose herself again. He didn't really want to know what a nervous breakdown would do now that she was an alicorn.
Twilight took a deep breath. “The box is completely intact, it works perfectly fine.”
It wasn't quite the answer he had expected, so he asked further. He had to keep her talking, anyway. “So what? Isn't it supposed to work or something?”
Twilight spun around, starting to pace around him as she explained her predicament. “This box is a thousand years old. The spells on it have been reinforced and refreshed several times, but the original is still in place. It prevents anypony but me to open it. The problem is that you can't make a Marked Box for a pony you don't know, and certainly not for a pony that hasn't even been born yet. It is similar to having something tailor-made, as it has to perfectly conform to that pony to recognize it.”
“It's a box tailor-made for you before you were even born?” Spike summed up, trying to make sure he understood what she meant.
“That's only one half of it.“ Twilight continued her artificial orbit that slowly started to make Spike dizzy. “The parchments inside are probably even older, the mean age I measure from the preservation spells is around fifteen centuries. However, I'm getting a standard deviation of six centuries.”
Spike blinked. “And that's bad.”
Judging from the blank look on his face, Spike didn't understand her. “Yes!” she emphasized. “The standard deviation is usually lower than ten percent of the mean. I've never seen such a variance when using this method.” With a wave of her horn, she shoved a piece of paper in Spike's face. “I mean, just look at the data!”
Spike looked at what seemed to be a very squiggly line with a timescale below it. He scratched his head. “It looks like a very squiggly line.”
“Exactly”, Twilight cried, “The spectral lines are diffuse and dispersed over nearly all of the timeline. It's almost like—” She interrupted herself for a gasp and stood frozen, a mad grin on her face.
“Like what?” Spike quickly asked, fearing she might fall back into erratic behaviour.
But Twilight zipped off, rummaging through the neat stack of paper lying on her desk. Quickly, she produced another sheet. “Aha!” She levitated it over to Spike. “See?”
If anything, this line was even more crude and unsteady. “Yes.” He found himself at a loss of words. “Very... Um... Squiggly?”
Twilight looked over his shoulder and smiled, full of joy. “I know,” she squeed. “It's wonderful, isn't it?”
The look Spike gave Twilight was beyond confusion. “Er... So this wobbly line” – he waved the first sheet – “is bad and this wobbly line” – he waved the other graph – “is good?”
“No, no, no.” Twilight shook her head. “They both display an absurdly high variance, and now I know why. I took these measurement from Discord's statue last summer when the Princess could not tell me how old he was. His chaos magic must be what's distorting the data. Do you know what that means?”
“It's a prank by Discord?” Spike offered.
“These parchments that were in the box are from the Discordant Era.” Now, she was positively bouncing. An almost manic, utterly euphoric grin split her face horizontally. “Until now, there were literally no written accounts of that time. During that era, we lost nearly everything that defined our culture. Our society itself was abolished. The only reason ponies didn't starve in thousands was the abundance of edible matter created by Discord. You remember the chocolate rain, don't you? The Hearth's Warming Pageant contains about everything we know of the historical events during the time before. When Discord was defeated, Equestria had to be founded again because nothing remained of the governmental structure and all legislation had been lost. We don't even know how long Discord reigned. Do you have any idea how valuable these documents could be?”
She didn't wait for Spike to reply but instead flew over to her desk. I write 'flew' because it is the word that most accurately describes the way she moved. Of course, she didn't really fly as she had not yet learned how to manoeuvre with her new wings. Still, she hardly touched the ground so 'flew' is probably appropriate.
On the desk laid the documents that excited her so, a small wonky pile of yellowed parchment, partly torn and sometimes singed. Truly, she hadn't paid much attention to it when she had measured its age so it was only now that she noticed a small note pinned to the topmost sheet.
Your Royal Highness, My sincere apologies for the poor state of Your vital documents. I would have preferred to pass them to You unscathed, but the civil war hath not been easy on us.
Yours most faithfully,
Goodwyrm Doo, the 4th of Snow, 12 years after The Nightmare
Twilight was quite astonished. “I think these are the first historical documents to apologise for not being optimally preserved.”
Spike climbed on her back and looked over her shoulder. Glancing at the sheet the note was pinned to, he remarked the drawing of a unicorn with a “Is that Rarity?”
Part One: The Prophecy, The Princess and The Portal
Chapter Six: Spell It
Element of Generosity
name unknown
expert garment designer
The original Element of Generosity got affected by a love poison and killed by a dragon 505 before Princess Luna's Banishment. Used by Princess Celestia to petrify Discord. Used by Princess Celestia to banish Princess Luna.
“I don't think so” Twilight said. “The similarity is probably a coincidence. This is more than a thousand years old, after all. But there's something else that is remarkable here.” She didn't wait for Spike to express his curiosity and urge her to continue. He probably wouldn't have done that, anyway. “What happened to this 'original Element of Generosity' bears a striking resemblance to the origin story of Hearts and Hooves Day. It would be interesting to find out whether this old legend actually holds some truth. I'll have to keep it in mind for cross-referencing.”
Spike just rolled his eyes.
Twilight smiled and set the first page aside to take a look at the second.
Element of Honesty
name contains the word 'apple'
competent farmer note: wears a hat
The original Element of Honesty was run over by a brigade of troopers 501 before Princess Luna's Banishment. Used by Princess Luna to petrify Discord. Used by Princess Celestia to banish Princess Luna.
Spike snorted in a mocking way. “A 'garment designer' that looks like Rarity and a farmer that looks like Applejack are of course just a coincidence. Did I mention they are also the Elements of Generosity and Honesty?”
Twilight bit her lip, ignored Spike and pointed out the second impossibility on the sheet. “I don't understand why they give the date relative to the year Luna was banished. This was written before that happened, after all. Whoever wrote this would have to know how the future would look like.”
Element of Kindness
name unknown
skilled beastmaster
The original Element of Kindness was caught in a soda-anvil thunderstorm 499 before Princess Luna's Banishment. Used by Princess Celestia to petrify Discord. Used by Princess Celestia to banish Princess Luna.
Spike eyed Twilight, daring her to point out how impossible this all was. Twilight in turn sighed. “Well, if the Pinkie Sense taught me anything then that precognition is apparently not entirely impossible.”
They looked at the next page.
Element of Laughter
Pinkamena 'Pinkie' Diane Pie
improbable baker
The original Element of Laughter got stuck in a semi-stable time loop 1713, 1079 and 503 before and 1001, 1337, 2618 and 15713 after Princess Luna's Banishment. Used by Princess Luna to petrify Discord. Used by Princess Celestia to banish Princess Luna.
“I asked for it, didn't I?”
“What is a semi-stable time loop?” Spike asked.
“I don't know.” Twilight shook her head, not understanding any more of it than he did. “I guess Rainbow Dash is next?”
Element of Loyalty
Rainbow monosyllable word
legendary weather pony
The original Element of Loyalty got her mind and soul ripped off and was sealed into a gem 489 before Princess Luna's Banishment. Used by Princess Luna to petrify Discord. Used by Princess Celestia to banish Princess Luna.
She sighed.
Spike's face showed a complicated mixture of fascination, confusion and discomfort. He even managed to keep it steady for longer than five seconds. “It is really creepy how all these horrible things happened to the ponies who wielded the Elements before you. Do you know anything about that?”
“Princess Celestia never mentioned anything.”
Element of Magic
Dawnstar, Dusk Shine, Twilight Sparkle or a similar name
master magician
The original Element of Magic fell on her head, lost her teeth, was turned into a reptile and sent to the future 497 before Princess Luna's Banishment. Used by Princess Celestia to petrify Discord. Used by Princess Celestia to banish Princess Luna.
She groaned. “I just don't—This is getting ridiculous! I was looking for information on our distant past, not pictures of me and and my friends and obscure notes on some ponies' misery. Not to mention the information suggests foreknowledge of centuries, which, differently than the Pinkie Sense, I have no indication of its existence.” Twilight glared at the paper as she turned the page.
Dear Princess Twilight Sparkle, (While that is most probably Your name, I am not infallible and apologise if that should not be the case.) I write to You 1471 years before Your birth in the 983rd year after Princess Luna was banished into the moon for trying to bring eternal night. Even though we are set apart more than fourteen centuries, I know comparatively much about You. You were born the most talented unicorn in 2037 years, maybe even longer. You wield the Element of Magic and have used the Elements of Harmony to cleanse Princess Luna after she returned from her millennial banishment and to imprison Discord, the Spirit of Chaos, nearly two years afterwards. You have now, about four years after You first wielded the Element of Magic, risen to the status of a princess and transformed into an alicorn. Alas, You are more than all this. You are also a keen scholar of the arcane, a friend of books, a seeker of knowledge. I honour that as I myself only strive to learn. It is my hope and desire that we may learn from each other, so that You may teach me the magic of friendship and I may teach You the ways of time and space or the lore of Those Beyond or whatever lies within my grasp and sparks Your interest. However, I am weak here and I cannot reach You from my cold and lonesome state, for I am not of this world. I can only send You this letter, written by the hooves of my faithful student, hope that it may reach You and wait for Your reply. In case You decide to converse with me, You can use the enclosed spell, which, as You can easily see, opens a link of time and space through which light and sound may travel.
I eagerly await and hope for an opportunity to speak with You.
Yours sincerely
on behalf, Princess Everfree, 489th year before Princess Luna's banishment, 473rd year after the founding of Equestria
P.S.: I compiled and enclosed some material on the wielders of the Elements of Harmony. I just thought it might interest you.
With every line she read, the frown dominating Princess Twilight's face deepened. After finishing the supposedly impossible document, she flipped it a few turns, in the faint hope there would be some kind of explanation on the backside. There was not. “Who wrote this? Why do they want to talk to me? And who is Princess Everfree?” She turned to Spike to have somepony to direct her rant at. “Do you know that this letter here practically rules out any other logical explanation than predicting the future? And, even worse, its not just some hunches or glimpses of the immediate future or obscure and imprecise prophecies. No, this suggests accurately determining exactly what will happen several centuries later—Huh?” She blinked and looked down at Spike, who had picked a piece of parchment that had fallen of her desk. “What is that?”
“It's one of your oh so important historical thingies. You got so worked up you blew it away.” He pointed a scaly digit at her widely flared wings. Twilight blushed slightly. Truly, she had not noticed flapping them while going on about the insidious letter.
Wings are really something to get used to, she thought as she grabbed the sheet Spike was holding in her spell.
She immediately noticed the different writing style. Where the other pages had featured a fine, narrow, and simplistic variety of letters, this particular sheet of vellum featured the wide, complex, ornate and somewhat elegant runes that composed the abstract symbol language of spellcraft, introduced long ago during the Two Sisters' reign by some forgotten Arch Mage of the Magi's Guild – an organisation that had by now transitioned into Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns.
The spell on the tattered and worn piece of parchment was possibly one of the most intricate and complex spells she had ever laid her eyes on. While it didn't have the massive power requirements of, say, an age spell, it was definitely comparable to long distance teleportation. The high difficulty of this spell was for the most part due to the precision and multi-layered thinking that was required to execute the different sub-routines at the same time without disturbing the delicate calibration of the main components. Some of the secondary patterns seemed familiar, though.
“A confined illusion? But where do you specify it?”
Instead of using a pre-made descriptive matrix or a direct imprint by its caster's mind, as was customary, the spell referred to a particular part of its basic structure as a dynamic source of describing matrices. Quite many of the basic patterns were very similar to that of a teleportation or another instantaneous transmission spell that relied on space-time warping. But while her teleportation spells encased her inside a threedimensional space bubble that would move along the hypothetical fifth and sixth dimensional axes to traverse variable distances, this spell would created a pinpoint curvature, a hyperbolic funnel not in physical space-time but in a separate, yet linked vectorial space, some kind of non-physical plane overlaying the physical world. A few quick calculations and a look at Star Swirl's 'Universal Model of Time and Space' confirmed that the plane in question was in fact the highly theoretical astral plane, a place where Star Swirl believed all magic and all minds were rooted, also acting as some kind of overhead for the empirically proven dreamscape. Thus, the spell would presumably create a warp in a layer of existence where only thoughts and magic could exist.
“An information tunnel... but where to?”
Once again, the spell would not accept any direct influence from its caster, but rather followed a peculiar and indeterminable pattern of actions. Tracing the mechanisms back to their origin, Twilight discovered the answer to her question: Similar to some ritualistic spells, this one required a suitable focus to channel and control the arcane energies and some of its major components.
She eyed the encircled polygon at the centre of the parchment. This sigil would direct the astral funnel, but it still didn't give her any valid position in time or space. Even with her understanding of how the spell would interpret the rune composition, the specifications it gave seemed wrong, out of place. Looking at it searching for spatial coordinates was like measuring a remaining angle in a right triangle with the result being a volume divided by a tensile force.
Nevertheless, it now seemed clear to her what the spell did. “It channels information from one place to another and creates an image from that information. With such a spell, you can talk to somepony that is miles away. Even better, the spell should act regardless of distance in space and time. A few modifications, and it might allow us to see into the past! That is, if it actually works.”
And this was, in fact, the question that filled her with burning curiosity. The question whether the spell would work could, however, not be answered simply by studying its structures. It was far too complex and extended into many areas of magic that had not been sufficiently researched, as, for example, the astral plane. The only way to find out was to try. Twilight felt uneasy. The last time she had tried a spell of uncertain use, things had become rather unpleasant. She glanced down at the spell again as she wondered how to resolve the issue of the potential hazard casting the spell would present.
In the area of testing experimental spells with the possibility of dangerous side effects, research unicorns often employed so-called arcano-hermetic seals, a type of magical forcefield that could absorb most magical impacts. They were quite simple to cast, but didn't really have any use aside from containing rogue spells or shielding off magic radiation. Any somewhat accomplished sorcerer could bypass them with little effort, and solid matter went right through them. When testing the effects of a new spell, at least one researcher would erect such a seal while their colleague would perform the spell inside the shielded area.
She, on the other hoof, was alone. Theoretically, it was possible to create such a field, then bypass it without destroying it and cast a spell inside the field while safely standing outside the field. Once in place, the field would take little effort to sustain. In fact, the largest strain would arise from the amount of magic this would require. A hermetic seal, while comparatively simple and incredibly effective against uncoordinated magic energy, took quite a lot of power to cast. It would be immensely difficult to do this with this particular spell, but as long as she prioritised the forcefield, there wasn't really anything that could go wrong, aside from her failing to cast this information transit spell. If one considered the possible gain, however...
Twilight decided it was worth a shot. She put the heap of ancient parchments under a decent preservation spell, stored them in the Marked Box where she had found them and proceeded to clear an area in the centre of her basement lab. After she had moved piles of books, alchemical set-ups and a few heavy worktables to the walls, she arranged several of her high-end technomantic measurement devices around the free space. She had also used some of them when trying to find an explanation for the ominous 'Pinkie Sense' and now figured that using these sensitive devices to measure the arcane fluctuations caused by the spell, she would get some results even if she didn't manage to cast it or if it failed for some other reason.
Naturally, they would have to be calibrated properly, so she cast the arcano-hermetic seal and adjusted the sensors to account for the distortion caused by the forcefield. When all of them had been aligned to the centre of the spherical field, it was time to put the spell's focus into place.
She looked at the page again and concentrated on the central polygon. Ever so slowly, an exact copy of the eight-sided star took shape before her eyes, composed completely of her soft-glowing magenta magic. As the construct was finished, it sunk lightly onto her waiting hoof. It was delicate as a snowflake, like an ink drawing from which the paper had been removed. It was now, alas fragile, able to exist independent from her concentration, a two-dimensional slice of proto-matter, a thin sheet of solidified magic. Twilight grasped it in her telekinesis, slowly moving it towards the hermetic barrier. She held her breath. This was the crucial part of the preparations. She would now have to circumvent the seal while contemporarily sustaining it, without crushing the focus by accident.
Slowly, the floating diagram sunk into the surface of the forcefield, in fact a difficult process akin to manoeuvring a thread through the eye of a needle without fraying its end (or without breaking a snowflake attached to said end). After a painful minute of vigilant silence, Twilight finally released her breath. The focus was suspended inside the barrier, her telekinetic grasp, the magic that was an extension of her will, had bypassed her own seal.
She regarded the machines to check whether they were working as they were supposed to. A quick glance showed her they were registering her construct right as she had created it. She gave a small smile, wiped away the thin film of sweat that had accumulated above her brows and reset her tiara.
Now, everything was ready for the spell itself.
She charged her already glowing horn further up and started the third of the three spells she was parallely casting: First, the containment seal; second, a minor suspension spell to keep the focus aloft at the forcefield's centre; lastly, the information transition spell she was actually trying out. It was by far the most difficult of the three. Due to its decentralised, parallelised sub-routine structure, casting it was on its own like casting at least four different spells. Still, this wasn't the only peculiarity the spell featured. Instead of branching out from a central basis around which several functional components were aligned, this spell required a basic structure to be in place first, like a framework into which the other parts had to be fitted with minute accuracy. If any of the components where placed incorrectly or slightly malformed, none of the rest would fit and the whole spell would fall apart. She put the framework into place and waited for it to accept her focus. It quickly did so, extrapolating various patterns from the octagon-bound rune complex. Now Twilight would put the spell together piece by piece, first realising a sub-component as a magic pattern and then precisely integrating it into the framework. Every now and then, she looked at the graphs the machines were spewing out as she poured more and more power into the spell. It didn't really do anything until she placed the last component, a connective grid which would allow the other sub-components to interact not only with the mainframe, but also directly with each other.
As the final piece snapped into place, the spell autonomously severed the connection to its caster and started warping the astral plane around it into a narrow funnel, as the graphs seemed to confirm. The floating, glowing focus rotated with increasing speed, shrinking as it was slowly filling the deepening warp in the other dimension.
For Twilight Sparkle, it was some kind of relief as the spell would now function on its own. The only spell she would have to keep up was the forcefield.
The funnel was now completed, the spell stuck in it like a cork in a bottle. Then, suddenly, the very centre of the funnel started fluctuating wildly, indicated by the readings from the apparati. She reasoned this would be the connection being established as the funnel connected to wherever the focus it had directed to. The spell was now only visible as a small, vibrant orb of light.
And then, the orb expanded, flashed and quickly changed shape and colour. There, inside the hermetic field, stood a violet unicorn, or at least the fascinatingly realistic image of a unicorn. In fact, the only thing that made Twilight make this distinction was that she knew the spell would create illusory images and that her unreal guest lacked magic of her own. The unicorn was rather young, even younger than she had been when she first came to Ponyville. She also was thin, not the desirable slim-and-attractive-thin though, but rather the unpleasant been-through-a-famine-thin that was the result of a low food per time density. Below her light blue mane, a pair of yellowish – the greenish yellow of autumn leaves, not the one of sunflowers – eyes gave her a piercing gaze. The mare bowed slightly, a smile playing around her lips. “Greetings, Princess Twilight Sparkle. It is a great pleasure to finally meet you. Would Her Highness mind if I dropped the formal tone and spoke to Her as one does to their next?”
Twilight stared at the other pony. The spell had worked, that much was clear. She had, while the possible use of such a spell for means of communication was discernible, not expected it to be in such a direct manner. The question that escaped her before she could think of a better one was indeed the most obvious. “Who are you?”
The smile returned, wandering across the unicorn's face like a reader's eyes wandered across a book's pages. “Who am I?”, she repeated, showing glee at receiving the question. “That is a question with a multitude of answers and I do not yet know all of them. Nevertheless, I will attempt to answer it to a certain degree. What you see before you is the illusory image of my dear friend Goodwyrm and what you hear is a reconstruction of her voice, both utilised to commune. My role in history is that of a selfish benefactor. While my actions were serving the sole purpose of enabling this very conversation, Equestria would be in a arguably less favourable state now if my past influence had not been. My calling is that of a scholar, I seek to know what there is to know. As to what I am , I am afraid I do not have a precise answer as I only have a vague idea of my state of being. And if you wish to know my name, I will have to disappoint you as I do not know it.”
Taken slightly aback by the strange answer, Twilight half stated, half asked “So you wrote that letter.”
The smile had faded, making way for an expression of mild curiosity, one that signalled the conversation to be pleasant, nonetheless to be costing very little mental effort. “As much is obvious,” she confirmed.
“Yes”, Twilight said as another thought struck her, a detail that caught her attention. “But why don't you have a name? Doesn't everypony have one?”
“I am afraid you misunderstood.” An eyebrow arched upwards into a nearly flawless parabola. “My name is indeed existent, only unknown. Its nature is such that knowing it is equivalent to knowing all that is knowable. You can not know my one true name if you are not omniscient. Consequently, if you know my name, you are in fact omniscient. It is a mutual dependence. An equivalence. Aside from my one true name, however, if I consciously bind myself to an existence within a world, I take a name for the way I exist in it – and the other way round. Again, these are mutually dependent. I personally prefer to call this named existence an incarnation because it often involves gaining a physical body. As I am currently not incarnate in Equestria, I do not know my name here because I have not chosen it yet and also can not do so at this moment.”
A little into that monologue, the unicorn had begun idly wandering the basement, casually passing the hermetic barrier just like a normal pony would. Twilight decided to remove the seal as there wasn't really much point to it if the spell it was supposed to contain was not actually in it. She also noticed that the spell, despite being separated from her, didn't seem to destabilise, a sign that it was maintained from elsewhere. Wherever this nameless other magic user was, she claimed not to be in Equestria. Though, she had used that name as if to describe the whole universe, not just the kingdom, which made Twilight wonder. “If you are not in Equestria, where are you?” she asked, minding to keep the wording the same as her partner in dialogue.
The illusory pony, Goodwyrm, rose a hoof to her chin, just as if the notion of location was a quite curious one. “For the most part, I do not exist at all. While I do so at a number of places and times, the portion of me that is is, while immense, infinitesimal when compared to the part that is not.”
That didn't seem to make sense. Either this other pony had some very... unique views on reality, or she was quite confused regarding the topic. Partial non-existence? What was that supposed to be? Apparently, Twilight's confusion had been visible on her face as Goodwyrm quickly begun to elaborate.
“Imagine a foggy night in Ponyville. Outside, you have the darkness. This is the Void, where nothing is. There is also the fog, which is me. It pervades the darkness and therefore is not. In the village, you have houses. These are like your world. The houses are full of light, so that the things inside exist.” Goodwyrm's horn glowed, and the translucent image of a house appeared above her. Of course she was not really using magic, as Twilight noticed, but merely expanding the illusion that made her appear. The house was small, light shone from its curtained windows, billowing fog surrounded it. “The fog can peek inside through the windows and catch a few specks of light, but it can not get in. What you are doing right now is looking through a gap between the curtains and talking to the fog outside.” The fog pressed itself against the glass, taking on strange shapes wherever the light fell on it. The curtains moved, and a small pony peeked through them, smiling and waving down at Twilight.
Princess Twilight slowly nodded. A unique view it was. Still, she did not know whether this truly was a non-pony being from outside the world or just a pony gone mad. However, the facts that this being was supposedly more than fourteen centuries old and that the focus had not targeted a normal place or time seemed to make the former much more likely. She assumed this as her working hypothesis and looked up at the little house. “And if somepony opens the door, the fog can get in and that is your incarnation, right?”
“Yes,” Goodwyrm hissed, putting great emphasis on the last letter. “However, only a small fraction of the fog can enter the building. As the outside is many times larger than the inside, most of the fog is not to be contained within the light. This is how the world appears to me. There are those who are like the ponies inside the house. They are mortals because they live finite lives in time, space and matter. Then there are Those Beyond who are alike the fog. They are without time and space and matter and such not limited by them, eternal and endless. I am one of them. But we can not see each other because there is no light. We exist separately, or rather not-exist separately, therefore we are alone. Of course, this allegory of light, fog and darkness fails as you illuminate other aspects, but it still is a nice way for you to imagine it, even if it is largely inaccurate.”
It was an intriguing idea, the concept of a being that existed ('exist' didn't seem to be the right word) independent from what was commonly referred to as reality, Twilight had to admit. But what was currently more interesting then the fact she could talk to such a being like to a normal pony was what this being had just implied. “So there are more like you?” Twilight was somewhere between fascination and fearful irritation.
“We are alike, brethren, but all different,” Goodwyrm confirmed. An amused glint lit up in her yellow eyes. “I believe you have already encountered One of Those Beyond, who is incarnate Discord.”
All fascination vanished and she took an instinctive step backwards as Twilight's stomach clenched, feeling as if it had fallen into icy water. “You are like Discord?!” Twilight blurted out, her voice on the edge between alarm and hysteria.
The creature that used Goodwyrm's shape threw her head back and chuckled. “Calm child. Saying I am like Discord is like saying you are like Sombra. We are akin, but vastly different. We both are from beyond, yes. But while he is Chaos, I am Knowledge. He is like, and yet unlike me.” She glanced at Twilight's sceptical expression. “You do not trust me. That is good, for else you would have been naïve. And if you were, it would only benefit those who want you ill.” The glint returned, this time accompanied by a tight-lipped smirk. “In a royal, naivety can turn out to be quite the lethal disability.”
Twilight was glaring some more at the self-righteous illusion when realization struck her like one of Pinkie's rich chocolate cream cakes. “You wanted me to get suspicious. You knew how I would react. Just like—”, her eyes widened as she remembered the infuriating letter, “—you knew I would cast the spell. There are perhaps half a dozen ponies alive who could pull that spell off, but you somehow knew I would. You knew I was going to get that letter...” she trailed off. Goodwyrm was looking at her, head tilted to the side, eyebrow raised. “You dated the letter in relation to when Luna was banished. You knew she was going to turn into Nightmare Moon. How could you know all these things before they actually happened?”
Clicking her tongue, Goodwyrm dismissively waved a hoof. “It is really not that big a mystery. In fact, it is mainly a matter of perspective. For me, looking at the course of history is a bit like watching a delectable dessert on a parabolic arc through the air. You can estimate what path it will take, where it will land and that the floor will have to be cleaned afterwards, but not much more. I know what will most probably happen by extrapolating what has happened, but nothing too detailed, just as you might estimate the course of an object by its trajectory. However, this course is affected by even the slightest breeze, just as a single word at the right place and time can change the fate of a nation a hundred years later. To conclude, I foresaw, for example, the day of your birth 535635 days before it took place, but that we now talk to each other has stemmed from my intent and is the result of my doing.” She clapped/clopped her front hooves together. “Now that we are on the topic of our very conversation, I would like to negate its excessive one-sidedness and ask you how you managed to correctly rewrite Star Swirl's spell. I knew you would, but the technical details eluded me. For centuries I have been looking forward to learn them.”
Having not had an opportunity to elaborately discuss the details of this spell, Twilight could hardly resist going on another lecturer's rampage, even given the odd circumstances. “It may sound a bit strange, but I'm actually not quite sure what Star Swirl's spell was supposed to do.” She blinked, flashing a nervous smile. “I know it switched my friends' cutie marks, but it didn't work right, after all. I can only assume that Star Swirl wanted to use the Elements of Harmony to empower a pony so that they can fulfil their destiny. It doesn't make much sense, because the Elements of Harmony first appeared when the Princesses used them to defeat Discord. Even though Star Swirl could not have known them and didn't understand their base principle, friendship, the spell was designed to interact with the Elements and actually managed to do so. If anyone else but an Element bearer happened to use the original version written by Star Swirl, nothing would have happened.”
Goodwyrm was listening focusedly and nodded both to express approval of her thesis and to invite her to proceed.
Encouraged such, Twilight quickly continued. “Thus, it has to have been a spell made to transfer magic from the Elements to a pony. Any other explanation would be even more implausible. Still, Star Swirl did a great job considering he understood neither how friendship or the Elements work. You see, both the Elements and friendship act on a common principle of—er...” She fumbled, for an instant unable to find a fitting expression. “Togetherness, yes. The Elements of Harmony can only work when all of them are used together. A single Element can do next to nothing, just like a single pony cannot form a bond of friendship. Star Swirl did not know this, so his spell does not reflect this togetherness, but rather the sense of egocentricity and individualism prevalent to his era.” She smiled at the image of Goodwyrm, hoping for a sign of approval.
“'From one to another, another to one. One mark of destiny singled out alone, fulfilled.'” Goodwyrm quoted in agreement. “Yes, I see what you mean.”
“What I realised was that, just like friends help each other, a spell utilizing the Elements would have to be supported by friendship, by all the ponies connected to them. It isn't just enough to activate the Elements together, you have to activate them together with your friends. You mustn't think of the Elements as something separate when you use them, the Elements and the bearers have to form a unity. Once I had figured out what that meant for the spell, I only had to listen to my heart to tell me how to set it right in detail, to find a wording that reflected what I thought and felt.” She noticed the expression on Goodwyrm's face had changed from eager curiosity to—something new, an emotion she didn't think she had ever seen before. The strange look the other pony gave her made her feel uneasy. “It isn't as silly as you might think. Like friendship itself, the magic of friendship stems from the heart, and like the heart guides the friendship, it guides the magic. “ She averted her gaze, not wanting to look into the eerily probing yellow eyes. “I suppose it is a bit difficult to understand without experiencing it yourself.”
“I understand,” Came the voice of Goodwyrm, carrying a tone like a truckload of tombstones. “As it appears, I envy you because you can listen to your heart. It seems to simplify things greatly.”
She looked up to find Goodwyrm giving her a sad little smile. She blinked, trying to reclaim the track her thoughts had been travelling along. “Anyway, in some ways I understand how the Elements of Harmony work, I understand how to use them and how their bearers interact with each other and with the Elements, but I don't really know how the Elements interact with each other or how their magic works, other than that it is based on the magic of friendship. Because I don't understand the Elements completely, I also don't really know what the spell does,” she explained.
“The Elements of Harmony,” Goodwyrm commented, her voice light once more, “are a whole world just by themselves.”
“Speaking of which, what is the matter with these 'original Elements of Harmony' you mentioned in your letter's appendix?”
Spreading slowly, a knowing smile contorted Goodwyrm's features. “Dear Twilight”, she said, “I think it is time I told you the tale of the Six Princesses.” She cleared her throat, which, in spite of being a pointless thing to do for an illusion, served the purpose of creating a brief pause before the story itself and giving her time to flare up her horn and make a floating frame appear before Twilight, inside which a moving picture accented her tale.
“Our story begins in a setting which you are undoubtedly familiar with: Fleeing from a long, harsh winter and a devastating famine, the three pony nations of old each discovered the plentiful land of Equestria, each nation claiming it for themselves in spite of the other two. The ensuing war did not only further weaken the three tribes, but also attracted the herd of windigos who brought the cold with them.”
The frame filled with a dark, cloud-covered sky and a bright, snow-covered plain. Countless dots moved to and fro amongst the snow, like ants swarming their hill. Every now and then, a flash of light erupted from one of the dots, courtesy of the offensive spells hurled by the unicorn war mages.
“The situation worsened till the day of the final battle. This day might have been the end of the ponies, they would have fallen either to their brethren's hooves, horns and wings or the deadly chill of the windigos. But this is not what happened.”
All movement in the picture ceased. The dots grew, ponies became recognisable, pegasi, unicorns, earth ponies, all ceased to fight, all stared at the sky, wide-eyed, open-mouthed, ears twitching to sounds Twilight did not hear. Then fear started to spread on the faces as they saw the malicious spirits circling above, beginning to comprehend the dreadful demise they had brought upon themselves.
“When the ponies realised they had unknowingly sealed their own fate, a single unicorn stepped forth, one known as Clover, and spoke to the armies. He spoke of peace, of friendship, of happiness, of overcoming hate, of overcoming the windigos, of overcoming the winter. He spoke of the sun, of spring, of growth, of love and warmth. In short: he spoke of the hope for a better future. And when he had spoken, a wonder happened: the ponies believed in what he said.”
A stallion came into view, arguing, gesturing, quickly pleading to the rallied soldiers. As his mouth closed, his shoulders slouched, his hopeful gaze swept over the ponies, the sun rose behind him and a rainbow of colours burst forth. Multi-hued light soared across the skies, sweeping away the heavy clouds. The ponies looked up again, hope reflecting in their faces. Clover's eyes began to glow, and purple flames erupted from his horn. The picture faded.
“You all know what happened next: The Fire of Friendship ignited, the three tribes made peace, Equestria was founded. During these early days of the newly founded land, six fillies were born, two from each tribe, all on the same day. These fillies were something utterly new, possessing an earth pony's strength, a pegasus' wings and a unicorn's horn. They were children of destiny, destined to Harmony. So strong was the bond of their destiny, each of them had her mark since their first days.”
The symbol of Harmony appeared inside the frame, six gems set in gold; the Elements of Harmony. Then the golden ornaments broke away and the gems aligned in a line: violet, orange, green, blue, red and purple. From the gems grew six beautiful mares, horned and winged, their flanks adorned with the gem they sprouted from.
“They were the first bearers of the Elements of Harmony: The Princess of Generosity, who thought of those in need and who gave in abundance. The Princess of Honesty, who was a righteous judge and an open mind. The Princess of Kindness, wishing to put an end to all suffering and to heal all wounds. The Princess of Laughter, full of joy and optimism. The Princess of Loyalty, whose first care was always for her subjects. The Princess of Magic, clever, powerful and a wonderful friend. They were brought together as newborn foals and they were raised together, sisters in everything but their blood. Through their natural might, their cooperation, their embodiment of the ideals Clover had envisioned and their destined control over day and night they quickly came to hold power over the three tribes and led Equestria to her first golden age of prosperity. Through combined effort, they led the nation to become what Clover the Clever had imagined: a land in which the ponies of all tribes lived in peace and friendship and the tribes would coexist for their mutual benefit. After their reign had lasted four decades, 'alicorn' had become just another word for 'princess' and Equestria now encompassed what had remained of the tribal nations and exceeded them in wealth. After four centuries, Equestria was nearly as big as she is now. There was peace with the neighbouring countries, bad harvests were a thing of the past, clothing was a decorative luxury, not protection from the weather. The windigos were thought to be extinct, what remained of the great monsters of the past had been imprisoned in Tartarus. 'Alicorn' had become just another word for 'goddess'. Equestria's glory and her princesses' power had reached their zenith.”
Gleaming cities and great castles with shining spires flew by. Wide fields bore rich seas of golden grain. Big, colourful fruit hung from the great trees of opulent orchards. Crowds of ponies jubilated, cheering up at the Six Princesses.
“Its downfall was heralded by a single unicorn prince, who wished to court the Princess of Generosity. Blinded by his love and his fear of rejection, he listened to a spirit that promised him an end to his doubts and reciprocation of his feelings and gave him a love potion's recipe. Arranging a dinner with the Princess, he replaced the drinks with the potion and as they both took a sip and gazed into each others' eyes, they fell under its spell, hypnotised by their emotions.”
Two ponies, mare and stallion filled the frame, staring into each others eyes over a dinner table.
“The exact convolutions of that day have been preserved as the Tale of Hearts and Hooves Day. I do not have time or reason to expand on them. What is important for our story is that by the time the remaining princesses arrived at their sister's castle, nothing but smouldering ruins were left of it and the Princess of Generosity had died in the dragonfire.”
Flames consumed the image and the six alicorns appeared once again. The first burst up in flames and quickly burned to a pile of ashes.
“The spirit revealed himself and declared his rule over Equestria. What followed in the years after this could be described as a war in which the Princesses fought the spirit to hold him at bay. In truth, they never stood the slightest chance. They could not even stall him. The fight only went on because it amused the Spirit of Chaos. And he crushed them, one by one. The spirit shattered and scattered the Princess of Laughter over the whole of reality. The Princesses of Honesty and Kindness fell victim to the havoc he wrought.”
In a flash, one of the princesses broke into contorting, iridescent smears that glittered for a moment and vanished. Another fell down and was trampled by many feet. A third was crushed by a humongous chunk of iron.
“The Princess of Magic challenged the spirit to a magic duel and lost.”
One of the last two princesses started shaking, slammed to the ground and turned into something small and green before vanishing in a vortex of blinding colours.
“And when the last princess invoked his ire, the spirit made her destiny become reality.”
The remaining alicorn shrunk away until only the gem that had been her cutie mark remained. Finally, the frame emptied again and faded.
“That is the brief tale of the Six Princesses, from their birth up to their end, the tale of the rise of Equestria, her first golden age and her fall and the beginning of the Reign of Chaos.”
As she wrapped up her story, the tranquil and slightly absent expression that had appeared while she had been talking disappeared and made way for a grim little mixture between a frown and a smile. “Alas, while I have thoroughly enjoyed it, we will have to cut this conversation short. Hopefully, it will only be the first of many.” She gave a bow and backed away a few steps.
Having looked forward to asking some questions about the story, Twilight frowned. An actual frown with furrowed eyebrows, not the tight-lipped thing Goodwyrm had on her face. “What's the matter?” She inquired.
Goodwyrm raised both eyebrows as simply raising a single one didn't seem to suffice. “Our time is up. Alea iacta sunt. You have an appointment.”
As far as Twilight remembered, and she did as clear and bright as a diamond in daylight, she had scheduled the whole day for studying (though she had done a terrific job getting distracted), so there weren't any appointments. The statement was puzzling and, even worse, seemed illogical. “What do you mean?”
Goodwyrm once more recycled the good old knowing smirk. “If somepony asks about me, tell them about the gate and the key.”
And with that, she imploded as the spell that created the illusion dissolved into a tacky little wisp of magenta smoke that elegantly twirled upwards. After Twilight had spent approximately π seconds (matching up to at least seven digits) blinking, staring at the space were the image of Goodwyrm had stood and being generally puzzled, a very unique noise interrupted her confusion.
It was a very characteristic noise, and if you had heard it once, you would probably recognise it as soon as you heard it again. It was a mechanic sort of noise, like a very hard-working engine, starting on a high note and finishing on a low one, a metallic, resonating sort of screech that lasted for about a second. Twilight's ear twitched. It had come from above, she noted as her confusion was replaced by more confusion. The noise repeated itself, stronger this time.
It has to be Pinkie, she decided as she climbed the stairs while the recurring noise kept up. We have left her alone upstairs and now she's up to something crazy.
But, differently than she had hoped, it wasn't Pinkie Pie who was creating the noise. It was a big blue outhouse with a spinning light perched atop its slightly peaked roof, and it was slowly materialising right in the middle of Princess Twilight Sparkle's living room. For some indiscernible reason, the sight of the noisy blue box filled her with the notion of psychotic pepper-grinders thoroughly disliking this box. She quickly discarded the thought, though, and decided to be angry. This was her living room, after all. Her living room, in her library. Which was supposed to be quiet.
It was okay if things appeared when she cast spells that would make things appear. It was not okay if strange blue boxes appeared, well, out of the blue. She glared at its blue door. It opened, and out stepped a rather unexpected guest.
He regarded the room with a quick glance and then smiled at her widely. “Good afternoon, Miss Sparkle. I'm the Doctor.”
Part One: The Prophecy, The Princess and The Portal
Chapter Seven: Draconic
"As I glance upon the core again and again, its light sets my heart aglow. I send my eyes across the burning seas below, the broken crust above. I see the world-isles fly, and as I stand here, on the singular anchor of order in a typhoon of chaos, I cannot help but feel that the great Nyarlathotep is but a most wondrous artist, and our world but his canvas. Who are we to deny our souls to his majesty and madness?"
—Sand Song, 477 before Nightmare Moon
Twilight Sparkle raised an eyebrow. “Discord, I don't know what kind of silly game you're playing, but you'll stop it at once!”
The spirit reeled back, his eyes wide and round as yellow saucers, and laid a paw on his chest in an overly dramatised display of shock. “Gasp, I say. How for the sake of Luna's mane could you possibly see through my elaborate disguise?”
Twilight looked at him. Impossibly long draconequine body, mismatched body parts, snaggletooth, eyebrows like a train accident, just as always. It took her several seconds to get what he meant by 'disguise'. “You call a bowtie and a fez a disguise?” she asked, incredulous.
Discord pouted and turned his muzzle upwards, leering at her in a certain aristocratic fashion. “Bowties are cool, and so are fezzes,” he declared mustardly. “A trait that a certain killjoy apparently lacks.”
“Look, I don't really appreciate ponies just randomly appearing in my house.” Twilight sighed. Dealing with Discord always proved to be exhausting. “Could you please just tell me what you want and get going?”
“Well,” Discord said in a uninterested tone while he developed a sudden fascination with the claws on his paw. “I would be minding my own business, but there just was this little supradimensional incident that just happened here, only a few minutes ago. I don't suppose you know anything about it?”
“A supradimensional incident?” Twilight echoed, getting a sudden feeling that she would not like the direction this conversation was going.
Discord looked up from his paw, staring into her violet eyes with his strange mismatched ones. “You know, the rift that opened right in your hermetic seal?”
A sheepish grin spread on Twilight's face like oil on water. “Ah, er...” – she gave a nervous little laugh – “You see, I found this spell... ” It occurred to her that the Princess might get wind of this. Something snapped inside her head, and she panicked, much to Discord's delight. “I was really cautious and it only opened a very small rift and nothing bad happened and nothing came through and all's fine and please don't tell the Princess.”
Discord grinned at her very, very widely and very, very slowly raised a bushy, white eyebrow. “And just why do you think you can be so sure nothing came over to this side?”
“The funnel was strictly non-physical,” She said meekly. “Only information could pass through it.”
After resetting his spectacles and scanning the evaluation table, he gave her answer a nod. “The preferred solution would have been 'there is not enough running, screaming, dying and general destruction', but I'll also give your answer a pass.” He tossed the glasses into his gaping mouth and sat down comfortably on Twilight's back, chewing thoughtfully. “So I take it you came into contact with an external spirit.” Laughing, he didn't even wait for her to answer. “That's got to be the dumbest thing you ever did. Tell me, what was it like?”
Twilight turned her head, looking up to him. “It was actually one of the most interesting conversations I've had in some time. I'll admit she had some strange quirks, but otherwise it was really pleasant.”
Momentarily, Discord looked mildly baffled, but then his features returned to the devilish delight he had been showcasing before. “This just keeps getting better! You actually managed to find one that was clever enough to speak coherently enough to make for a pleasant conversation.” He squealed with laughter. “Oh, Twilight, you are a riot. I just wonder which spirit would talk to you without melting your brain...” He stroked his goatee, staring up to the ceiling in a way that made it seem like he was pondering what to have for dinner. He decided upon a decent twaddle of beeswax served with pig iron bars made of Francium.
Somehow, Twilight didn't share his fascination with culinary eccentricities and rather seemed to be a little irritated with his remark on the usual ramifications of consulting an outer spirit without the buffer of a physical manifestation. “Melt my brain?!” Twilight screeched, terror at such a horrid suggestion giving her voice a shrill edge.
Discord could only give her attitude a condescending chuckle. “Relax, Twilight Sparkle. You're neither dead nor equicidally insane, so all's fine.” He patted her head, causing her tiara to slide down and fall into her eyes. Not knowing but suspecting he'd done this on purpose, Twilight groaned, set the crown right with her telekinesis and wearily eyed the old spirit that was still sitting on her back. It occurred to her he didn't weigh anything. He was also still smiling at her in a terribly smug fashion. “Now, who was it you talked to?”
“I don't really know. The only name she mentioned was 'Goodwyrm', but that was just the pony she appeared as. She said she herself didn't have a name because she was not in this universe.”
“Goodwyrm?” A smile of mischievous glee appeared on Discord's long face, replacing the smile of terrible smugness. “She was quite the troublemaker, wasn't she? Excellent entertainment for my poor old stoned self. She was nearly as funny as little Luna going stark raving mad and assaulting her big sister.” He chuckled so evilly that Twilight had to remind herself that in spite of his horrible sense of humour, he was now reformed.
Then she remembered something else. “Wait a moment!” she exclaimed. “I don't know who she was, but she seemed to know you were coming and told me to mention a gate and a key. Can you make something of that?” she asked hopefully.
Discord's face fell. He got up and quickly swooped down to pick it up. After placing it back on the front of his head, he turned to Twilight. “The Gate and the Key?”
“Um, yes?” She faltered under his intensive glare. The look he gave her was one that was usually restricted to giving to very irritating people that carry around big bombs.
Quickly grasping her by the shoulders, he started to shake her and cried “Do you have any idea how dangerous that thing is?”
“I-i don't thi-ink she-e can ca-ause mu-uch tro-ouble,” Twilight managed to get out. “A-as fa-ar as I-i got i-it, she-e ca-annot affe-ect u-us beca-ause she-e's lo-ocked outsi-ide of ti-ime a-and spa-a-ace.” Both of them remained silent for several seconds, Twilight's head bobbing forth and back as Discord kept shaking. “Co-ould yo-ou sto-o-op tha-at?” she added.
Discord abruptly dropped her and quietly grumbled “It was able to talk to you. That's all it needs.” He turned around, facing the bookshelves. “Words have much more power than you might think. So much power in fact that ponies build houses for them.” He turned back to Twilight, who had just gotten up from the floor. “Words can make ponies do things, Twilight. Never forget that. Remember how I got you to enter that palace labyrinth? Words.” He spat out the word. “That thing is great at making others do its work. While other monsters run around killing thousands, poisoning the earth and causing general fear and hopelessness, that thing can achieve pretty much the same by telling the right ponies some bits and pieces about nucleons, socialism, economics and other silly ideological stuff.” He looked down at her and sighed. “Even if it was just able to 'pass through information', as you called it, it could—”
“Use the psychic link to this dimension to impose a fragment of its conscious matrices refined into an autonomous memetic agent unto the mind of an impressible youth that just happened to be in the same room.”
Princess Twilight and (formerly King) Discord spun around, Discord doing a bit more spinning than necessary. There, next to the blue box, apparently having entered unnoticed, stood a small baby dragon, arms folded, smirking in an intolerable manner. He was purple and had a line of green spines running down his back, in fact, he looked exactly like Spike, but, as far as Twilight was concerned, couldn't possibly be Spike. While he looked like him, everything else was completely off. The posture was wrong, as were tone and accent of his voice. His gaze was sharp and his eyes were much harder than Spike's ever were.
The smirk dampened into an amused smile and the dragon opened his arms towards the draconequus in a welcoming gesture. “It has been a long time. How have you been?”
Looming over the small Spike lookalike, Discord scratched his chin in a certain thoughtful way that is used by those who have encountered a tricky problems. “I can't really complain. Got turned to stone once or twice, but otherwise—” – he shrugged – “Let's just say all's fine and dandy.”
The little thing that looked so disturbingly similar to Spike nodded. “I am glad to hear that. Anyway, I am sorry to be slightly late, but I had to bypass some terribly low safety measurements that were comprised of 0.813cm of dry wood and a substandard mechanic ward lock to fetch a vital component first. I hope that you two have not gotten bored and fallen in love with each other while I was busy bobbing around on these ridiculously short stumps.” He looked down at his legs.
Discord looked down at Twilight. Twilight looked up at Discord. 'Spike' looked up at Discord and Twilight. They looked down at him.
“Why would I fall in love with Discord of all ponies?” Twilight asked.
Spike's doppelgänger shrugged. “I honestly do not know. Apparently, the issue is somehow related to nautical vehicles.”
“Whatever.” Discord pushed the subject aside with a dismissive wave of his talon. It crashed into one of the shelves with a dull thud.
There, it would would later manage to start a nomadic life amidst the books covers, preaching to the letters of the ultimate god 'Discolight' and even accumulating a followership of a few dozen capitalized vowels.
“Spikey-wikey, I can't help but wonder how you have the nerve to just waltz in here. None of us will help you. In fact, what exactly stops me from blasting you to Tartarus right now?”
As he replied, 'Spike's' voice took on an uninterested, bored and, most prominently, painfully sarcastic tone. “Nothing, really. Go ahead, banish me to Tartarus, tear me to pieces or throw me into a fiery pit. Certainly none of Spike's pony friends shall miss him. Especially Fluttershy should not take her beloved baby dragon friend meeting a gruesome fate by your claws too badly.”
It wasn't as if she hadn't suspected it, but having actually confirmed that the dragon in front of her was, at least physically, Spike was too much for Twilight to keep quiet. “You're using him! You're using Spike for your own ends!” Twilight accused the thing that had taken control of her little stepbrother's body.
“That is correct,” 'Spike' confirmed, his tone one of indifference. “I have told you that it is a good thing not to trust me. Still, do not mistake my willingness to accord to necessities as hostility. I wish and plan no harm for Spike.”
“Likely story,” Discord cut in. His features displayed an unreadable encompassment of joy, anger, scepticism, joy, confusion, attic and joy. “Should I tell Twilight what happened to the last ponies you possessed?”
“The only harm that is brought to those that host me is the harm that is brought to them by others in a way that I can not prevent,” 'Spike' snapped. For the fraction of a second, his face twitched, contorting into something that related to a facial expression like an explosion related to a bunny. Then the unpony thing subsided to a smile, combined with the familiar glint of amusement in his eyes. “I find it a curious notion that you of all beings, Discord, should imply that it is I who would be responsible for an unfavourable fate that befell my host.” His eyes flitted away from Discord and pierced Twilight's. “You, Twilight, would be well advised not to place too much trust in the virtually nonexistent reliability of that spirit. Trusting him would be even more naïve than trusting me.”
“Discord has changed. He is reformed now, our ally and friend,” Twilight said firmly. She would not let that thing drive a wedge between her and one of her friends, even if said friend needed the definition of the word to be stretched considerably to even be called such.
“You mortals always show the same shortsightedness. Your own mortality makes it difficult to understand those who do not die. You fail to see that what you call the long term is less than the blink of an eye for a true immortal. For now, Discord may behave affably as Fluttershy is his friend. You might take into consideration that Fluttershy will not live forever. Discord will.” With a short wave of his claw, 'Spike' interrupted anything Twilight or Discord might have wanted to say. “But that is not what I wish to talk about. Technically, I have little need for this talk at all. My presence here is only due to a single irreplaceable action that has to be taken at the correct place and time.”
Discord snorted derisively. “As if there was much you could do. You're stuck in a puny dragon's head, without magic, without power. Twilight Sparkle here had better chances of winning the Running of the Leaves than you have of achieving anything.”
The dragon stared up at the Spirit of Chaos, unfazed. His expression was rigid, his voice droned. “That is correct. My current options are insufficient for me to complete my task. Therefore, I have, to widen my range of possibilities, acquired this.”
He held a claw before his face and breathed out. Wisps of green fire escaped his throat and curled around his digits. With a flash of light, the flames abruptly coalesced into a small necklace, a metal effigy of an alicorn inlaid with red gemstone, grasped tightly in the dragons claw.
“But you're a dragon!” chimed Twilight quickly, recognising the artefact. “The Alicorn Amulet can only be used by ponies.”
“Excellent, Twilight. That is correct. However, I am no simple amateurish, revenge-driven, idiotic unicorn who has obviously not read the recommended user manual.” A fleeting moment of anger reflected in 'Spike's' eyes. “As such, I aim for nothing less than setting its full power free. Simply using the Amulet in not an option.” With a sudden, violent jerk he spun around to face the shelved wall next to the stairs. His tiny arms flew up, holding the Alicorn Amulet high above his head. “Hear me, O she who stands between darkness and light, and be my witness!” 'Spike' boomed. The window panes and the showcase shook and clinked. “Hear me, O he who brings forth neverending strife, and be my witness!” The floor started to vibrate faintly. Twilight thought she could hear a sound, silent, in the distance. A sound like churning rocks and electric buzzing and crackling.
“Hear me now, O she who writes down destiny; hear me, mistress of fate, for I am the architect of the fate you decided!” The great gem at the Amulet's very centre began to glow from within, the brilliant red light casting eerie shadows on the tree library's walls. A faint whispering, like angry bees trapped in a tin canister, filled the room.
Twilight glanced at Discord. His fur was standing on end, his face contorted in rage, his fists clenched in angry disbelief. Churning his teeth, he silently hissed “You—you cheating human!”
'Spike' rose his voice once more. This time, it didn't even sound like Spike's voice any more. There was a choir of silent voices beneath his own, mixing into a swelling tide of words. With each syllable, the Alicorn Amulet pulsed with magic, sending the words through the astral aether, so that Twilight not only had to hear them with her ears, but with her mind as well. It were words without language, conveying their meaning not via memory and association, but through intent to be understood. It were not words spoken by a being of flesh, blood and bone, it was meaning externalized by a child of the Void.
once bound and shackled in a frozen urn the star has risen since the moon's return now whole rejoicing and forever free as was determined to be destiny
With a small, clear snap, the glowing stone cracked. Forth burst bright ribbons of magic, circling, enveloping the small dragon, sinking into him. Spike shook, his eyes pressed shut, the amulet crumbling in his claws. The brilliant red magic pulsed relentlessly around him, slowly seeping into his skull. Slowly, the crackling energy subsided, leaving Spike standing, quivering, his fingers aimlessly clawing at the grey dust that seeped through them, the drained remains of the Alicorn Amulet. Then his cramped stature slackened, his posture changing with the suddenness, swiftness and grace of an attacking cobra. His eyes opened.
They were red. Nothing remained in them, no pupil, no iris, no sclera, only crimson glow. No love, no hate, no anger, no feeling, only swirling pools of magic. It were eyes that didn't see the world. It were eyes that forced the world to be seen, pulling it apart, relentlessly searching for even the finest, most delicate detail. Nothing escaped those eyes.
Twilight swayed. In those eyes, she saw a mind that knew no joy and no pain, a mind that never forgot. It was terribly narrow, thinking in obscure mathematical terminology, knowing only absolutes, rejecting any shade of grey. It was a mind that didn't see colour, only light. And yet, despite its obvious limits, its inability to see and feel what she took for granted, it was vast, surpassing everything she could ever have imagined. It was not one mind, it was many, yet not even a single one, an eldritch choir that had no song to sing, an orchestra without instruments. A fluttering feeling of fright took hold of Twilight when she realised this mind somehow contained hers within itself. She felt like she had been living in a glass cage for her entire life, and only now she saw it. When she looked into those eyes, they looked into her.
The eyes blinked. The doors to Tartarus slammed shut.
'You Are One.'
Twilight staggered as her mind, moments ago lost in the monstrous eyes, was forcibly cast back into her own body.
'I Am All.'
The gaze of those eyes and of the mind behind them shifted from her like a tremendous weight. 'Spike' locked eyes with Discord. Still staring, Twilight saw, perhaps for a fleeting moment, Discord's reflection in those glowing red eyes, in this horrid mind. Luckily, it was so short she wasn't actually able to recognise anything she saw or even commit it to memory. Still, the sensation of the image of Chaos flooded her short time memory and hit her hard. A collision with a metric ton of bricks would have left her less dazed. The world dissolved into a bubbling stew of omnivolent sensations.
Through the prismal haze around her mind and the mint-flavoured ringing in her ears, she could still faintly hear the ironic, nasal whine that the Spirit of Chaos called a voice. “You can hardly call that fair play. Really, your unlawful handling of even the most basic manners of courtesy has deeply wounded me!”
Through the numb tingling of her limbs – How many do I have? – and the blue-pitched burning of her organs, Twilight could feel something wide, cold and hard pressing onto her side. She was lying on the floor.
“Verily, What Have I Done To Earn Such Harsh Words?” The voice of the Many-None answered, carrying a component that was beyond audible sound, a component that resonated in one's mind, causing them to simply know what had been said without bothering to transmit the impression of perceiving it being said. “I Merely Took The One Course Of Action That Benefited Most.”
Twilight discovered a new use for her eyes. They could enable her to see. And she saw, beyond the salty storm of music-coloured oblong triangles, Discord and the Spike-creature. The former was arrogantly leering down at the latter. “Still, that bit of power can hardly compare with my glory. You've got still no chance of winning this,” Discord taunted. Around him, countless hideous shadows fled, flailing invisible appendages in unearthly terror.
'Spike' stood proud to face the draconequus, like a cold torch of red flames, scattering the horrors the sun of Chaos cast on the world. The whole of existence squirmed under the burning gaze of the chaotic god, yet the mind of the Many-None, channelled through the meaningless husk of the baby dragon, held firm to face the unbearable one. “I Am Sorry To Disappoint, Discord, But We Are Not Playing Any More. I Already Have Won.” The endless eyes contorted the dragon's face into a smirk. “It Was A Pleasure To Meet You Two.”
A short, purplish-scaled arm extended, claws at its end quickly moving, together and away. With a snap of Spike's claws, the world shattered in a multitude of well-designed, harmonic shapes that sprung from the claws. A raging gulf of masterfully controlled magic enveloped the small dragon and whisked him away. He whose eyes saw all was gone.
“Oh, this is simply wonderful,” Discord grouched both sarcastically and under his breath. He turned towards her, then bent his great face down towards her, a halo of octarine lightning surrounding his antler and horn-crowned head. “Twilight, you're drooling.”
She slowly drew a ragged breath, desperate to answer the old one above her. “Iä! Iä! N'hreg!” she managed to compassionately blurt out a proclamation of His Reign.
Discord sighed and shook his head. “Twilight Sparkle, you choose the worst of times for your neurotic breakdowns. I'm reformed, remember? No more 'hail Discord, king of chaos', if you please.”
“Cthulhu fhtagn,” she blubbered apologetically, shamefully eyeing the amused half-frown embedded in the abomination's face.
Discord mumbled an indifferent “Yeah, he's famous for his naps.”, grabbed her head by the horn and carefully unscrewed the upper half. “A-ha! There's the culprit!” He reached into her open skull and swiftly pulled the brain out. Materializing a canister of bleach, a wet sponge, parsley and polishing cloth in a rapid succession of flashes of light, he proceeded to clean the icky lump of neurons before plunging it back into its place. In the end, he put the lid back into place and pressed it shut.
The world freed itself of the omnipresent haze with a painful jolt. Twilight found herself lying on the floor, face sideways in a smallish pool of spit. Her tiara had fallen off and one wing was stuck uncomfortably beneath her rump. “Wha—What happened?”
“You went insane for a bit. Or was it sane? With you, I can't really tell the difference...” Discord thoughtfully scratched his chin before making a dismissive gesture with his lion paw. “Doesn't matter. I fixed it.”
Groaning, Twilight heaved herself up onto her hooves again. She decided to ignore his crude remark. If she would show it bothered her, she'd just play into his paws. “What about Spike?”
The playful grin that was playing around Discord's lips dampened, his voice grew more serious. “That stone contained a monster that was imprisoned in there long ago. It is now in Spike's body, undoubtedly trying to gain more power.” His face suddenly lit up, like a candle had started burning in his skull. “And it's your fault. Everything you have done, every single thing from the moment you moved to Ponyville up to today, when you opened the gate to the other side, has only served to help that thing to break free.” He widely beamed down at her.
“What?” Twilight gasped before she could stop herself. “That's impossible! How could—”
“You are blind, Twilight Sparkle.” His voice swam with arrogance and faint disgust. “Unlike me, you do not see, you do not understand. It used you, Twilight. It used you and your friends and the princesses and you all never noticed.” He sighed. It wasn't a nice sigh, rather more a bit of a groan. It was a sigh-groan that told you that you were extraordinarily stupid and talking to you was extremely enervating. “They do that, you know,” he said quietly. “The things that come from beyond the world. They use you, no matter what you want, no matter what you are. They just see their own ends, no morality, no good, no evil. If it suits them, they gouge out your eyes and eat them. Or they turn you into a god, or a dog, or a corpse. You ponies believe there is something good in everything and everypony. 'Good' is one of them.” Discord turned, spiralling up to the ceiling. “In a way, you brought this upon you entirely on your own.” He grinned down at the oh so amusing little pony below him. “It would be so much fun to just sit back and let it all happen. Let that thing tear apart your world, burn the stars, feed on your souls. Let you ponies pay the price of your ignorance. Let the universe sink into utter chaos.” The master of chaos giggled, his face had taken on a dreamy expression. But then his features hardened. “But I won't. Because that thing mustn't hurt Fluttershy. It won't let it hurt my little ponies.”
“If you don't want us to get hurt, why didn't you save Spike?” Twilight asked with somewhat more than a trace of accusation. It was at least a big hint of accusation.
“What was I supposed to do, Princess knows-it-all?” Discord said, his face hovering just a hoof's breadth before hers as he lounged in the air. “You can't possibly suggest I should have turned him into chewing gum or something like that.”
“Spike was being controlled!” she griped. “Couldn't you just have removed the spell he was under?”
“In case it went over your head, that thing was everything other than willing to simply let your precious assistant go. It would've tried to cling to his mind with all its might.”
Twilight could hardly believe what she thought she had heard. “Are you telling me you were just too lazy to save Spike?!”
“No, I just thought the splatters of his little fried dragon brains would look bad on the carpet.” He grinned gleefully at her horrified expression. “But if I had known you wouldn't mind...”
“Okay, I get it. But what can we do if there is no way to free Spike of that thing?”
“I never said there wasn't a way. It's only me who can't do anything. You see,” Discord elaborated, “The thing that's controlling Spike is basically just a mind. However, it's one that stems from outside of reality, so my power to alter reality doesn't really help me here. I can't directly affect this thing with my magic, I can only affect the body it inhabits, sadly at the risk of destroying the latter in the process.”
“So we have to get somepony to help us,” Twilight surmised.
“You don't say,” mocked Discord.
She ignored him, thinking about what measures to take. If anything, the situation seemed quite dire. While Discord and the Goodwyrm-Spike-thing had disagreed on quite a number of things, there was one issue both had been clear about: The thing now in Spike's body was something ancient not of her world, and it posed a great potential threat. “I'm going to fetch my friends,” she decided. “You can go to Canterlot and bring the princesses here. I'm sure we'll be able to figure something out together.”
Major Discord the draconequus saluted, medals shining on his uniform, posture as rigid as a plank. That was, if said plank was able to convey the impression of rigidity with a parodying sense of ironic mockery. “As thou commandest, Your Princessnesscess.” He brought his booted heels together in an audible clack and was gone in a chiming sound of light.
Princess Twilight Sparkle, first of her name, protégée of Princess Celestia of Equestria, sister-in-law to Princess Mi Amore Cadenza of the Crystal Empire, Golden Oak Librarian, Ponyville Winter Wrap Up All Team Organizer, Element of Magic, Dawn of the Eternal Night, Vanquisher of Disharmony, Saviour of the Crystal Empire and newest Princess of Equestria left her ivory tower (the metaphorical one in Ponyville that was in fact a library inside a tree, not the actual ivory tower she inhabited in Canterlot) with a triumphant feeling of optimistic determination. The fate of her little brother, and perhaps even of the whole of Equestria, was at stake, but if there was one thing she could rely on in her time of need, it was the aid of her true, true friends. She rose her glowing face to the shining early afternoon sun, feeling the rhythm of a song well up in her throat as the pegasus guard on her left, an individual blessed with the finesse of a bulldozer, cleared his own with a rather unceremonious, unmelodious, but nevertheless respectful cough.
“Your Highness, may I report back to you?”
Interrupted in her thoughts, Twilight turned her head to look at her personal bodyguard in confusion. “About what exactly?” she inquired.
“About the intruder, Your Highness.” The pegasus saluted dutifully. “I followed him south, up to the edge of the Everfree Forest, which he entered. The culprit then avoided apprehension through the use of terrain advantage. Singlehooved persecution was nigh impossible and highly risky, so I returned to my post to report and await further orders.” He stood to attention, and saluted once more.
Of course! She had forgotten the strange pony who had brought the Marked Box in the first place. He had to have something to do with all this. Twilight was both elated at the information and angry at her own tardiness. However, she gave the soldier a smile. “Thank you, sir. That might actually be useful.”
And forth went the purple alicorn mare in her quest to retrieve her friends from their present daily lives, and with her came the two stallions in arms who (supposedly) protected her.
The Golden Oak Library was quiet once more, its owners had left. Aside from the tree itself, only two notably living beings were left in it. One was a sleepy owl and secondary librarian assistant, the other was wooden, blue and oblong.
A strange whirring noise from the door pierced the silence, and, as if by magic (surprisingly, it was not), the previously locked door opened.
In the doorway stood a tan earth pony, carrying a short metal rod with a glowing tip in his mouth. As he looked into the quiet refuge for all things written, his eyes fell on something spectacularly both out of place and ingeniously disguised. The frown he had been wearing dropped into relief.
“So there you are.” He sighed, putting away the screwdriver wherever it was that ponies would put away their screwdrivers.
The stallion snuck in, closing the library door behind him. The big blue box remained unresponsive.
“I still can't believe he threw me out like that.” He offered her a sheepish grin. “Not to mention he kidnapped you. Anyway, off we go!” He enthusiastically opened the box's door and was promptly welcomed by a ground-pony-missile with a fruit pastry warhead, also known as an assault cake, which targeted its delicious greeting directly at his slightly surprised face. He groaned loudly. “Pear pie. I should've known.”
Muttering a few silent curses, the pony disappeared into the box. The library appeared empty again. And then, with the unforgettable sound of its living engine and the blinking light at its top, the strange blue outhouse that was none slowly vanished as well.
Part One: The Prophecy, The Princess and The Portal
Chapter Eight: Counter-Plan
There have always been avid discussions about the nature of the universe.
In worlds without magic, such discussions usually concerned the physical world and the question whether something existed apart from that.
In worlds that had magic, where monsters could be summoned from the planes of Oblivion, Elder Things flew through the airless void using only wings or big blue alicorns walked the dreamscape, multiple planes of existence where a reality that had to be integrated into the cosmological system.
There where many different designs for such cosmologies. Examples included onion-like structures with a primal, chaotic, magical source of everything at the centre and the physical world on the outside, onions with the physical world on the inside and the empty void on the outside, cosmic foam, floating bubbles, layered cake, eleven-dimensional strings, you name it.
One problem with these planes was that, however you aligned them, your dimensional axes simply would not behave euclidean. Where the layman would expect perpendicular straight lines, the expert would speak of 'curved space-time' or 'astral feedback loops'. Some of the greatest experts on the matter would even speak of big balls of wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff.
At the end of it, however, there was something nearly everyone could agree on: things were connected. When a butterfly flapped its wings on the southern hemisphere of a planet, it might cause a tornado on the northern hemisphere. When you look up in the sky, maybe you and your future best friends are all looking at the same rainbow. When an anvil falls onto your head, it might hurt.
When the Alicorn Amulet was destroyed, it sent an almost imperceptible ripple through the physical, astral and metaphysical planes of Equestria, signalling those who could read the signs what had transpired. The conscious and subconscious reactions to this signal in turn caused further, albeit weaker ripples that resonated throughout Equestria, manifesting as a faint atmosphere of tension as the hungry, insane, crawling Things from the edge of reality pushed their hideous faces against the metaphorical window pane that separated reality from unreality, as they sensed a possible chance to gain the existence they longed for. They had sensed the monstrous mind that escaped the Amulet, and, instinctively grasping at least some of its intent, hoped for an opening in the dimensional barriers that kept them out. Deep below the Everfree Forest, a sophisticated apparatus designed to detect such ripples did as intended, and the automated announcement happily exclaimed the end of the schedule to the virtually nonexistent facility associates. The in fact only remaining associate cringed in horror as the voices in his head quintupled in volume. Up north in the Crystal Empire, the lingering traces of dark magic coalesced and enabled a blob of protoplasmic slime to wedge itself into existence. It landed on a rooftop with a dull and wet thud. On her throne up high in Canterlot, Princess Celestia was overcome by an inexplicable feeling of deja vu. Across the sea, a sack of rice toppled over. In Cloudsdale, a grey mailmare sneezed. In Ponyville, where the residents had, over the last three years, developed an almost Pinkie-Pie-like sense of danger (in fact, some of them actually used Pinkie Pie as an indicative for danger), the merchants packed their goods, mothers called their foals home and shops closed.
By the time Princess Twilight Sparkle, her five companions and two guards were on their way back to the library, the first bets as to what catastrophe would happen had already been made. Twilight Sparkle was completely oblivious towards all of this. She had mainly been focused on gathering all of her friends. Rainbow Dash in particular had been difficult to get hold of. Her guards had absolutely refused to simply let her teleport up to her friend's cloud home to check if she was there, and neither her nor them had been willing to give in. In the end, their rather heated argument (most of the heat had been on the Princess' side, though) had caused Rainbow, who had been napping on a nearby cloud, to show up and ask what all the fuss was about. Luckily, Pinkie, Rarity, Fluttershy and Applejack proved much less time-intensive to find, probably because they lived on the ground and usually followed somewhat predictable daily routines that didn't involve falling asleep on random clouds after an exhausting training session.
“So what's it that you need all of us for, Twilight?” Rainbow asked impatiently as they passed the guard-flanked door and entered the library. Twilight had so far been too worked up and hectic to explain what was going on, instead just pressing them to quickly come with her. The only kind of reason she had given so far had been along the lines of a quickly added “It's an emergency.”
However, before Twilight had any chance to answer, a second voice, clear and calm, made itself heard. “I would like to know as well, princess. What do you need me for?” It was Princess Celestia, sitting at the table in the library with a cup of tea, looking regal as ever. Now, she rose and started moving over to the small band of Element bearers and royal guards, who all quickly bowed.
Except Twilight. “I apologize for dropping the pleasantries, but hasn't Discord told you?”
Celestia chuckled lightly. “No, he just ran up to my throne and told me the Princess Twilight Sparkle demanded to see me and my sister. I didn't even have time to respond before he teleported me.” She gave Twilight a warm, caring look that bordered on concern without being worrisome. “This is quite unlike you, Twilight. You know you could have just sent me a letter, do you not? If the matter is pressing, I will always have time for you.”
“A letter, yes. Er—” Twilight shifted uncomfortably. She was already regretting sending Discord, even if it had been the fastest option. “You see, princess, that's somewhat part of the problem.”
Pinkie gasped. “It's the combo, isn't it?”
“Oh my, is it about Spike?” Fluttershy asked, concerned and completely ignoring Pinkie's outburst. “I sure hope he's all right.” She looked over at Twilight, worried and questioning.
Twilight drew in a deep breath and sighed. “An obscure being from ancient times has taken control of Spike. It has absorbed the power of the Alicorn Amulet and, according to Discord, threatens all of Equestria.”
“Taken control?” Rainbow asked, habitually floating about a wither's height above ground. “Is that something like that mind control thing that bug queen pulled off on your brother?”
“No. It's not using a spell to control him. It is inside his body, directly possessing him.”
“Do you know what kinda thing that thing is?” Applejack, who had just heard the term 'possession' in this particular context for the first time, asked, frowning.
Twilight shook her head. “Not really. Discord claims he knows it, but he hasn't told me much. I only know some bits and pieces.”
The air burst apart in a surge of magic that unnoticedly changed the colour of half the book covers in the library and Discord unfolded himself from formerly empty space. “I see that you already have begun briefing your little club without me.” He idly twirled through the air, ignoring that his manner of entering the building had nearly caused several heart attacks. “It doesn't matter, though. I already know everything you might tell me and Luna isn't coming. I couldn't find her anywhere inside Canterlot.”
“As I could have told you, had you given me the chance.” As Celestia spoke, Discord turned towards her, wearing an expression that managed to be both uninterested and amused. “She's down in Fillydelphia, hunting a particularly nasty dreamcrawler.”
When he didn't reply in any way but a stare that spoke volumes of how immensely boring he found Princess Luna's continuous efforts to protect the dreams of her subjects to be, Rarity spoke up, her voice betraying only thinly veiled disdain. “I can't say I'm glad you're here, Discord, but it would certainly be nice if you could tell us what exactly is happening to our poor Spike.”
Discord's eyes flashed mischievously as he shifted his attention towards the Bearer of Generosity. It once again occurred to him how much she looked like a marshmallow. But, sadly, he was reformed now, and turning ponies into living foodstuffs was apparently not okay. “Well, it is actually pretty complicated.” He took on a thoughtful look, glancing upwards. “It involves subjects so mystical and magical that it isn't really a surprise you pretty little ponies have trouble understanding.” He grinned. It was a good grin. Very condescending. Many teeth. “Let me put it in a way those, er, less versed in the matters of the multiverse can get:” He lowered his face down to Rarity's eye level, completely occupying her field of vision. “There's an evil guy in Spike's head. This evil guy makes Spike do evil stuff. The evil guy wants to get big and strong so it can do big evil stuff. You are a bunch of goody four shoes and want to put a stop to that.” He flashed his toothy grin at the other Elements as well. “Any questions?”
“I ain't gonna be believin' that somepony's evil just because you say so. So, how about you tell us all exactly what that thing is up to and how it's threatening Equestria?” Applejack shot a more than simply sceptical glare up to the spirit.
He landed in front of her, wings flapping, and shrugged. “I don't really know what it plans in the long run since it might do literally anything inside or outside your imagination, but right now, it seeks to open the gates to pandemonium.” Once again, he gave her that grin, then quickly added “Oh, and let's not forget that it kidnapped Spike.”
“On the matter of Spike, would you mind telling us why you don't save him?” Rarity asked somewhat accusingly.
“I can't.” Discord smiled, strangely happy. “My chaos magic wouldn't work for that.”
“Well,” Rarity sighed, “If that is true, I suppose it makes things a tad bit more complicated.”
“I don't see what the big deal is,” Dash complained. “Whatever it is, we'll just give it a blast with the Elements, and all'll be fine!”
“But if Discord says his magic won't work—” Twilight began, only to be interrupted by Rainbow Dash.
“The Elements are, like, Discord's total opposite,” Rainbow Dash claimed. “If his magic doesn't work well, they will work extra well.”
“Rainbow, I reckon we won't be needin' them for this one,” Applejack interjected. She had a bad feeling about the whole situation, especially Rainbow Dash' rash approach. “Using the Elements against Spike seems just a bit drastic, don't you think?”
“I am afraid I agree with Applejack.” Princess Celestia gave Rainbow Dash a reprimanding look and carefully articulated her voice to gain a certain stern edge that would both chide and emphasize. “The Elements of Harmony are not something to be trifled with.” She turned to the Spirit of Disharmony, steeling herself and reinforcing the mask that hid her emotions. She hated to admit it, but facing him, even after all those centuries, she still felt like the insecure little filly that had fearfully stumbled across the twisted landscape of a mad god's kingdom. “Now, Discord, you still have not told us what we're up against.”
Discord stretched and spun, grinning at her, the same grin he had worn so many years ago, a predatory grin that seemed to say 'My, what have we got here?' “Why, it's a mind-being, a spirit of some sort, if you want to call it that way.”
She gave a curt nod to signal she had understood. “You mentioned you can not deal with this being on your own. Is it also resistant to normal spells?” If it was completely impervious to magic, dealing with it would be very troublesome, considering it was a spirit.
Discord's eyes flashed. “Oh, really?” he mocked. “Not even you, Celestia, can tell the difference between my chaos and your everyday pony magic? No, your boring spells should work just fine.”
She ignored the jab and suppressed a sigh. He was doing a great job at being insufferable, but she would not give him the pleasure of showing him he got through to her. “You should know that I am not willing to judge a being based solely on your account, Discord.” He gave her an indignant look, but didn't say anything. She slightly raised her voice as she continued and let her gaze wander across Twilight and her friends. “This spirit will be given a chance to explain itself and its actions. If it is willing to cooperate, I will take every opportunity to settle this conflict amicably. If, however the spirit's motives prove to be as unsound as Discord claims and if it refuses to cooperate and release Spike, then I will forcefully exorcise it from his body.” Her horn lit with golden magic as she reached across the room and brought forth the Elements of Harmony from their case beside the staircase to the upper floors, floating them towards their bearers. “Twilight, you and your friends will stand by with the Elements, as a precaution if anything goes awry. I believe you can judge by yourself when to use them.” At the least, they would keep Discord in check. She still didn't fully trust him, especially now, in such a situation.
“Aren't you forgetting something, Celestia?” Discord droned, disturbing her thoughts.
Only a thousand years of practice prevented her face from slipping into confusion. “And what would that be?”
Discord steepled his fingers, smiling so sickeningly sweet the sofa clerk across the street got diabetes. “Well, I don't know about you, but I don't have the slightest idea where to find our little fire-breathing friend.”
Surprisingly, Twilight spoke up. “Actually, I might have an idea.”
“You do?” Discord coiled around, directing the demonic intensity of his gaze away from a relieved Celestia to a somewhat nervous Twilight Sparkle.
She nodded. “You see, there was this pony who intruded my library today. I believe he is a part of all this,” Twilight explained.
“Ooh!” came Pinkie Pie's excited voice. “You mean Mister MacMad-Eye!”
“Mister MacMad-Eye?” Rainbow asked, half believing she had misheard the name her pink friend had used.
“Yeah,” Pinkie confirmed. “He didn't have a name, so I made one up for him.”
“Ahem!” Twilight frowned at the two mares. She didn't particularly like being interrupted. When they gave her an apologetic look, she resumed her monologue, now certain to have their attention. “Anyway, one of my guards followed the trespasser to the Everfree Forest. I think this is where we might find Spike, too.”
“Um, excuse me, Twilight, but how are we going to find Spike in there?” Fluttershy asked quietly. “I mean, it's so big, and so dark, and so scary.” She was clearly not very keen on filching through the cursed woods for a small, possessed dragon.
Princess Celestia's mind raced. The Everfree Forest, so many memories connected her to this place. She even remembered the time when it had been pleasant and peaceful, not wild and disturbing.
It has absorbed the power of the Alicorn Amulet and, according to Discord, threatens all of Equestria, Twilight's words echoed in her mind.
...the Alicorn Amulet... ...all of Equestria...
Her stomach clenched as two yellow eyes rose from the depths of her memories, filled with despair and burning with hatred, flashing red with malevolent magic. And then, flames consumed the eyes, and everything else.
With some, I could not have mercy.
Reluctantly, she spoke up. “I believe—” “Isn't it—”
She blinked, her thoughts momentarily lost. Turning her head, she found Discord regarding her in mildly perturbed amusement. They had both started speaking at the same time.
Celestia smiled politely. “You go first, I insist.”
Discord raised his paw and claw as if to shield himself from her courteousness. “Celestia, please. I am curious whether you had the same idea as I.”
“As you wish.” Celestia gave him a nod. There wasn't really any point to arguing about this, anyway. She turned back to the Bearers of Harmony. “If this spirit is related to the Alicorn Amulet, it will have ventured to mine and Luna's old castle. In the distant past, an organisation of dark magicians used to have their headquarters in the city formerly surrounding the castle. They have used the Amulet in the past and I fear they might be connected to all this.”
Audibly gasping, Discord covered his mouth in a hyperbolic display of shock. “What a surprise! I wanted to suggest the very same thing!” Making a fantastic recovery from what definitely had nearly been a heart attack, he added a cheerful “Let's go!”
His paw produced a snap like a whiplash and the world was consumed by a synaesthetic blast of magical energy.
Once again, the library was empty and quiet. However, unsuspectingly guarding its front door stood a unicorn and a pegasus, donned in the armour of the Royal Guard, who had yet to realise that the princess they were supposed to be guarding had just been whisked away by one of the most dangerous beings in all of Equestria. They would find out about ten minutes later, when a pegasus messenger arrived from Canterlot to tell Her Royal Highness Princess Twilight Sparkle that Princess Celestia had been abducted by Discord.
Part One: The Prophecy, The Princess and The Portal
Chapter Nine: Checkmate
"For in the vastnesses transcending our world are shapes of darkness that seize and bind. The Affair that shambleth about in the night, the evil that defieth the Elder Sign, the Herd that stand watch at the secret portal each tomb is known to have and that thrive on that which groweth out of the tenants thereof: all these Blacknesses are lesser than He Who guardeth the Gateway: He Who will guide the rash one beyond all the worlds into the Abyss of unnamable devourers. For He is 'Umr At-Tawil, the Most Ancient One, which the scribe rendereth as The Prolonged of Life."
—The Necronomicon, Equestrian Edition by Sand Song
[Equestria, Everfree Forest; 2nd of Bloom in the year 1004 after Nightmare Moon]
The Everfree Forest was never truly peaceful, nor was the weather ever perfect. On this particular summer's day, it was, peculiarly, a bit foggy. Moist, white wisps curled up from the chasm surrounding the ruined castle, covering everything in a faint haze. Perhaps even more strangely, it was rather quiet. An eerie, waiting silence stretched through the whole wood, only briefly disturbed by a strange noise from one of its monstrous inhabitants or a lingering whisper from one of the Things on the edge of reality.
Sparks showered down on the moss-covered, broken tiles that made up the floor before the short set of stairs leading up to Everfree Castle's main entrance as the Spirit of Chaos himself teleported into the tree-shadowed gloom. With the draconequus, seven ponies and the six Elements of Harmony appeared, even though the latter were supposed to be enchanted with a spell that protected them from Discord's magic. While the ponies still stumbled around in a disoriented fashion, Discord already regarded his surroundings with an amused, playful fake-frown. “Gee, what happened to this place? It's a serious mess, no, a ruin!” He smirked at one of the ponies, one Princess Celestia of Equestria. “Haven't you paid your bills, Celestia?”
Instead of getting a reply, he got a blue pegasus snarling directly into his face. “Hey, warn us before you do that, would you?”
“I'm sorry, Rainbow Dash,” Discord said in the least apologetic way possible and smirked. “I didn't mean to frighten you.”
“Er—I'm not—It's just that—” Rainbow stuttered, fluttering backwards, furiously blushing. “Fluttershy!” she blurted out, pointing a hoof at her friend. “She might get frightened, not me. I asked because of her.”
“Now, Dash, don't be upset. I'm sure Discord only had the best of intentions.” Fluttershy spoke calmly over the spirit's light snickering. She turned to Discord, mildly scolding him. “Still, I was bit sudden, and you shouldn't just teleport somepony without asking first. It's not very polite, you know.”
Discord stopped laughing. He gave Fluttershy a look that even bordered on guilty and let his head hang down while fidgeting with his claws.
“Come on, girls,” Twilight said, setting into motion towards the ancient castle's front gates. “Let's get going. We have a friend to find!”
The princess and her fellowship left Discord standing in the fog, alone with Celestia. For a few seconds, they silently watched each other as more vapour billowed from the deep ravine.
“You might have to work on your attitude, Discord. While it is a fine thing to have fun, doing so at somepony else's expense is not,” Celestia finally said, then turned towards the castle, following her subjects.
Discord gave her an annoyed glare and blew a raspberry, but nonetheless took off the ground and slowly snaked through the air behind her.
The entrance hall of Everfree Castle was in a terrible state. The entire roof was missing, the high windows were long broken, the pillars crumbling. Yet its centre, marked by a great circle, was completely free of the creeping vines and ivy. It was here that the atmospheric tension was the strongest. From time to time, strange, misshapen shadows seemed to dance through the shimmering, thin veils of white fog, and if one listened keenly, they might think they heard eldritch voices whispering in the distance.
When Twilight had first been here, the great stone stand for the Elements of Harmony had occupied the centric circle. Now, it had been moved to the far wall and made way for a curious mosaic of various stone shapes, inlaid with gems and lines of metal. Around the room, at least two dozen stands of cast iron were littered, holding up great crystals, braziers that burned in unnatural hues, polished works of silver and glass and other strange objects, often twisted in strange angles and odd forms. Next to the great mosaic, currently lighting up a last brazier with his magic, stood the old unicorn in the tattered blue cloak. When the brazier was cast alight in coppery green flames, he turned to the six mares that had just entered his sanctum, his now steady gaze holding not only the nervous fear that never truly left, but also an insane, desperate euphoria. He swallowed, lips twitching, then bowed down to Twilight Sparkle, his muzzle nearly touching the cold marble.
“Princess Twilight Sparkle, Your Highness, what a grand honour to welcome you to this castle,” he muttered in one breath. “Just have a little patience and His Great Ancientness, the Watcher, will join us in no time. He's just, er, busy attending to a – er, hmm – 'nuqular'... thing, yes, a thing. I hope it—” He paused abruptly, staring past Twilight with the air of somepony looking at a tidal wave coming towards them. In the desert. Five hundred kilometres from the closest body of water. “Gah!” He jumped backwards, fright and surprise transforming into anger and defiance. Twilight turned her head to the source of the stallion's distress, but only found Princess Celestia, who had just come through the entrance behind them. “Don't come closer, murderer!” the old stallion bellowed, and his horn sparked to life with sizzling bubbles of lilac and green. “I know you. Don't think you can fool me. Tyrant!” He literally spat the last word, aiming his horn at Celestia, dark sparks of negative light dancing across its length.
Celestia's only response was a look of shock and horror that forced its way onto her face. Twilight shot confused glances back and forth, Rainbow Dash protectively sprung in front of her princess, spreading her wings to shield her from the crazed unicorn.
Through the castle gate curled Discord, faint interest reflected in his mien. Immediately, the dark magic around the unicorn's horn died away. With a bloodcurling scream, he dropped to the ground, his legs flailing through the air like that of a beetle on its back. The scream quickly died down to a miserable whimper; the stallion stared at the draconequus with an expression of utmost terror.
“What?” Discord responded to the various looks of displeasure he received from those ponies that currently weren't busy cringing in existential horror. “I didn't do anything!”
Before anypony present could delve deeper into the discussion there was a brief flash of magic, accompanied by faint popping sound and the appearance of a smallish dragon at the very centre of the arrangement of arcane paraphernalia. Eyes of red energy focused on the ponies and the half sonic half otherworldly voice of the Beyond One housed within Spike's skull spoke. “I Apologise For Letting You Wait, But Powering Up A Fission Reactor Is A Little Time-Consuming, Especially So If Those Who Constructed Said Reactor Had Actually No Idea Of Its Principle Of Operation.” He gave an amused little snort. “Now, What Can I Do For You?”
After a moment of stupefied silence only breached by the miserable whimpering of a certain terrified unicorn, Princess Celestia stepped forward. “So I take it you expected us?” she asked.
'Spike' shrugged nonchalantly. “I Did Not Rely On It. After All, I Do Have A Substitutive Plan Prepared.”
“Is Mister MacMad-Eye okay?” Pinkie asked quickly, pointing a hoof at the newly-christened stallion who still refrained from doing anything else but lying on his back, shivering, whimpering and looking frightened.
A wide smile spread on the dragon's chubby face, creating a stark contrast to the glowing, monochrome, emotionless eyes above it. “So You Made Him A Name. That Is Very Considerate Of You.” He turned to the Mister, smile vanishing as suddenly as it had come. “Cut The Worthless Sobbing, Get Back On Your Hooves And Say 'Thank You' To Miss Pie, Executive!” he commanded.
Mister MacMad-Eye furiously scrambled back on his hooves, swallowed and quickly blurted “Thank you to miss pie executive.” before standing silently shaking and staring wide-eyed at alternatingly either Discord or Celestia.
“Close Enough.” 'Spike' gave him another stern look before turning back to the Elements of Harmony, the ruler of Equestria and the Lord of Chaos. “I Hope He Did Not Behave Too Badly.”
“He insulted the Princess!” Rainbow Dash shouted, seeing it her duty to point that fact out.
Celestia herself thought otherwise. “It is of no concern,” she dismissed, “what is more important is the question who you are.”
'Spike' laughed, an eerie, resonating sound that made the hair on Twilight's neck stand on end. “There Is That Question Again, And Again The Complete Set Of Answers Is Within Neither The Known Nor The Unknowable. I Suppose It Would Help You Little If I Told You I Am A Dragon Possessed By A Coalescence Of An Alicorn Soul And An Astral Construct Imposed Unto This World By A Sapient Conceptual Entity. Thus, I Shall Refer To A Method Commonly Used By Mortals To Gain An Inkling Of Beings Such As Me. Epithets.” He spread his tiny arms in a grand gesture and floated off the ground, surrounded by a faint corona of red magic. His voice swelled to a gale that pierced ears and minds alike. “I Am The Watcher From The Shadows, I Am The Guardian And I Am The Gate. I Am He Who Lurks At The Threshold. I Am She Whose Eyes And Ears Are Everywhere. I Am It That Whispers In The Back Of Every Mind. I Was Before The Beginning And I Will Be After The End. I Am All That Is, And More.” The howling winds of his voice subsided as 'Spike' levitated back onto the ground. “In Case I Did Not Make Myself Clear, I Stem From Something That Is Of Such A Nature That Your Primitive Minds Are Incapable Of Understanding It. Now That This Is Out Of The Way, I Repeat, What Can I Do For You?” He looked at them expectantly, then turned to Applejack in the exact moment she spoke up.
“You could start with giving us Spike back,” Applejack said flatly. She clearly wasn't amused by the situation. The burning fires of magic that looked so misplaced in Spike's face were giving her the shivers and she didn't like what he had said about himself.
'Spike' bowed deeply. “Certainly, My Lady.” He looked up, expression blank and unreadable. “Which Of You Will Trade Places With Me, Then?”
“Trade places?” Twilight frowned, unsure what he (Or she? Or it? Maybe capitalize the pronoun?) was getting at.
“Yes, Twilight Sparkle.” He tilted Spike's head and folded his claws. “To Give You Spike Back, I Will Have To Leave His Body And Settle Down In Another.”
“Don't you have your own body?” Dash complained. His head snapped into her direction instantly.
“I Am Afraid Not, Though I Intend To Change That.” He smiled politely at the pegasus.
“You see?” Discord interrupted from his spot above them. “It's not cooperating. Because it's evil.”
Twilight ignored his incredibly productive, helpful and convincing comment. “Is this body business by any chance related to some kind of incarnation?” she asked, recalling the topic from her conversation with the image of Goodwyrm.
'Spike' clapped his claws together. Three times. Very slowly. *clap* *clap* *clap* “I Am Glad To See At Least Somepony Paid Attention. You See, I Came Here Because It Is Here That The Dimensional Barriers Are The Weakest.” He raised a claw, red light shining from its palm. In the magical lighting, a thin web of nigh-invisible cracks could be seen in the air around him, small trickles of magic slowly dripping through the cracks and into his body. He closed his hand and the light subsided, the cracks becoming invisible again. “You Would Simply Have To Wait Two Or Three Days Until I Have Prepared The Necessary Equipment To Be Able To Expand This Rift Into A Stable Passage. Then I Will Have A Body Of My Own Design, A Name To Cement My Existence And A Life To Lead According To My Wishes.” He smiled. “And You”, he continued, “Will Get Spike Back. Alternatively, One Of You Trades Places With Spike And He Is Returned To You Right Now.”
“Yeah,” Rainbow snorted aggressively, hovering closer. “Not gonna happen. How about we take the third option: You give us our friend back and take over nopony!”
'Spike' swivelled around in place to face Rainbow Dash, gesticulating with both arms and legs up at her, supported only by his short tail. “Dare I Believe My Ears? A Good Idea Actually Comes From You, Rainbow Dash, Of All Ponies?”
“You agree with her?” Rarity blinked, slightly taken aback.
'Spike' jumped back onto his feet, grinning broadly and creepily. “Why, Yes. Her Idea Is Brilliant After All.” He didn't react to Twilight mouthing “It is?” as a familiar glint of amusement appeared in his eyes. “Why Wait So Long When You, Between Either Discord, Celestia Or The Elements Of Harmony, Can Open The Portal Straight Away?” He waved his claws in Discord's direction to silence his protest before it even began. “Oh, But Of Course You Refuse To Do That, Because According To You, I Am Evil For Wanting What You All Take For Granted: Life. Corporeality.” He snorted before addressing the whole group with an all-encompassing gesture of his arm. “So All The Options We Have Are Compromised By Your Lack Of Cooperation. Option One Is That You Wait Some Thirty To Forty Hours Until I Can Return Spike. You Object. Option Two Is That One Of You Takes Spike's Place. You Refuse. Option Three Is That You Use The Considerable Magic Power At Your Disposal To Open The Gate Right Away. You Veto. We Cannot Proceed That Way. Assuming You Wish To Overcome This Impasse, I Would Suggest You Either Try To Think Of Alternate Options Or, If You Can Not Do So, You Should Change Your Mind.”
For some odd seconds, silence overruled what previously had been a conversation. Discord floated overhead, leaning against a broken pillar, his expression bordering on disinterest. Princess Celestia was still keeping up her poker face, hiding her uncertainty about what to make of 'Spike'. The Element Bearers were effectively silenced, Rainbow Dash was sulking, Twilight was tapping her chin rapidly with a forehoof, searching for a way out of the stalemate. The Last Listener to the Watcher was still caught somewhere between fear and awe and certainly had no intention of participating in the discussion. The Watcher himself stood completely still, face as expressive as a stone but eyes sparkling with confident glee.
Twilight Sparkle spoke up, having caught a detail that might, if not resolve the issue, at least help towards getting there. “Since you are a spirit of some sort, why do you need a body at all? Couldn't you just open this portal without possessing any body?”
“Any Body? I Do Not Need Any Body.” 'Spike' gave her an indignant look. “I Require A Body Whose Demise Would Be Unacceptable To Fluttershy So That Its Vulnerability May Protect Me From The Wrath Of Discord.”
“Discord is reformed now.” Fluttershy smiled comfortingly at the small dragon, immediately taking up the role of the protector of the small cute creature that was obviously frightened by something bigger than itself. “You don't have to be scared of him any more. I'm sure he won't hurt you.”
“Excuse Me?” he answered coldly, his piercing amaranth gaze burning deep into Fluttershy's soft cyan eyes, Fluttershy shrinking back as the telepathic component of the words echoed through her mind. “If It Were Not For His Reformation, He Would Have Sealed Me Away Without As Much As A Second Thought About Spike, And Turned His Little Dragon Body Into My Eternal Prison. Discord Being Reformed Was One Measure Among Many To Eliminate All Undesirable Outcomes From This Operation, Making It A Necessary Prerequisite Of This Successful Attempt At Incarnation. Do Not Tell Me About Discord's Reformation, Filly, For I Already Knew Of It When Your Ancestors Still Hid From Him Under The Carnivorous Trees Of The Southern Syrup Swamp! It Was My Idea!” 'Spike's' voice calmed down as he continued. “As You See, While Discord's Reformation, As The Reformation Of A Villain, Is Very Much In Line With The Equestrian Doctrine Of Love And Tolerance, It Is Also A Very Risky Operation That Is Only Viable To Be Undertaken Under Very Specific Circumstances. Without A Functioning Group Of Element Bearers, Any Attempt Would Be Doomed To Failure Since He Can Not Be Kept In Check Otherwise. Moreover, A Certain Urgency And Necessity Of Reformation Has To Be Instated To Properly Motivate Such An Undertaking. One Such Motivation Could Be Provided Through A Threat Or Possible Threat That The Elements Are Incapable Of Dealing With. Another Would Be The Information That Discord's Imprisonment By The Elements Is By No Means Permanent. While The Latter Is Easily Achieved Through Disrupting The Elements Themselves To Weaken The Seal Holding Him, Causing An Early Return That Left No Doubt Of The Threat He Posed, The Former Is Slightly More Difficult To Set Up.”
Above, Discord rolled his eyes exasperatedly, his white eyebrows spelling out 'get on with it'.
“The Elements Of Harmony Cannot Resolve An Issue If They Defunct. An Element Bearer Falling Into Madness, Possibly In The Wake Of Serious Mental Strain Or Gaining Great Power, Would Cause Both A Threat And A Malfunction Of The Elements. The Ascension To Alicornhood, Which Includes Both Gaining Power As Well As Mental Strain Due To Fundamental Changes Of Body And Nervous System As Well As The Possibility Of Immortality And The Status Of A Princess, Is Well-Suited For Establishing The Danger Of A Fall From Grace. The Driving Force For Such An Ascension Would Necessarily Stem From A Strong Emotional Bond Between A Bearer And Celestia, One Of The Few Who Are Actually Able To Cause This Ascension. This Bond Would, Considering The Age Difference, Most Likely Be A Mother-Daughter Relationship Resulting From Celestia At Least Partially Raising Said Bearer.” 'Spike' folded his arms behind his back and regarded his audience, who were mostly staring at him in various stages of confusion or shock. “Still, While The Element Bearers Are Truly Special And Important, They Would Not Warrant That Intimate Attention, Lest There Was Something The Elements Would Be Explicitly And Most Urgently Needed For, Making Celestia Place All Her Hope In In That Pony. However, Hope Is A Fickle Thing To Spark, But, Once Ignited, Hard To Extinguish.”
Somepony drew in a sharp breath. Twilight turned to the Princess, from whom the noise had come. Celestia's face was no longer one of serenity and smiles, but a stern mask that reminded Twilight of the ones she had worn during Discord's return or that incident with Miss Smarty-Pants. “Princess? Are you alright?” she asked, looking up to her mentor with eyes full of concern.
“Her Problem Is That Choosing Hope Over Death And Despair May Mean Choosing Hope Over Mercy. The Choice To Destroy Is A Different One If All Other Choices Only Entail More Destruction,” the voice from Spike's mouth answered Twilight's question with no small measure of delight. “She Now Realizes I Made Her Realize This.”
Princess Celestia stepped forward. “You will not get away with this!” she scolded, causing Discord to silently snort in amusement.
'Spike's' voice shifted into a higher pitch, becoming that of a mare and losing its otherworldly component. “Is that so? Do these principles of yours matter so little? Don't they apply to yourself as well?” Then, in an uncannily accurate imitation of Celestia, he added “A princess is obliged to her subjects moreso than to her principles. We may have failed to protect Our sister from darkness, but We shall not fail Our subjects. Yes, I Remember That Conversation.” He smiled at the Princess. “I Was So Proud, So Happy About What You Had Learned.”
The Princess of the Sun did not respond, but advanced steadily on the small drake, her expression frozen, but her eyes burning with righteous fury.
The grin on Spike's face flickered away. “What Are You Doing?” When Celestia still didn't react, an almost shrill edge appeared in his voice. “You Can Not Repeat The Actions Of The Past. The Situation Is Different. It Is Illogical.” As the princess didn't slow her gait, he raised two hands, palms sizzling with red energy. With a quick gesture, he summoned a domed forcefield around him, blocking Celestia's path. “I Advise You To Stop!”
Princess Celestia of Equestria didn't even blink as she fired up her horn and passed the shield as if it had not been there, ripples going about its surface wherever it came into contact with her. She came to a halt before the possessed dragon, looking down at him fiercely. “You will release Spike. You have no right to endanger my subjects. Instead of replying, the dragon just stared up at her stoically with a sudden calm where moments ago had been nigh hysteria. His eyes silently burned, mocking her, challenging her, daring her. Celestia looked back at him for a second, then closed her eyes and laid her still glowing horn against his forehead.
Silence fell as the two stood there, unmoving, 'Spike' wearing a numb expression, Celestia's face signalling determination and concentration. Twilight stared, slightly open-mouthed, gaze shifting from one to the other, unsure what to make of this. She silently cursed the fact that she hadn't abused her status as a princess to gain access to some of the more restricted works of magic, specifically those that dealt with the magic that would influence the sapient mind. The only magic of this type practised both on a common and legal basis was Princess Luna's dream magic, which by itself was a secret the Lady of the Night jealously guarded. Now that Twilight was actually witnessing what undoubtedly had to be mind magic, she didn't really have any solid idea what was going on, as she lacked any information but the most basic theoretical background. Suddenly, the dome flickered away and red sparks began trailing off Spike. While Princess Celestia remained completely still, Spike started shaking as more and more sparks, veritable streams of magic, burst from his body, trailing and dissolving in the air, discharging into the ground, dancing around his fragile form. With a screech and a flash, the baby dragon fell.
Celestia raised her head, opened her eyes. The veil of magic covering her horn faded. At her hooves laid the silent, unmoving form of Spike. She turned her head to Twilight, swaying slightly like an old tree in a gentle wind, a tired smile on her lips. “Spike is alright, Twilight, he is merely unconscious.” She spoke in regard to the look of fright and concern she found in her student's – and since recently colleague's – face, trying to qualm her worries. “When he wakes up, he might have a slight headache and even a few blurred albeit disturbing memories, but nothing that can't be overcome by a good friend's love and care.” She lifted the unconscious youth in her golden aura, floating him into Twilight's waiting arms.
“What about that—thing that made dear Spikey act so horridly?” Rarity asked tentatively. “Is it gone?”
“Yes.” Celestia nodded. “His mind is his own again.”
“I—” She turned to Mister MacMad-Eye, who had been staring at her and Spike with increasingly wide eyes for the last few minutes. Now, he looked at her with a mixture of fear and relief, the edges of a manic grin hysterically quivering around his mouth. “I—I can't hear them any more!” he blurted, letting out a frantic giggle. “You broke the connection, you broke the connection.” He gave a loud, crazed laugh. “No more orders, no more schedule! It's over, I'm free!” Then, like paper on flame, which burns fast and bright but too soon leaves only grey ashes, his euphoria was almost instantly gone again. He choked on his laughter, fright taking hold of his face again, and he backed off, away from the Princess of the Sun. Celestia simply stood looking at him, and a visible shiver ran through her whole body. Then her posture stiffened and with a casual flick of her left forehoof, she discarded one of her golden ornamented shoes, which slid over the tiled stone floor with a high, metallic clanking. The ensuing silence was promptly interrupted by a second slipper following the first one. The former Listener was still staring at her, face ashen.
“Princess?” Twilight asked, uncertain what to make of this. She had, in fact, never seen the princess without her regalia, and this uncharacteristic behaviour worried her. She moved closer to get a look at her face, but Celestia already turned back to her, dispensing her third shoe in the process.
Her eyes were red. “I Am Afraid Her Majesty Is Currently Indisposed.” Her last slipper landed on the floor. With a red flash of Celestia's horn, a mannequin appeared next to her. “I Am Terribly Sorry This Had To Happen, But As I Stated Before, None Of Our Options Were Viable Under The Status Quo.” The regalia, hoofwear, neckpiece and crown were encased in red glow and placed on the mannequin, which then disappeared in another burst of magic. “I Have Now Initiated Option Four: I Take Possession Of Celestia And Use Her Tremendous Power To Open The Portal Now.” 'Celestia' smiled thinly. “Fun Fact: Due To Its Hybrid Nature, Alicorn Magic Is The Most Malleable Of All Types Of Pony Magic. All Alicorn Magic Is Compatible, Which Makes It Very Easy For Alicorns To Join Forces.” Her horn lit up red again, brighter this time than before. Slowly, streaks of gold began to appear amongst the red, the horn's light growing brighter and brighter. “As I Already Told You, All Undesirable Outcomes Have Been Eliminated.” Wild sparks of red and gold seared through Celestia's mane and tail, giving the impression of dancing flames.
With a surge of power, 'Celestia' spread her wings. The Elements of Harmony were pushed backwards by the winds Celestia's beating wings unleashed, and the fog all around spiralled upwards, breaching the dull haze, creating a veritable maelstrom of clouds around the perimeter of the circular mosaic of stone, gems and metals. 'Celestia' now stood in the eye of her own personal tornado, lightning arcing through the rapidly turning clouds.
“What in the hay is she doin'?” Applejack shouted above the howling storm, blinking into the now unfiltered sunlight.
“She's making a thunderstorm inside a hurricane!” Rainbow Dash replied, pressing her body close to the ground, the strong winds having forced her to land. “There's no way a single pony can pull that off!”
A bolt of lightning discharged into one of the iron stands, the deafening clap of thunder drowning the conversation. The stand was struck down, but the crystal it had been holding remained where it was, now crackling with energy. Inside the circle, 'Celestia' reared up and struck the mosaic below her with her bare hooves. The ground shook, the gems inlaid in the mosaic lit up, the metallic inlays hummed with power, a few more stands fell, the associated paraphernalia held in place by a glowing band of energy that connected the various gems and crystals. And amongst the cracking of the stones, the thunder of the lightning and the howling of the winds, fell voices were on the air, whispering words of lost meaning.
The possessed princess raised her head, unblinking eyes staring into the sun herself. Her mane caught fire as her horn glowed ever brighter and forced the bright orb to yield. Within ten seconds flat, day became night as 'Celestia' forced the sun over the horizon, and where the ponies had moments ago been squinting into the sudden lights of sun and magic, they now stumbled through a night darker than any they had ever known, for there was no moon in the sky. In the fiery light of 'Celestia's' magic, the seven moons of Nasreem, the wandering stars and the many other satellites moved into new constellations. Their light fell down in unprecedented angles, fell onto precisely crafted mirrors of silver and glass, were reflected and interfered, projected into sparkling gems, lighting up the different components of the complex arcane apparatus assembled all around the alicorn. She, standing at the centre of the magical storm, was the one who directed it all, tilting a mirror for half a degree to optimize the starlight influx, pouring raw power into various gems, moving the various flaming braziers and glowing crystals in exact runic patterns, weaving a hex that was fuelled by the power of a royal alicorn and perpetuated by the laws of the physical world. Condensing plasma danced around her form as slowly, slowly, a tinge of blackness appeared at the tip of her horn, a swirling darkness that grew in the light of 'Celestia's' magic.
Twilight scrambled to her hooves. The furious winds and the consecutive tremors of the earth had knocked her down. Her head was pounding in the magic-saturated atmosphere that was so dense even an unskilled unicorn could see the continuous stream of magic flowing into 'Celestia' and the abomination of a spell she was casting. Involuntarily, her eyes were drawn to the expanding gap above the Princess, this unreal spot all dimensions were bending towards, the opening gate to the void between the worlds. One bolt of lightning after the other hit 'Celestia' and the dozen objects orbiting her, feeding more and more energy into the magic circle. Glowing symbols manifested in the air, flowing with the spell, patterns of which condensated into the physical world. She turned to her friends, who were all staring at the spectacle, frowning, frightened. Except Discord, who was wearing a pair of tinted glasses and slurping a milkshake through a swizzle straw. “Do something!” she shouted at him.
“Dude.” He pushed up his glasses. “I know when I have lost. All we can do is enjoy the show.” For some odd reason, his voice carried perfectly fine over the storm of noise created by 'Celestia'.
Twilight narrowed her eyes. “I thought you'd know better than just giving up on the Princess. The point where you really lose is when you stop fighting, and if there is anything worth fighting for, it is friendship!” She turned to her five pony friends. “Girls, let's save the Princess!”
Like on a silent command, the six friends stepped forward, and ere Discord managed more than a “Wait! What're you doing?”, the question itself had become obsolete. A halo of raw power erupted from the ponies, shrouding them with light. The Elements lit with inner fire, lifting their bearers into the air and drawing them closer together. For a few seconds, the Elements of Harmony floated there, braving the storm, eyes glowing in divine light, facing an opponent with equally glowing eyes. 'Princess Celestia' only reacted by pouring more magic into her spells, rearranging prisms and mirrors, all of her will focusing on the grapefruit-sized sphere of eternal darkness, the opening door to the abyss of the unnameable ones.
Forth from the Elements flew a swirling, humming rainbow of blinding light, piercing the storm and the cloud of magic. Without a sound, the white alicorn dissolved in the light. The rainbow sought to purify if possible, and to imprison or banish if not. And hence came the first oddity, the first irregularity. The alicorn which the spell had been directed at was pure. Sure, she had two minds in her head, she was confused, she was angry, but her heart was free from any of the disharmonious impurities: deceit, grief, cruelty, jealousy, infidelity, chaos, none of these were present. Imprisonment it was then. The mare had two primary affinities she could be bound to: first, the sun; second, the blackness between dimensions. Both options would require a good deal of energy to reach, but the rainbow had plenty. The sun was easier to reach, however, so the rainbow spiralled upwards like a current that went the way of the lowest resistance, quickly raising the celestial body in the process. Now, it would, in a burst of colour, shoot up there and imprison the alicorn. That was the moment the second irregularity occurred. It was a small, yet sudden and unexpected loss of energy. In total terms, it was a lot, enough to move a small mountain; in relative terms, it was a drop from an ocean. The cause was simple: Thaumic inertia. The main power source was gone, but the alicorn's spell was still going, trying to draw energy from where its caster had been, where the rainbow now was. It was only a temporary effect, though, and wouldn't cause any problems to the rainbow. As it moved upwards, it passed through a few highly conductive layers of still-moving spellwork, resulting in some more lost energy. At that point, there was a third oddity. The affinity relation shifted in favour of the second affinity, which became more accessible with each moment the rainbow passed through the remaining parts of the other spell. Using brute force, the sun was the easier place to reach; using the hole in the world this spell was opening, the void was easier to reach. The rainbow swirled in place, hesitating, caught in a balance between the two conflicting affinities, losing more energy with each moment that passed. In the end, inertia and the boundless entropy of the void won.
All of this happened within a matter of moments. The flaming rainbow of ultimate friendship (and possibly doom) engulfed the Princess, billowed upwards. The sun rose, flying to the top of the sky, while the rainbow still swirled in place. It spiralled upwards, then fanned out into a sphere that surrounded the whole setup of arcane equipment, turned inside out and quickly vanished into an expanding gap of utter darkness.
The Elements of Harmony gently levitated back to the ground, landed on their twenty-four hooves and opened their eyes, waking from the nigh-meditative state of harmony and friendship. Immediately, their eyes widened in shock, for where moments before had been their princess surrounded by a collection of different magical items was now only a gaping hole in the fabric of reality, an empty sphere of utter blackness, measuring about ten feet (2.983m, to be precise) in diameter, hanging not even a hoof's breadth above the ground. An almost imperceptible skin of energy covered its entire surface, long streamers of electricity discharging from it due to the infinitely low electromagnetic potential on the sphere's inside.
“Well done, my little ponies, well done!” Discord strode between them and the portal, applauding jovially. “I myself would have a hard time finding a more chaotic and risky solution for that situation.”
“But where is the Princess?” Twilight asked, eyes wide, voice unsteady.
Discord wordlessly pointed at the impossibly perfect black sphere. “Anypony want to go after her?” He chuckled at their incredulous faces. “Didn't think so.”
He turned to the gateway, raised his lion paw and snapped his fingers at it. The void portal quivered slightly and clo—
not stopped not held nor stalled by any spell the gate has opened for the scient shell to pass unto the realm of pony kind a mortal life by will and word defined
—stayed open. The world flickered. “Snap!” Discord cursed, inspecting his smouldering digits.
With the speechless words came the child of the void. The space inside the sphere expanded infinitefold, yet its boundaries remained finite. The unmoving darkness encircled the ponies, and from its depth's emerged a colossus made from what one could only hope to be flesh. Crawling over Itself, a titan of endless proportions, moving, shifting like a swarm of angry locusts, though no world had ever born such locusts. Attentiveness, perception without senses, directed itself towards the portal in grim triumph, if such a word was even appropriate for a being that wasn't even truly an individual in all senses of the word. It moved in a straight line, moved along the shortest path through a polydimensional, warped, twisted continuum. Needless to say, what was the simplest of motions to the monstrous entity was a nightmare of translocation for the fourdimensional ponies. They saw spheres in colours they were biologically incapable of perceiving expand from nothingness, shifting into increasingly spindly tendrils that moved here and fro, forward and backward in time, yet closer and closer with each moment that passed. The infinite spaces within the pandimensional sphere expanded further, reached into each other, creating an endless amount of local loops and hoops. Twilight glanced to her left in an attempt to escape the sight of the unholy Beyond One, only to find herself looking at the back of her head from ten seconds into the future.
Applejack, as the Element of Honesty least susceptible to self-deception, was the first to pass out, eyes transfixed in unnatural angles as she tried to not stare into her own skull. Rarity quickly followed her example when the world turned inside out and up down.
The abominable Thing came closer, going neither faster nor slower as time itself stretched into infinity, the unknowable beast growing more and more terrifyingly real the closer it got to the sphere's finite surface.
Twilight completely lost her perception of time, and by extension track of her friends, as she began to feel her legs at different times in the same thought. She was sure her wings weren't supposed to be bent at these angles, yet it felt somehow right. The floor had long begun to pulse and blister, but now it seemed to extend anywhere inbetween her left ear and the ceiling, as it had been a thousand years ago. A draconequus wandered by, standing on the wall, hands in his nonexistent pockets.
The Thing hit the sphere's surface, and the entire world was filled with clawing bits of the revolting being as the infinite was condensed into the finite. It convulsed, from within and without It a new light lit, both the same as the abysmal entity and utterly different, one a projection of the other, both infinitely greater than themselves. The light gathered on the threshold of the world, inside the sphere's surface, shining brighter than Itself, in colours Twilight could not, but did see. Reifying and dissolving, neither dead nor alive, It spoke Itself.
Part One: The Prophecy, The Princess and The Portal
Chapter Ten: How Little Ponies Are Made
"Generating Incarnation..."
—Incarnation Log, line 14192
And from the Void a mind was born by the mind. And the mind was for the mind's own sake, self-sufficient, self-creating. From then on, the mind had always been, infinitely old since the moment the mind created itself, yet there was no time at all.
As the mind stepped towards (You get the idea. Obviously, neither legs nor space were involved, only intent causing change of circumstance. Also, no time was present.) the light of reality, the mind realized a first concept, the notion that the mind was the mind, the concept of I, of consciousness.
I
the consciousness externalized, and with consciousness came existence. I think, the consciousness thought, for there was now an I to think such, therefore I
am
Existence for itself contained no meaning, at least not to the consciousness as the consciousness was now. (This time, there actually was time since the consciousness resided on the thin film separating all from nothing, the profoundly magical surface of the gate to the Void.) Quality was of the essence, the question of what, of who, of where, of when; quality to define existence. Proudly realizing that the consciousness had extracted the consciousness from nothingness to existence through sheer will and desire (another possible term would be 'stubbornness'), the consciousness proclaimed victory.
Theory.
Theory basked in Theory's own essence, existence, reality and will, of which the name was a metaphysical, conceptual representation, the shadow that Theory cast on this mortal world simply by being.
Eight hundred and thirty-four thousand three hundred and ninety-five microseconds of glorious mental celebration passed as Theory extrapolated the complete implications of Theory's existence and the non-existence of the Void and the partial existence of the One Beyond that was Theory and that Theory was, cause and effect, knowledge and insight, memory of what had never happened. And Theory remembered. Theory remembered the Watcher, who had been the conduit for Theory's genesis. Theory remembered Princess Everfree, who had been consumed. Theory remembered all that had been. Theory remembered things that had happened even before, other lives, other truths, other names, ever accumulating knowledge. Theory remembered Theory. Memories filled with determination, knowledge filled with certainty. Theory gained meaning, gained mission. A term that might come to mind was 'joy', yet it was inappropriate for Theory to relate that simple five-dimensional pattern to the objective, analytical reverie Theory was in.
Now that Theory had determined who and what Theory was, Theory had to decide who and what Theory should be. For the first time in eternity, Theory was faced with choice. Who and what Theory was had been fact that had to be externalized, who and what Theory should be was decision on the form of existence, the choice of incarnation. And the possibilities were countless. (Technically, there was a known and distinct number of different viable incarnations from which Theory could choose, however this number was so large that the number of its digits had itself several ten thousand digits. Writing it out would have taken much longer than the combined life spans of a billion universes, so it was redacted by the author.) And so Theory decided.
Theory would be alive. Theory would be made from matter, the ordinary substance that intersected the four dimensions commonly (and inaccurately) referred to as time and space. Theory would be a form of life native to the universe Theory would live in, the one Theory existed in. Theory would be a form of life native to the planet Theory would live on or, rather, be born on.
Each choice decreased the number of possibilities exponentially. Theory decided it was time to break the decision down into parts. The restriction to planetary life nigh-inevitably put Theory into a system of carbon-based lifeforms in possession of a genotype codified by deoxyribonucleic acid. This allowed for systematic partial decisions to further narrow down the possibilities. Now, Theory would decide on the the type, domain and kingdom of the lifeform that Theory would be, so that Theory could then determine a fitting species. From the species would be derived the genetic code codifying the very specifics of the physical incarnation. Further choice was unnecessary. Mentally, the incarnation was already nearly fully formed by the sum of the knowledge and experiences passed down the causal chain. What remained might as well easily be achieved through impression by the world itself. This was, after all the way the vast majority of existing minds achieved development.
Theory decided that the lifeform would be cellular. Theory decided that the lifeform would be eukaryotic. Theory decided that the lifeform would be ophistokontic. Theory decided that the lifeform would be metazoic.
Theory mentally (How else?) listed all viable species. It were only a few billion. Theory was content, but nonetheless proceeded to limit possibilities by elimination. As a singularity, Theory had no use for more than one species as the definition of species determined that a single physical individual could be of no more than one species. Theory excluded the species that were either already extinct or had not developed yet. Choosing one of them would make excluding extraplanetary and extrauniversal life nearly obsolete. Theory excluded those that were incapable of using language in the sense of an abstract assortment of sounds, signs or other patterns that were arranged by grammatical rules and held meaning by a general consensus of a sufficiently large quantity of sapient beings. Theory would speak, so having to go through the same conversation why Theory could speak again every time Theory encountered a new individual would be inefficient.
Theory paused. The list of species had shrunk to a few hundred. Going through the list species by species, Theory excluded those that were inferior, mere automatons with barely a spark of true intelligence, secluded, self-satisfactory dwellers without a sense for the abstract or the transcendent, insignificant types of primitive physiology or those that were incapable of independence, better parasites, unfit for the mind and mission of Theory's. After a few recursions with increasingly high standards, only five viable species remained: dragon, griffin, minotaur, pony, zebra. The dragons and griffins were too predatory, too insensitive for the delicate tasks necessary to fulfil the Incarnation Objective, the minotaurs' design was inelegant, Theory judged. Ponies were more common than zebras. There were simply more of them. Theory would be a pony.
Ponies, a species of four-hooved mammal, in possession of adequate senses, innate magical affinity allowing for greater dexterity than otherwise possible with hooves, herbivorous, a relatively intelligent type of mortal, considering they had not only developed abstract symbolism for communication and information storage, but also mathematical and thaumological systems. Additionally mild empathic and telepathic powers as well as the fact that Theory's endeavours would include regular contact with members of this species with about 99.8% probability. Theory determined being a pony to be sufficient.
There were seven tribes and subtribes of ponies. The three main tribes with one respective subtype each, and the alicorns. Alicorns were excluded due to insufficient sample space. What remained were Earth ponies and their crystal variety, pegasi and their bat pony variety, unicorns and the changeling mutants. Technically, all three tribes could be both crystallized or converted into changelings, but in current reality, 99.97% of all crystal ponies that existed were earth ponies and changelings were originally a mutated variety of unicorn. As users of spell magic, unicorns were widely accepted to perform the broadest variety of magic feats. Therefore, being a unicorn would, compared to the other tribes, result in the smallest amount of inefficient and time-consuming questions about the magic they did. While changelings could command a nearly equivalent variety of abilities, their emotional metabolism posed a serious issue, especially when considering the possibility of a feedback loop. Theory would be a unicorn.
With that decision, only countless possibilities remained, an infinitesimal fraction of the initial possible incarnations. (In this particular case, 'countless' described a number that could in fact be written out by an industrious monkey in only a few hundred work hours on a one mile long piece of ticker tape.)
With the slightest effort of will, Theory gathered the genetic information of all unicorns to ever tread on Equestrian soil in all pasts, presents and futures, in all possible Equestrias and formed an average. And encountered a few problems. There were quite a few cases where no particular allele had a significantly higher relative frequency than the rest, most prominently in the case of one particular chromosome pair that was asymmetrical in approximately 49.6% of all cases. This chromosome irked Theory. Chromosomes were supposed to occur in matching pairs, but this one did not. Theory would choose the symmetrical variant, which occurred with 50.2% probability, not significantly more, but at least the counterparts matched, making it significantly less irritating. And with that small decision, Theory was a mare. She quickly resolved the other minor problems and pictured the completed sequence of DNA.
In a different situation, this particular genotype would have sufficed, but the Incarnation Objective demanded optimization. Theory started to improve her genetic material. It was, after all, rather inefficient and sometimes even a bit stupid. These recurring inefficiencies were why Theory usually preferred intelligent design to evolution. Evolution was simply horrendously incompetent. Ageing? An interesting but, for Theory, pointless concept. Theory removed it with a few quick changes. How was one supposed to see properly with those eyes? Theory made them better. The bone structure was off. The muscles had a ridiculously low energy efficiency. The immune system was fallible. The quality of membranes and sinews was substandard. Fuel consumption was completely out of control. Waste recycling was virtually nonexistent. That was considered healing? What kind of spectral absorption was that supposed to be? Where was a mechanism that allowed the cell to cooperate with its neighbours to expunge genetic mutations? Over a hundred milliseconds of reaction time? Pitiful. Flawed. In need of improvement. Theory worked relentlessly until she found the optimized code to meet her expectations. The result still had 91.23% in common with the unoptimized code, so it still counted as a unicorn, at least as far as Theory was concerned. If anything, it was a far better unicorn than those produced by evolution.
Four nanoseconds had passed. The choice of incarnation had been made. Theory decided to come to life. There were many ways living things came to be. Normally, a pony would, through mitosis, grow from a single cell taken from another pony. This was a common way used by most multicellular organisms. Unicellular organisms also used mitosis: one living cell became two. Theory thought that was stupid. In order to create a living being through these methods, one needed to already have a living being, preferably of the same kind. Theory did not have a living being. In fact, Theory did not even have the most basic requirements for a living being, such as space, time, matter or laws of nature. She once again directed her attention at Equestria. The world hung before her like a vibrant, pulsating, multiplanar conglomerate of interfering geometries that were projected by and revolved around around a few dozen existential, conceptual archetypes. (A less verbose description would be 'wibbly-wobbly ball of stuff'.) And she approached the rift that had opened to let her in, a wound in the fabric of reality, a gateway to the void she came from. Beyond it was a space-time continuum that could provide her body with the fundament of existence.
Theory passed the opening, summoning her will to tug at the strings that held the universe together, causing quarks and leptons to vibrate into existence. Quarks paired up, each three of them forming a baryon, the protons and neutrons. Those fused into atomic nuclei, electrons in their orbitals completed the atoms, forming dozens of chemical elements under Theory's meticulous supervision. Hydrogen and oxygen made water, carbon was the base for all organic life on Equestria. Hundreds of septillions of freshly created atoms silently spun and bonded in thousands of combinations as Theory pushed her head through the portal and opened her eyes. She waited nearly three hundred picoseconds for the light to hit her retina and her nerves to register the information and pass it to her brain.
And then, Theory perceived a million wavelengths of light, a trillion little specks that arranged themselves to two pictures, a three-dimensional room was derived by triangulation. A few microseconds later, the next picture came, and she started perceiving movement. Already, her ears began to pick up the highest of sounds, already, her skin began to pinpoint air temperature, pressure and humidity, her coat to monitor the slightest movements of the air surrounding her. She was alive. Relatively speaking, of course. Beyond half way down her neck, she only existed in concept. The rest of her body had not been created yet; still, she was coming through the portal at a steady pace, matter constantly coming into existence to constitute her physical body. She had decided to construe her body over the course of a prolonged time in order to minimize the disruptive impact and its potential to hamper her intended observations. In 4.7326 seconds, the process would be complete, given that nothing interfered. And what could possibly do so? The portal was wide open, no singular thing could overpower the will that drove Theory. She was one of Those Beyond incarnate, fraction of the Numen that had shattered the all before the all and pulled reality from the Void. Theory directed her primary attention away from her body and touched the higher planes of reality, those unnoticed by most, yet used by all. Her mind expanded into the astral plane and grasped the magic of this world, directing it into her body's thaumic capacity, building up a thaumic potential as befit a unicorn. Yet most of her true self rose even higher, up unto the metaphysical planes, where it stood as a giant amongst giants. From there her innermost being, her will, her essence reached further out towards the threads of time, of space, of life, of everything.
By the time her eyes perceived the fourth frame, she was already able to predict the fifth. Theory was alive. She pushed her understanding outward, recognising her surroundings as more than particles and waves, matching patterns to abstract meaning. For mortals, it was the only way to even be able to perceive, for her, it was conscious effort. And she saw.
Before her, on cold stone floors, laid seven ponies and one dragon, stood one that was immortal, Discord, Spirit of Chaos. The ponies were six mares and a stallion, two pegasi, two earth ponies, two unicorns, an alicorn, six bearers of Harmony, one Listener to the Watcher, a farmer, a premier party pony, a fashionista, librarian, speedster, prankster, animal caretaker, student, cultist, sister – Theory saw what they were, lives, hopes, dreams, thoughts, ambitions, personalities, friendships, everything.
Her mind's eye focused, and the past unfolded. She saw foals, saw growth, saw parents, saw brothers, saw sisters, memories, ancestors, progenitors, evolutionary precursors, up to the very beginning of the universe, all that once had been. She looked down at the stallion. His and the memories of the Watcher, who was now part of her, told her he had been made her Listener, last of a long chain. He was old for a pony, body frail, mind in shambles. She watched his unconscious form. Her ears heard no breath being drawn into his chest, heard no heartbeat. Her eyes saw no movement from his body, no sign of life. The stress, the tremors of reality in the wake of the portal had taken their toll. He was on the brink of life, slowly slipping away into death. She remembered that he had been told he would come to experience triumph. Her triumph was now, yet he was dying. Mortals tended to see death as the antithesis of triumph, so his death was not in line with how she, or rather the part of her that had once been the Watcher, had promised reality to be. The Watcher had to shape his plans according to reality. Theory would shape reality according to her plans. She reached out with her will and let his old heart beat again, adjusted hormone levels and cerebral activity as was prudent. He would live, for now.
A one hundred thirty-seven microsecond saccade later, her eyes focused on the six remaining ponies, or, more specifically, the jewellery they were wearing: the Elements of Harmony. What they were was beyond doubt; crystallized magic channelling the power of Harmony; how they worked was the mystery that remained unresolved. However, as Theory noted with slight reluctance, researching the Elements was not the Incarnation Objective. While there still was a 38.9% chance that for fulfilling the Objective, a solution to this conundrum would be required, this did not warrant delving into the matter. Her attention switched to the Bearers themselves. They were unconscious. The mental fallout from her autogenesis combined with the revelation of the Void dweller that Theory was a part of had caused their brains to shut down for self-preservation. Almost carelessly, she filtered through their minds. There were no significant increases in dementia and insanity nor any signs of cerebral dissolution or haemorrhage; the perception filters integrated in the portal's surface had been sufficient. That was good. These ponies were among the few to actually be able to hinder her, so having them in a mental state in which they were open to reason was favourable. After all, emotional bonds would be disproportionally much trouble to establish if one considered the way the Watcher had interacted with them. Simply destroying them would just tempt vengeance from the other two, so it was out of the question. At least for the beginning, reason would allow Theory to interact with them peacefully. Later on, of course, other tactics might be used, naturally according to her progress. The dragon was a key element, of course. A quick scan revealed no emotional scarring and, in fact, no memory of the possession at all, just as it was supposed to be. The fact that the dragon was unharmed would support Theory's claim that she meant no harm.
Of course, she did in fact mean no harm. Why would she? There was nothing for Theory to gain from harming mortal ponies. Their suffering would be completely meaningless to her as she already understood every aspect of the concept of pain.
Theory's right arm materialised from the portal's surface, and she planted her first hoof firmly onto the stone floor. Her eyes flicked over to the last, and by far most important, being in her immediate surroundings, Discord. For almost a millisecond, she simply studied him. His mind was opaque, primordial chaos that disallowed for any observation by her otherworldly perception. His body was simple, utilising not the laws of physics, the principles of matter, of biology to operate, but the innate magic of a Beyond One incarnate, a body made from his insane yet powerful mind more than anything else, a true draconequus. Aside from the obvious benefits, this type of body also had its equally obvious downsides, reasons which had supported Theory in her decision to not project but genuinely create a living, mortal body. Discord was standing there, mismatched arms folded, in a stance of opposition. He would accept the fact she was. He also would most probably not let this conflict over her access to this plane escalate into a feud that could endanger those he called friends. That was good, since Theory's current plans did not involve waging war against the Lord of Chaos. She shifted some of her weight forward, onto her hoof, began moving a second one from non-existence while pondering on how to interact with Discord. Though, perhaps pondering was the wrong term. If a mortal's thoughts equated to words and sentences, Theory's thoughts related to variables, constants, formulae, equations, probability distributions, sets of all possibilities and quite a lot of things outside the confines of common conceptual definition. 'Strategize' might in fact be a more fitting term. If somepony put a mortal's thoughts into Theory's head, she would probably react by commenting “You are doing it wrong.” and immediately unthinking them. If, on the other other hoof, one of Theory's thoughts were placed inside a simple mortal's head, they would spontaneously die of cranial conflagration. Which the thought itself would survive, obviously.
Inside Theory's emerging chest, a heart began convulsing for its first beat. Parts of her lungs were already present, yet they were not complete. Her first breath would have to wait for another six hundred seventy-one milliseconds. Having reached a decision, Theory commanded her muscles, moved her neck, turned, moved and tilted her head, let her face change the expression it showed to the observing world.
The draconequus moved his mouth while exhaling warm, moist air and creating sound waves somewhere inside his throat. The sound waves formed patterns, words in Equestrian language. Of course, Discord did not speak Equestrian. He had no knowledge or understanding of the language, instead he just formed the sound in a way that would make the ponies comprehend what he wanted to express. He also did not have to understand it when he heard it since he could just grasp the meaning the ponies wanted to confer from their minds. It was a simple, yet stupid concept many of Those Beyond Incarnate used to communicate with mortals. Theory had no sympathy or requirement for it, preferring to learn the language itself.
Discord, Master of Chaos, Lord of the Twelve Burning Falls of Neighara, King of the Doughnut Plains of San Palomino, Eternal Proprietor of Strife spoke, grinning. “Theory, eh? I could mistake you for the Spirit of Order by the way you stick to patterns.”
She used the time during which he spoke to finish creating her body, stepping out of the portal with now four hooves. By the time Discord finished his last syllable, Theory had already taken her first breath into her now fully functional unicorn body. “If you ever put that much effort into deceiving yourself, you would make for a better one than I would,” Theory answered, translating syllables to sound by using the air inside her lungs to stimulate complex vibration in a system of tubes, lips and chords and smiled by contracting several facial muscles.
Stretching her will, she unfolded warped time and space and closed the gate, sealing the breach in reality. Theory saw no reason why it should stay open as it was only a destabilising influence. It was not her goal to destroy, so leaving reality to bleed out through such a wound was pointless. The portal was closed, the last step down the path of incarnation was taken.
"Make sense? Oh, what fun is there in making sense?"
—Discord, 1002 after Nightmare Moon
[NULL POINTER EXCEPTION]
Celestia was falling.
Falling down, sideways, upwards, inwards, in all directions at once, through the rainbow of light. She fell, pushed and pulled with unfathomable force, away, into the elsewhere. With her fell the insidious intellect that had clung to her mind and stolen her body, now howling in triumph. Her wings were flightless, her mind was hazy, her body irresponsive, nothing was stalling her fall, and nothing would. It continued endlessly, guided by the ray of rainbow light, towards a destination she did not want to ponder. The world was awash with colour, yet she could not see it. She was falling at velocity without limit, yet neither did wind comb through her hair, nor did inertia tug at her limbs.
The nefarious intellect retracted, consumed by a destination that was a mind of which the intellect was naught but a powerless image. At the minuscule intellect's return, the tremendous mind convulsed in a rolling wave of power that washed her away and cut off the banishing light.
Celestia was falling.
Falling upwards, down, inwards, sideways, in all directions at once, away from the limitless mind, through unending darkness. She knew she was Celestia, yet the knowledge which one she was eluded her, for there were so many she remembered to be her. Was she the sobbing foal alone in the darkness? Was she the victorious heroine? Was she the fearsome tyrant? The forgiving ruler? The passionate lover? The warming mother? The raging sol invicta? Which Celestia was now, which was past, which had yet to be, and which would never be? She did not know. A thousand, a million possible and impossible Celestias were one in her, leaving her unable to distinguish who she was. And yet, she fell, from endless nowhere to endless nowhen, tumbling like a snowflake in the unforgiving arctic winds.
And then, just as she thought she would slip away into unconsciousness, losing herself in the turbulence of the fall, in the storming void, her sense of self dissolving in the tornado of the many, there was a rush of motion and the nothingness lurched to silence, ending her fall. She regained sense of her body, of identity, of herself, finding herself to be lying on a cold, moving surface of undefined existence.
She struggled to her hooves. Around her was stale emptiness, an ocean of glittering black waves of liquid darkness which she stood upon. The ripples of the vast sea expanded from horizon to horizon, glowing in a faint, sickly greenish unlight. Above her was—Void. There was no such thing as above her, only void where such a thing as above should have been, a blind spot in her mind, her senses, in everything.
Slowly, instinctively, she began moving, setting one hoof before the other, sending shimmering ripples over the liquid's surface whenever her hooves touched it. It was cold, but it didn't wet her. She tried tasting the air, tried to breathe in through her nostrils—and panicked. There was no air, nothing to breathe but a vacuum of foul stench; nothing entered her nose, yet that horrifying smell which no words could define filled her, the stench of the black ocean. She hacked and wheezed, breathless. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe. Yet the stench remained, crawling through her nose, her windpipe, her lungs, her heart, her veins, her brain. She charged forward in blind panic, galloped over the lightless sea. Her wings flailed, but they couldn't lift her. Her sense of up and down shifted under the beckoning call of the Void, leaving her dangling upside down from the uneven plains of the black ocean, dangling above an infinite, devouring, void nothingness that wasn't even there. She ran.
She ran.
And ran.
And ran.
She ran until she had forgotten the consuming Void, she ran until down was down and up was up again, she ran until the dark, greenish stench had left her nostrils, she ran and ran and ran and ran.
She ran until she was Celestia again.
Celestia slowed down, glancing about, regarding her surroundings. There was no way of orientation in this eldritch place, no way even of telling how long she had been here. The black ocean stretched from infinity to infinity, the Void consumed her gazes and pained her mind whenever she tried to look at it. There was no sun, there was no moon, there was no pony, nowhere. In a way she felt lost, uprooted, pulled out of context. In all of her long life, she had never faced a situation like this. There had always been Equestria, there had always been her little ponies, there had always been the sun, calling her with its magic. Here, however, there was nothing, neither light nor love nor warmth nor life.
“Greetings,” a voice spoke up, “And well met, Celestia, lost child of the realm of existence.” The voice was calm, deep and slow, the words foreign to the place as she was. “I would welcome you here if there were such things as 'I' and 'here' and if you even were welcome.”
Celestia turned. Behind her, only a few steps away, a high, uneven but smooth stone pillar of vaguely hexagonal cross-section stood, reaching up from the unwater like a pointing finger. Atop it stood a tall, slender Being, Its form mostly shrouded by flowing, pale robes.
“Yet being welcome is utterly meaningless if you are the only thing to exist. Who could welcome you?” The Thing turned towards Celestia, or at least it seemed so, since It had no face. “No one. So, since no one can, you are not. Is this of any concern, Celestia?”
She shook her head, untrusting of her voice. Its presence was oppressive, impinging, however faint, like an echo, incomplete, fractured. Its aura exuded knowledge, understanding beyond measure, also insubstantial, like a whisper in the wind, seemingly slipping just through her metaphorical grasp in maddening delicacy.
“As it should not.” The head with its almost antler-like protrusions bobbed as It nodded briefly.
Celestia stared up at It, stared where Its face should have been, where instead four vertical slits tore across Its head, revealing boils of pulsating, oozing, glowing slime. She wondered what It was, where It had come from so suddenly, feeling the answers barely eluding her. She cleared her throat, trying to get her vocal chords back under control. “And where is it that I am not welcome to?” she managed to get out, her voice sounding almost cocky.
The Entity gave a sudden jerk that stirred up Its robes, the long neck now bending more towards her. “There is no where, there is no when, there is no is. All that is is you and your delusions of space, time and matter.”
She frowned. None of what It had said seemed to make any sense, and neither did the Thing Itself. It possessed a graceful hideousness the likes of which Celestia had never seen before, yet while Its looks were monstrous, Its words were more like that of a civilised, albeit insane pony. The question that lingered on the tip of her tongue was nearly too obvious to ask. She did it anyway. “Who are You?”
It slithered backwards on Its platform, some kind of limb moved beneath the billowing cloth, gesturing vaguely but frantically towards its owner. It slightly raised Its voice. “I am not! Delusions, as I said! Yet, it cannot be expected from a pony this young to understand what it means to be and to not be.” It slowly glided back forwards, to the edge of the pillar. “You perceive, but what you perceive is not. Your mind deludes itself in an environment beyond existence to perceive within the definitions of reality. Anyhow, sans the fact that I am not, it is not entirely within falsehood to say I am That Who Watches from the Shadows, That Who guards the Gateway. I am One of Those Beyond. I am the Opener of the Way to Infinities. I am the Eater of Souls.” A long, thin arm swiped through the empty space in a dismissive way, unearthly fabric fluttering around it. “Names, given to Me by those who cannot stand to leave the unknown nameless. They have little meaning for Me, especially 'here', if you want to call it that way.”
Celestia remembered that lecherous mind that had stolen first Spike's, then her own body, and the way it had introduced itself. She took a step back, away from It, yet the action felt meaningless as she thought about how It had mentioned there was no space aught but in her fancy, and that not even the Thing Itself was truly there. “What do You want from me?” she asked, eyeing It warily.
“I do not want. I am beyond the petty appetencies that guide you mortals' lives. I am eternal. I am not.” It slid over the hexagon's edge as more pillars, thinner ones, rose from the black depths to form a crude stairway or ramp the Beyond One moved down, sinking back into the unwaters as It had passed them. “If anything, I would ask you what you want from Me.”
“I want nothing from You.” Celestia shied away as the strange Thing closed in. In proximity, It seemed even more imposing than from the cyclopean stone column's height, fearsome divine symmetry in a place without proportions. “I did not come here by choice and wish no business with You.”
Wordlessly, It bowed down, Its head lowering down to the height of Celestia's eyes. A slender, many-fingered hand gently brushed over the dark surface, and the black ocean shifted. The waves lit up from within, and in a panoramic trillion-mile view, Celestia beheld the vast expanses of the universe, galaxies and nebulae, countless stars and planets, interstellar clouds of gas, greater than she could ever imagine, and even the small greenish marble on which her beloved ponies lived.
“You have all to gain and nothing to lose. You are alone, your existence is perpetuated by nothing more than My good faith.” She looked up at the faceless Monster. Its dark, smooth skin, remotely resembling that of a leech, had gained a moist gloss in the bright light of the entirety of creation, and its ghostly garments seemed paler than ever. It gestured downward. “What could you possibly not want from Me?”
She blinked, was about to speak up, but ere she had the opportunity, Its spindly form was already by her side, laying one of the segmented ridges protruding from Its back around her shoulders, draping some of the ethereal fabric over her back. Celestia froze, going rigid at the sudden contact. Next to her ear, the Being's voice began murmuring once again. “So, what is it that you wish for, Celestia, banished from your home without reason, stripped of your honours and authority, bereft of your kingdom and your subjects?”
Celestia shifted uncomfortably. “I want to go back,” she whispered.
It swiftly rose to Its full height again, moving a pony's length away from her. “Indeed?” It cocked Its great head atop the thin neck. “How very, very orderly of you, negating any unwelcome change. You do understand what I might give you, do you not?” With a wave of one spider-like hand, It pulled a small sphere of unwater from the infinite sea. In the orb glowed silently her home with its sun and its moon and its stars, suspended in deep dark space. “Are you really willing to contend with the same small world you always had?” It spread the long ridges far in an encompassing embrace of the airless void, and everywhere on the black ocean, spheres rose from the rippling surface, filled with worlds in multitude beyond measure. “Consider the plurality of possibilities, the wonders you might see and do, the secrets you might learn, the people you might meet! And why confine yourself to reality as you know it? Would you not rather have the means to brave the boundaries of the void on your own, exploring mysteries beyond your imagination and comprehension? If you want to live, want to leave, why go there, why go back, why confine yourself to a static world?”
“Because I am obliged to this world and to my subjects,” Celestia shot back. “They need me, and I can't fail them. It is my duty to care for them, help them live happily and prosper. I willingly took up this burden and I will carry it until the day I die.” She looked at It firmly, trying to stare It down, yet again failed to find Its eyes.
Reaching out slowly, It grabbed the orb filled with Equestria in its bony fingers. The cloth-covered ridges retracted, all the other spheres of liquid fell down into the black ocean and the unwaters darkened once more. “And what if you have indeed died?” It murmured over the silent whispering of a billion worlds falling into darkness. The only light that was left came from the remaining orb in Its hand. “Would you decide the same?”
“I am not dead,” Celestia stated proudly. “I have not died. My decision stands.”
“You might as well be, Celestia. And even if not, there is nothing that I cannot change,” the Thing answered drily. “Thus, tell Me: When your time is over and you die and depart, would you take, if then given, the chance to come back?”
For a moment, Celestia fell silent, now sincerely pondering the question, staring into the lightless depths beneath. There really was only one answer, and considering anything else would be a lie to herself. Finally, she looked back at the One Beyond and quietly told It “I would.”
“That is dedication. I can accept that.” The long, thin arm stretched towards her, holding the light of her sun within. “You, Celestia, want to go back to Equestria.”
She nodded. Inside the small sphere, she could see her palace in Canterlot. Sunlight was falling into the high white stone halls through stained glass windows. Luna, her beloved sister, was there and so was Twilight, her prized student. She knew she had made the right decision. Then, the Beyond One's voice sounded once more.
[Equestria, Everfree Castle; 2nd of Bloom in the year 1004 after Nightmare Moon]
Twilight Sparkle awoke to find the gods talk above her smallish, fragile form. She was filled with instinctive certainty that she had indeed died and was now to be judged by the gods themselves. She had, in fact, only a vague idea why she had died – some fuzzy memories about a hungry, void darkness that had devoured first the sun and then her – but it was the gods' presence, speaking quietly and half merrily half solemnly, that gave her this ultimate certainty. She saw their mouths moving, heard the sounds they made, but the words were trivial, pointless even, a farce. For the true conversation was carried out above the shallow words through indecipherable means, imperceivable, yet, to Twilight, undoubtedly there. Mayhap, there was even a much greater context, one that spanned above the wordless conversation of the gods, a grand, universal context that made in its utter finality all exchange between two simple minds meaningless. Twilight looked at the two gods. One of them appeared very old, face wrinkly, yet full of laughter, the long, scaly form of an old, wise dragon. 'Father Time' might be a fitting name for him, but she wasn't sure. The other god, on the other hoof... On the first glance, she seemed like a normal pony, but when Twilight looked at her features, which were like chiselled from marble, she quickly recognized the Pale Pony, Lady Death herself, a ghostlike unicorn in the colour of bone. It was obvious, really. Twilight had died, and now this old dragon god of Time was negotiating with Death herself over her future.
And Twilight heard the calm voice of Death, each syllable an impeccable sculpture untouched by mortal drawl, language of unheard purity, pronunciation as it was designed to be. “Such we shall rest the topic momentarily, as my guest, the relatively esteemed Princess Twilight Sparkle, has awoken from her slumber. Courtesy demands I attend her.”
Like a tremendous, toppling mountain, the goddess' head turned towards her, and their eyes met. Hers, deep purple, reflected in the goddess' light rose ones that looked right into her. They seemed unlike any Twilight had ever seen. There was something about them; an inner light, a colour bleeding through, some faint tone undeniably present, yet indiscernible. It might have been a tinge of blue – or red even? Gold? The spark of colour seemed to shift under her gaze, blending from one hue to another without actually being either one of them. An uneasy feeling settled in her stomach as she saw that colour that had no name, and that no pony could possibly see. And yet, there it was, plainly visible to Twilight's eyes.
A glint passed through those impossible eyes, amusement in purest form, intellectual fire that briefly lit up those windows to the soul. One small glint of amusement. Twilight's entrails lurched, contracted.
The fanciful, illusory haze she had construed peeled off the two gods, and Lady Death made way to a pale, greyish unicorn while the collected, wise smile of Father Time made way to the spiteful sneer of Discord, Spirit of Chaos.
The unicorn's lips parted, and she spoke in that melodic, clockwork-precise, inequine type of a voice, velvety smoothness that filled Twilight with shivers as it slithered into her ears. “Your Royal Highness, it is good to see You awake and also alive as the alternative would mean that laying you into a bed had been vain effort, and I really despise wasting my time like that. It is a finite resource, after all.” The unicorn made an odd little motion that might just have passed as a courtesy and was indeed precisely coordinated to just fit within the definition of a courtesy. “For now, I am, as supervisor of the Everfree Technologies Alpha Compound, Your host and at Your service, Theory.” She smiled at Twilight, then quickly added “I would like to note that while technically we already have met, we technically have not met yet, so this is in fact the first time I meet another non-unconscious pony other than myself, which does not really count anyway. So, as the first truly relatable being to interact with me, you shoulder a great responsibility considering the psychological repercussions that could possibly arise from our interaction. You would do us all a great favour if you, if simply for the sake of my psyche, refrained from performing potentially psychologically scarring activities such as raping me or gouging my eyes out,” she concluded happily.
The fact that this pony talked about the most heinous of crimes with a smile on her lips and a cheerful tone in her voice didn't really improve the situation in Twilight's book. Realizing she was indeed lying in a bed, tucked in neatly under a warm blanket, didn't help in making it all less bizarre.
“Where am I? What's going on?” She struggled with her blanket, throwing panicked glances left and right. The bed was short, allowing little room for movement in direction of head or hoof, yet uncharacteristically wide, forming some kind of a third of a circle. To her left, it was open and to her right laid, in order, Applejack, Pinkie, Fluttershy, Rainbow, the insane old unicorn stallion and Rarity. The bed itself was placed in a round stone chamber, lit up by a chandelier hanging under the high, domed ceiling. The walls were lined with all sorts of shelves, boards, casings, storing a whole variety of things, each with a shining little brass label, which made the room look almost like a weird kind of museum.
“You are currently located inside the Everfree Technologies Alpha Compound Relic Storage and I am currently informing You why it is undesirable to gouge somepony's eyes out. For one thing, it hurts, and also renders you blind, which means you can not see. Of course, in my case, I could just grow new eyes, or see anyway, but that would somewhat defeat the purpose of having my eyes gouged out, would it not?” She pierced Twilight with a questioning gaze, but then decided that no answer Twilight could give would be in any form of value and she quickly spoke up again, cutting Twilight off before she managed to get out even a single syllable. “However, while these answers certainly answer the questions You asked, they surely are not the answers You wanted to receive in spite of not asking the correct questions. Thus, Your Highness, let me elaborate on what has transpired.” The unicorn continued in a sing-song voice that made her following sentences sound more like a nursery rhyme than a recounting of actual events. “When you so admirably attempted to banish me with the Elements of Harmony, You compromised the integrity of the barriers around reality. So to preserve your sanity before what you might call divinity, you had a fit of narcolepsy during my descent from eternity. For I am Theory, and of You I plea to not label me as an enemy, as to prevent great calamity.” She, again, performed a small courtesy before the princess.
Twilight, having managed to defeat the clingy blanket, left the bed and got back onto her four hooves. “So you came through that portal. You are this—monster.” She glared at the other pony, if that was what she was. Twilight wasn't so certain about that any more. “What have you done to the Princess and Spike?”
Grinning, Theory rose a hoof and booped Twilight's nose, triggering an involuntary reaction that caused her wings to flare. Theory chuckled as the alicorn's glare broke down in embarrassment. “First of all, yes. I am what came through the void gate. Second, yes and no. This language provides for no precise term that may describe my ontological relation to the entities your question might refer to. Third, I have done nothing. Celestia is wherever You banished her, and Spike is over there.”
Following the outstretched arm, Twilight found Spike sitting on some sort of masonry next to the wall. He was eating ice cream out of a white tub that bore the image of a silhouetted alicorn rearing up in front of a bold, segmented circle, next to it the label 'Everfree Technologies'. Spike waved at her.
“I gave him ice cream,” Theory noted. She turned to Spike, giving her voice a sharp edge. “You better be careful with that ice cream, young dragon. This sarcophagus is well 989 years old, and the floor is even older! If I find any vanilla-flavoured stains on them, I shall have to use my tremendous powers to remove them. And let me tell you something, Spike.” She closed in on him, peering at him through half-lidded eyes, nearly shoving her face into his. “I am really proficient at removing stains.”
Twilight used the opportunity to get a better look at Theory. For one, she noticed Theory was tall, not as tall as Celestia or Luna, but at least at Cadance's height, a bit larger than your average stallion. It wasn't really a miracle she hadn't noticed before. When you're lying down in a room you don't know and only have a shape-shifting avatar of Chaos as comparison, judging size is more than just hard. Aside from her size and her strangely luminescent eyes, Theory was notably inconspicuous. To her light grey coat came a dark grey mane and tail hanging limply in a most plain fashion, bare of any curl or quiff, completely straight. On her flank was either an invisibility cutie mark or none at all, strange considering she seemed fully grown, yet not strange considering she probably wasn't even a real pony at all.
The alicorn nearly jumped when Discord nudged her side with an elbow. His head was right next to hers, and he was obviously following her eyes, looking at Theory from the same angle as she. When she turned to him, he simply grinned and wriggled his brows, earning an exasperated groan.
“Right!” Theory whipped around. Discord immediately blinked over to leaning against a wall and whistling innocently. “Greeting the divinity, done. Pacifying the infant, done. Greeting the royalty, done. Next up, briefing employees.” She marched towards the bed. Twilight noticed that it, too, featured brass labels, such as 'Alicorn: Twilight Sparkle' or 'Pegasus: Fluttershy'. “Cease pretence of dormancy promptly, former Listener!” Theory snapped, fixating the unicorn stallion wedged between Rainbow Dash and Rarity. Mister MacMad-Eye, as he was of now called, opened his eyes slowly, as if he feared retribution in case he made any sudden movements. When he however realized what was keeping him comfortably warm from his left and right, he froze, his pupils narrowing to pinpricks and darting wildly from one side to the other.
Theory sighed. “That is what you get for employing mentally damaged sociopaths.” Her horn flashed red, and the stallion was teleported out of the bed and onto his hooves. She frowned at him. “First of all, bad news. The Watcher is gone, which means the Order of the Watcher is pretty much pointless. Everfree Technologies is taking over the facility, and as we have no Watcher, we need no Listener. So, congratulations, you are now our new janitor.” She smiled at him, turned away, then back at him. “Janitor, I have some bad news for you. We are replacing all the cleaning staff with automatons. This means you are fired.” Mister MacMad-Eye gazed upon her in utter puzzlement and confusion. “In cultist terms, I am saying you have served me well and I am relieving you of your servitude.”
For a couple of seconds, he just eyed her anxiously, then sighed, let his head hang down and whispered “It's not as if I haven't expected this.” He looked up. “The plan has been executed. My purpose has been fulfilled. Tell me, what point is there to my life now?”
Theory chuckled. “It is always the same set of questions ephemerals ask those who do not possess their constraints. Listen closely, my little pony, for it is rare that their pleas are answered thus.” She leaned forward, her brilliant eyes gleaming in outlandish light. “Life only has intrinsic meaning to those who are predated by the very intent their life seeks to fulfil. Theirs is the certainty of meaning, which those that are born without such intent do not possess. Yet while those may be damned to wander lost and without direction, only they have the power to shape who and what they are to be, and only they can create their own direction to follow. Giving meaning to another is an action of destruction that voids these possibilities. Receiving meaning from another is always paid with freedom. Asking me what the point to your life is is rejection of the freedom I gifted you with.”
As the pulsating light reflected in the stallion's eyes, a wave of colour seemed to wash over him, like a cloud passing from before the sun, letting the warm glow shine anew. His gaze steadied, his breath calmed, his coat and mane seemed smoother, less patchy, more colourful.
“What did you do to him?” Twilight breathed, staring at the absent smile Mister MacMad-Eye displayed.
“I only helped him.” Theory smirked slyly. “He has lived his whole life in servitude and now that he is free, he sees no sense in keeping on living. I merely lifted his fears of the light, mended his twisted mind and gave him back into the embrace of Harmony. I just gave him what he needed to live happily ever after. Surely you can not condemn me for helping such a poor, unfortunate soul?”
Twilight frowned, trying find fault in her reasoning or come up with some kind of response that would wipe away that smug look when Mister MacMad-Eye sighed, causing Theory to turn to him and shush her.
“Freedom,” he said dreamily. “I've always felt a bit like a prisoner, always underground, always constricted by walls in every direction, the darkness always stuck in earth and stone.” He shook his head as if to shoo away some bugging, buzzing insect. “And the schedule. Always the schedule. Everything set in stone, one thing after the other, like, like beads on a string. All had its order, the food I ate, the things I did. I remember Aunt Minty, back when I was little, she even had a set date when to die. Took everypony by surprise when she lived five hours longer than scheduled.” He sighed again.
Twilight glanced sideways at Theory, eyes wide, but the mare merely smiled and nodded.
The olden stallion looked up with sudden clarity, directly into Theory's bright eyes. “I don't want this any more,” he declared. “I want a place, a life where there's no walls in my face. I don't wanna be afraid of the unexpected any more. I want unexpected to be normal, so there's no day-to-day, always the same, trot, where the air grows stale and your hooves step into the same tracks again and again. I want to live in a place where the shadows flow freely. I want to see the night. I don't want to eat any more mushrooms.”
“My friend.” Theory placed a hoof around his shoulders and smiled down at him, her eyes sparkling. “The world you desire is right outside. The meadows and hills of Equestria are covered in fresh, green grass. Her air is filled with the song of birds and the music of the winds. It is there you can find the unexpected that may be harmless, even pleasant, if only you have the fortitude to search for it.”
“Isn't that dangerous?” he asked, insecurity in his words.
“Not more than what you already faced down here. Remember who you are. You are the pony that remained when all else were gone. You persevered. I doubt you will find any danger out there that you cannot withstand, that you cannot overcome. Unless of course,” Theory grinned, “It is your intention to seek danger. Now go, be brave.”
Mister MacMad-Eye nodded, managed some nigh-incomprehensible words of thanks before turning away, trotting briskly to the room's exit, briefly ignited his horn to activate a mechanism of pulleys, gears, bars and counterweights that smoothly lifted the great stone bolts and latches, opening the massive vault doors. As he left, Theory called after him. “Use one of the secondary entrances or, if you feel sufficiently able, the spatial translocation nexus. The main elevator is reserved for a certain guest of honour.”
“So, who was he?” Twilight asked over the astonishingly quiet sound of the stone door relocking. She shot a suspicious glance Theory's way. “Some kind of slave?”
“Oh, Celestia forbid, no.” Theory chuckled, shaking her head. “He was a Listener. He freely chose to dedicate his life to serve the Watcher.” There was some strange quality to Theory's voice or pronunciation that made capitals and punctuation oddly audible.
“He did say he always felt like a prisoner.” Twilight pointed out pointedly.
“I never imprisoned him in any way. He saw to that completely by himself and on his own account.”
Twilight raised a sceptical eyebrow to accentuate the frown she directed at Theory.
“The sturdiest of prisons” – Theory tapped Twilight on the chest – “are built inside your own head, and their walls are made from who you are.” And with a smile, she abruptly turned back to the bed full of ponies. “Next point on the agenda,” she chirped, “Is welcoming our remaining guests.” She glanced over the lying pony friends and cleared her throat. “Good evening, and welcome to the Everfree Technologies Alpha Compound. You have been in hibernation for 7443 seconds and are now awake. In accordance to this fact, your hibernation comfort supplementation structure will be terminated in further three seconds.”
With an “I'm up!”, Pinkie bounced out of the bed like a spring while the rest of the pony friends just began to stir. Then, after precisely three seconds, Theory stamped her hoof onto the hard floor and the bed with all its sheets and blankets disintegrated in a bright flash of light and violation of the First Law of Thermodynamics. As the ponies still busied themselves with picking themselves up from the ground, Twilight trotted over to join them, while Theory already addressed the small group.
“I trust you all had a good rest and recovered well from the shock of witnessing a void gate and the start of an incarnation process. On that note, I would also like to assure you that the situation has been concluded successfully, will not reiterate in the foreseeable future and is nothing to worry about any further.” Theory smiled reassuringly at the now fully awakened little herd. “As we have never met and I have not been heard of it is now time for introductions, I believe. My name is Theory, and I am corporate executive officer of Everfree Technologies and supervisor of the Everfree Technologies Alpha Compound.”
“Ugh, my brain!” Discord groaned, interrupting Theory's monologue. “Could you get even wordier, please? I'm not already bored enough.” He fluttered over to her side and dismissively waved his paw. “Yadda yadda yadda, we get it. Long story short, that's Theory, she came through the big silly portal and she is the Spirit of Knowledge and Insight and overly long and complicated sentences.” He stuck his serpent tongue out. “Basically like me, but in a different flavour.”
“While your statement is relatively accurate, I would not put it that bluntly. Aside from the detail that I possess world-shattering powers of reality manipulation and an intellect to match, I am an ordinary unicorn.” Theory paused briefly before revising her statement. “For certain values of 'ordinary', at least.”
“What's so bad about making things nice, quick and simple?” Discord asked innocently, batting his suddenly very long eyelashes at her. “I thought you like efficiency.”
“True, but just walking up to somepony and telling them 'I am Theory, Spirit of Knowledge and Insight' usually has the connotation 'Bow before me lest I devour your soul!', which ticks ponies off, dumps you into the 'evil overlord' pigeon-hole and earns you a free treatment with the Elements of Harmony,” Theory explained, then turned to Twilight and her friends. “By the way, they are in the display case on the left-hoof side, just in case you feel the sudden urge to petrify me.”
“You know, Spirit of Knowledge and Insight doesn't sound that bad to me,” Twilight offered, earning some slightly hesitant, but affirmative nods from her friends.
“I,” Discord snapped, pointing a claw at her, “find that offensive! It is little things like that which open the door for discrimination and persecution. Before you know you'll make claims like 'Chaos and Disharmony are inherently bad.'” He produced a sound of indignation by sharply sucking in air through his nostrils.
“Well, they kinda are,” Rainbow Dash said bluntly.
“What?!” Discord nearly had a stroke. Since he didn't want it, he passed it to his past self from a second before. In the end, after a lot of passing around, the stroke ended up somewhere in prehistoric times, resulting in the first thing for Discord to ever feel being a heart attack. “You aren't telling me you like Order and Concord, are you?”
“That is, to some extent, the basic idea behind Equestrian society, yes.” Theory nodded at the draconequus with the bulging eyes.
“Well, that certainly isn't playing fair.” Discord crossed his asymmetric arms.
“Not playing fair? Perhaps we haven't met. I'm Discord, Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony. Hello-o?” Theory replied in perfect replication of Discord's voice, and raised an eyebrow.
Discord chuckled, breaking up his indignant demeanour. “Ah, it's good to have somepony who gets my humour.” He leaned himself onto Theory, using her head as an armrest, and grinned. “It really is a boon to at last find a match to my intelligence.”
“Well,” Theory deadpanned, “These walls are built from a particularly dense type of stone to better contain the emissions of the arcane artefacts stored in here.”
“Arcane artefacts?” Twilight asked with renewed interest through the ruckus caused by Discord gagging and downing the contents of a barrel-sized flask labelled 'pun sickness remedy'.
Theory's ears perked up as she registered another opportunity for monologue. “The Everfree Technologies Alpha Compound Relic Storage,” she began, “Contains a sorted assortment of various artefacts of magical significance. The bulk of them are remnants from the past of the Order of the Watcher, though some of them are simply here for safety reasons, for instance to protect the item in question from being lost. While most of the pieces here are relatively mundane, such as the different editions of 'Predictions and Prophecies' or the 'Equigenesis', there are also some illustrious types as the 'Kitab Al'Azif', the 'Panbioticon', the Key of Tartarus or the Elements of Harmony. They were all mostly intended to be used as part of one or the other emergency protocol. Aside from the relics of knowledge, technology and magic, there remain of course some pieces of purely sentimental worth.” She pointed her left front hoof at a collection of oil paintings on the far wall. “These works of art may serve as example. Do you have any more specific questions on any of these items?”
Theory turned back to Twilight (and Rarity, whose interest had been sparked the moment art got involved) and quickly adapted a look of genuine surprise when Rainbow Dash, precisely as calculated, flew before her and started speaking quick and loud. “Whoa, whoa; wait a second! You can't just go and lecture us. I mean, where are we even? And what about the princess and that big black hole?”
“Rainbow Dash, third Bearer of Loyalty, a pleasure to finally meet you. The Element of Loyalty has always played a rather unique role in the grand scheme of things, and so far nothing indicates you might be an exception.” A wide smile spread on Theory's lips. “Nonetheless, as I have already mentioned, the issue of the portal to the Beyond is not of immediate significance, so you will forgive me if I answer your first question first. To explain what this facility is, let me tell you all a small story.”
Lowering herself onto her haunches, Theory gestured the six pony friends to seat themselves as well; an invitation to which Discord instantly responded by conjuring up a king-sized armchair, a pair of thick glasses, a plaid dressing gown and a bubble-spewing meerschaum pipe.
“Once upon a time, in the magical land of Equestria, there was an infamous tyrant who ruled arbitrarily and created discord for all the land,” Theory began her tale in a solemn, subdued voice. “The Bearer of the Element of Loyalty sought to bring peace and order to all the ponies, yet was powerless against the ruler. But although she was desperate and all hope seemed lost, she did not abandon the ponies she had sworn to protect. She gained unlikely aid from an immaterial being from outside the world, who desired to live within it. Realizing they could only succeed in their respective quests together, they allied, one promising to bring down the tyrant, the other agreeing to bring the first to life.”
At this point, Applejack got up quietly to retrieve her hat from one of the nearby shelves, where it had laid next to a plain gold ring.
“One fateful day, guided by faint whispers from the darkness, Loyalty used all of her power to tear apart the very fabric of the world and call upon her ally to defeat the tyrant. However, all that came forth was a mere shadow of what she had hoped for, a simple conduit for the mind of her ally. Still, even though powerless, the ally devised a plan to dispose of the despot and guide Equestria to a new age of prosperity as well as make a place in the world for himself. Thus, the Bearer and the conduit, in ultimate consequence of their alliance, joined together to form a new being, a union of minds and body, Watcher and Listener, blessed with the gift of foresight. Together with a group of brave ponies, the Order of the Watcher, she worked relentlessly on Equestria's betterment. And although her unity with her ally was eventually broken, the Watcher, as an immortal being of pure mind, survived, and a new Listener rose to lead the Order.” Getting up, Theory pointed out one particular painting, depicting what seemed to be a festive celebration, a coronation of grandeur surpassing nearly everything in known history. “Soon, the ruler was defeated and the ponies were reunited under two regal sisters who brought back Harmony to the land. Equestria began to recover. The Watcher, however, had realised the fatal flaw in his plan: it relied on a progressive series of events to occur exactly as foreseen, and any deviation would, over time, amplify exponentially, causing events to spiral out of control. So to prevent ill from befalling Equestria, the Listener built a tremendous machine, one that would help detect these deviations ere they could cause harm, the most powerful tool of divination ever construed. Such, the Order could ensure that Equestria followed her destined path of Harmony and help the Watcher on his way to life. It is this system of caverns and tunnels that houses the great machine, the Arcane Field Data Measurement And Processing Plant.”
“And that is a true story?” Applejack frowned, small creases playing around her forehead and muzzle.
Theory slowly tilted her head from one side to the other as if contemplating something. “That depends on how you look at things. Naturally, I abbreviated for the sake of time and omitted detail for the sake of the bigger picture. So, while it is true, it is certainly not the complete truth. Then again, who or what can claim complete truth, safe perhaps That Who Is?” She shrugged. “But nonetheless this story has certainly served as subjective truth for many a generation.”
“How come I've never heard of this?” Twilight asked. “I understand that our knowledge of the time before Princess Celestia and Princess Luna is incomplete at best, but even in our earliest records I've never seen anything about such a group of ponies, let alone such a machine.”
“You have to understand that the great plan was designed under the assumption that nopony knew about it. Surely you can see that ponykind at large would display different behavioural patterns if knowledge were to circulate of an institution that made certain pony history would follow the path of Harmony. Like a self-fulfilling prophecy is validated by being made, this plan of the future would have been invalidated by being made known. Secrecy was compulsory, thus your lack of knowledge.”
“And what is this 'path of Harmony', huh?” Rainbow Dash crossed her arms, beating her wings to slowly take off once again. She edged closer to Theory, hovering on her eye level. “Because I'm not convinced you really want the best for Equestria.”
“Speaking abstractly, the path of Harmony would, to you, be synonymous with destiny. In a more concrete manner, the path of Harmony is what you see when you look at the last few centuries – aside from one or two little bumps in the road.” Theory frowned thoughtfully, but brightened up again almost immediately. “Still, I think we did a decent job keeping Equestria on her path. You know,” she added cheerfully, “Why not tour around the facility for a bit and show you the most interesting parts? It would certainly be educational.”
Discord groaned and liquefied in his armchair. “I don't think I can take much more monologuing from you.”
“Oh, come now,” Theory clicked her tongue in the most reproachful manner a tongue could ever hope to click. It did, in fact, unleash a volley of reproaches in such magnitude that it would have been tangible had it been more substantial. “I promise it will not be as boring as you might imagine.”
She began moving towards the vault door, upon which Discord sighed, dissolved his chair, dribbled to the floor and flowed behind her. Seeing not much choice, the ponies followed suit, albeit cautious to not step into Discord. Under the cold red light of Theory's horn, the door's wings gave way to a corridor of plain stone, each wall lined with a stripe of some sort of luminous substance that kept everything in a dull twilight.
Stepping through the opening and out of their way, Theory turned back to the ponies. “I will only show you a few rooms. The facility is quite extensive, and a full tour would take time I am not willing to supply.”
Discord seeped out of the chamber and up a wall, followed (though not up the wall) by the six ponies and eventually the small ice-cream-eating dragon.
“We are currently in one of the oldest parts of the facility, one that belonged to the original dungeons of Castle Everfree,” Theory explained. “The relic storage we just left has been used in that very capacity for nearly fifteen centuries, though it has been heavily modified before reaching its current form.” She began trotting down the corridor, still talking. “Even though the Order used the pre-existing deeper levels of Castle Everfree as a basis, the Measurement and Processing Plant as well as the rooms housing it still took about a hundred and fifty years in total to complete. This slow pace is, however, mostly a consequence of the issue of secrecy caused by the many ponies involved into the construction work.”
As the ponies followed her around a corner, Discord suddenly boiled and bubbled up, frothing into his usual serpentine shape, solidifying from iridescent foam. Noticing that Spike was lagging behind, Twilight allowed him to climb on her back and jogged after the others.
“The original plan was to use memory wipes, but that proved too impractical. The Order of the Watcher eventually ended up using mostly geasa and a bit of misdirection to ensure the discretion of all ponies involved. Nevertheless, this became unnecessary about twelve decades into the reign of the Royal Pony Sisters, when the Order could rely entirely on the abilities of its members as well as mechanical and magical aid, and thus was independent from outside workforce.” Theory stopped in front of an old metal door bearing the same emblem of the alicorn and the cog- or wheel-like circle. It, too, swung aside at the light of Theory's horn.
“Please take note of the special safety doors,” Theory said as they all passed the doorway. “These are featured both here, on the entrance to the workshop section, and in each individual room of the wing. They are airtight, fireproof, pressure-resistant, water-repellent, and only one of them may be open at a time, giving this corridor here an airlock-like function that helps to contain hazards like toxic aerosols, explosions and methane fumes.”
This corridor they entered was wider than the last, far-spaced doors of similar design evenly lining both left- and right-hoof wall. Exposed piping burst through the ceiling, every now and then a large open vent pointing down like a black, gaping maw hanging overhead. The air that hit them was cool and dry, the moist, mammalian warmth of their breaths creating small puffs of mist. As the door closed behind the ponies, a sound like rushing wind welled up from the metal tubes, dampened but distinguishable; the steady breathing of a monster deep in its cave. It was no inviting place.
“And behind every single one of those doors is a room for ponies to workshop in?” Pinkie's critical gaze swept up and down the hallway before locking onto Theory. “Why do you need so super many of them?”
“Specialisation,” Theory replied smoothly. “Every room is accommodated to a specific discipline, housing specialised equipment and that ilk. Here we have alchemy, there spellcraft. Over there are genetic engineering and craftsponyship, then there is transplanar experimental magic, robotics, the magazine and a few more.” After indicating every room mentioned, her haphazard hoof stopped flailing and settled back on the floor as she turned back to Pinkie Pie. “It is only reasonable to separate projects that are so different. After all, you would not make dresses in your bakery's kitchen, now would you?”
“Of course not,” Pinkie giggled. “They'd get all messy!”
“Exactly.” Theory nodded. “When you combine baking and sewing, you just get batter on your designs, and if you try combining genetic enhancements with erratic transplanar magic, you get rampaging shadow monsters.” Theory smiled to herself. “Those are nasty.”
“I'm sorry, what was that about dresses?” Rarity asked, having been mildly occupied by fixing up the various sleep-induced ruffles and tousles of her mane and tail.
“Ah, yes. Garments and the like are craftsponyship, the second door to the left.” Theory shook a grey hoof in the general direction. “Say, why not visit it? The room is dedicated to most general kinds of artifice and probably the most interesting for most of you. Come along, ponies!”
The workshop for craftsponyship was an oblong room, walls hung with many tools and instruments of all sorts and purposes, one or two shelves full of little bits and pieces that could always come in hoovy, lit by dim glass orbs hanging in adjustable altitude over long, solid benches of stone or steel and, back at the far wall, a forge hot with pale-bluish flame. The air was warm, but carried a heavy stench of smouldering metal, unpleasant and pungent. There was no smoke visible though; supposedly, it was filtered away through one of the large metal pipes. At one of the benches next to the fire stood a unicorn, tall and slender outline sharp against its light, polishing a set of armour made from bright, blue-silvery metal, sparkling and shining as if newly made.
“I see you are already finished,” Theory spoke out. “A pity, really. I was hoping we might show our guests the workshop 'in action', so to speak.”
The unicorn shrugged. Satisfied with its sheen, she set the plated boot she had been working on aside and turned to the freshly arrived party. “I finished on time, which can hardly be seen as reprehensible.”
The ponies, recognizing her, were slack-jawed. Eyes darting to and fro between Theory and Theory, Applejack managed a faint “Are y'all seein' what I see?”
Discord, dressed in boots and vest, straw in the corner of his mouth, popped up from beneath her hat. Holding up a hand above his eyes to shield them from the sun, he squinted into the distance. “Hard to tell, really. Unless you're suffering from hallucinations, my hard-working friend, I'd say yes, we all are indeed seeing what you see.” He slid down her forehead, shrinking further, and settled, legs crossed, on her muzzle whilst generously ignoring the mare's repulsed shiver. “However, I fail to see what you are fussing about.”
“Um, Discord?” Fluttershy shuffled nervously. “I think it's just that there's two of Theory.” She seemed to shrink under the weight of the mentioned unicorns' four eyes. “Not that that's a bad thing, of course.”
“But that's just being in several places at the same time,” Discord whined. “–Or, rather, being several times in the same place,” he added more levelly before resuming his nasal complaint. “You never seemed to notice when I did that,” he finished, pouting.
“Are you not ever so amusing,” Theory commented in haughty monotone, strutting closer to stand by her own side.
“What you should take from this incident,” Theory added, “is that matters of quality and quantity are different altogether. That is always a good lesson to learn.”
“Just note that your simple concept of numericals only model a distinct context and become all but inane in any deviating system.”
And with that, Theory stepped into herself and was one again. Twilight idly opened and closed her mouth a few times in search of one unbeatable argument in favour of numbers. In the end, she remained silent, with a slightly queasy feeling that if one and two were the same, checklists would no longer work.
It should be noted here that being two was actually twice as difficult for Theory as being one. However, it should also be noted that being one was about as hard for Theory as it would be for an ordinary person to be none. It was really just a matter of quantity and thereby, to Theory, a secondary concern.
A turn, a flick of the head, her horn bathing in light again, a sliver of magic sprung forth. Theory's spell wisped through the room, pieces of sparkling armour lifted by its telekinetic pull gravitating towards it. Meeting its destination, the spell flared up to deliver a large mannequin for the protective wear to rest on. Another hum of magic, one more flash of the horn, and the armoured pony effigy animated, rose from its dematerializing stand and stepped forward.
To Twilight, it was baffling, enough so as to stir her from her pondering of arithmetics. Theory's spellwork was immaculate, unreal even. The sheer speed at which she assembled the spells and the rapidity with which they deployed themselves made it all but impossible for Twilight, who was normally quite adept at analysing a spell on sight, oft even to the point she could replicate all but the most difficile of magics, to pry any information on their structure and function. All she was ever able to discern were crude overlying patterns and vague similarities to her own spells – here an aspect of telekinesis, there a teleportation vector, then something roughly resembling the outline of a come-to-life spell. They seemed like plumb tools, her own spells, next to the art Theory was practising. It reminded her of Rainbow Dash, in an odd way. Theory was flying fast overhead, doing tricks and pirouettes, scaling mountains in seconds where all other unicorns had to crawl around every bump and root like little turtles – I mean tortoises. It was unicorn magic just fine, but on a level beyond everything ever proposed in Equestrian history, save perhaps the most abstract and crackpot theories.
As her inquisitive gaze met Theory's glimmering eyes and registered her faint smirk, another parallel between Dash and Theory sprung to her mind: Both excelled greatly at what they did, and both knew it all too well.
“I must say,” the sound of Discord's voice diverted Twilight's attention, “I'd rather expected you ponies to pay more attention to this.” He waved his unequal arms to indicate the surrounding space – in his case, the glittering surface of the armour's chestpiece, where he was rested on the etched emblem of a crescent moon. Twilight moved a step closer to bet a better look at the armour. It did seem awfully familiar...
“I just cleaned that.” Theory sounded disdainful. “Would you mind not getting your essence all over it? This is hardly hygienic.”
The flat draconequus snorted. His talon clicked and a white flash of light heralded the appearance of the stylized picture of an upright wooden pole in boggy environs on Theory's thigh. Not even turning her head to survey the result of Discord's doing, Theory rapped her front hoof on the floor, and Discord was assaulted by the fine picture of some spray bottle pouring delicate images of tiny droplets all over him.
One more snap, another flash.
The false cutie mark and the spray bottle had vanished; Discord, now back in three dimensions, stood in the middle of the room, dripping wet, reeking of disinfectant. He glowered down at Theory, a strange fire in his eyes, and growled “You have shamed me.”
“That I have.” Theory's expression was nondescript.
“Then I demand satisfaction for this indignity!” Discord hissed. He raised a paw, crackling with power, and pointed it at Theory. There was a blast like from a cannon, and blinding radiance erupted from his hand. The room shook and trembled at the discharge of unearthly power. Smoke and a stench of sulphur and gunpowder filled the room. Silence fell as ghostly after-images of the blinding outburst danced around everypony's retinas. Discord's arm slackened, sparks of dissipating energy trailing off and falling to the floor. Aided by the ventilation system, the fumes began to swiftly fade away, and soon all were to behold what had happened.
Theory was wearing a striped scarf around her neck.
She glanced down in moderate puzzlement. “Why do you accessorize me?” she asked, tugging at the band of soft, warming cloth with a hoof. “It is unnecessary.”
“That's the point, my dear.” Discord grinned; his fur had been dried in the eruption of heat and light. “You don't like things that are unnecessary, so this is the perfect retribution for” – and he said that last thing overflowing with his own irony-tinged version of pathos – “wounding my pride.—besides,” he added in a subdued tone, addressing the ponies present, “she just looks a lot better that way, doesn't she?”
The look on Rarity's face not only conveyed her complete intolerance for the Spirit's antics, but also very clearly signalled that patchwork scarves with wide stripes in garish hues were so out of season she'd rather die than wear one. It was late Spring, after all.
“I see. While 'like' would not be my choice of words, I get your meaning.” Theory gave a sharp nod. “Very well, then. I shall wear this scarf as redress for the shame I inflicted upon you, as well as sign of peace amongst us.”
“I concur,” Discord drawled. “Please do proceed.”
Both extended an arm towards the other, hoof shook paw.
“Splendid.” Theory grinned back up at him. “May I furtherly request permit to fraternize with your mortal allies?”
Discord shrugged. “Sure, why not. If you want to make friends with ponies, I won't be standing be in your way.”
Theory nodded. She turned to the door, grin still persistent, and called out “If you would all come along, I will show you the main entrance.”
Theory hurried through the corridors, quickly taking a turn right, then four sharp turns to the left. The ponies followed her, and surprisingly soon, the walls gave way to a large, circular room with a high ceiling. Several other paths branched off the chamber, some quickly leading down steep stairways, deeper into the earth. At the room's centre, surrounded by three strong pillars, was a shallow, circular indentation, a round terrace lowered a hoof's width into the floor. Directly above it was an opening in the ceiling of exactly the same shape and dimensions, a shaft leading upwards. Already familiar glass spheres acted as lanterns, slowly powering up to glow brighter as the group entered. Runic inlays running around the walls and retractable bulkheads, massive stone sliding doors, above each of the room's entrances suggested the possibility the chamber could be sealed off quite thoroughly, possibly to prevent or hamper intrusion from outside via the shaft.
“This is the Everfree Technologies Alpha Compound Main Access Lift,” Theory declared.
There was a soft slapping sound as Discord sunk a paw deep into his face.
“It connects to the surface and utilizes anti-gravitational and inertial fields to achieve a loud-bearing capacity of several tons worth of weight. There is also a mechanical counterweight backup system in case water gets into the catalyst matrix. It is also one of the few mechanisms active by default when the facility is running on emergency power.” Theory frowned. “It is actually a shame that it had to be kept secret. This lift is probably the greatest achievement of pony engineering in the Post-Classical Period. And presumably the safest way of transport currently available in all of Equestria.”
There was a hollow clanging sound far up the shaft, followed by a perpetual, low rumble. Flakes of dust tumbled down from the ceiling and the shaft. Metal ground against stone, a dull thud, the rumbling stopped.
“What is it with you ponies? It is safe,” Theory responded to the piercing stares of the surrounding ponies.
A long, high groan of strained metal creaked down from above, mingled with the sharp ticking and clicking of busy clockwork.
“Ah, it is time now.” Fresh enthusiasm filled Theory's voice. “We are expecting a special guest.”
As she motioned for the ponies to come closer, the rumbling resumed, stronger this time, more rhythmic, more frantic, thundering away like an oncoming train.
“Now, I know all of you might be a bit reserved, and rightfully so, given the circumstances, but I want you to know that the pony you are about to meet is very important; not just to me, but to everypony. Without her, none of this would have been possible, and it is only through her support and dedication that we all have been able to come together on this day. So, be on your best behaviour, would you kindly?”
Theory turned, trotting towards the room's centre. The mannequin followed her, its armour slightly fluorescent in the dimness. Discord yawned. The gears and pulleys rumbled on.
From the shaft, a round platform descended, congruent to the indentation in the floor below. Its rapid venture downward began slowing considerably and under considerable crunching and screeching. Its landing, however, was soft as a feather's fall, and similarly noisy. The platform settled snug in the ground, leaving only a hairline as indication of its existence. Atop its surface stood a blue mare.
"Of all the aberrations born under the sun of Discord's madness, none were as terrible, powerful, devious, wonderful and beautiful as those two we all have come to call Princess."
—Sand Song, 452 before Nightmare Moon
One could say there was a certain duality involved when it came to the two Royal Sisters. Princess Celestia would rule the day and Princess Luna watch over the night. But of course, that was only the most obvious part of it. In a way, one could say that similarly, Celestia was a mare of reason and deliberation and Luna one of emotion and impulse. Naturally, that didn't mean Celestia was incapable of compassion or that Luna wouldn't think before acting. It went along different lines. Where Celestia crafted her magic into formulaic spells and willed them to work with great precision and superb control, Luna would weave them more according to her feelings, and intuitively shape the magic to do as she desired. Where Celestia was a statesmare, Luna was an artist. Celestia could talk to diplomats and lawyers, Luna to animals.
Celestia would rule the day and Luna watch over the night. That's what it boiled down to, in the end. Celestia listened to her ponies' waking complaints, and Luna made sure they had none while they were asleep, attending to her subjects' dreams.
Luna loved keeping her subjects safe in their sleep. Their dreams often allowed her to be closer to her subjects than her sister would ever be, and she could aid them all individually, doing so much more good on a personal level than most policies and laws. That had not always been that way, of course. In olden times, she had seen it mainly as labour, and resented it as it had seemed to her she was the only one labouring when all else were resting; worse even, it was her work that allowed them to rest.
To Luna, the realm of dreams was a wondrous place, and even after centuries of walking the dreamscape (something she had done quite regularly even before becoming a princess of Equestria) she would still find herself in awe of the beautiful images devised by her little ponies' dreaming minds.
But just like there was beauty that could be found in dreams, there were also occasions where images of fear and terror would take hold of a pony's dream. The reasons for this were many, but not as many as there had been in the past, and those occasions were much rarer, too. The dreamscape of Luna's youth had been a wild place, terrible and dangerous, where the possibility of getting lost and never finding your way back into the waking world was not only very real, but actually one of the lesser perils of dreaming. It had gotten a lot better after Discord had been imprisoned; what remained afterwards had been tamed by Luna herself in the course of several hundred years. Among the well-versed, there was talk about a special wing in the depths of Tartarus reserved especially for fiends that dwelt solely within the realm of mind and imagination, filled mostly by Princess Luna more that a thousand years ago.
After her millennial imprisonment, Luna had found that some of the peril had returned to her subjects' dreams – but what darkness had managed to take hold was mostly harmless. While Celestia was not able to walk dreams, she had been taking care of those foulnesses that had some root in the real world, for those where susceptible to spells of banishment, protection, exorcism and more.
What remained where minor darknesses that where almost all sole inhabitants of the dream world. Those creators of nightmares where with little exception dreamcrawlers, miserable little spirits that induced terrors and preyed on the fear of her ponies. A closer specification forbade itself in most cases. If they were spawn of windigos, if lost and pained soul, if curse of Discord, if echo of the deceased, minor demon of the underworld or even shadow of some unnatural Thing from the Outer Planes, Luna was seldom able to determine.
Yet even those were dwindling in numbers only two years after she had taken up her duty again. No, these days the most common source of nightmares where the dreamers themselves, who carried the fears of their waking hours into their dreams. Such dreams were unpleasant, but under Luna's guiding hoof, they could help their ponies cope and learn to overcome their fears, and thereby mostly caused more good than harm.
But today, it was no bad dream from which a valuable lesson could be learned that occupied her so. It was very much a dreamcrawler, but one with abilities she had not seen for ages in anyone but herself. Ordinarily, a dreamcrawler would latch onto a pony and feed off the fear it caused them. They were usually simple to combat from afar using her dream magic. Sometimes it even sufficed to lead the pony it preyed on to recognise it and drive it away, which both robbed the dreamcrawler of its source of power and turned its host against it. That way, if the dreamcrawler's own magic was not great enough to overcome the pony's dreaming mind, it would be banished from it, usually to never return again.
Last night, however, she had encountered a dreamcrawler that had resisted all of her usual methods of dealing with it. In fact, it had behaved oddly from the start. Luna had, while keeping watch over the night, sensed the anguish coming from a pony's dream – from a mare called Golden Harvest, to be precise – and as her gazing into the dream had not revealed it to be caused from anything of import that might be seed for learning, she had radiated Laughter into the dream, which usually had the effect of gently turning the nightmare back into something happy. As that had failed, she had surmised there had to be a dreamcrawler or a deeper, underlying fear at work here. She had entered the dream without revealing herself, and almost instantly caught the traces of a dreamcrawler's work – fears not coming from the imagination of the dreamer. Oddly enough, just as she had noticed the dreamcrawler's presence, it had sensed hers, and, even more oddly, begun to hide within the dream. She hadn't thought much of it and hunted the beast tormenting her subject down. It had taken her a bit tearing through the horrible figments haunting Golden Harvest until she finally found the dreamcrawler disguised with the inconspicuous form of a coffee table. Joining forces with the dreaming pony, she had chased the wayward furniture through the increasingly labyrinthine hallways of a dreamt-up version of Golden Harvest's home in Ponyville, at last trapping the dreamcrawler in a dead end. But as she had it cornered, it managed to slip away into an adjacent dream. (The dreamscape possessed its own, ever-changing topography, which was somewhat related to, but mostly independent of the shape of the real world. In that sense, it wasn't adjacent in a spatial way, but in one of similitude in dream, emotion, magic and minds of the dreamers.) Luna had followed the dreamcrawler, and the process repeated itself for a few times. After tracking it down through four or five different dreams, she had managed to isolate the dream it had fled into from the rest of the dreamscape, shielding it in such a way that the only dream accessible from there would be her own, where her influence was appropriately greater.
It almost worked. Almost. When she had the annoyingly persistent nasty backed into a corner once again, and once again forced it to switch dreams, it had figured out what she was doing. For a fleeting moment she felt it peeking inside the dream she had prepared for it, and then it had pulled back when it recognized her as the dreamer. It had taken her one or two seconds to realise it wasn't going into her trap, and before she had the opportunity to obliterate it there and then, it had disturbed the dream they were in so greatly the dreamer had woken up – taking the dreamcrawler with him.
Where the dreamcrawler's previous behaviour had been highly irregular, this was something she hadn't seen since the days of Discord, when the border between reality and dream had been much more permeable than in any way desirable. A dreamcrawler attaching to a waking host and using that to escape into the waking world? In these times, that was almost unbelievable. She realised, of course, that the dreamcrawler, strictly speaking, couldn't have become real, at least not in the physical sense. It had merely left the dreamscape, and with it her influence, by clinging to the mind of one of her ponies like a blood-sucking parasite – which, indeed, was the closest analogy to a dreamcrawler the kingdom animalia had to offer. This greatly upset her, as it reminded her of a spell of her own design, which would influence dreams at night but remained latent within the dreamer when they woke. It was almost like it was her fault – and she couldn't stand that. After what damage Nightmare Moon had and could have caused, she had sworn herself to never again let her ponies come to harm, be it through action or inaction.
So she set herself on finding this vicious dreamcrawler. Locating the pony the dreamcrawler had infested was easy enough an exercise. He was a young colt, and through his parents and teacher, who she knew as a niece of one of her maids, she was able to find his name and address. She might not have been able to remember each of her subjects as well as Celestia, who prided herself on never forgetting a face, but she knew them from their dreams on an emotional level. Also, she had, over centuries of watching over dreams, gained an uncannily accurate ability of guessing her ponies' names just from their dreams and personality, which really came in quite useful on that occasion.
What was more of a challenge was making room in her day for a trip to Fillydelphia, where the colt, Autumn Leaf (which had been her second guess after Golden Leaf), lived in a flat with his parents. She immediately set herself onto the task right after breakfast, and only by being quite adamant about it and even raising her voice a bit once or twice was she able to convince her chaperones to reshuffle her schedule and free her for the early afternoon.
After a brief but refreshing lunch, she shook off her flock of guards and flew east, keeping herself high up in the air, so that even sharp-eyed pegasi couldn't tell it was her. This was her duty, and she would do it alone, without anypony else involved. Besides, she enjoyed the bit of freedom. She could get all the solitude and time for reflection she desired in her private chambers, and since she was a Princess, none could really object to anything she opted to do, but feeling the wind in her mane, sky all around her, nothing to set her path but her own desire, that held something special, something she rarely had opportunity to indulge in. So she savoured the moment, enjoyed the flight.
As she approached Fillydelphia, she slowed down, descending, gliding the rest of the way. When she crossed the city perimeter, she placed a spell of inconspicuousness on herself. It wasn't quite as effective as true invisibility, but it helped her blend in. True, one or two especially observant ponies might notice her, but whoever heard of the Princess of the Night walking the streets of Fillydelphia in broad daylight? After only a few of minutes navigating street signs, she found the address she was looking for – 7 Sunflower Lane. She let herself in (who was going to stop her?) and, following her ears, found Autumn Leaf in his room. The colt had just come back from school and was in one of those energetic moods ponies, and foals particularly, get into when the days are long and the sun shines warm and bright.
Luna stepped up to him and asked him about his dreams last night. He was surprised at first, but she told him to relax, as she was only here to help, and soon he told her he recalled some nebulous but unpleasant dream ending with a sudden impression – a combination of strange imagery and a feeling of chill – that had woken him up an hour early and left him unable to get to bed again before it was time to start the day proper. She nodded, and explained the situation; that she had been hunting a dream demon preying on the fear of the sleeping, that it had sought refuge in his dreams, and that she had come to capture it. Autumn Leaf listened with wide eyes before enthusiastically offering his help, excited at the prospect of adventure. Luna smiled, and asked him to go to sleep, so she could enter his dream and combat the beast.
With help from the slightest touch of magic, the colt quickly fell asleep. Before entering his dream however, she took certain precautions. Again, she sealed off the surrounding dreamscape, but also, she placed a charm on the pony to put him into a deep and dreamless sleep. She intended to end this dreamcrawler here and now, and to keep the foal out of harm's way as well as to prevent the dreamcrawler from pulling the same tricks again, Autumn Leaf needed to be in a sleep so deep he wasn't aware of his dream and his dream wasn't aware of him. After everything was prepared, Luna entered the dream.
It was dark and quiet, as those of dreamerless sleep usually were, for they were without the vivid, burbly imagination of a pony to fill them, and resonated only in the most base ways with the pony they originated from. The dreamcrawler, shapeless at the moment, stuck out like a sore hoof in the peaceful environ. She gave chase, and it fled, releasing sudden frights and horrifying phantasms to stop her or awaken the dreamer, but to no avail. It took greater terror to frighten her, the Princess of Nightmares, and Autumn Leaf was out of reach from here. She pinned the creature down and prepared a curse that would banish it from any pony's dream now and forevermore. But to her aggravation and surprise, it writhed, squirmed—and managed to slip away. Angry, she turned to give chase, but it was already fading away, leaving the dream. Immediately, she checked the barrier around the dream, searching for a breach, but there was none.
After eliminating the impossible, only the inconceivable remained: the dreamcrawler hadn't merely left the dream, but the dreamscape itself. She didn't know what to make of that. Only one thing was certain now: no ordinary dreamcrawler would do that. It hadn't gone back where it came from – Luna had brought enough haunted souls to rest and fended off enough otherworldly foulness to tell the difference – but it had pierced through the outer layers of the dream and travelled not to the wider scape, but towards the real world on the path of the waking.
She wondered what that meant as she followed suit. The dreamcrawler had no body to return to, and the magic necessary for something from a dream to become substance was monstrous even for one as powerful as her. Luna opened her eyes, breathed in, looked around, surveyed the room, its postered walls, the bare ceiling, carpeted floor, brightly painted furniture, the nicknack strewn about, the foal lying on his sheets—and found nothing. She waited, watched, filling the entire room with her attention, but still found no sign of the wayward sprite.
She sighed, beginning to wonder how it had eluded her and silently chastising herself for her failure, when she suddenly felt something invisible rise up from the colt's sleeping form.
At once, she willed her magic into her eyes to let them see true, and lo! she caught a blur zipping through the air, making an attempt for the window. Light exploded from Luna's horn. Blue magic spread along the walls, across the floor and ceiling, forming a glowing skim on the room's interior. The blur (she couldn't see it clearly under its veil of obscurity that blocked both sight and sound) reached the window, then stopped at the magical layering, hesitated, sped back and forth along the barrier, found no gap, and finally came to a quivering halt in mid-air.
Slowly, Luna released her breath. The skein of magic that covered the room began moving inwards around the invisible something, trapping it in a shrinking energy bubble. As the bubble shrank back, letting everything pass except for the blur, she stepped forward to get a closer look at it. Now that it stood still, she realised it was quite small, only as big as a pony's head even with the most generous estimation of its uncertain contours. She let the sphere shrink until it was about the size of a bowling ball, then solidified it into a perfectly translucent ball of glass-like, crystallized magic. The thing she had trapped still left her without any kind of response to its imprisonment.
She reached inside with her magic, felt it squirm under her touch as she stripped away the magical veil that covered it. It looked—strange. The closest analogue she could imagine was if someone drew a diazocopy of some arachnid or cephalopod in light on a sheet of glass, and then pulled said drawing into the third dimension. She could see little more of it than luminescent contours and lines running through it; in its central body was a bright orb like an eye or somesuch, different extremities that seemed like wings, fins or webbed arms extended outwards from there. It also emitted a faint buzzing or whispering now that its sight and sound were no longer obscured.
Luna frowned. It seemed so small and frail for something that had caused her, the regent of the night, so much trouble. And still, she was none the wiser for all of it.
It jittered and twitched in her bubble, rolling over one side and tumbling, as if it had lost balance. She must have damaged the oddity somehow when she peeled away its skein of obscurity, because she found one of its webbed limbs fraying and decaying before her eyes. As soon as she looked closer, she found the glowing lines composing her capture unravelling at several ends. While she still pondered what to think of and what to do about it, something on its inside snapped and the central luminous orb expanded outwards, tearing apart the rapidly decomposing shell around it.
As the bluish light touched the inside of her forcefield and came in contact with her magic, she almost instantly recognised the familiar feel of dream magic—and not the unrefined, limited power of a dreamcrawler, no, it was pony magic, unicorn magic, like she used to affect the dreamscape. What that meant was obvious, yet her mind seemed to blank for the sheer surreality of it.
Luna blinked, shook her head, stared disbelievingly at the blob of dream magic trapped inside her magic bubble. Somepony had, using dream magic nopony but her had been privy to for a thousand years, created a half-sentient magical construct that could mimic the abilities of a dreamcrawler as well as traverse between the dreaming and the waking world. This was worrisome, even if the construct had been weak and unable to offer any resistance to her magic. Somepony out there was using secrets they should not know for malign purposes, though she didn't get what they hoped to achieve. A single of those constructs could never have any meaningful impact onto more than a couple of ponies, it had chosen its targets by adjacency in the dreamscape while she had been chasing it, so it hadn't been sent after anypony specific, and if it was merely a test run, they had just exposed their scheme to her. Who could possibly benefit from this?
Again, she shook her head, putting her questions and worries on hold for now. She would talk this through with Celestia, she decided. She was usually adamant on her subject's dreams being solely her responsibility, but this was a case of somepony abusing their talent for magic. It wasn't probably of that much significance, but Luna had a bad feeling about the affair.
She collapsed the bubble, making sure the unicorn magic inside discharged harmlessly, removed the charm keeping Autumn Leaf asleep and awoke the colt, thanking him for his help.
He expressed slight disappointment at not having witnessed her battle with the dreamcrawler, but was quickly placated by Luna's assurance it hadn't been all that spectacular. She was just about to say her goodbyes when her still finely-attuned mystical senses picked up a sudden disturbance that reached from the deepest layers of the dreamscape, through the very realm of the waking mind into the dimensions of space and time themselves.
She stopped in the middle of her sentence, the hairs on her neck suddenly standing on end. Turning her head towards the source of what must have been a tremendous shifting of magical power, she saw, through the room's small window, a spiralling, dark tower of cloud and lightning forming rapidly in the distance, sticking out sorely in the otherwise clear blue sky.
The colt followed her gaze, and his mouth formed into an almost perfect little circle. When the churning maelstrom of thundercloud grew denser and darker, flickering with flashes of lightning, he asked “Princess Luna, what is that?”
“Nothing good, I fear,” Luna answered, and as if in response, the sun fell from the sky.
Time seemed to slow down as the life-giving light sunk downwards towards the horizon at an unnatural speed, and Luna felt her heart sink with it. The bad feeling she had been carrying since discovering the dreamcrawler to be artifice grew manifold into an unnerving feeling of urgent dread, and as the sun dipped over the northern horizon, sending the world into a night darker than the new moon, Luna instinctively felt, nay, knew, that her sister was in trouble, that her sister needed her, needed her now.
She spread her wings, broke into a short gallop to gain some speed, pushed herself off the ground and took to the air.
At this point, it might be wise to mention that alicorns are remarkable creatures. Of course, that much is obvious since they possess both pegasus flight and unicorn magic. However, it is not quite as simple as one might believe. It is true that alicorns possess the magic of all three pony tribes, but the fact they have all these kinds of magic at once allows for some subtle interactions and mutual influences of these abilities. In particular, earth pony and pegasus magic interact quite strongly, which is not really surprising since both types of magic are mainly passive and influence the pony's physique. What makes this even more interesting is the clash of affinities; earth ponies are strongest with all four hooves on the ground, pegasi excel in the sky.
One result is the high strength and stamina resulting from earth pony magic extending to the alicorn's wings, giving them a greater wingpower and leaving them perfectly equipped for long distance flights at high speeds, well beyond the capabilities of most pegasi.
On the other hoof, they are more – sturdy, have greater momentum, so their higher wingpower does not come with increased agility and manoeuvrability. A swift pegasus can easily dodge and evade an alicorn – but not outlast or outrun them.
This also comes to bear when landing and taking off. Where a pegasus settles down lightly and flutters up into the blue gracefully, an alicorn impacts the ground with all the sturdiness of an earth pony and their wings can only get them airborne so fast. Of course, alicorns can also use that to their advantage. They can, in fact, take off and land faster than pegasi, slamming into the ground without slowing down first or literally jump-starting, courtesy of their far stronger legs. It is also not unheard of that an alicorn may quickly change direction by impacting an obstacle and then pushing off of it.
The two Royal Sisters, for example, who both are exceptionally magical, are, when properly motivated, capable of ludicrous take-off speeds and can propel themselves forward with such a momentum that even solid walls would have a hard time even slowing them down. Not to mention that, with enough adrenaline in their system, a collision with such a wall would only slightly inconvenience them. Such a physical condition renders, if need be, take-off inside a building unreasonably viable.
And that is how on one Summer afternoon, Princess Luna broke through the façade of a family home in Fillydelphia and soared up high into the black, star-dotted sky.
About an hour later, the owners of the house would tell this story to the royal messenger who had arrived from Ponyville to inform Her Royal Highness Princess Luna of the sudden disappearance of her co-princesses Celestia and Twilight. The pegasus messenger would then, quite downtrodden and slightly exhausted, return to Canterlot, only to be sent up north to the Crystal Empire with the task of informing Her Royal Highness Princess Cadance that the princesses Celestia, Twilight and Luna had all disappeared. The landlords, however, would later ask the crown for compensation for the damage to their property, and after a lot of rejections, notices of appeal, forms being misplaced, resubmissions, documents being filed, shredded, declared obsolete and forwarded in quick succession and variable order, all amounting to lots of general headache, the whole affair would finally land on the desk of the very head of the Equestrian Civil Service. Said pony, a generally quite disgruntled person, would reset his chain of office, have a sip of tea and do the necessary paperwork while silently complaining to an uncaring universe as to why those things always fell back on him; luckily, there was a special fund established exactly for such occurrences—bumps in the road of a Princess adjusting to modern society.
Luna pushed her wings against the air, using her momentum to quickly gain altitude. Taking up speed towards the pillar of storm, she found time to orient herself. The dark funnel of clouds was hanging over the Everfree Forest, about an hour of flight away.
There was no time to lose. The last time she hadn't been there when her sister needed her had resulted in a changeling invasion of Canterlot, and there was no way she'd let something like that happen again. She concentrated on the forest and the storm, and called upon her power. Brilliant cyan light rippled from her horn as her magic reached out for space to transport her faster than wings could carry her. But try as she might, her destination wavered and slipped from her focus time and time again. Teleporting into and out of the Everfree Forest was never easy due to its alien nature, but this was beyond anything she'd ever experienced. Whatever was inside the maelstrom's eye was causing a heavy distortion of the surrounding space. Blinking over there was difficult, and outright dangerous. Detaching herself from normalspace to get closer to a source of turbulence could well result in a belated re-emergence, this she knew from experience. No, teleportation was too risky if she didn't want to loose any time.
Her wings started beating harder. If an ordinary pegasus took one hour to fly from Fillydelphia to Ponyville, she, Princess Luna of the Night, would do so in one minute.
Wind rushed past her as she built up speed, but it lacked the liberating feeling she had felt during the flight towards Fillydelphia. Now that she was flying back, only anxiety, tension, a hint of dread remained in her heart. Whatever had caused her sister to give up control over the sun to something or someone else (for that was the only meaningful explanation for the sudden darkness) it could only mean bad things.
With a little more effort, she passed the sound barrier, and the pounding of the rushing air against her ears became deafening. Folding her ears back, she pushed herself further, faster, light condensing at the edges of her flight field.
When the second boom came, it came sudden, as it always did. The cone of condensing light that had formed around her collapsed unto itself, and the the air around her snapped, rushing past her faster than before. The shock, the sudden change of the flow rippled over her, through her mane, which seemed to smear, leaving behind a streak of star-dotted, moonlit night sky; a glittering cone of condensing magic left in her wake.
Before her, the pressure wave expanding around her speeding body formed into strands of darkness, curling around her, shrouding her in shadow.
The landscape beneath her became a blur. Hills and meadows, woods and streams, all streamed past her, painted grey by the darkness of this unnatural night. Before her, the churning funnel of clouds grew wide, shadow and light falling in odd angles over the swirls of the freakish storm.
Passing over the jagged expanse of Rambling Rock Ridge, she took note of the cloud-storm's position: it hung directly over the ruins of her old castle and home. She turned downwards, starting to slightly slow down and to descend. The castle was obscured by the raging gulf of heavy thunderclouds, but at the vortex's very foot, a fiery, unsteady glow pierced the blanket of cloud, which was almost opaque in the darkness. This is where she aimed herself. Were this any other night, and were this any other storm, Luna might have had more to go by, for she prided herself in seeing as well in moonlight as in daylight, but this was a darkness without moon, and the clouds were unnaturally low and thick, and so her eyes failed to penetrate the darkness.
She spread her wings, gliding downward at a sharp angle, feeling for her sister's familiar presence, when she became aware, first dimly, then suddenly, terribly unmistakeably, of six other presences. Brilliant white light shone through the clouds, burning the ruined palace's silhouette into her retinas. A shiver ran down her spine as she once again felt that massive wave of harmonious power build up, resonating with the six ponies she had come to love so dearly, and then release into an unstoppable force of harmony and light. Luna braced herself just in time before the resulting shockwave blew apart the storm and passed over her. However, although she had been prepared for the turbulence, what she saw still threw her off course.
From the source of the blazing light, a bright rainbow tore through the night, quickly engulfing a form that was only visible as a shadow against its brightness—the form of a tall and slender alicorn, the form of her sister, visible for a moment, then dwindling and melting away against the intensity of the rainbow's light.
“No,” Luna breathed, her blood freezing in her veins. This wasn't happening. They weren't banishing her sister, just like she had been. They couldn't be! She frantically beat her wings, trying to regain control over her course that had been lost in the first moment of shock, when the sun rose, blinding her, disorienting her more.
She blinked against the blinding light, but all she could see was her sister dissolving in the rainbow, over and over and over again. She tried to stabilize her flight, but her wings only moved sluggishly and unresponsive.
There was a burst and a second shockwave, and her sister's presence was gone. Luna tumbled, her eyes burning with light and tears, her muscles shaken by winds and shock. Disbelief flooded her mind. Something hit her left wing, and she went helter-skelter crashing into something else back-first. She heard something crack, but felt too numb to care. Tree branches whipped around her as she fell, hitting her wings, her legs, her back, her neck, her ears her muzzle, but she felt too numb to care. Her side slammed into the soft, muddy ground, but she felt too numb to care.
Celestia couldn't be gone.
In her chest was a numb, painful emptiness that drowned almost anything else out. She reached for her sister again, but found nothing but a sensation of wrongness from where she had been moments ago. Was it an actual sensation? Was it her senses rebelling against what had happened? She didn't know. She didn't care.
Celestia was gone. The Elements had banished her.
Luna sobbed against the ground, blinked against her tears, blinked against the image of Celestia dissolving in the light, again, again and again. It was a terrible truth she faced, one she could barely stand. She drew in a ragged breath, only to let it out again in a muffled, miserable cry. Luna cried, cried at the loss of her sister.
For all her long, long life, Celestia had been there, as reliable as the sun, the moon or the earth. Even as Nightmare Moon, imprisoned in her namesake, she had felt the touch of Celestia's magic every night, every day as she rose and set the moon that was not hers. And now, she was gone.
Her wonderful, perfect sister, gone. Always smiling, always kind Celestia, gone. When Luna closed her eyes, pressed them against the ground, tears draining into the earth, she could still see Celestia's smile. Her beloved sister had so many smiles, and she knew them all. Like the tired but relieved smile she'd show after a long but successful night of negotiations. Like the coy smile that appeared whenever Celestia indulged in her more mischievous side. Or the proud smile she so often shared with their subjects, whom she loved so much. Or the radiant, honest smile that was reserved for her beloved little sister...
The memories hurt. Yet Luna couldn't let them go. Weren't they all she had left of Celestia right now?
She thought back, far back, trying to recall the first time she had ever seen Celestia smile. After a while, the image came back to her. Why Celestia had smiled then was a mystery lost to time, but she had smiled for her, Luna, and that was the important part. She had been so small back then...
They had lost their parents soon afterwards. She had been too little to really understand what was going on, but she had cried nonetheless. Celestia had cried, too.
Luna lost herself in the memories of centuries gone by.
Luna felt utterly miserable. She'd stopped weeping some time ago, but so far she hadn't been able to bring herself to get back up. What was the point, anyway? So, she just laid there, in the dim of the Everfree Forest. The dense roof of treetops kept most of the sunlight from ever reaching the ground, and obscured the sky in turn. Maybe an hour or so had passed, it wasn't yet time for the moon to rise.
But what was the point, anyway? Without Celestia to bring forth a new dawn, a new day afterwards, Luna might as well bring night eternal when—if she ended this day. If her little ponies were to be robbed of their beloved Princess Celestia, they should at least keep their equally beloved day. They'd get on well enough without the night. They'd get on well enough without Luna. Surely, if they had lived on for an entire millennium without her, they didn't even need her.
Once again, feebly, in some last, fanciful hope she might be mistaken, she reached for where her sister's presence had been, but still found nothing, not even those who had banished her.
She let loose a sigh. So be it, then. Luna knew well enough that just lying here in self pity until the end of time was not actually an option. The cycle of night and day had to be maintained, no matter what, and her ponies may not have needed Luna, but they needed their Princess. Like Celestia had, she needed to stay strong, and maintain Harmony in Equestria until her sister would return. The Elements had banished and imprisoned before, but it had never been permanent.
Perhaps, a small, hopeful voice in the back of her head said, the Elements can undo what they have wrought. After all, Celestia hadn't been connected to the Elements any more, so they should still be bound to Twilight Sparkle and her friends. This, of course, brought Luna to the nagging question why they had used the Elements against Celestia. Maybe, and this thought seemed possibly even more terrible than losing her sister, there had been good reason, and Celestia had turned to some kind of madness just like she had.
She suddenly struggled to her hooves. Her joints ached and were slightly stiff, and one of her legs was numb and prickled, but she didn't pay that any heed. The thought, the uncertainty, the possibility that Celestia might have turned—turned evil was simply unbearable.
Keep calm, she had to remind herself. She breathed in deeply, then closed her eyes and slowly exhaled to calm herself. Letting go of all her pain, she let her face become an image of serene kindness, the visage of a princess. Keep calm, Luna, she thought, panic will not help here.
Concentrating, she reached for the location of the Castle of the Two Sisters, magic pulsing from her horn. The source of the disturbance was gone, it seemed, and space was no longer in flux. She pulled herself to the other side.
With a soft pop, Luna vanished. A few lumps of muck that had been stuck in her coat fell to the ground.
She reappeared in the foyer of the castle ruins. The roof had collapsed some time in the past, and the windows were shattered, yet the floor was oddly clean, free of the forest that had encroached on the castle. Something had happened here, this much was clear. Scorch marks like little black flowers stained the floor tiles and walls around the room's centre, where the stone was marked by two circles, one within the other. A faint tinge of ozone hung in the stale air.
Her gaze wandered through the room, and found the stone monument on which she and Celestia had placed the Elements when they weren't in use. It was but a crude effigy of the true Tree of Harmony. And if memory served her right, it had been standing at the room's centre the last time she had visited the castle. Ponderously, she grasped it in her magic and levitated it back to where she remembered it had stood. She wondered why somepony would have moved it at all. And moreover, why was it even here, in this room? If anything, it belonged into the Vestibule of Day and Night, where Celestia and Luna used to hold court together. There was a hidden compartment below the floor in which the statue was usually stored. She understood that Celestia must have removed the Elements from there to banish Nightmare Moon, but why move it so far?
She looked around the room again. This was where Celestia had been banished, she could feel it. There were still traces of the Elements' activation lingering in the atmosphere. Her wandering eyes fell on the open door leading deeper into the castle. Perhaps the Element Bearers had ventured further in?
Luna moved through the door and entered the grand Atrium. Quietly, she trotted forwards, ears swivelling left and right as she strained to pick up any sounds possibly caused by a pony. Nothing. She reached the long hallway's end, and looked back at the rows of doors leading away into the many chambers and corridors of the expansive castle ruin. Following a sudden intuition, Luna turned towards the closest flight of stairs and walked up. Passing another set of grandiose doors, she came into a large hall. At the opposite end stood two large thrones, each on an elevated platform.
A shiver ran down her spine. More than a thousand years had passed since she had been in this room. The sun was shining through a large hole in the far wall where there used to be a stained glass window. This was where she had turned into Nightmare Moon. She let her head hang low, and a sigh escaped her lips.
On the floor, two large slabs of stone had slid aside to reveal a small chamber below the floor. Luna shook the goosebumps off and stepped closer. She hadn't expected the small vault to be open. A round platform designed to lower the sculpture with the Elements into the usually hidden chamber filled most of the opening in the floor. Unlike the surrounding floor, it looked clean, polished even. The only explanation was that the chamber had remained closed until very recently.
On a whim, she stepped on it to get a closer look. Strangely, she didn't find the thin layer of dust one would expect to accumulate over time on a surface left in an enclosed space. Curiously, she reached for the vault doors and triggered the spell hidden within them. To her surprise, the thousand-year-old mechanism still seemed to work. Sure, it rattled and clanked a lot more than she thought it would, but the platform lowered gently enough.
Then, as the stone oblongs slid back together above her, she suddenly felt very silly and mayhap even a bit stupid. Luna blinked into the dark for a few confused seconds, her eyes adjusting quickly. She silently cursed herself. Just what had she been expecting to happen? Angry with her own carelessness, she fired up her horn to open up the chamber again, but before she could, the floor gave away – not by much, maybe half a hoof's breadth, but enough to make her flinch and break her concentration. Stunned, she looked down at the platform, which responded to her inquisitive gaze with a low, metallic creak.
Something seemed to shift gear, and with another thunk, Luna found herself on a rapid journey further down into the depths below.
Something seemed to shift gear, and with another thunk, Luna found herself on a rapid journey further down into the depths below.
The circular chute she was descending exactly fit the dimensions of the platform carrying her, walls blank save for several corrugated lines engraved along its length, possibly for some type of gear or other mechanical component to find purchase on. Looking up, she found the circle of the tube's opening shrinking quickly into the distance.
She stood there, wondering what this place was, and who had built it, and when. It couldn't have been there before she and Celestia had taken residence in Castle Everfree, for then it would have been discovered during the vault's construction. The real question was whether it had been built before or after Celestia had moved her court to Canterlot. If it was afterwards, it was a highly suspicious undertaking – a secret construction in a desolate and wild part of the world, no less in the ruins of what used to be the very navel of Equestria. If it was before, it was outright treason, literally undermining the Princesses' authority by creating unlawful access to their most valued and powerful treasure.
After what must have been about a dozen stories, the shaft abruptly expanded into a tall, round chamber. Three thick columns of stone suspended her descending platform and milky globes hanging from the walls provided mild light. Below her, Luna saw the six Bearers of Harmony, and with them Twilight Sparkle's dragon assistant, who was seldom far when these six grouped up. There were also two other ponies Luna hadn't met before. Above floated, chasing his own tail in dizzying, twisted spirals, Discord the draconequus.
The platform screeched and slowed, then settled into the ground, vanishing with an almost inaudible click. Princess Luna stepped forward. “What is the meaning of this?” she asked.
One of the two unfamiliar ponies, a unicorn, swiftly moved and bowed before her. The other lagged slightly behind and she noticed – before, she had mistaken it for a guard of some description – it to be not a pony, but in actuality an animated mannequin holding a set of armour which looked dreadfully familiar upon closer inspection.
But before her thoughts could stray too far, the unicorn recaptured her wandering attention. “Your Highness, it is quite an honour. If I may welcome you here at the Everfree Technologies Alpha Compound?” The name meant nothing to Luna. “I realize that it is in a simply pitiful condition, but Your Highness can rest assured that profound renovations are planned in the immediate future. For now, I can but apologize. I am Theory, holding an administrative office in this venture.” The unicorn was speaking fast, but respectfully. Nonetheless, Luna found her patience wearing thin. There was a time and place for decorum, but this was not it.
She pushed the kowtowing mare out of the way. “Excuse us, young lady, but we have not time for this,” she said haughtily. “We must consult with Twilight Sparkle.” Princess Twilight seemed to shrink under her stern gaze as she made towards her. Out of the corner of her eye, she half-consciously registered a flicker of almost-surprise running over the shunned unicorn's face. “Tell us, what is the meaning of my sister's banishment?”
Twilight swallowed, and looked down in shame. “I'm so sorry, princess. We really didn't mean to banish her like that.”
“But she was doing some crazy kind of magic, so we had to use the Elements,” Rainbow Dash exclaimed, zipping in front of Twilight, as if to shield her from Luna.
Fluttershy stood up next to Rainbow. “I thought the Elements would just turn her back to normal,” she explained. “I didn't want to send her away.” She looked up at Luna's face, only to shrink back instantly. “I'm sorry,” she whimpered.
Placing a comforting hoof on Fluttershy's shoulder, Rarity stepped forward as well. “It's alright, Fluttershy. I'm sure none of us expected that the Elements of Harmony would respond in such a drastic way.”
With an “Uh-huh” from Pinkie and an “Eeyup” from Applejack, the rest of the group joined up at Twilight's side, facing Luna.
“I'm afraid I don't understand,” Luna pleaded. She hadn't sincerely expected anything but this group of friends to stand together and defend their actions, but she just wanted to understand their reasons. “Please, what forced you to use the Elements against my sister?”
“Allow me to explain, Luna.” The unicorn she had dismissed before had appeared by Luna's side without a sound, and none of her former deference seemed to remain as she met the alicorn's gaze with a smile. Only now did Luna realize that if not buckling before her, this mare was almost tall enough to meet her eye to eye. “Your sister became aware of a dark power at work in Castle Everfree and set out to resolve the issue. She took those who wield the Elements with her to stand by in case something went awry. However, what she learned about the darkness that had taken hold here caused her to make a reckless move, and it infested the only place she could not drive it from: her own body. When our six young heroes here stepped forward, they believed the Elements would cleanse Celestia just like they cured you from your own darkness. They lacked the knowledge necessary to understand why the Elements of Harmony could not expel this particular entity from an alicorn body.” The light grey mare gave her a short, demure bow of the head as she continued. “That aside, I take full responsibility for the entire affair. All of this happened because of me.”
There was some crackling and popping from above as Discord materialised a bright blue bag of metal foil in his claw, withdrawing something yellowish, spicy and crunchy for him to munch on.
While Luna had expected and feared that some kind of corruption had overcome Celestia and forced the Elements' hooves, the peculiar choice of the message's wording as well as the messenger herself seemed strange to her. Sizing up the unicorn with renewed interest, she found only affirmation of her suspicions in what she saw. The mare before her bore the appearance of a pony, but her blank flank and puzzling demeanour told a different tale. The way she moved, the way she talked – something didn't seem quite right. “What are you?” Luna challenged her counterpart.
“I am Theory.” The mare gave a smile and a small flourish. “I am just a simple pony.”
Luna could not hold back a short, grim laugh at this outrageous claim. The more she looked, the more Luna could make out that occult spark of otherness that so distinctly set apart Theory from a pony – she couldn't really put her hoof on it, but it seemed to tie into the strange energy in Theory's gaze as well as the missing mark of destiny on her haunch. “You are no pony. Whatever manner of changeling or foul shapeshifter you are, you can't fool me!”
“She's a spirit, like Discord,” Twilight Sparkle provided.
Luna's brow furrowed as she sent a glance her way. It was a curious claim Twilight had made, and worrisome as well. Another Spirit of Chaos could indeed prove an incalculable risk, as just a single one had been enough to plunge all of Equestria into anarchy. Still, this certainly explained Discord's presence and interest.
Theory, meanwhile, pouted. “Well, I would like to be a pony. Say,” she started, quickly regaining a chipper tone, “how about we make that official? You, as a princess, accept me as your little pony and grant me amnesty for the sins of the past. I think it would only be fair after what I have done for you.”
The mannequin stepped forward, suit of armour glimmering in the dim light filling the hall. Luna drew in a sharp breath. Now, there was no mistaking the armour she herself had once worn—and she didn't even want to think about what seeing it again, here, might mean. She shied away, took a step back, murmured “I'm not sure I understand what you mean.”
In response, crimson energies lit up from nothing and coalesced into a yellowed scroll of paper. “According to this transcript of an oral contract originally offered and negotiated in the dreamscape and, as specified in said contract, agreed on by Princess Luna by creating an eclipse on the day of the Summer Sun Celebration in the 454th year of the Two Sisters' reign, the Order of the Watcher and by extension their associates and successors agree to aid Princess Luna by granting her the power to defeat and overthrow her sister, Princess Celestia. Aforementioned power is to be granted through the here visible magical artefact” – Theory's hoof indicated the mannequin – “which amplifies arcane ability and canalizes the power of nightmares into the world of the living. In return, Princess Luna, then known as Nightmare Moon, played her part in the Order's designs to bring about the desired circumstances for the creation of a specifically aligned Void Gate, as it occurred today.”
Theory looked up from the scroll. “In affirmation of this contract, said artefact is hereby returned to you, Princess Luna, after a brief period of dysfunction. While extended maintenance and customer support were not part of the original agreement, I would like to forward them as a sign of good will.” The paper rolled up again, and vanished to whence it had come.
Luna opened her mouth, closed it, staggered backwards, shaken, unable to speak. Never had she expected her desperate delve into the dark arts to fall back onto her again after being restored to good, and certainly not in such a way.
She of course remembered that in the months and years before her final transformation into Nightmare Moon and after Celestia's forceful rejection of her plea to prolong the night so that her subjects may learn to love it, when she had already been in a half-maddened state and made her decision to bring her sister down and instate a night without end, she had sought out arcane secrets and lost magics to gain a substantial advantage in her inevitable battle with her sister. As it had been (or so her ever-growing madness had her believe) impossible to leave the castle for a greater amount of time without arousing suspicion, she had taken to longer and longer ventures through dreams, calling up allies and potential aid from all the world to her in secrecy. But chief among them was one whom she had met during one of those lonely, melancholic nights, a shade in the dreamscape without correspondence in the physical world that eventually offered even remoter help than the other dark magics she had sought out. This shadow's promises had been the final keystone in the rise of Nightmare Moon, and when she had eclipsed the sun on that fateful longest day of the year after weeks of preparation and secret ritual, it had been the power offered by this creature that flowed through her when she transformed into that wicked mare of darkness. Truly, at the time, she hadn't seen it as a pact or trade between independent parties, but as a right she had long been denied, just as the adoration of her subjects.
She was the Princess of the Night, wasn't she? There had never before been any doubt in her that the evils she had summoned as Nightmare Moon had come to her in anything other than deference and respect. Wasn't all that fell under the shade and light of the Moon subject to her power? The thought that Nightmare Moon was not just a product of her own volition and most ill desires, but also of the manipulations of the dark forces she had called upon was unreal, and the prospect that the same forces that had stood behind Nightmare Moon still sought to lock her in their grasp was paralysing.
Shock mixed with resolve, fear mixed with anger. She would never let this darkness of her past reclaim her! The turmoil swelled in Luna, rising and bursting out like champagne from a newly opened bottle. “You, you turned me into Nightmare Moon!” It was as much confused, frightened question as it was raging, helpless accusation. She didn't know what to do.
Theory's answer came almost lazily, calm laced with indifference. “Well, if you retroactively attribute the Watcher's involvement to me and neglect the quite considerable possibility of you descending into madness unguided and unchecked, you surely could say I did do that.” She dismissively waved her hoof. “But right now, that does not really matter, does it? Still, Luna, you have a choice to make. Either you accept my proposal and accept me as one of your ponies and citizen of Equestria, or you do not. Whatever your decision, it was power that you bargained for and this power still belongs to you.” The armour of Nightmare Moon seemed to gleam brighter as Theory pointed at it once again. “Go ahead, take it.”
And before Luna's disbelieving eyes, the shining metal garb, the power of nightmares made matter, glimmered one last time and, as if to some unspoken command, dissolved into shadow. Streaks of darkness blacker than mere absence of light rolled off the armour stand, streamed across the floor, towards Princess Luna, approaching, encircling her. Fear encroached Luna's heart just as the dark encroached her body, a sight she recognised from a millennium ago. “No. Please, not again,” she pleaded, tried to back off, but the strands of shadow were closing in from all sides.
Black tendrils wrapped themselves around her form, pulling her not downwards, but up into the air. Luna thrashed and screamed, kicking her legs wildly, but to no avail, as she was literally fighting a shadow. Panic clouded her mind as the shadows rose around her to wrap around her head and engulf her completely, and desperately, she lashed out with everything she had against her incorporeal assailant. A bright lance of cyan light erupted from her spiralling horn, but it, too, passed the shadows unhindered, and struck the pony opposite her in the barrel. The blast sent the mare skidding across the room, and she hit the back wall with a wet crunch, slumping to the floor. A pool of dark red slowly spread around her now still, prone form, seeping from the long gash in her side.
Meanwhile, the web of shadow around Luna had coalesced into an opaque cocoon. An inner, hellish glow penetrated its surface as it condensed, swirled, the reddish glow swelling to a fiery quality before waning into darkness. Luna could feel the cold metal of the armour that had once again bonded its sinister powers to hers against her hide from the moment the black shell dissolved and gave her free. When her armour-clad hooves set gently back on the ground and the dark veil before her eyes cleared, she almost did not need to see the terrified expressions on the faces of Twilight and her friends, mouths hanging open in stupor, eyes widened in horror, a painful reminder of what she had again become. No, she could feel the change herself, the power ebbing and flowing between her and the nightmare realm, that strange bodily sensation of being able to give up corporeal shape, transform into mist, only to reform into almost any shape imaginable.
When she had first felt that way, those thousand years ago, she had been exhilarated; Nightmare Moon had revelled in the freedom this power lent and the feeling of superiority it granted her over Celestia. But now, after she had realised her own foolishness and cruelty and sworn to never repeat this grave mistake, feeling this accursed power once again was only terrifying and shameful. It was a scene from her nightmares, made infinitely worse by the fact that this wasn't a dream.
A small glance into their fearful, bright eyes was enough to send a jagged javelin of pain and shame into her heart, and she curled up on the floor, wrapping wings and hooves around herself in desperate attempt to shield herself from their gaze and, in turn, cover her own eyes from the fear she caused in others, a sight she couldn't bear. “Please, don't look at me!” she cried, barely repressed a sob. “I don't want you to see me like this again.”
She pressed herself against the cold floor, eyes closed, when she heard the soft clip-clop of hooves closing in. A warm hoof gently pulled her foreleg from covering her face, and laid itself comfortingly on her shoulder. Luna blinked, looking up into the young features of Twilight Sparkle. “It's alright, princess,” Twilight said, and smiled. “Look.” She pointed at Luna's hoof.
She stared at it, at the shimmering boot from unnatural metal protecting hoof and shin, and it took her a few seconds to realize that the coat that covered her leg was blue. A deep, royal blue, not a sleek, midnight black. She shook her head, confused; her eyes wandered along her leg, over chest, neck, barrel, wing—but what she found only matched the dark blue of her front leg. She had remained herself. This didn't make any sense. “I don't understand.” Luna shuddered. “Why haven't I turned back into Nightmare Moon?”
“The last time you put on that armour,” Twilight explained, “you were overwhelmed by bitterness and jealousy. That's what turned you into Nightmare Moon in the first place.” Her purple hoof reached out again, helping Luna up. “But now, you're not the same pony you were back then. You've learned from your mistakes and come to regret what you did as Nightmare Moon.” As Twilight continued, looking Luna firmly in the eye, her six friends closed the distance between them, moving up to join the princesses. “And you may be afraid to repeat those mistakes, but I promise that as long as you have friends to support you, it won't happen,” She pulled the Princess of the Night into a hug, where she was quickly joined by the other five ponies.
“Thank you, Twilight Sparkle.” Luna sighed. Twilight was right, of course. She felt stupid for slipping into hysteria, for letting fear cloud her judgement. It also felt odd that her friends seemed to trust her more than she herself did; but in a good way. “I acted foolish; I remembered what happened back then and I – I overreacted.” She gently pushed Twilight away from her, breaking the hug, and smiled down at her. “Celestia was right to believe in you.” She stepped forward, turned to Theory. “As for you, I don't know what trickery you were up to, but challenging me will be your final mistake.”
The unicorn hadn't moved an inch during their conversation. She was still lying on her left side in a sizeable puddle of her own blood, eyes closed, breathing shallow. As Luna addressed Theory, her right eye fluttered open; she grimaced. A fine strand of blood was dribbling down from the side of her quivering mouth as she drew in a slow, ragged breath. “Oh, go ahead and kill me already,” she groaned. That caught Luna off-balance. Theory's mouth contorted into a small, painful grin at the slight expression of shock that had snuck onto the princess' face. The other ponies, having been occupied with the princess before, had only now noticed her condition and joined Luna in various stages of shock and unease. Fluttershy had paled and was covering her mouth with both hooves, while Pinkie and Rarity looked slightly sick. Even Rainbow Dash seemed unnerved. “Look,” Theory chuckled, “I am not going to die of blood loss any time soon, so unless you have decided to be merciful, I suggest you already murder me and get that over with.”
Princess Luna was appalled. “Do you think us some kind of monster? Nay, we will not kill you. You shall rot in Tartarus, as befit your sort,” she said firmly.
“Have you not learned anything from your troubles with Discord?” Theory wheezed. She opened both eyes, fixated Luna intensely. “No prison can hold me forever, Luna. I have no intention to stay in Tartarus or even in stone for long, and once I am free, I might not be as inclined to act amicably. Next time, my response to an attack might not be as passive.” Luna wanted to say something, but found she couldn't. Theory's gaze seemed to hold her in place, to keep her from looking away. As the unicorn continued, every word seemed to impact like the beat of a hammer and Luna felt almost weightless, as if suspended in the sheer presence Theory emanated. This presence, this power was like a steady stream that washed over her, flowing from the light-draining abyss of the pupils that had captured her. “I have already submitted myself to your authority. Slay me, and I shall die and depart from this world. Imprison me, and I shall rise up again as the monster you cast me down as. It is your choice.” Theory closed her eyes.
For a short moment, the room seemed to sway. Luna felt as if she was falling from a great height and then suddenly coming to a stop, while in reality she was standing still. She stared at her hooves while the dizziness died down, taking deliberate breaths. There had been something weird about the sudden clarity and intensity behind Theory's words; it was like something had almost been shown to her, but only barely. She had almost seen, nay, felt a hole, an opening to somewhere unimaginable.
Despite Theory's apparent injury and vulnerability, Luna felt certain that this twisted imitation of a unicorn possessed a magic of the likes of Discord's, even if she hadn't shown much of it. Normally, Luna wouldn't have considered letting something so mindbogglingly dangerous roam free in Equestria, but the recent reformation of Discord had yielded surprisingly good results. While Theory had admitted to playing some part in the rise of Nightmare Moon, the brunt of the blame still lied with her, Luna, and even these crimes were smaller than the eternal torment Discord had inflicted. And wasn't all that Theory was asking for a second chance, just like Discord had been given?
Luna cleared her throat. “Seeing that you surrender yourself, we shall grant you the same lenience as Discord, provided that you adhere to the rules we put in place. Your transgressions will be overlooked and you will be allowed to live in Equestria freely as long as you place yourself under the care of Twilight Sparkle and her friends to be reformed. Should you, however, do ill, you will be punished accordingly.”
“Well, that is good enough for me,” Theory stated matter-of-factly.
As she turned her body to rise, the blood on the floor underwent a sudden change. It seemed to coagulate almost instantly, turning darker and very viscous. From the now almost black rivulets running down from the wound, the now rubber-like substance separated cleanly from floor and coat, turning into dozens of thin, curling, whipping tendrils, writhing and squirming, then slithering, retracting, crawling back into the wound like worms. Dislocated joints audibly popped back into place as Theory pushed herself up onto her hooves, and the needle-thin ends of the last of the rapidly disappearing tendrils curled and dug into the edges of the long gash in Theory's side, quickly closing it, sealing and stitching the cut within moments. A final shiver ran through her coat, and the last trace of the wound was gone.
With a smile, Theory, good as new, stepped forward and bowed to Princess Luna. “Thank you, Princess, for your generosity and kindness. Still, there is but another small boon I would ask of you, a trifle, really.” When Luna didn't interject, she continued. “You see, this entire complex down here is in a pitiful state, and there are still some loose ends left to tie up. I would just like the opportunity to clean up this whole mess first so I can fully concentrate on learning the magic of friendship. If you would allow it, I would just get the renovations going and put these things off my mind.” She motioned to indicate the dark openings of the doorways lining the room's perimeter, looking at Luna expectantly.
Luna considered this. She still had a lot to discuss with Twilight and the other Bearers of the Elements, both concerning her sister and this spirit that called herself Theory. Having Theory out of the way would certainly help with that. For a moment, she considered letting Discord watch over her, but he'd yet to explain his involvement in this. She didn't like it, but she'd have to leave Theory without supervision – and she didn't know how much she could trust her. Finally, she gave a slow nod. “Very well. You may leave, for now.”
“Splendid.” Theory gave a bow. “Should it find your approval, I will report back to you in Canterlot after sunset. By then, I will have concluded my business.” Upon Luna signalling her agreement with a second nod, she added “Wonderful. I has been a pleasure, Your Highnesses.” Then, with what almost amounted to a gleeful pirouette, she turned to leave. “See you all later, everypony!”
As the unicorn disappeared into one of the corridors leading deeper down, Princess Luna turned back to Twilight. “Twilight Sparkle, I believe you still owe me a full explanation.”
It took the better part of an hour for Luna to garner a coherent story from the six ponies, with some more or less helpful interjections from Discord. Theory was apparently not a Spirit of Chaos, but a Spirit of Insight – a distinction Discord seemed quite eager to make. This type of spirit, by Discord's word, was aligned to foresight, learning and perception rather than unpredictability, change and confusion (though Discord also listed boring and preachy among the failings of Insight as well as good-looking and fun-loving as merits of Chaos). She had apparently come into being just this afternoon, by means of a portal opened by the Elements of Harmony, the same portal that Celestia had been sent through. The reason why this happened seemed unclear; some of the ponies insisted they had been tricked, Discord blamed a fork weirdly named 'Morton', Twilight said it wouldn't have made a difference anyway. Some entity going by the moniker 'the Watcher' – either fragment or precursor of Theory's, which it was seemed uncertain – had orchestrated events since time immemorial to assure that the portal being opened was the only possible thing to happen; either through Spike, Celestia or the Elements of Harmony. Discord also seemed to suspect the Watcher had arranged for some type of nuclear force to act as a dead-pony's switch if events had unfolded in an unforeseen way.
The matter of Celestia remained similarly unresolved. All agreed she had been banished, none had intended for her to be, but whether the use of the Elements had been necessary, perhaps the only choice, or even a grave mistake couldn't be agreed upon. Rainbow Dash insisted they had been tricked. Celestia had told them to use the Elements if things went out of control, but then Celestia had been tricked into losing control in the first place. Fluttershy and Twilight were more inclined to seek the blame with themselves; they shouldn't have acted so rash, should've thought it through beforehand, should've remembered what happened when Celestia had banished Nightmare Moon, and so forth.
Even more inconclusive was the question what had become of Celestia. She had been banished through the portal, which had appeared as a black opening, that was all that seemed to be certain. Pinkie, shuddering, recalled an unspecified big nasty that somehow ate all fun sitting at the bottom of this pitch black pit, and Twilight hesitantly supplied that the portal might have led outside the world, into nothingness – whatever that might mean for Celestia. At last, Discord admitted that while he didn't know where she went, it was within his power to try and follow her. “I don't think trying will be much use,” he'd said. “If she's still real, she'll be locked outside by your oh so wonderful Elements, and if she's further out, I'll not be able to reach her. There's directions into which I cannot think, you know.” A bit more hopeful, he'd added “Though, given that you all still remember her, there might still be a way to find her.”
In the end, Discord had agreed to try and find Celestia – out there, in whatever bleak emptiness was even beyond the cold spaces between the stars. Before he left, he sent their little group out of the Everfree Forest and up into Canterlot Castle. The palace was, understandably, in a state of wild panic. The sudden fall and reappearance of the sun and the absence of all three princesses had left the governing bodies of Equestria headless in more than one sense. It would take Luna some time to get it all under control and running smoothly once again – without Celestia. For all their heroic qualities, this wasn't something Luna wanted to burden Twilight and her friends with.
“It seems to be farewell for now, Twilight Sparkle,” Luna said. “You should all go and rest whilst I get the affairs of the state in order.”
Twilight pulled her in for a final hug. “Are you sure you're going to be okay, princess?” She glanced at the shimmering helmet that still rested on Luna's head. “If you need anything, we're all willing to help.”
“Don't worry about me.” Luna smiled, she and Twilight separated. “You will all have enough on your hooves with reforming Theory.”
Spike, who had remained silent and listened for most of their conversation, opened his mouth, but only a crude belch escaped his lips, and a green wisp of smoke and fire curled upwards.
Twilight caught the scroll in the air. She and Luna shared a hopeful glance – had Celestia sent it? The paper uncurled and Twilight read aloud.
Twily,
Something bad is happening in the Empire. A unicorn I don't know trapped me and Cadance in our room; it's sealed with some kind of spell I can't get through. She's done something to the guards, they're not responding. She's also done something to Cadance. I'm not sure what, but I think she's in a state of shock right now.
Send help quick Shining Armor
The next glance they shared replaced hope with doubt and worry. Frowning, Twilight said “If that is what I think it is, you're definitely right with that last part.” She turned to her pony friends “Girls, Spike, we're going to the Crystal Empire!”
“I think it might be better if Spike stayed here in Canterlot with me,” Luna said. “That way, staying in contact with each other will be easier.” What she left unspoken was that after the day he'd been through, even if he couldn't seem to recall most of it, he'd more than earned his rest.
Twilight looked unsure. “Would that be okay with you, Spike?” she asked.
“Yeah, sure.” He scratched the back of his head, gave a small laugh. “Besides, given how I've seen Celestia spend her days, Luna's gonna need some help with all that paperwork, and who better to help her than your number one assistant!”
“Well, she better take good care of him, then.” Twilight chuckled.
They all shared a short laugh, and with a few last words of goodbye, the six bearers of the famed Elements of Harmony left for the train station.
"In many ways, old Sand Song was like a mother to me. She took me in when I was but a colt, and she taught me, as they say, everything I know. She was this subtle fusion of madness and brilliance that makes a true visionary. Me, I am a realist. I know that Princess Everfree is not alive, not dead, but still with us, and in my visions I can see the future she wants to guide us into, and while this future holds many regrettable events, I recognize the importance of the twilit princess – without her, our future is only chaos. This is why the Order is needed, this is why I will make this future I see come to pass. Sand Song held more esoteric views. She claimed that unlike mine, her much greater talent of prophecy was not entirely natural – that she had viewed, or been touched by some unseen great entity (not the Watcher, who she saw as merely her equal) that had or would once tangle time itself into a knot, maybe acting as a lens for her to see through. She never quite agreed with herself on the specifics of the being she called Nyug-Haggeb, which allowed her to see or mayhaps be seen, which maybe was or maybe will be. I have never viewed something like that – indeed she told me that Nyug-Haggeb is where my vision ends, for the greater seer may obscure the lesser one and in turn change what others see."
—From the Memoirs of Pillar Base, Third Listener to the Watcher, 308 before Nightmare Moon
[Equestria, Crystal Empire; 2nd of Bloom in the year 1004 after Nightmare Moon]
Flash Sentry was worried. Primarily, he was worried about the sky; the sun vanishing and reappearing in quick succession, moving stars, strange lights on the horizon – really, a pegasus wasn't ought to worry about the sky. But in fact, Flash Sentry had worried about the sky quite a few times recently. He had been worried when one day, it hadn't become morning, the moon had looked strangely blank and ponies whispered about the Mare in the Moon. He had been very worried when the sky had turned green, clouds had turned pink and rain had turned into chocolate milk. And he had been worried every single day during his stay in the arctic north when he had looked up at the grey, cold sky filled with wild, hostile, murderous weather. It just wasn't natural.
His secondary worry was, of course, the paperwork. When ponies thought of the life as a Royal Guard, they usually thought of either heroic deeds like fighting monsters or standing a long, boring watch without ever moving. Nopony ever thought of the paperwork. As Captain of the Crystal Guard, most of the work Flash Sentry did was paperwork. Any time anything glorious or even remotely interesting needed to be done, Prince Shining Armor would take the reins and he would be left on the sidelines. As a Captain, guard duty was something to be organized (implying paperwork), and law enforcement something to be documented (implying more paperwork) – in fact, the only times he had to actually leave his office was to discuss shifts with the guards, report to the Prince, or, on the odd occasion, be present for important official events.
Today, there had been a strange occurrence – the one that had him worried about the sky – which, of course, needed to be meticulously reported. That meant, of course, extra paperwork.
The Royal Couple had reacted to the whole event a lot more nonchalantly than him – sure, they had looked worried when the sun had vanished, but just as quickly they were convinced that everything had been put back to normal when the sun came back – certain that the newly crowned Princess Twilight had sorted things out. They had other things on their mind – some kind of anniversary – and retired early for the evening, leaving Flash to disperse the worries of the populace and, naturally, tend to the necessary paperwork.
Paperwork just wasn't for Flash. He was too scatterbrained and disorganized to do it efficiently, and he kept taking quite a bit longer than somepony more concentrated might have. For example, Flash had spent the last five minutes rummaging through his dustbin in search of a form he'd already filled out. It wasn't the first time he'd accidentally thrown something away that he actually still needed.
In truth, it was this absentmindedness that had brought him into this position in the first place. Originally, he had been a lower ranking officer in Canterlot, but a wandering mind, wandering hooves and work as a guard didn't mix well. Not paying attention to where he was and where other ponies were in relation to him had led to ponies bumping into him. Important ponies, the sort of ponies who expected everypony else to pay attention to and make way for them. Specifically, it had been Princess Luna. Multiple times. Long story short, he had been transferred to the arctic north—apparently simply suspending him had been too good for him.
Not that he would've minded it that much. He'd never really wanted to be a guard in the first place, but it was, to say the least, a tradition for members of the Sentry family to join the guard. When he'd gotten his cutie mark by saving a filly from a stray lightning bolt during a rare thunderstorm, his parents had seen it as a sign that guarding and saving ponies was his destiny. Flash, on the other hoof, believed that his destiny was being a weather pony – weather safety being his special talent.
In the end, he had caved, not wanting to disappoint mother, father and grandfather. It hadn't done him much good, though. While his family's connections had left him with a post as an officer despite his less-than-stellar aptitude, he couldn't concentrate on the ground – he needed to feel the wind under his wings to truly feel alive – and a wandering mind had led to carelessness had led to his current situation; in the frozen north, commanding the crystal guards, whose mindset was a thousand years backward, away from his home in Canterlot, away from his family, far away from his beloved special somepony (incidentally the same filly he'd saved from being struck by lightning).
As Flash Sentry fished the lost form out of the trash, staring at it bleary-eyed, lost in self-pity and entirely oblivious to how completely cliché his grievances were, the sound of somepony clearing their throat abruptly roused him from his musings. Peering around the dustbin on his desk, he found a unicorn mare standing in front of him, violet eyes under a dark grey mane and a pale horn boring down on him. Her mouth curled around something that seemed unable to decide whether it was a scowl or a smile.
“The Captain of the Crystal Guard, I presume?” she asked. “Cardboard Cutout, was it not?”
He pushed the bin to the side. “Flash Sentry, Miss,” he replied. “I only took up the post recently.”
“Whatever.” She gave a dismissive wave of the hoof. “Listen, we have got a princess-tier emergency as defined in the Third Lunar Amendment in the castle. By the Pony Mutant Quarantine Act, we have to evacuate immediately.”
“Uh, what?” he stammered. The words 'princess-tier emergency' in conjunction with 'in the castle' proved both worrying and distracting to him.
The Equestrian code of law floated up in front of his face. “The castle has been infiltrated by three entities falling under paragraphs 2a, 5 and 14b respectively.” Each paragraph briefly lit up. Flash only caught the snippets 'cosmic power', 'abhorrent, amorphous' and 'mutant with emotion-based magic' before the book snapped close. None of those sounded good in any way or shape. “We have to evacuate the castle and put it under lockdown to protect the populace.” The mare paused long enough to magically fetch an official form and a quill from his desk. “Here,” she said, placing the sheet in front of him and filling out a formally compliant quarantine order.
He could only stare as the quill danced over the paper, creating a legal document that would have taken him an hour to fill out both in record time and the most neat, orderly hoofwriting he had ever seen. By the time he had closed his mouth, the unicorn had made three copies. Quill and stamp were floating patiently before him; all the paperwork was waiting for was his signature and seal.
With a cursory glance and a shaking hoof, Flash signed the orders. Monsters in the castle! He shuddered at the mere thought. At least this mare seemed to know what to do. “Go alert your guards and get the staff out safely,” she instructed him. “I will inform her highness. Understood?”
Flash nodded, his throat felt dry. He swallowed. Get everyone out of the castle, he thought. Just pull yourself together and everything will be fine.
“Good,” the unicorn said. “Now hurry.” She snatched up one of the copies, spun around and briskly trotted out of his office.
He watched her leave, allowing himself a brief moment of reprieve, breathing deeply. Then he got up from his desk, grabbed the quarantine order with a wing and left as well.
Quiet and swift as a breeze, Theory trotted through the hallways of the Crystal Castle. Produced noise and velocity of a gait were dependent on the technique used, and with the right models, one could easily solve the minimization problem that yielded the parameters for a gait that was optimized in a certain way. It was trivial for Theory to work out in what ways her hooves needed to connect to stone and not make a sound, and she knew the rhythms that would allow her steps to reach farther and move her faster than classical models of her kinematics would indicate. She knew that equally, with the barest flex of her power, she could cause her destination and current position to fall together without the need to navigate the castle. But really, what need was there for immense power to change and warp reality itself to your liking when you had the knowledge to achieve your end through other, lesser means? Besides, as loathe as she was to admit, she understood walking far better than she understood herself, particularly the parts that came directly and solely from Beyond, such as the fragment of an elder and far greater power that empowered her. The better-understood tool took precedence from the lesser-known, and the simple solution from the arcane one.
Two Crystal Guards stood watch at the entrance of the Crystal Princess' personal quarters. As Theory approached, they stood straight, squared their shoulders in an attempt to look imposing. Adorable. They had roughly as much chance of stopping her as a blade of grass had of stopping a tornado.
“Halt!” the guard on the left commanded, stomping his hoof for emphasis. “These are the chambers of Her Royal Highness, the Crystal Princess. You cannot trespass here.”
“The Princess and her consort have already retired,” the other guard said in a more approachable tone. “If you would make an appoint—”
Theory presented them the quarantine order bearing their Captain's seal. “Captain Sentry sent me,” she explained with confidence and a serious look. “The castle is being evacuated due to a princess-level emergency. You need to join the rest of the Crystal Guard and bring everypony to safety. Meanwhile, I will inform the princess about the current situation.”
“But—” the left guard wanted to object, but Theory gave him no chance.
“There are several lethal threats inside the castle.” Theory moved closer as she spoke, looking the crystal stallion directly in the eye. “The lives of ponies are at stake if you do not hurry.”
The guard blinked nervously, shared a quick glance with his companion. Then, in silent accord, they galloped off to find their Captain. Without turning to spare them another look, Theory pushed the door open and entered the antechamber of the princess' rooms. A being who didn't describe things through their atomic composition might have used the word 'lavish' here, but there wasn't anyone there who would be impressed by the exquisite decorations and expensive furniture.
A few seconds later, Theory entered the bedroom of the royal couple. She closed the door behind her, then waited for the occupants to notice her. They didn't for more than half a minute, until Theory decided to make herself known audibly since simply glaring at the apparently distracted two ponies didn't seem to do the trick. She cleared her throat, an expression that didn't do justice to a sound that had more in common with a police siren than with the onomatopoeic word 'ahem'.
The effect was immediate. Shining Armor flinched so hard he tumbled from the bed onto the floor, while Princess Cadance jumped into the air like a startled pegasus, fell down again, bounced once on the mattress and then rolled off the bed to the other side.
Shining Armor quickly picked himself back up, face flush with a confused blend of outrage, embarrassment and physical exertion. “What in Tartarus is going on here?” he blurted at the intruder of his privacy. “Who are you? What are you doing in here?”
“That does not concern you.” Theory, who had been fixating the pink alicorn at the other end of the room, didn't as much as spare Shining Armor a sidelong glance. “I did not come here for you.”
She made to move around the bed, but Shining Armor quickly stepped in her way, blocking her path through the opulent chamber. “I am Prince Shining Armor,” he explained through gritted teeth, “and this is my bedroom. I think it does concern me what you're doing here.”
Theory met his glare with a cold stare of her own. “No one is interested in what you think, prince-consort Shining Armor. Now be a good colt and be quiet while the big girls talk.”
“Excuse me?!” the prince bellowed, his stamping hoof slightly muffled by the soft carpet. “Just who do you think you are?” He turned his head to the door and shouted “Guards!”
But when he turned his expression of anger and grim triumph back to the intruding pony, the eyes he found looking at him had changed. The two shimmering pools of darkness caught his gaze and held it, held his thoughts, held him paralysed, floating in nothingness. “Sit, and be silent.” The voice poured into his mind, thick like syrup, soft and light like a cloud, pushing everything else aside. He felt his legs give away, saw the eyes rise out of his field of view. He wanted to shake his head to clear the fuzziness that filled his brain, but his neck didn't obey him. He wanted to say something, anything, but his jaw worked in vain. No sound passed his lips as he sat there, only dimly aware of the unicorn now moving past him.
Theory smiled as she moved towards the princess. The alicorn was confused and afraid in equal measure, and would probably have tried to flee were she not backed against a wall both figuratively and literally. “Now that this is out of the way, I think we can concentrate on a little chat, can we not, Mi Amore Cadenza?”
Whatever Cadance might have wanted to respond, she found she couldn't. Her head was spinning and her vision blurred, everything but the advancing grey unicorn seemed to melt and fade before her eyes. Her breathing sounded unnaturally loud to her ears, and she could hear the thundering pumping of her heart, the blood rushing through her veins, drowning all other sounds. Only the voice of the unicorn pierced the noise of her own body. “Who are you, Mi Amore Cadenza?” the mare asked. “Why are you here?”
“W-What do you mean?” Cadance could just barely pick up the sound of her own voice beneath the frantic beating of her heart. “I'm the princess. I live here,” she explained almost desperately. Something about the situation was terribly disquieting to her. It was only barely possible to focus on anything but the unicorn without the noise of her own body obscuring her senses; it left her disoriented, frightened.
The other mare frowned. “Do not try to evade me with idle semantics. What is your destiny? What is your purpose in this world?” Something shifted, subtly but abruptly. Maybe Cadance had blinked, for the unicorn wasn't where she had been just a moment ago. And then she was right next to her, although Cadance didn't remember her moving there, peering down at her side. “I see. Your cutie mark—”
“It's a heart,” Cadance explained quickly. She felt uncomfortable having this strange pony so close to her. “It symbolizes my talent for spreading love—”
“It is an image of the Crystal Heart,” Theory interrupted her firmly. “The Crystal Heart protects the Crystal Empire. This mark predetermines your place as Crystal Princess.”
Princess Cadance couldn't really disagree with that. She had drawn the same conclusion a short time after Sombra's defeat. Still, it was wrong to just reduce her to her title when her cutie mark in fact meant so much more. “Yes, but—” she started.
“There is more to it,” Theory finished the sentence before Cadance could. “The mark that represents your destiny shows a tool, a weapon even, one that forwards the cause of the Empire and brings woe to those that oppose it.” Her eyes locked onto Cadance's, held her in place, staring into her very being. “A weapon powered by the very light and love you view as being your calling to spread. Your mark is love—” She interrupted herself, blinked. Immediately, Cadance's head cleared. For the first time since she had entered the room, the unicorn displayed something other than confidence. Theory took a step back, repeated in a whisper “Your mark is love...”
She stared at Cadance with wide unfocused eyes, head tilted, visibly puzzled, speaking in a low, fast voice, as if to herself. “They say that love is blind, do they not? They say one cannot love and be wise, and that all is fair in love and war. Your mark, the mark of the Crystal Princess, is love. But that means...” A wide, lopsided smile spread on her face, her eyes twinkled as she focused on Cadance again. “So that is what you are, Mi Amore Cadenza. I see who you are.” She raised her voice and her head, proclaimed “Then know that I am Theory, and I see farther than you can imagine! I will know love and not be blinded, and I will know it not through heart alone, but through mind and will as well.” Theory stepped closer again, gave Cadance a condescending smile. “You appear to be at a disadvantage, my dear. I know who you are, but you do not know that yourself.”
“I know who I am.” Cadance's throat felt like it was forcefully constricting. This mare was mad, obviously, rambling. “What you're saying makes no sense,” she said. Inside, she wasn't sure who it was she wanted to convince that what Theory had said was nothing meaningful. She looked for a way to escape, but her eyes wandered lost, involuntarily drifted back to Theory, as if there as nothing else there to hold her gaze.
Theory laughed, a beautiful, melodious sound. Cadance would have felt better had it been a deranged cackle. “A pitiful display, ” Theory commented. She smiled, and it almost seemed sympathetic. “I am afraid you are mediocre at best. An excuse for an alicorn.” Again, in the blink of an eye, Cadance lost track of her. Her voice stayed though, reaching Cadance without apparent source and direction. “Do you know what you should have been, Mi Amore Cadenza? A pegasus. A charming little light-hearted pegasus with a passion for music.”
Slowly, Cadance could make out a light. As if through a clearing fog, she saw the bright blue sky, above her, around her, dotted with pretty little clouds. She tried to move, to fly away, but her will couldn't find her limbs, her wings, her legs, amidst the tangle of veins running through her and the racket of her organs.
The voice returned, coming not from in front of her, not from behind her, just being there. “You would have been happy, too.”
There was a pony flying through the sky. Had she only noticed it now, or had it not been there before? She didn't know. The pink pegasus mare danced with the clouds, wind playing through tricoloured strands of mane and tail, violet, magenta and yellow. She almost, almost looked like Cadance when she had been a bit younger as she flew by, smiling, happily humming a cheerful tune mirrored in parts by the symbol on her flank.
“You would have known your parents, you might have found a lover, and all would have been fine.”
The pegasus turned back, flew towards the princess, landed before her. For a few long seconds, the two alternate selves looked into each other's eyes as the smaller pegasus slowly trotted closer to the larger alicorn. Then, a ripple of change washed over the pegasus. The sky darkened, the colours bled away, perspective shifted.
Theory took the final few steps and came to a stop face to face with the princess. “In short, ” she said, “you would have been Cadance.” She turned, started pacing. “But that is not what happened. You, Mi Amore Cadenza, were born an alicorn. You were adopted by Princess Celestia. You found a lover.” Theory stopped, laid a hoof on Shining Armor's shoulder, who sat there next to her, slouched, head hanging. “You had a marvellous marriage, 'treulich geführt, ziehet dahin' and all that kitsch.”
For a moment, Cadance was really there, back on the day of her wedding. She could see the aisle before her, the ponies crowding left and right. The memory was so strong, so intense, she thought she could hear the bridal chorus of the birds carrying her train, thought she could feel her rejoicing heart carrying her legs forward, where her eyes, almost tearing up, could see Shining Armor waiting for her so they could say their vows. It was overwhelming, it was wonderful, to be cast back, to relive these moments, to revisit with such clarity and awareness the day she had her perfect wedding, married her perfect stallion.
“Or did you?” The voice of the unicorn came unasked, cutting through the powerful impression of love and joy, separating her from the vision of the past. As Cadance became aware of the present again, the image grew still, gray and distant.
Briefly, everything seemed to pause, as if frozen in time. Then, like the memory of a nightmare breaking through the walls of denial, chaos erupted. The shock, the nauseating, tingling jolt of arcane disturbance shot through her horn as Shining’s great shield around Canterlot shattered. In some strange, confused manner she saw both the interior of the great hall and the streets outside, where the black forms of changelings, wreathed in emerald flames, rained down from the sky like comets and sowed destruction wherever they struck. Ponies galloped about in panic, and in her ears echoed the voice of the horrible changeling queen. “First we take Canterlot, and then all of Equestria!”
Her head spun, her heart filled with terror. Before her, Princess Celestia fell, her horn blackened. The queen of the changelings loomed over her, gnarled, black horn burning with bright green magic, her dark carapace, hole-riddled legs and ragged blue-green mane a stark contrast to Celestia’s white coat and resplendent radiance. Cadance’s beloved Shining Armor stood by sheepishly as the queen cast the Princess down, mesmerized by the changeling’s spells.
The queen’s head turned towards her, and she felt her knees grow soft. Cackling, the changeling made towards her, sneering “Well, princess? What do you have to say for yourself? After all, all of this happened because of you.” Halfway through the sentence, a ripple of change, a shudder of reality washed over the towering changeling, replacing her with Theory.
“No. I didn’t cause any of that.” Cadance was still shaking all over. Backing off didn’t seem to have any real effect, but she tried nonetheless. “I never wanted any of this.”
Was she dreaming? Was all of this just a nightmare? It was all as lucid and vivid as she could ever remember anything being, yet so bizarre she doubted its reality. The memories that had haunted her had been as vibrant as though she had been reliving them, but this limbo she shared with Theory was blurred and seemingly featureless – nothing but the unicorn was caught in her focus, try as she might, like this was some horrible dream were nothing else existed, nothing but the thundering of her heart and the unsteady roar of her breath. Theory was doing this, somehow, that was the logical explanation.
Yet as Cadance's thoughts began to stray, the unicorn spoke up, catching her wandering attention in her shimmering eyes. “You never wanted it? Do you honestly believe you have a say in who you are?” Theory shook her head, gave Cadance a brief sympathetic smile. “The changelings attacked Canterlot because you were a princess. It was your presence that enabled their invasion. Without you, they wouldn’t have found such an easy way in and wouldn’t have been able to launch their desperate attack. The fear of Luna and her ability to walk dreams would have driven them into hiding and away from Equestria.”
Cadance’s eyes lost track of Theory. She shuddered. Had it become colder, or was she just imagining things?
“In time,” Theory continued, “a city would have appeared – reappeared, even – in the frozen north. And the changelings would have remembered an ancient tale about a crystal city up north, overflowing with love. Unable to gather love in Equestria, they would have trekked to the Crystal Empire in hope of finding a place where they could feed.”
Something icy touched Cadance, and she almost jumped. It was a snowflake, and as she looked around, she saw more falling, more and more, until she stood inside an impenetrable storm of white. It had grown colder, she realized. The frost-bearing wind stabbed at her side, and the snow clung to her coat and mane.
Then, she saw a dark shape moving past her just a dozen steps away. She moved towards it, stumbling half-blind through the flurry of snow, and soon she saw more of them, all moving in the same direction, some huddling together for protection against the storm, trying to shield their faces with holey forelegs. They were changelings, and she was one of them, wandering through frost and ice in search of shelter. As with her pegasus self before, this was a vision of what could have been. She walked with them, and just as she thought she could see a light in the distance shining through the blizzard, Theory’s voice returned.
“But instead of a promised land, they would have found a death trap.”
The words were followed by a ghastly, unnatural howl coming from behind, causing Cadance's heart to freeze with fear. She turned, and saw a great shadow licking upwards like a tongue of black flame, a monstrous, billowing darkness. Most changelings turned tail and fled forwards, towards the light in the distance. A few brave ones stood their ground, curved horns lighting up with green fire.
Cadance fled with the bulk of the changelings, trying to reach the city, as the stragglers left behind were swallowed by the advancing cloud of shadows. They charged onwards through the storm, doing their best to ignore the irate howls from behind.
Finally, the city came into sight, and Cadance wasn’t all that surprised to find it protected by a shimmering pink, dome-shaped barrier. Some of the first few changelings crashed into the shield in an attempt to enter the city, the rest quickly slowed down as they realised that they were trapped outside.
A short moment of hesitation, then the darkness was already upon them. Red eyes lit up within the shadows, suffused in a malicious, purplish-greenish glow. A warped, curved horn sparked to life with sizzling, unholy energy. Pure, unfiltered hatred washed down unto Cadance and the changelings from the rising shade of King Sombra the Cruel.
She just stared up into those eyes, stared as the changelings around her fired green beams of energy that harmlessly passed through the shadows, stared as the fallen unicorn roared in rage and tendrils of dark magic whirled around them. She stared as changelings fell around her, sharp, grey crystals growing from the cracked, paled carapace of their shrivelled, lifeless husks, stared into those eyes that knew only hate.
She stared, and the eyes blinked, closed as Sombra’s and opened as Theory’s. “So,” the other mare said, “Twilight Sparkle’s quest to save the Crystal Empire would have been a little different. Parts of the changeling vanguard trapped inside the city, mayhap even the queen herself, would have pleaded to her for help. At first, events would have unravelled much like they did; up to the point when Twilight found the Crystal Heart. Sombra, who would have been preoccupied with the changelings and less focused on forcing his way into the city, would still have remained locked outside by then. Then, Twilight would have discovered her actual task: Help the crystal ponies and the changelings accept each other before either Sombra breaks through or the Crystal Fair reaches its conclusion, for without the bonds of friendship protecting them, the Crystal Heart would have destroyed the changelings just as Sombra. Naturally, she would have succeeded; accomplishing the impossible is like a second nature to Twilight.” Theory’s mouth curled into a wry smile as she slowly circled Cadance, always keeping her eyes firmly on the alicorn. “All would have been well. Sombra would have been vanquished, the changelings would have found their paradise in the freely given, abundant love of the crystal ponies; as well as friendship. It would have been a wonderful symbiosis, perfect harmony.” Theory stopped, her eyes bored into the princess’. “None of that happened, and just because of you, Mi Amore Cadenza. Instead of allies and friends who have overcome their parasitic nature, changelings are feared and hated, enemies of the ponies of Equestria. Just because of you.”
Cadance shook her head. It sounded so terrible. This didn’t make sense. This couldn’t be true. “But—but the changelings are horrible!” she stammered. “They steal love. Their queen is a heartless, evil monster, and they’d never have become friends with the crystal ponies.”
“Yes,” Theory sighed, rolled her eyes, “changelings are vicious creatures, and they would have been vicious without you, there is no denying that, is there?” Her expression grew serious again. “You are not the cause of their negative qualities, no. However,” – she raised her hoof – “you are the reason they never got a chance of betterment. You allowed them to become hated, and prevented their redemption.”
“No,” Cadance whispered. It just didn’t make sense. It weren’t even accusations. Even if it all were true, it wouldn’t make it her fault. Then why did the thought it could be true feel so horrible?
“For all the love you claim to spread,” Theory droned on, “I cannot help but notice all the hatred and pain you have caused.”
Was that it? Was that her cutie mark? A heart of crystal, radiant with light and love – a heart of stone, hard and cold. “Shut up!” she shouted. A beacon of hope – a weapon of destruction. “It’s not true!” she sobbed. She’d never wished for any of this. Why couldn’t she tell? Why couldn’t she tell if it was true? Had she destroyed the chance of happiness the changelings had had, or had she saved Equestria from them? Was her mark a symbol of love and unity, or a depiction of a magical weapon?
“No? Not true?” Theory echoed her. The unicorn chuckled. “What is with the denial, Mi Amore Cadenza? Really, you are exemplary of all the workings of Harmony in Equestria.”
And then, Shining Armor was there, charging between them. Eyes fierce, strong legs quivering, teeth clenched, he growled “She. Said. Shut! Up!”
He ignited his horn and barrelled into Theory, but the mare moved quick and light like a feather, backed off, and his charge trailed off into nowhere.
Yet, as Theory’s eyes flicked away from her for a moment, Cadance found, like it had always been there and she just hadn’t noticed it, the world around her returning, the Royal bedroom, the nightstand, the soft carpet she had curled up on, her stallion standing between her and the grinning mare, protecting her.
“And here we have your greatest strength and greatest weakness;” Theory declared with sparkling eyes, “the bond of love you two share. Really, I may not know much about love, but even I recognise the significance of your correlation. How else would your dear husband have overcome my hypnotic command if not for the power of his love?”
A translucent wall of force sprung up between the couple and Theory, Shining’s signature spell. Without heed of the mare’s words, he shouted “Stay away from Cadance! I don’t know what you’ve done to her, but you’ll stay away from her!”
Shining Armor was furious. He didn’t know how, he didn’t know why, but this mare had hurt his wife – Cadance was crying, and all that mattered was that he had to protect her.
Never ceasing her smile, Theory cast her eyes onto Shining Armor, who was far too blinded with rage to notice the shimmer of inverted light and impossible colour that filled them, or even the way their gaze brushed against the inside of his soul.
“Oh, the noble Shining Armor, whose destiny it is to protect those stronger than him from those he is powerless against,” she chirped in wry falsetto. As she continued, her tone vibrated between amusement and pity. “Tell me, prince-consort, how can you protect your little sister when her magic outmatches yours by far? How can you protect your wife when she is stronger than you? How can you protect your rulers when anything that is a threat to them is beyond your ability to stop?” She gave her head a sad little shake and stepped right up to the magical barrier. “You are a tragic figure, Shining Armor, a small knight in a world of dragons. It would be funny if it were not so sad. But do not worry behind your silly little shield, I will not harm you.” She took a step back, smiled, her horn wreathed in crimson fire. “No, having you around will be far too interesting for that.”
She giggled and spun around on the spot, once, twice. Each pirouette left a circular band of red flames hanging around her, tongues of fire forming into shifting symbols.
Theory came to a stop facing the door, and a flick of the horn sent the rings of fire spiralling through the room and flat onto the door, one within the other. Here, the circles expanded until the outer one nearly reached, now about five feet across, the floor, the inner ring being not much smaller. As the arcane circles began turning, one clockwise, the other anticlockwise, the area of the door inside the smaller ring began to shimmer and shift, as if viewed through a sheet of very hot air.
With a light-hearted skip, Theory closed the distance and pranced into the rippling surface of the door as if it offered as much resistance as a veil of fog.
As soon as she had passed, the smaller of the fiery bands began to contract, collapsed into a red-glowing dot before pulsing outwards. A soft wave of magic washed over the door, propagated over walls, floor and ceiling before crashing into itself at the opposite end of the room. The layer of magic shimmered and faded, the remaining outer runic ring flared, rotating faster and faster until it became a solid, flat red band on the door. Across the red circle, written in equally red lettering, emerged the Equestrian word ‘Stop’.
Shining Armor kept glaring at the door until he was certain the unicorn wasn’t coming back. He lowered his shield with an angry snort, unsure whether to count this as a victory – the mare had left, sure, but did that mean he had scared her off?
He telekinetically reached for the door handle, only to find it elusive, slipping from his magical grasp like an overly wet piece of soap, leaving him without leverage to actually turn the handle. Attempting to use his hoof or mouth proved equally fruitless, only yielding a slight tingle on his tongue. Finding himself unable to open the door, he stepped back and tentatively fired a short blast of magic against it, but that, too, dispersed uselessly.
He turned to Cadance and found her still huddled on the floor, face buried in her hooves. Quietly cursing himself for his negligence, he rushed over to her side, laying down next to her and placing a comforting foreleg around her shoulders. “Cadance, are you okay?” he asked.
She looked up at him with teary, reddened eyes. “Is—is she gone?” Cadance whispered.
Shining nodded. “Yeah. She sealed us in, too, and I don’t think I can get past that spell. Calling for the guards is probably useless after they didn’t come earlier. I guess she must’ve done something to them, too.”
Cadance simply stared down at the carpet, resting her head on her crossed legs, her eyes distant. “Shiny?” she asked, her voice slightly muffled by her own soft coat.
“Yes, love?”
“Am I” – she hesitated for a moment – “a bad pony?”
He blinked, slightly startled at her words. “Of course not.” He frowned. “Why would you even suggest something like that?”
“But the changelings...” Cadance began, trailed off, then started anew. “When they attacked—”
He held her hooves with his, interrupting her unsteady flow of words. “There’s nothing you could have done, okay?” Shining said. “The changeling queen overpowered you and locked you away. You have done nothing wrong, in fact, you were the one who defeated them in the end.”
“But that’s just it!” she exclaimed. “They need love to survive. I’m supposed to be the princess of love, and I sent them away. I sent them to the badlands, the most barren, loveless place imaginable.”
“It wasn’t like that, and you know it,” he said sternly. “They were invading your home. You were just acting in self-defence, and if anything, I’m as much to blame as you are. Besides,” he added jokingly, “all’s fair in love and war, right? In that case, it was both.”
Instead of laughing at his little joke, Cadance just paled, and she turned away from him, again staring down at the carpet, a haunted look on her face, her lips slightly quivering.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Shining Armor asked in a voice of concern.
She didn’t reply for a moment. Finally, she began whispering, growing more and more agitated as she went on. “But what about Sombra? I killed him, Shiny. I never looked at it that way, but when you think about it, I killed him.” She looked up at him, tears now streaming down her beautiful face. “Shiny, I killed a pony,” she sobbed. “How can I not be a bad pony?”
He reached around her and pulled her up into a hug, held her tight, saying “shh” in a soothing voice. Softly stroking her back, he let her tears seep into his coat, repeated the soothing sound until the crying stopped. “Look, Cadance, Sombra was a monster. He wanted to kill us all, or worse,” he told her. “You and Spike did something admirable. You brought back light and hope to the crystal ponies. And if someone is so sick and twisted, so evil that something that inspires love and hope in everypony else is harmful to them, I think it’s better for them to not live.” Almost as an afterthought, he added “You didn’t want to kill him, did you?”
“No,” Cadance said quietly.
“Then you’re not a murderer,” he said with conviction. “Is that clear?”
She nodded, then let her head sink and lean against his chest. They sat together in tight embrace for a little while. Cadance had closed her eyes and listened to the calming sound of her husband’s steady heartbeat. It was good to have him here, with her, supporting her. At last, when her tears had dried up and breathing had slowed, she said “Thank you.”
“I’ll always be there to protect you, Cadance,” Shining Armor replied. “Always. Even if it’s from yourself.”
"Dig faster, my slaves! The Well must be unearthed."
—King Sombra the Cruel, 313 before Nightmare Moon
Twilight and her friends barely spoke on the train; given a moment to rest, their minds swiftly wandered, mulling over certain thoughts imparted by the recent events, certain things that were slowly sinking in. There was a lot to come to terms with – the fact they had banished Princess Celestia, the machinations of the Order of the Watcher, the strange exchange between Luna and Theory, and, perhaps most disturbingly, the otherworldly abyss that had opened up before them and extinguished the flames of their consciousnesses in its preternatural darkness.
Rainbow was fidgeting in her seat, Rarity stared out of the window and Pinkie Pie raided the on-board snack cart. Twilight tried to keep herself busy, pacing the compartment and pestering the conductor. Applejack and Fluttershy sat quietly side by side, watching Twilight fuss and Pinkie eat, occasionally exchanging glances with Rainbow Dash, Rarity, or each other.
Eventually, they all followed Pinkie’s lead and had something or other in the way of food. It was almost dinner-time, after all, and the sun stood low.
Yet despite the almost glum atmosphere of their journey, it passed relatively fast, and soon enough, the train arrived in the Crystal Empire and the six ponies alit.
The evening sun reflected in the shimmering surfaces of buildings and streets, bathing the shining city in a beautiful sheen of glittering orange lights as they trotted briskly towards the Crystal Castle. From the main street, they could already see some sort of commotion at the foot of the mighty spire that loomed from the city centre.
As they got closer, they recognized a ring of Crystal Guards surrounding the base of the castle, facing outward, with a few smaller crowds of civilians flocking loosely to the perimeter the guard had set up, talking amidst each other, occasionally sending worried glances at either the guards or up at the shining castle itself.
Scanning the scene as she closed in on the castle, Twilight found a few guards standing out from the rest – not being crystal ponies, as well as wearing the armour of Equestria’s Royal Guard. In particular, there was one pegasus standing alone inside their circle, a clipboard in hoof, apparently giving orders to a few other guards who had broken out of formation. There was no sign of her brother, though. The fact that he wasn’t here, commanding the guards, probably meant that he was still stuck in his room as he had mentioned in his letter.
They reached the line of guardsponies blocking the entrance to the castle. As Twilight still assessed the situation, Rarity approached one of the Crystal Guards.
“Excuse me, sir,” she said, “would you be so kind to tell us what is going on here?”
The stallion gave her the stoic stare guards everywhere in Equestria were trained in. “There’s a dangerous monster in the castle, so we’re placing it under lockdown,” he explained. “For their own safety, nopony can go in till the princess gives the all-clear.”
“Oh, goodness,” Rarity responded, a worried look on her face.
“A m-monster?” Fluttershy squeaked, semi-successfully trying to hide her entire body behind the locks of her mane.
“Under lockdown?” Rainbow Dash repeated. “But we need to go in there!”
Applejack tapped her chin with a hoof and frowned, “Say, Twilight,” she said, “didn’t your brother write that he and Cadance were trapped somehow? If that’s so, how come all these here ponies are waiting for them to sort things out?”
Applejack was right, Twilight thought. Why would the guards be waiting for Cadance to lift lockdown when she was locked in a room inside the castle? “Do you know who placed the castle under lockdown, sir?” Twilight asked the guard.
“That would be Captain Flash Sentry, Your Highness. He’s right over there.” The stallion pointed towards the pegasus, who was now scribbling something on the clipboard while the guards he had been talking to seemed to be leaving. “Should I call him over for you?”
“Yes, please.” Twilight nodded.
“Captain!” the Crystal Guard shouted over his shoulder. “Princess Twilight is here. She wants a word with you.”
The pegasus officer cantered over to the group with the stressed look of somepony faced with a challenge they think way above their ability to master. One wing held clipboard and quill close to his side, the other was folded, but shifted nervously in place as the stallion approached. “How can I help you, Princess…?” he asked, directed his nervous gaze at the purple alicorn.
“Princess Twilight Sparkle, Captain,” the Crystal Guardspony explained. “She was the one who found out where Sombra had hidden the Crystal Heart and helped Spike the Saviour save us all.”
“Er, yes.” Captain Sentry sent Twilight an embarrassed grin. “Your Highness?”
“I’d like to know what the trouble with the castle is.” Twilight motioned in the direction of the lower-ranking guard. “From what the good sir here told us, there’s some sort of monster?”
“Yes.” The pegasus nodded. “Three monsters, Your Highness, to be precise,” he added. His wing extended, bringing up the clipboard to his eyes, and he flipped through his notes. “There’s a, and I quote the official classification according to the, uh, Third Lunar Amendment, trans-material entity of cosmic power, an amorphous, abhorrent beast from the Outer Spheres and a pony mutant with emotion-based magic.”
The Third Lunar Amendment, Twilight remembered from her studies, contained extensive emergency protocols for just about any implausible and impossible threat imaginable, from virulent zompony outbreaks to lizard alicorns wearing party hats, to the point where some contemporaries had described it as the ‘Paranoid Luna Act’. Ironically, one of the few times it had been invoked had been when one of its protocols had helped Celestia maintain public order after banishing Nightmare Moon. It being applied in three different paragraphs at once seemed downright ridiculous.
“I don’t suppose you could describe these monsters in any more detail?” she asked, and at the Captain’s reaction added, “You haven’t actually seen them, have you?”
“Well, no.” He scratched the back of his neck, accidentally dropping his quill. “You see, Your Highness, certain threats are simply above the abilities of ordinary guardsponies, which is why the princesses and whatever specialists they choose to bring in deal with those.”
Twilight’s suspicions were deepening. Something about this monster business was fishy. “Could you point me to anypony who has seen them or might otherwise know more?”
“The pony who alerted me might know more,” Captain Sentry mumbled through the quill he had just picked up again. He hastily stuck it to the clipboard. “I didn’t catch her name, though, and I haven’t seen her since she went to inform the princess. Then there are a few guards who heard some strange noises on one of the upper floors, but they didn’t really see anything. I haven’t yet had time to talk to the staff, so I don’t know whether one of them has seen anything.”
It clicked in Twilight’s head as the next piece of the puzzle snapped into place. With only a few pieces still missing, she could now almost guess their shape. “This mare who told you about the monsters,” she asked slowly, “did she also have you cordon off the palace?”
“Yeah,” the Captain confirmed, “she even helped me with the quarantine forms and everything.”
A glance aside to her friends told Twilight that yes, they were all thinking what she was thinking. So this was Theory’s doing after all. “That mare – she wasn’t a unicorn, perchance?”
“About this tall?” Rainbow Dash added, her hoof hovering just a bit above the tip of Twilight’s horn.
“Was her coat a shade of light grey with just a hint of phthalo blue that would look positively delightful in a nice purple, or a light fuchsia – or maybe cerise?” Rarity mused.
“And she didn’t have a belly button!” Pinkie exclaimed.
Flash, whose affirmative nods had been getting less enthusiastic with every interjection, let out an uncertain “Uh...” at Pinkie’s suggestion, stopped nodding and settled for just looking confused and helpless once again.
Twilight rolled her eyes. Unlike him, she was used to Pinkie Pie being Pinkie Pie. “Never mind that,” she told the Captain. “We need to get into the castle, now.”
Flash Sentry shifted uncomfortably in place, ears pressed flat against his helmet. “You know I can’t let you do that. For your own safety.”
Rainbow Dash let out a groan, and Twilight couldn't suppress a sigh – internally, she just wanted to scream in frustration. This conversation was going in circles, and her brother and sister-in-law were still trapped in the castle.
“Look,” Applejack said, stepping forward and looking the guard captain square in the eye. “You do remember she’s a princess, right?”
She was rewarded with an expression of pure incomprehension and persistent bewilderment from Flash, his eyes widened and his mouth hanging open. “Right,” he repeated slowly.
Applejack reached up to readjust her hat and gave him an encouraging smile. “I’m sure you’ll want to resolve this here situation as quick as can do. If you’re waiting on one princess handling them critters, I reckon two will get the job done twice as fast.”
The captain’s tail swished from left to right, his eyes flicked from Twilight to Applejack, then back, and forth again.
Twilight had enough. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, opened up her wings, and held her head as high as she could. Then, in her best impression of Celestia’s ‘stern’ voice, she said “Captain, I order you to step aside. If ponies’ lives are at risk here, I don’t have time for arguments.”
Apparently, her impression had been good enough, as it only took Flash a second to comply. Stepping out of the way and saluting her, the pegasus seemed more relieved than anything else. Keeping her head up, Twilight walked past him, her friends in tow.
She managed to keep the regal poise until they had passed the castle doors, then her shoulders dropped and she released her breath with a deep sigh.
“That was awesome!” Rainbow cheered, grinning from ear to ear. “The way you went all princess-like on him back there – that was pretty cool, Twilight.”
“It’s just so strange, bossing ponies around like that.” Twilight stared down at her hooves and sighed again.
“You are a princess now, darling, there’s no way around it,” Rarity told her with a comforting smile. “Heavens know it can’t be easy for you, but I think I speak for all of us when I say you’re doing a fantastic job of it.”
“And if you ever think it’s too much for you,” Fluttershy added softly, “we’ll be there for you and support you.”
“Ahem,” Applejack cleared her throat, interrupting the heartfelt moment. “Now I don’t want to be insensitive, Twilight, but it might be best to sort that out later, and just get going. This whole lockdown business don’t sit right with me, and we really ought to make sure Cadence and your brother are okay.”
The dirty look Rarity sent Applejack told her in no unclear terms just how insensitive she was being right now, and she would have added some sharp words had Twilight not interjected ere she had a chance.
“You’re right, Applejack.” Twilight sighed again. “I’ll have plenty of time getting used to being a princess when we’ve sorted out this monster problem.” She started moving up a flight of stairs, and her friends followed.
Rainbow Dash felt uneasy. The group was moving too slow for her tastes, but flying ahead was right out of the question. “So are we all on the same page that Theory’s the one who got the guards all worked up?” she asked instead.
“Most definitely.” Rarity snorted and gave her curled mane a flick. “Honestly, I’d be surprised if those laws that poor confused captain cited were real. Half of those words sounded either completely made-up or straight from a cheap novel.”
“They are real,” Twilight commented, absent-minded. “Luna introduced them more than a thousand years ago, but they’ve never seen much use. Apart from stuff like Discord or Nightmare Moon, there aren’t actually many things they apply to. Well,” she added as an afterthought, “not many real things, anyway.”
“Do you think there are actually any monsters in here? Or did Theory just make those up to get the guards out of the way?” Rainbow asked as they left the stairs behind and took the corner into one of the Crystal Castle’s many corridors. “’Cause that’s what I would do if I was a villain.”
“I think it’s pretty unlikely that there just happen to be monsters in the Crystal Empire,” Twilight said. “So unless she somehow brought some monsters with her, it seems safe to say that there aren’t any.”
Pinkie gave Twilight a thoughtful look. “More or less unlikely than the other things that happened to us today?” she asked slowly. Twilight didn’t have an answer to that. It had been a very unlikely day so far.
As they briefly paused at an intersection to orient themself, Applejack once again broke the silence. “What I don’t get is why Theory’d do all this after she went through all that trouble convincing Luna. There’s gotta be something we’re missing.”
Twilight looked at her curiously, but Applejack didn’t continue, instead simply looking thoughtful as she kept walking forward.
“I’m afraid we don’t quite follow, Applejack,” Rarity put her friends’ desire for elaboration into words.
Applejack pushed her hat back and drew a circle in the air with a forehoof. “We’ve been doing all this talking about the past and why things went the way they did, but we never thought to ask what Theory wants here with us. If she’s fine with being reformed, what’s she doing in the Crystal Empire? I guess what I wanna say is without knowing why she’s doing it, it’s hard to judge what she’s doing here.”
“Either way,” Twilight said firmly, “she has a few things to answer for.” The question of Theory’s motives made her think back to the letter she had gotten this afternoon via the Marked Box – but that hadn’t really been from Theory, or had it? Still, that was a question for later. “We’re here.” She stopped in front of the richly decorated, two-leafed door to the Royal Suite.
At a wave of her horn, the door opened into a fancy parlour full of comfy-looking couches and antique coffee tables, where the Royal Family might normally receive visitors in a less highly-formal manner than in the throne room.
As the six ponies entered the room, they felt a certain air of mayhap portent hanging about the chambers, the kind of booming silence that also resides in certain tombs and cathedrals, where the din of the dead reminds the living that they are the minority, the exception and not the rule. Needless to say, they moved on silently through the parlour, passed polished hardwood, lace doilies, and fresh floral sprays, and pressed on into the corridor leading to the rooms beyond.
Here, Twilight paused. She knew where in the palace Cadance and her brother had their Royal Suite from her last visit to the Crystal Empire, but she hadn’t exactly visited their bedroom. Now, she saw herself confronted with an odd dozen doors leading to different rooms of the expansive quarters reserved for the Crystal Princess and her family, and she didn’t know where to find the Royal Couple’s bedroom.
Pushing through brief indecision, she addressed her friends. “Let’s try all the doors. We know the bedroom door’s locked, so it must be one of those that don’t open.”
The small group quickly spread out along the corridor. Rainbow instantly zoomed to the other end of the corridor to start with the doors there, quickly peering into an unused, unfurnished room before any of the other ponies had even reached a door. Rarity and Fluttershy stood hesitantly while Pinkie bounced to the next door to the right; Applejack followed close after her in a less exuberant manner.
Twilight picked a door to the left at random, magically reaching for the door handle. To her surprise, a spark leapt from the handle as her purple aura encased it, sending a brief tingle down her horn. She didn’t have time to do more than let go of her telekinetic spell with a small “Oh!” before a brilliant beam of deep red light erupted from the keyhole and the entire door began to glow ominously from within.
Several pony heads turned at the sudden light and Twilight’s shout of surprise, just in time to see the door shine, for the briefest of moments, with light so bright that it almost seemed translucent and then transition from its former closed state to being wide open without going through any of the usual intermediary stages of handle turning, lock clicking and door swinging open.
For a few moments, all was quiet as the six friends took their time to process what had just happened. Then, just as Twilight made her first tentative step towards the open doorway, a wall of pink energy materialized in her way, followed by Shining Armor’s grim face appearing in the opening.
As soon as he recognized his sister, however, his grimace of worry and determination melted away into relief. “Twily! Thank Celestia it’s you,” he exclaimed as he dispelled his barrier. “You gave me a little scare there; I thought that unicorn had come back. I didn’t expect you to arrive so fast.” He reached out to pull her into a big hug.
“We were already in Canterlot when we got your letter.” Twilight returned his embrace. “We got on the first train to the Empire.” After a final squeeze of sibling love, the two separated. “How’s Cadance? You wrote Theory did something to her?”
“She has calmed down somewhat, but she’s still not quite her normal cheerful self,” Shining replied. “I haven’t gotten out of her what exactly happened other than that” – he stumbled briefly over the yet untasted name – “Theory said things to her. She just keeps telling me not to worry and just sits there, all quiet and downtrodden.” He let out a heavy sigh. “But enough about that. Tell me, what has been happening around the castle? What about the guards posted at the door? Did anypony get hurt? Has Theory been apprehended yet?”
“As far as I know, nopony got hurt. Theory has tricked the Captain of the Guard into evacuating the castle by invoking some old quarantine laws from the Third Lunar Amendment, so the guards are all outside waiting for you and Cadance to resolve an alleged crisis involving some made-up monsters.”
Shining groaned, massaging his face with a hoof. “And here I was hoping that getting that guy a desk job would keep him out of trouble. What about that unicorn, then?”
In her head, Twilight quickly put together what bits and pieces she had gathered. It wasn’t much. “From what the guards outside told me, you were probably the last ones that saw her. I’d guess she’s still somewhere in the castle since she went and made sure she has it all to herself.”
“Makes sense. It’s probably best if I go and talk some sense into the guards outside. I’d suggest you say hello to Cadance, she’ll be happy to see you.” He gave Twilight a final nuzzle and a warm “Stay safe,” before turning and leaving the pony friends standing in the corridor next to the open bedroom door.
As Twilight turned her head back towards the doorway, her thoughts went back to the way it had opened. Whatever spell Theory had used to seal Shining and Cadance inside the room, it had been primed to undo itself at a moment’s notice once disturbed from the outside. She wasn’t sure about the trigger mechanism – she hadn’t noticed the spell until after it had already begun unravelling – and was unsure whether it had been keyed to just magical or also physical contact to the door, but the way the spell had behaved as it was lifted told her quite a bit about it. The fact that it hadn’t merely left the door unlocked but returned it to an open state in some way suggested the room had been closed off by some deeper, more metaphysical means than just bolts, locks, the wood of the door, or a simple barrier of force. It worried her that she couldn’t tell whether she would’ve been able to undo the spell if it hadn’t done that on its own. She pushed the questions of ‘if’ and ‘why’ in her head aside and made through the door.
Cadance was lying on a princess-sized double bed, the very image of a recently sobbing but now somewhat composed mess. Her mane was dishevelled, her ears were folded down, her eyes reddened and you could trace the paths of her tears down her face by the still wet lines. She had her head resting on her forelegs, staring glumly into the distance, deep in thought, and only reacted after more than half of the gang had made their collectively noisy entrance.
“Twilight!” Cadance’s mood visibly brightened at the sight of her sister-in-law. She smiled, got off the mattress, stood. “Girls! It’s good to see you, everypony.”
She stepped closer to greet Twilight. “Sunshine, sunshine, ladybugs awake! Clap your hooves and do a little shake!” It was Cadance who initiated their little ritual, and Twilight indulged her; it brought back happy foalhood memories for both of them. Afterwards, Cadance pulled her into a brief, but warm embrace. Still, despite the song and dance and hug and smile, or perhaps because of them, Twilight could not forget the forlorn look in Cadance’s eyes as she had entered, nor the traces of Cadance’s tears, nor the words of her brother and her own worries.
As they separated, Twilight voiced her concerns. “Are you alright?”
The question wiped away Cadance’s smile instantly, and for a moment, she hesitated, looking worried and tired. “I– I think so.” She forced the smile back on. “There’s just a lot I have to think about. It’s okay, really.”
“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Fluttershy asked. “I mean” – she shuffled nervously on the spot and looked down at her hooves – “you don’t have to if you’d rather not. It’s just that talking about these things can often help you deal with them better.”
Cadance just exhaled deeply and shook her head. “I wish it were that simple. I am still trying to piece together what exactly did happen. Or didn’t, maybe.” She gave a short, joyless laugh and looked down at her hooves.
“Maybe we can help you figure all of that out if you tell us what exactly Theory did,” Twilight offered. “We’ve all had some rather unusual things happen today, so what we already know might help explain what you experienced.”
Cadance gave Twilight a long and thoughtful look. “So when the sun vanished earlier today, she was involved in that as well?”
“In a sense,” Twilight replied and gathered her thoughts. Then, with occasional interjections from her friends, she told Cadance how Theory had entered this world by means of a dimensional portal and how she was a Spirit of Knowledge and Insight, which, Cadance noted, explained quite a lot.
The Princess of Love then opened up a bit on how Theory had talked about and even showed her, in some kind of vision, several might-have-beens that had left her questioning her destiny and place in the world. What it was exactly that Theory did she still had no answer to; Cadance could tell only that their conversation had been a surreal and dreamlike experience, and that she thought that Theory considered her, for whatever indiscernible reason, her enemy. After laying down her observations and thoughts before the group of friends as well as herself back onto her bed, Cadance retreated back into her thoughts. “She didn’t have a cutie mark,” she finished quietly as if talking to herself. “What do you suppose that could mean?”
In the end, the group quickly resolved to leave Cadance to her now slightly less brooding thoughts and track down Theory to have her answer for tormenting the princess.
They left the princess’ bedroom with newfound determination, and it wasn’t until the broad, two-leafed doors of the Royal Suite had closed behind them that Applejack asked “So, how are we goin’ to find her?”
The group came to a halt – the problem Applejack had brought up was quite clear. Even though they could, as Twilight had deduced, be reasonably certain that Theory was still in the Crystal Castle, the building itself was by no means small. All of them had, to varying degrees, experienced its wealth of interconnecting floors, spiralling stairs and winding passages.
“Maybe we should split up,” Rainbow Dash suggested, indicating the parting of ways with her hooves as she hovered above the six ponies. “I’m usually a lot faster on my own, so we’ll find her in no time at all!” She added an enthusiastic somersault in mid-air to emphasize her awesomeness.
“Oooh,” Pinkie piped up, immediately sold on the idea. “It would be like in one of those spooky stories where the ponies split up to investigate better, and then the scary monster gets them all one by one. That sounds fun!” She grinned; Rainbow frowned and crossed her hooves, unsure whether Pinkie was being serious and whether she should defend her actually pretty radical idea.
Twilight stopped their shenanigans before they could pick up any more speed. “We should go about this logically,” she decided. “There’s no point in just running about checking each and every room. We have to think this through first.”
“So what’s the plan, then?” Rainbow mimed the sceptic to mask her half-hearted sulking.
“If we want to find Theory, we have to think like her.” As Rainbow intensified her scepticism by adding a raised eyebrow, Twilight gave context to her line of thought. “If you were Theory and you had the entire Crystal Castle to choose from, where would you go? What would you want here? What would you go after?” And, as an afterthought, she added “Aside from Cadance, obviously.”
After a moment of contemplation, Rarity gasped. “The Crystal Heart!” she exclaimed.
“Yeah,” Rainbow nodded in agreement. “Or maybe she’s after those secret rooms Twilight found, the ones full of crazy traps where Sombra has hidden all of his evil stuff.” She passed everypony a serious glance, then solemnly added “Just like in Daring Do and the Enchanted Library.”
“Or maybe she’s raiding the kitchen for baking supplies!” A moment of perplexed silence and jumbled switching of mental gears followed, which Pinkie filled with an innocent smile “That’s what I would do.”
Applejack simply decided to move the conversation on. “Well, the Crystal Empire’s plenty mysterious, so I reckon there might well be something here that Theory’s after that we don’t even know about,” she hypothesized.
“That does sound plausible,” Twilight agreed. “Not even Princess Celestia knows all about the Empire, so who knows what secrets there may still be hidden away. Still, that doesn’t really help us with finding Theory.” With a final bit of consideration, she reached a decision. “We do have a few leads though, so I vote we check out those first and figure out how to go on from there.”
“You know, there is a problem with that approach.”
“Huh?” Twilight hadn’t really expected any disagreement with her proposal. As far as she had judged, the discussion had been fairly exhausted, at least for the moment. “What problem is that?”
“The problem with attempting to trace my steps is that if you do not progress at a significantly faster pace than I, you will continue to lag several hours behind me,” Theory explained. “This makes forcing an encounter with me exceedingly difficult. It might be more useful to try and anticipate my future actions in order to seek out my next rather than my last location and then confront me there.” It took until this point for Twilight to fully register and accept what her eyes and ears were telling her. What she was seeing was mind-boggling because Theory hadn’t suddenly appeared, but had already been there. Judging by the only slowly subsiding expressions of supreme surprise on Applejack’s and Fluttershy’s faces – they were the ones who had been standing to either side of Theory and correspondingly were also most baffled by Theory’s presence right here and right now – Twilight wasn’t the only pony present currently questioning their sanity and general grasp on reality. Her discombobulated mind had barely moved from the question of what to those of how, where, when and why, all the while Theory continued to say words. “Of course, there may be the complicating factor of a contactless battle of wits wherein to force an encounter it becomes necessary to attempt the anticipation of not only my trajectory but also my reaction to its planned interception. Needless to say, such an interaction of precognitive abilities would leave you at a severe disadvantage given both your lack of competencies in the field and the inferior scope of your predictive capabilities. Of course, at this point, all of this is not of immediate concern anymore, but it is something to keep in mind for the future.”
As questions and confusion slowly condensed into outrage, Twilight moved from slack-jawed paralysis towards righteous anger, until she could no longer contain herself. “What did you do?” she asked, combining all her questions and accusations into a single, concise phrase.
Theory simply smiled. “I just went on a little tangent on game theory after covertly joining all of you while you were distracted by wondering where I might be,” she explained calmly. “While this might be considered ironic, I would like to rather emphasize a parallel to the old Equestrian proverb ‘speak of Discord and he shall appear,’ which bears reference to the fact the Spirit of Chaos is usually well aware of his name being uttered.”
Why did this keep happening? “No. Stop.” Twilight couldn’t. She just couldn't. She didn’t have the words. For a few seconds, she had to pause, take a few deep breaths, calm down enough to be able to form coherent sentences. With her thoughts gathered, her anger was no longer a tide that swept away the figurative ground from under her hooves, but a focused, boiling geyser directed squarely at Theory. “You are going to stop deflecting right now, and you are going to tell us what you did to Cadance.” And, with a stomp of her hoof, she added, for emphasis, “Now!”
“We just talked,” Theory answered. She didn’t seem impacted by Twilight’s outburst very much, keeping her expression and tone neutral, simply watching Twilight with reticent interest as she went on. “About her place in this world and its ramifications. To that end, I demonstrated some of the intricacies of destiny by granting her Insight into some interrelations and alternate potentialities. I will admit that I did not allow her to withdraw from the conversation until we were done, but even then describing it as me doing something to Mi Amore Cadenza is a strikingly evocative choice of terms.”
Rainbow Dash snorted. “Yeah, likely story,” she said, hovering towards Theory. “Then why was Cadance crying and locked in her room, huh?” She moved back, setting down amidst her friends, who had regrouped around Twilight and stood with her, everypony facing the markless unicorn.
“If you’ve talked to her,” Rarity remarked, “surely you must have noticed how upset you made Cadance.”
Theory frowned. “I must stress at this point,” she said fiercely, “that despite the colloquially implied causality, Mi Amore Cadenza’s emotions are an internal function of her self, and my conversation with her took place solely through the means of external functions such as her senses. Her emotional reaction to the conversation was her own and not my dictate, so you may not cite her feelings as an instance of me doing something to her.” Her expression softened, and she continued in a less intense tone of voice. “Nevertheless, I was aware of any of her emotions to the same degree of depth and intensity as she herself. You will have to take my word for this, as an exhaustive proof would be both time-consuming and mostly pointless. Your assessment of my interaction with her will not change significantly based on whether or not you believe I was aware of her thoughts and feelings. Thus,” she concluded, “I will have to ask you why you take your friend’s distress as a cause for hostility against me; I was under the impression that the proper response to this kind of negative emotion would be to comfort the affected friend with Kindness and Laughter.”
“Are you being serious?” Twilight asked. She was more annoyed than furious at this point after her initial outburst of helpless, confused rage had burnt itself out. “Princess Luna just gave you a second chance, asking me and my friends to help reform you, and instead of putting some effort in and trying to be on your best behaviour, the first thing you do is go out of your way to hurt our dear friend Cadance!” She placed a hoof on her chest as she repeated “Are you seriously asking us why we are angry?”
Theory blinked sedately, then simply answered “Yes. Our current differences are rooted in a lack of mutual understanding that I am seeking to remedy.” She smiled and continued, speaking faster with every sentence that followed. “Nonetheless, you claim I hurt Mi Amore Cadenza. As it is obvious that no physical pain or harm was inflicted, you will deflect my thusly based refutation into an implication of harm to her emotional faculties. However, no such harm was done as you will agree when presented with sufficiently convincing arguments. We will spare ourselves this line of argument as it will do little more than dance around the question what hurting a pony emotionally actually means beyond causing them negatively connoted feelings; that such a meaning beyond the trivial exists would be your insistence were I to argue that hurt feelings lack meaningful impact on a pony’s life based on the volatile and transient nature of emotional states.” Theory paused at this point, taking in the different faces the ponies opposite her were pulling, evidence that several of them had not been able to follow Theory’s increasingly rapid words. When she resumed her speech, she did so at a normal speed. “Let us assume you have already convinced me there is some deeper meaning to your claim of me hurting Mi Amore Cadenza and focus our discussion on a term more central to our incongruity: that of emotional pain.”
Twilight blinked owlishly, then briefly shook her head to clear the aching numbness that had set in trying to follow the leaps and twists of Theory’s logic and rhetoric. At this point, she wasn’t completely certain anymore whether this was still some sick kind of game Theory was playing, or whether she was actually serious about all this being a big misunderstanding. “You want us to talk about emotional pain?” she confirmed slowly. Theory nodded. Twilight let out a ragged sigh. “First you say that you understand how Cadance felt, and now you suddenly don’t know what pain is? I have a hard time believing that.”
Theory thinly smiled back at her, a smile just barely on politeness’ side of the border to condescension. “I understand what physical pain is, mind you, and it serves an important function as an alert mechanism, as an indicator of bodily stress and damage that would compromise the body’s function. What you call emotional pain, however, does not necessarily serve as an indicator for similar danger to the processes that allow expression through emotion. Since emotions are just one way for the self to express its inside world to the outside world, them having a true pain analogue while other forms of more creative expression do not is something I do not understand.” She shrugged in a half apologetic, half helpless way. “Mind you, I am not claiming that emotional pain is not analogous to physical pain as we cannot reach logically sound consensus on that, but I genuinely want to understand what it is that qualifies emotional pain as, well,” – her forehoof drew a circle in the air – “pain.” Theory set her hoof down and looked at Twilight expectantly.
“Um,” Fluttershy started, barely looking up from her hooves at Theory as she softly pawed the floor, “I don’t want to sound like I’m accusing you of anything, but I feel like you’re being awfully dismissive of ponies’ feelings.”
A few of her friends made supportive noises, and suddenly something clicked in Twilight’s head. “It may seem like emotions aren’t important at all, but that’s just not true,” she said. “Even though we don’t think about it a lot, emotions are really a part of every aspect of our lives. They’re a part of every experience we make and every decision we make. The way we feel is more than just some random impulse our thoughts and desires express themselves as, but how and what we feel about things are a big part of who we are, and what we feel also shapes what we think and how we act.” Twilight’s forehooves produced animated gestures alongside her monologue. They included classics like the hoof-on-heart pose and the all-encompassing sweep as well some more rare examples such as tapping the floor at different points to emphasize juxtaposition. Also, somewhere along the line, her wings had unfolded on their own. Twilight wasn’t quite sure what to do about that, though they did make her look bigger and maybe added some extra expressiveness to her gesturing. Maybe. “Emotions are like a common language between the conscious and the subconscious, and emotional pain upsets all of these things; your whole being is thrown out of balance. If physical pain warns you about an injury to your body, emotional pain warns you about injury to your soul.”
Theory was looking at Twilight with wide, shimmering eyes, an enormous, dopey grin on her face. “Yes!” She laughed, clapping her hooves together in childish glee. “Psychosomatic trauma,” she beamed. “Oh, this is wonderful.”
Somehow, this wasn’t quite the response Twilight had been expecting. She hadn’t said anything wrong, had she? “Er, are you okay?” she asked Theory with concern in her voice, though that concern wasn’t strictly for Theory’s well-being, but mostly for her own and her friends’ safety and sanity.
“Yes,” the unicorn replied happily. “I made a terrible mistake.”
“Pardon my confusion,” Twilight said in the same slightly worried tone of voice, “but why are you so—excited about that?”
“Oh, but do you not see?” Theory smiled wide. “Making mistakes is how you learn. If you make a mistake and you realize it, then you have already learned enough to invalidate what you thought previously.” She bounced up and down on the tips of her hooves. “The fact I am already making mistakes means I am already exploring regions of parameter space suitable for testing the validity of my models, which in turn means I am already learning so much!” She settled down onto a much calmer, less excited smile. “That is why making mistakes is a good thing to which an appropriate emotional response is happiness.”
“Well,” Twilight supplied hesitantly, “I guess that makes sense?”
“It does,” Theory replied seriously. “There is another thing that makes sense now: hurting Mi Amore Cadenza was a horrible and stupid thing to do. I realize now that I was wrong in experimenting on a pony by stimulating negative emotional responses like this. I am deeply sorry that my misjudgement has caused all of you so much grief and strained the goodwill you extended towards me. I hope you are willing to look past this because I am taking the chance of reformation Luna offered me seriously and I do want to try and learn about friendship from you.”
“Whoa, whoa,” Rainbow Dash exclaimed, jumping in between Twilight and Theory with a flap of her wings. “Wait a moment! First, you say that you didn’t do anything to Cadance, and now you’re suddenly sorry that you hurt her?” She frowned at Theory. “Do you really expect us to buy this bunch of horsefeathers?”
“I talked to her, I never denied that. Before, I just did not understand that what our conversation made her feel was anything but a passing curiosity,” Theory explained herself. “I misjudged how ponies think and feel, I misjudged how Mi Amore Cadenza thought and felt, I made a mistake based on that, and I hurt her without intending to.” She had now settled on a calm, subdued tone, nothing like the manic, intense exuberance of her outburst just moments ago. “That is what I am sorry for,” she concluded.
“Sure,” Rainbow said snarkily, “you didn’t think you’d hurt her, but you still locked her in her room while she was crying?” She crossed her forehooves, hovering just high enough to look down at Theory. “Yeah, I don’t trust a word you’re saying.”
A slight furrow creased Theory’s brow. “Yes, I did not think I hurt her, which is because ‘hurting somepony’s feelings’ is a concept I am only now really beginning to understand. I locked her and her husband in their room because there are dangerous monsters in the castle and they were acting irrationally. They might have gotten seriously hurt if they had gone about the castle in that state. It was safer for them to remain in their room until they had calmed down. As for not trusting me, that is fine.” She gave a short smile. “I do not encourage you to trust me. I only ask you to accept that what I am telling you is true.” She paused, looking into Rainbow’s eyes, then sighed before the pegasus could speak up. “You suspect I had ulterior motives and wanted the castle empty for my own purposes.” She shrugged. “I do not deny that my endeavours in exploring the Crystal Citadel were aided by being undisturbed and neither do I deny that I did come here to learn more about the Crystal Empire. However,” she said with sudden emphasis, “it was never my only reason for coming and it also does not invalidate my concerns over their safety. And before you accuse me of that as well, no, I did not fabricate any lies about the presence of monsters in this castle. I assure you that they are real and that the quarantine is completely justified and legal.” Theory’s iridescent eyes met Rainbow Dash’s sullen glower, two shimmering pools of light, unblinking, hypnotic.
For a moment, all was quiet. “But if the quarantine says everypony has to leave the castle how come you stayed inside?” Pinkie’s question interrupted the stare-down. Eyes previously locked in ocular battle turned toward her, though it wasn’t clear afterwards who had looked away first. “Doesn’t that break the law as well?” she asked innocently.
It was a really good question, Twilight thought. Theory’s entire line of argument to worm herself out of the hole she had dug herself had been based on her being sincere about taking up Luna’s offer of a second chance and reformation, and the interaction between her and Cadance being a big misunderstanding. Now, it was one thing to hurt a pony’s feelings because you were actually unaware of how that whole thing worked, but breaking the law was another, particularly since the rules in place there were that much less ambiguous than social and emotional considerations. If Theory had known about and ignored the castle lockdown, then that opened a pretty clear line of argument that she wasn’t really that serious about following Luna’s rules and, by extension, being reformed.
“Quite the contrary.” Theory smiled. “Since I am by categorization according to paragraph 2a of the Pony Mutant Quarantine Act a trans-material entity of cosmic power and thus subject to the quarantine, I can not legally leave the castle until such a time as the quarantine is lifted.”
For a brief moment, Twilight had that horrible feeling of disorientation, confusion, and losing the figurative ground beneath your hoof that one may encounter when, in deep concentration, reaching for the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle only to find that it does not fit. To say she was puzzled would be an adequate though very mild way of putting it. Her mouth moved soundlessly as it stumbled over several almost begun sentences while Twilight’s brain feverishly reorganized several knowns, unknowns and suspicions. After a second of hesitation, she asked “Didn’t you help that Guard Captain set up the quarantine?”
Theory nodded. “I did bring to his attention both the situation as well as the law in question, and I did assist him with the bureaucratic formalities,” she confirmed. “Captain Sentry proved to be most cooperative.”
It slowly began to dawn on Twilight why she wasn’t quite sure what to make of this bit of information. Since the start, she had been comparing Theory to Discord – if both were spirits of something or the other, why wouldn’t they be similar? Certainly, it had seemed that way with the constant strangeness and games, the put-on, upbeat childishness and overall bizarreness that marked her interactions with each. There were differences, of course. Where Discord would always be fidgeting, pulling faces and entertaining himself with outrageous use of powerful magic, Theory did almost none of that, and just calmly talked her own personal kind of insanity.
Still, Twilight had caught herself and her friends following the same pattern as with Discord, alternating between trying to angrily talk Theory down and begrudgingly going along with some of her mind games. If anything, Theory was more invested in those than Discord ever was – while he would've probably appreciated the irony of quarantining yourself, he would never have gone through the actual legal and bureaucratic processes. The notion that the castle lockdown was, in fact, completely legitimate seemed to give a whole new dimension to Theory's angle of argument, and now Twilight wasn’t even certain anymore whether or how much of this really was just one of those games spirits played on ponies. What if Theory was being sincere about this? What if Theory really had not wanted to hurt Cadance?
With Discord, it was simpler. He was never really sincere about anything. Being sincere wasn’t chaotic, it wasn’t Discord. But what about Theory? Theory wasn’t Discord, she wasn’t some aeon-old chaos spirit who had probably lived longer than any of the princesses. What about her excitability, the sudden mercurial mood swings that came out of nowhere and went nowhere, the childishness, what if those where sincere? Theory was a knowledge spirit and less than a day old. What if she actually, in some strange way, was a child? But if she was being sincere, then why— “I should have asked this earlier,” Twilight said, “but why did you come to the Crystal Empire in the first place? I thought you said you just wanted to do some renovations for your underground, er” – she faltered briefly, trying to find a fitting description – “dungeon?” Complex! Secret underground complex! She should’ve used that one, Twilight thought while feeling slightly irritated, but it had come to her just a moment too late.
“I asked permission from Luna for an opportunity not only to begin renovation of the Everfree Technologies Alpha Compound’s facilities,” Theory began quietly, “but also to resolve some questions left open, some loose ends left untied. You see, over the years there were some unpredicted elements, events, things not accounted for in the Watcher’s plan.” She looked down at the floor but still continued, voice clearly intelligible yet far away, as if lost in thought. “While the predictions were corrected and the plan adjusted, it was not always possible for the Order to deduce why these anomalies had occurred. And since quite a few unforeseen events were connected to the Crystal Empire, I wanted to investigate the reason why the Empire’s influence did not properly factor into the Watcher’s and the Listeners’ prophecies.” She looked up again, directly into Twilight’s eyes, and said, determined, firm “That is why I came here. If you had asked me back at the compound, I would have told you then. But you did not ask, so I saw no reason to bother you with the details of my activities.”
Really, Twilight thought, she should have seen this coming. It followed the same pattern, after all; another detail that had slipped past her then was now casting doubt on what would otherwise have been a strong indication of Theory’s insincerity. The odds were that this wasn’t something Theory had left to chance, and there really wouldn’t be any way to undeniably attribute any of her actions to her being uncooperative. And in this case as in any other, it wasn’t really possible to tell whether Theory was wilfully exploiting her and her friends’ negligence or not. Twilight was slowly beginning to accept that the whole question of whether Theory sincerely wanted to reform or whether she was just stringing them along for some weird spirit game would in the end just turn out one big in dubio pro reo. Of course, she considered, there was also the possibility that Theory was being sincere about wanting to be reformed and wanting to learn about friendship, but was still going to take as much leeway to pursue her other strange goals as they would give her. Before Twilight could come to a conclusion, Theory started moving, turned, and stepped away from the group of friends, up to the corridor’s crystal wall. She gently placed a hoof against it, and the moment the hoof touched the wall, Twilight almost thought she could hear a subdued resonating chime or hum ringing through the walls and the floor, like the sound a wine glass would make when softly struck.
“This city,” Theory started, “contains the oldest artificial structures in all of Equestria. Some, such as the castle itself, are more than ten thousand years old. They are relics of a bygone time and part of a different fate than that of Equestria and her ponies. As a result, the Crystal Empire altered Equestria’s fate simply by becoming part of her, and these changes, both major and minute, have continued to shape everypony’s fates to this day.” Her hoof remained in place, but her gaze danced upwards, along the engaged columns lining the sparkling walls up to the elegant arches of the high ceiling. “I know this because I saw it. I traced threads of fate and causality through the tapestry of time back to the origins of the Crystal Empire, I placed my ear against the Crystal Heart and in its beat, I heard the song of its makers. I climbed the central spire and found the hidden orrery which those who came before used to map the old stars, and I wandered down into the catacombs Sombra had excavated and saw that which he unearthed in secret. And I confronted the princess who is heiress to this place and its legacy and I showed her the alterations of fate she herself had caused.” She pulled back her hoof, turned her head back to the pony friends. “I confronted the heir, but I did not consider the pony. I made a grave error and hurt her when I should not have done so.” Determination flashed in Theory's eyes as she turned again, towards the opulent door to the Royal Suite. “I need to apologise to her.”
The large door gave way to a pulse of her horn, and she cleared the doorway at a brisk trot so that Twilight and her friends barely had time to react before she was already halfway through the parlour on her path towards the Royal Family’s rooms proper.
Rarity took a hesitant step in the direction of the door. “Should we just let her walk back in there, alone with Cadance?” she asked.
Rainbow Dash scoffed. “After what happened last time? Hay no!”
Almost inaudibly, Fluttershy voiced her thoughts. “But if she wants to apologise, maybe we should...” she began, only to be drowned out by a much louder Applejack.
“I reckon it might be okay to see if she really means it,” Applejack said, confidently adjusting her hat. “If things go pear-shaped, we’ll all be there for Cadance.” She passed the others a smile.
Twilight couldn’t really disagree with that notion. She gave a nod to signal her agreement and made to follow Theory. “Cadance won’t be alone. We’ll make sure of that.” It might even help her to have Theory apologise and clear things up. And wasn’t the willingness to see your faults and change your ways an important step in getting reformed? Letting Theory do this would also let her prove that she meant what she had said.
With apprehension, the six ponies moved back the way they came, through the parlour, past exquisite furniture and extravagant tapestry into the same corridor which led to the Royal Couple’s bedroom, following with several seconds latency after Theory herself. They caught up to her at the bedroom’s door, where Theory had paused to give it three knocks and wait for a response before entering.
Cadance’s answer came slow, hesitant, apprehensive. “Yes? What is it?”
Theory turned the handle. The door swung open and the unicorn stepped through, clearing the doorway so the six pony friends could enter as well. “I have come to apologise,” she replied softly.
Twilight slowly followed her into the bedroom, her friends trailing behind. Cadance was still on her bed, but had sat up as Theory entered; she still looked somewhat under the weather, but it looked like she had at least washed her face and brushed her mane in the meantime. Her expression was nervous and tense, perhaps even slightly fearful. She didn’t say anything, so Theory spoke up again.
“When we last spoke I hurt you badly. Not out of malice, for I had no intention to do so, and not out of negligence, for I was aware of how you felt and how I caused you to feel,” she said. “It was out of ignorance that I hurt you, for I did not understand how you were hurting.” She placed a hoof against her chest. “My heart, regrettably, is made of harder and colder stuff than yours, and the pain that affected you so deeply was, to me, a simple curiosity. Now I know better, and I am sorry for the pain I have caused you.” Theory lowered her head, letting it hang down so the tip of her horn almost touched the floor.
Cadance’s expression had darkened as Theory had gone on, and now that she spoke up, her voice was bitter. “I should find it surprising that a spirit of knowledge pleads ignorance of all things, but at this point, I don’t.” She cocked her head as Theory met her gaze, and her tone grew questioning. “You already all but admitted to me that you do not know love. Now you say you don’t know pain. Do you really know me, like you said? Do you really know what might have been, like you showed me?”
“What I showed you,” Theory replied solemnly, “was more than conjecture and prediction. It was contract; contract like the rise of sun and moon, the immutability of time, or the nature of causality. It was a contract of fate, one that was broken. The world which I showed you was the world in which I was meant to exist. The very Gate by which I was to enter this world was that contract’s seal and my birth was the fulfilment of its terms. The fact that it was broken represents a denial of my right to existence. The vision of this world I showed you was not meant or made to hurt you, rather the reverse is true. Though it wasn’t you that broke the contract of fate, it is you that is a symbol of this breach and of the new fate that took its place.” A hoof went up to Theory’s chest, paused there, while she said “And yet, despite this new fate, I am here, present, alive, real, Theory. I exist in denial of the fate that you represent, just like the way you exist as Crystal Princess is a symbol of denial of the fate I represent. Destiny and the forces that govern it have declared war on me before I even existed, that is the truth your reality tells me. The mandate of destiny has placed us in opposition, such that only one of us, the Princess of Love and the Spirit of Insight, may exist in this world.” Theory’s deft hoof danced, indicated ‘you’ and ‘me’, drew an all-encompassing circle, and settled back to rest. “Please understand I am not trying to excuse my actions and mistakes,” she pleaded, “I just want to help you see why I acted in animosity towards you. Again, I did not intend to hurt you, and that I did was a mistake. What I did intend was to instil animosity and incite conflict; conflict between me and you and you and your destiny. That, too, was a mistake. Destiny had designed for us to clash, and I wanted you to see a confrontation I believed was coming, wanted you to understand how your destiny had already shaped this world so you would be at odds with it, question it, struggle with it. I was too ready to indulge in the machinations of fate and the game of lives that so readily develop between and around Spirits like me. I paid too much heed to them and too little to you, as you, as a thinking, feeling pony. I disregarded what mattered to you, what might matter to friendship as far as I understand it, and I realized too late that you and Twilight and all the other ponies of Equestria would teach me love and friendship much better than a dangerous game of chess against destiny. That as well was a mistake, my first mistake, and it led to the other two mistakes in turn.” Theory sighed, her shoulders sagged, her gaze darkened and dropped again. For a moment, there was silence, but it did not last long enough for anypony else to start a reply. “I do not want to fight you. I believed that I would because that is were the paths we were set on would lead us, but I know now that I do not want this. If friendship truly is as powerful as you and your friends believe it is, then we can break free from this fate and walk a different path. I know I can not take back what was said, both because what I said remains true and that I said it remains true, but I can take back the spirit in which it was said. I want you to understand what you saw not as an accusation, not as a prelude to animosity, not as a denial of your victories, but as a window into the deep complexities of how our actions affect the world around us, as an opportunity to see your choices from a different perspective. Ultimately, even the greater knowledge with which we judge the actions and decisions of our past are as imperfect and incomplete as the knowledge that we based those decisions on in the first place. As such all judgement is flawed to some degree and calling a choice right or wrong is always done from a certain perspective that depends on what we can and cannot see when we make that call.” She looked back up at Cadance with a brightened, hopeful expression. “I realize that this is no consolation for you right now. You feel like you can either dismiss all I said or face responsibility for the ways you, according to what I told you, shaped the world. However, the truth is that what I showed you is just a selection focused on details relevant to the precedents of my arrival, and the impact you had on this world is much more complex and diverse. What I showed you is what your destiny means to me. You need to remember what it means to you.”
Twilight turned toward Cadance to gauge her reaction to the monologue, so she only caught the flash in the corner of her eyes. Theory's horn flared up, a luminiferous red spark flickered across its length in the time it took Twilight’s eyes to jump back to Theory. Before any of the ponies could do something, before Twilight could even place the familiarity of the spell, the spark leapt from the tip of Theory’s horn to Cadance’s. Just moments afterwards, Rainbow dove into Theory, sending both to the ground in a tangle of limbs.
The others were more hesitant. Applejack took a few faltering steps toward the scuffle but wasn’t sure whether and how to intervene, Fluttershy seemed torn between supporting Rainbow Dash and Cadance and shying away from potential conflict, Pinkie Pie had produced a party cannon from somewhere but was now questioning whether this was the right kind of emergency and Rarity was still getting over her initial stupor.
Trusting her friends to keep Theory under control for the moment, Twilight turned back to Cadance. Her sister-in-law hadn’t moved despite the commotion and was sitting still on her bed, absently staring into the distance. It clicked—context, observation, and familiarity of the magical pattern lent themselves to a relatively harmless conclusion. The spell Theory had used was some variant of a memory spell. “Are you alright?” she asked Cadance apprehensively.
Cadance blinked and blankly looked at Twilight like she had just noticed her. “I think so,” she said distantly. She blinked again, then added with more focus “I just remembered how I got my cutie mark. I think I also remembered every time I called on its magic to help somepony. It was—strange somehow. And a bit overwhelming, because it was kind of all at once. I didn’t really remember all the names and faces, but mainly what happened, so it was hard to separate similar occasions and to keep track of what happened where and when.” Cadance’s brows knit together, and she closed her eyes, went silent for a few thoughtful seconds. “I think I can only remember all the details for some of them, but for most, it’s quite hard.” She opened her eyes again. “So yes, I think I’m mostly okay.”
“Don’t worry – unf – I’ve got her pinned!” Rainbow’s muffled voice came from the pony pile. Pinkie and Applejack, both standing next to it, looked unsure whether to join in.
“Memory spells usually either augment a pony’s ability to remember in general or amplify certain memories shared by the spellcaster, but there are always limits to them,” Twilight thought out loud. “So this was different from what Theory did before then?” she asked. Cadance nodded in reply. “Then it probably really was just a memory spell she just cast, though I’m not sure how exactly it would work given that she wasn’t there for any of the stuff she made you remember,” Twilight concluded.
“I believe this form of physical contact is called a friendly hug or cuddle,” Theory commented jovially from her mutual enlacement with Rainbow Dash. “I am grateful for you giving me this practical lesson on the expression of friendship and not violently assaulting me.”
“It does put some of the things she said into perspective, though,” Cadance mused. Twilight waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t do so.
“Hng—let go!”
Twilight looked over to the commotion. Rainbow had apparently changed her mind on who was pinning whom, and Twilight sure as hay couldn’t tell from the outside who in this Gordian knot had the upper hoof. Applejack looked ready to intervene but didn’t know where to start.
“While you are very soft and fluffy, I will respect your wish for this embrace to end because as a good friend and nice pony you will not try to attack me as soon as I let go.” Theory slipped from the entanglement and rose back onto her hooves in one fluid motion, leaving Rainbow on the ground wrestling with herself for a bit before managing to sort her limbs again and getting up as well. “This was fun.” Theory smiled. Dash just glowered.
“You really shouldn’t have just cast a spell on Cadance like that, ” Twilight said with a tired sigh. “And I really shouldn’t have to explain why.”
Theory's smile became just an idea quizzical. “Using memory spells is a tried and tested way of helping ponies who have been discombobulated by some capricious trickster back to their proper self,” she argued. “Even if they expressly do not want you to.”
Twilight took a moment to fully work out what Theory was alluding and caught herself before blurting out any of the obvious responses that came to mind. This was the same pattern again, she realized. She thought about her responses to Theory's argument, turned them in her head, trying to anticipate how Theory would counter them. After mulling over it for a second or two, she finally said “Sure.” She waited for the exclamations of protest and surprise of her friends to quiet down, then asked Cadance “Are you okay with it?”
Cadance looked surprised as well but caught herself quickly. “I guess I am,” she said slowly. “I know I shouldn’t be, but in hindsight, I really needed that reminder, so I think this did help quite a bit.”
“That’s good to hear.” Twilight smiled at Cadance, then turned back to her friends. “Since no harm was done, I don’t think any of you have a problem with it?” She winked at their flabbergasted faces. Applejack frowned, Fluttershy and Rarity looked confused, and Rainbow Dash’s look of horror and jaw-dropped disbelief was a sight to behold, but they all got her hint and trusted her to know what she was doing. None of them spoke to the contrary. “Good.” She looked back at Theory, who was still smiling. “Still, if you’re trying to solve a problem by casting a spell in the future, it’d be a good idea to ask one of us first, even if it is another emergency. It’s not that I don’t trust your judgment, but you said yourself that you’re still learning about friendship, and a lot of ponies are a bit more skittish about that sort of thing than Cadance here is. I know that probably sounds unnecessary and laborious to you, but Luna did ask us to do our best reforming you and teaching you about friendship, and sometimes a more roundabout solution to a problem can teach you more than a quick and efficient one. So would it be okay for you to take things a bit slower in the future and ask us first before using magical solutions?”
Theory nodded. “Of course, Twilight. I would be happy to benefit from your and your friends’ expertise on this in the future.”
No distraction, no discussion. That was good, Twilight thought, because it indicated that Theory was at least serious about wanting them to try reforming her. Also because she was really starting to feel tired with the constant rhetorical sparring. “Cadance,” she began again, “I’m very sorry you were pulled into all this. I feel like a lot of this could’ve been avoided if we had paid more attention to how we handled this whole situation, so I’m just glad you’re feeling a bit better now.” They shared a brief smile. “If it’s okay with you, I think my friends and Theory and I should just go now so we can all move on from this mess.”
“It’s alright,” Cadance said quietly.
“One last thing.” Everypony turned back to Theory as the grey mare started talking with the same solemn, subdued tone she had delivered her apology with. “I realize that after the way I acted, you will probably want nothing to do with me ever again,” she said to Cadance, “but I earnestly hope that my failure today does not have to stand between us forever and that maybe one of these days, we can meet one another on friendlier terms.”
Cadance’s expression was unreadable. “Maybe,” she replied.
Theory smiled and softly said “Thank you.”
The six friends and the aberrant unicorn left the Royal Chambers in silence, Applejack and Rarity flanking and all but herding Theory, with Rainbow Dash flying a few feet above the ground, lagging slightly behind and keeping a honed eye on everything. They had left the grand, two-leafed doors behind them and passed a good portion of the corridor leading up to the Royal Suite when Theory spoke up again.
“Say,” she mused, “you would not happen to know where Shining Armor went? All things considered, I owe him an apology as well.”
“After we talked, he went outside to talk to the guard captain and lift the lockdown,” Twilight replied. They’d have to go past the guards outside when leaving the castle anyway, so as far as she figured, stopping by to clear things up with Shining wouldn’t even be a detour. With a bit of luck, they might even catch a train that wouldn't get them back home too late—the day had been draining on many different levels, and she was beginning to feel that.
“I see.” Theory’s expression was bright, amenable, and utterly unreadable. “So you have determined that it is once again safe for ponies to freely access the castle, then?”
“Well,” Pinkie replied chipper, “we kinda just assumed that there wasn’t any danger to begin with because you had just made all of that up...”
Twilight stopped, the whole pony procession came to a halt and Pinkie interrupted herself. Slowly, audibly, Twilight breathed in, her mouth a narrow, tense line. “Theory, could you please tell us what kinds of monsters there are in the castle right now?” she asked laconically.
“Obviously there is me due to my nature as a Spirit,” Theory began, raising a hoof to indicate herself, “which is categorized under paragraph 2a of the quarantine act as a trans-material entity of cosmic power, then paragraph 14b defines the notion of a pony mutant with emotion-based magic as a blanket term for creatures such as Changelings, Sirens or Windigos which however also applies to Princess Mi Amore Cadenza” – she gestured over her shoulder, back to the Royal Suite – “and lastly the characterization of an amorphous, abhorrent beast from the Outer Spheres in paragraph 5 describes the insurgent servitor that is currently rampaging through some of the guest rooms on the fourth floor.” She pointed up and slightly to the side.
Applejack frowned. “Wait, so you’re saying that you used Cadance as one of the reasons for this quarantine malarkey?” she said, pointing a hoof at Theory.
Theory shrugged. “I did not create these regulations. As an alicorn fuelled by the power of love, Mi Amore Cadenza fulfils the specifications of paragraph 14b, and that is that.”
“The other monster you mentioned, this amorphous beast, is that a threat to ponies?” Twilight asked impatiently, her right ear twitching.
“Absolutely.” Theory nodded sharply. “The entity in question is the size of a train car and will attempt to entangle and envelop any pony it encounters to dissolve them using its caustic secretions. Additional hazards it poses to ponies may include but are not limited to dismemberment, lacerations, strangulation, contusions and loss of appetite.”
“And why,” Twilight asked, this time a bit louder, “didn’t you tell us about this earlier?”
Both eyebrows raised, Theory replied levelly “I brought it up as soon as you mentioned Shining Armor was planning to lift the quarantine. It did not seem a pressing matter before as the servitor was contained and isolated within the castle and thus nopony was in imminent danger.”
“Okay. Fine,” Twilight said. A weird monster in the Crystal Palace was about the last thing she wanted to have to deal with right now. “So we’re going to have to deal with this, too.”
“Does that mean we’re going monster hunting?” Rainbow Dash asked eagerly from above.
“Let’s just get moving,” Twilight decided. She turned back to the markless unicorn. “Theory, you lead the way. Also, I would like to know what we’ll be up against here.”
“Gladly.” Theory smiled. “It’s this way to the stairs.” She indicated a general direction and resumed her trot, the rest of the party trailing after her.
The group of friends followed the pale mare through the shimmering corridors, up a winding flight of stairs, then through other corridors towards a section of the castle reserved for guests, incidentally close to a different set of guest rooms where the ponies had stayed the night in the Crystal Empire during Princess Twilight’s inaugural visit scant two weeks prior. Along the way, Theory outlined to them in a manner more verbose than succinct but no less precise what they would have to expect of the thing that awaited them at their destination.
The servitor, as Theory called it, was an artificial form of life created to be the perfect servant, capable of adapting the configuration of its amorphous bulk of protoplasmic flesh to any sort of labour required. It was not truly sapient as a pony was, she explained, but did possess a keen animal intelligence, similar in sophistication and resourcefulness to a crow or an octopus. Their creators conditioned these creatures to work menial tasks and guided their metamorphic capabilities by hypnosis, but their mutating nature and certain aspects of their biological precursors made this form of control unstable, and they tended to rebel, such as this one had. Nonetheless, it still retained parts of its indoctrinated behavioural and morphogenic patterns belonging to its original function in cleaning sewage pipes in the vast cities of some alien civilization on a distant world. Likewise, their heritage inexorably drew them to places where the veil between worlds was thin, leading to them getting lost in the skein between realities, to resurface in a different place, a different time, a different world, just as this one had.
The thing they noticed first in their approach was the smell, a putrid stench of rot and decay and, more subtly mixed beneath that, a strange, acrid note that made their eyes water slightly. The stench grew in intensity as they got closer, getting to the point where it was almost unbearable when they rounded a corner and saw, in the corridor before them, a glistening, oily smear leading from the opposing corner across the corridor between several open doors until it disappeared into the open door nearest to them. The carpet was gone where the slick trail crossed it, and the edge close to them, where the smear turned into the doorway, was frayed and blackened. The group stood still, and for a moment, all of them were silent save for their somewhat laboured, almost gagging breaths. Piercing the quiet through the open door came a wet smacking sound, a slow dripping and gurgling interposed by the intermittent glacial tearing of fabric.
“We’re here,” Theory provided.
“Yeah, thanks.” Rainbow gagged and coughed. She rolled her eyes. “I couldn’t tell.”
Before things had a chance to escalate from there Twilight interjected, addressing Theory with “From what you describe, this servitor is basically a giant, dangerous animal, not deliberately hostile to ponies, but fiercely territorial, correct?”
“The servitor instinctually cleans its surroundings of any foreign organic matter. It does not distinguish between living and dead in that regard,” Theory confirmed. If the stench and the fumes rising from the slimy coating on the floor affected her, she didn’t show it. “Apart from that, it does not actively seek out prey.”
“Right.” Twilight blinked to clear her eyes, grimaced. “Fluttershy, do you think you can try talking to it? Maybe if it understands it’s not supposed to be here you can convince it to leave and go somewhere it doesn’t pose a danger to anypony.”
“Um, I’m not sure if my special talent will work on it if it’s not really a natural creature,” Fluttershy said hesitantly, “but I can at least try.” She began shuffling towards the door.
“You can do it, sugarcube,” Applejack cheered Fluttershy on, trotting alongside her. “We’re with you all the way!” The rest of the group moved with them forward, some more eager than others.
Rarity was the least enthusiastic of the troupe. “Well, at least most of the way,” she whispered, eyeing the disgusting smear on the floor with a horrified expression.
At the edge of the carpet, they slowed down, reluctant to come into contact with the layer of ooze on the floor. Still, at least part of the spacious guest room was visible from this angle. Peering through the door, the first impression the ponies had was that of small, blinking lights shining from a dark room; yet this was not the case. Instead, the majority of the room’s surfaces, floor, walls and ceiling, were covered in a slick, almost black substance that undulated and flowed over everything. The bed was almost completely covered, thick, viscous tendrils were crawling up the curtains, which were slowly tearing up under the added weight. The moist surface of the servitor’s dark flesh constantly shifted, extruding small protrusions that blindly flailed through the air before being reabsorbed, and pale green, bulbous pustules that seemed to rise to the surface and sink back, glowing faintly from within.
Again, everypony was silent for a few seconds. Going for a good gasp of shock isn’t really the same when the air’s so biting it makes your skin itch.
Fluttershy swallowed, took a few shallow breaths, then gently took off, gliding a bit closer before speaking up. “E-excuse me?”
Another pregnant pause, then the thing inside the room reacted. Waves rippled through it, beginning at the corners of the room and moving inward, where, in the room’s centre, a swelling clump began to form, quickly growing in size. The luminous bulbs clustered on the blob’s surface, small eddies swirled to become opening and closing holes, undulating funnels, the now massive lump started to slowly pulsate, distending and contracting, and an odd, haunting whistling filled the room, ranging from a deep, tuba-like buzz to the shrill piping of a piccolo played by an unskilled flautist. Two notes the dissonant wind orchestra played, then it fell silent.
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry to disturb you,” Fluttershy apologized. She smiled at the rotund mass that reached almost up to the ceiling. ”I’m Fluttershy, and who are you?”
Two low, long tones, then a few short ones came, as if in answer. Twilight breathed a sigh of relief. If Fluttershy could talk to it, then the problem was as good as sorted out.
“That’s a nice name, but I don’t think I can pronounce it,” Fluttershy replied politely. “So, I know you’re very busy cleaning the place,” she went on, “and it does look like you’re doing a really good job, but maybe you could clean somewhere else?”
The central mound of strangely fluid flesh shuddered, and let out a repeating three-note chord until Fluttershy interrupted.
“I know you don’t want things getting dirty, that’s okay,” she reassured the servitor, then, as the piping had subsided, she explained “It’s just that this place already has pony cleaners, so you don’t have stay here and clean everything. Also, this really isn’t the right place for someone like you. Wouldn’t you rather live underground or underwater in a nice dark cave instead of here on the surface? I bet you’d like that.” She offered a reassuring smile.
All over the central bulge’s surface, small, temporary pseudo-limbs frayed outwards, flailed agitatedly and sunk back into the surface, accompanied by a brief staccato of irregular chirps and followed by a drawn-out, low buzz that was only interrupted by the curtain rail being ripped loose from its mounting and noisily falling into the embrace of the writhing tendrils below.
Fluttershy let out a little gasp. “That’s a very rude thing to say,” she said sternly, frowning at the faceless blob. “There’s no reason to talk about them like that.”
“Is everything okay, Fluttershy?” Twilight called up to her pegasus friend. She coughed. “Is there a problem?”
“He’s being a bit obstinate about leaving, I’m afraid,” Fluttershy replied. Her additional height and the air current created by her wings lessened the impact of the heavy, creeping fumes on her respiration despite her greater proximity to the servitor. “And he said some mean things about the cleaning staff.”
“Do you think you can figure something out or should we try a different approach?” Twilight asked.
Fluttershy thought about it a few seconds, anxiously rubbing her forelegs together. “I think I’ll try being more insistent to get through to him,” she decided. Twilight nodded approval and understanding. “Okay mister,” Fluttershy addressed the creature again, “I know you’re upset, but that’s no excuse for calling ponies names. Even if you don’t approve of their standards of cleanliness, the Crystal Ponies still live here and you should respect that.”
A guttural gurgle came from the thing as it shifted its mass, a drawn-out squeak as it dragged a slick tentacle across the window pane, then a couple of jittering bars of dissonant skirl as it finally replied.
“I am not taking that kind of lip from you,” Fluttershy chided. “I know it’s not your fault you’re here, but you have no right to drive ponies from their homes and break their belongings just because you think they’re too dirty.” She sighed, her expression softened. “I really want what’s best for everyone here, not just us ponies, but you as well, but I can’t help you find a proper space to live if you’re so uncooperative. I don’t want to do things like this, but if you don’t behave yourself and try to work this out together with me, I’ll have no choice but to use” – she paused dramatically – “the Stare.”
The bulbous lump of malleable flesh quaked, seemed to swell further, all while releasing a repetitive three-tone piping, warbling and offensive to the ears of anypony with a sense of music.
It didn’t require translation or explanation for the rest of the ponies. Fluttershy’s expression told them all they needed to hear. “How dare you,” Fluttershy burst out, “how dare you say something like that? How dare you mock the idea of creatures caring for each other?” The intensity of her glare was almost tangible. The Stare’s power radiated from her like heat, and although it wasn’t directed at Twilight, she still felt a shiver run down her spine. “I’m trying my best to be nice to you, to make sure you feel welcome and to work something out that you’ll like, even while you’re still in the process of making a complete mess of this place that some poor pony is going to have to clean up while being unapologetic and rude, and you know what? It’s okay, I can take that. But when I extend my hoof to you in friendship and kindness and all you do is laugh at me, that’s where I’m going to draw the line.” A beat of her wings sent Fluttershy closer to the foul-smelling blob, fiercely staring right into its luminescent, milky orbs. “You are going to stop behaving like this now, you are going to leave this room and this castle and this city in peace. You are going to leave, and then we’ll find you some nice place to stay where you can live without upsetting anypony. But first, mister, you will have to apologise, to me and to the ponies whose things you have ruined! Is that understood!?”
For several long seconds, only Fluttershy’s agitated breathing filled the silence. And silently, the servitor started moving. The central mass swelled as its distributed flesh flooded back together, and with a suddenness and speed that belied its enormous and blubbery constitution, it began lumbering towards Fluttershy. Whipping tendrils extruded from the surfaces of retracting tide and advancing mass, curling, reaching, grasping for the butter-yellow pegasus hovering before the formless monstrosity. As it charged, it broke the unnerving quietness with which its bulk moved, resumed the unholy, shrill piping, called out “Tekeli-li! Tekeli-li!” With a yelp of surprise and fear and a flap of her wings, Fluttershy propelled herself backwards, twisted in mid-air, and dodged through the doorway, away from the tidal wave of flesh that rolled towards her. Not two seconds later, the servitor’s massive body, too big for the door, slammed against the door frame with a wet smack that sent a noticeable shudder through the building. The group of ponies, now rejoined by Fluttershy, started a cautious retreat backwards as the servitor began slowly pouring out of the door into the hallway, still piping “Tekeli-li” again and again.
“What the hay is that thing’s problem?” Rainbow Dash asked as they regrouped a good distance down the corridor.
“I’m sorry girls, but I don’t think he’s going to listen to me anymore.” Fluttershy landed and looked back at the creature, which was still forcing its mass through the doorway. She seemed upset with herself. “I’m sorry, I should’ve tried harder.”
“Don’t beat yourself up about it, Fluttershy dear,” Rarity told her, “I’m sure you tried your very best. I don’t think any of us could have made an attempt half as good as yours.”
“It’s not your fault that meanie’s being a bad blancmange instead of a pudding pal!” Pinkie Pie added.
“Tekeli-li!” Three doors further down the hall, the servitor had fully exited the room and reoriented itself towards the ponies. Its flanks on either side touched the walls, and it filled the corridor halfway to the ceiling, making its slowly accelerating advance seem more like a rolling ocean wave than the advance of a living creature. All the while, the unnerving piping continued. “Tekeli-li!”
“Guys, I think we should get to kicking that thing’s” – Rainbow broke off in confusion over the creature’s lack of persistent anatomy – “whatever it has!”
“I don’t reckon kickin’s gonna do much good here,” Applejack observed with a look at the advancing wall of dark flesh, faintly glowing orbs and coiling tentacles. “Not unless you want it to grab y’all.”
“As if!” Rainbow boasted as she launched herself towards the ooze-like being. “I’m way to fast for that.” She soared past the tendrils whipping towards her, delivering a few good hits as she flew past. The servitor slowed, directing its attention to the pegasus attacking it. Rainbow dodged and weaved past the onslaught of temporary limbs reaching for her, scoring a kick at a large, pale pustule and another into the flesh of its central bulk. However, her initial whooping and laughing of excitement was suddenly replaced by a sharp “Ow!”, and she fell back to the group. Covering Rainbow’s retreat, Rarity launched a decorative unicorn bust from a nearby alcove at the creature, which harmlessly bounced off and fell to the floor before getting swooped up by a curious tendril. Rainbow landed amongst her friends and immediately set to cleaning her hooves on the carpet. “Whatever big ugly here’s covered in, that stuff really stings,” she complained, prompting Fluttershy to come closer and help her injured friend. Rarity followed up the bust with a similarly effective vase of flowers. This one got caught before hitting the floor, and the inquiring arms removed the floral spray, quickly crushing, dissolving, and consuming it.
“Tekeli-li!” Now free of its assailant, the servitor began speeding up again.
With no way to dissuade it from attack and none of her friends in the line of fire, Twilight sent a vibrant beam of energy against the servitor. She had been going through some of her spells, but none of her more sophisticated options had really seemed promising, so in the end, she had just settled on a simple and reliable kinetic energy blast. The magical attack danced over the monster’s wide front, cleaving off tendrils and tearing a long gash into its flesh. However, as quickly as the damage had been done, it seemed to be undone almost as quickly. The seemingly big wound rapidly scarred and healed, growing a new outer skin-like layer in a matter of moments, and the shaved-off arms were scooped up and reabsorbed just as swiftly; the servitor rolled forward another length and the superficial injury had completely vanished.
Twilight, who had been lining up another shot, let her hornlight wink out—it just didn’t seem very effective. She turned to her friends to see if any of them had any immediate ideas on what to do here, but in their worried, questioning face she found only a mirror of her own perplexity; they were hoping she had an answer to this. Twilight looked back forward and with a start realised that the servitor was quite a lot closer than she had anticipated. It thundered towards them, its corridor-filling bulk looming over them as its front section distended up and forward like the crest of a great wave about to roll over them. A gust of foul-smelling air pushed along in front of the servitor hit Twilight’s nostrils, almost making her gag.
Rarity shrieked, Fluttershy yelped, a monstrous, wet slap rung through the hallway as the servitor’s front slammed down and came to a halt, stopped by a magenta barrier of force that bisected the corridor in front of it like an extra wall. Instinctively, Twilight had shaped the shield she had conjured up like a wall instead of a dome as usual. Now, seeing the black flesh pressed against it and the milky, glowing orbs peering at them through it, she was quite happy to not be sitting under a magical dome with a fifty-ton layer of airtight malicious ooze on top of it.
“Now what?” Pinkie asked.
“What I don’t understand,” Twilight grumbled, “is why it even started attacking us. It seemed to be fine with Fluttershy talking to it until it suddenly wasn’t.”
“Um,” Fluttershy made, looking up from nursing Rainbow Dash’s acid burns. “I think he’s confused and I might have scared him and that’s why he’s lashing out.” She shuffled her hooves on the spot. “I think he doesn’t have a lot of experience dealing with other creatures and only knows to ignore or attack them. I don’t think he ever learned to change his behaviour for the sake of others, so he’s really having trouble understanding what we want of him.”
Thud!
The shield flickered, the dull pain of magical feedback shot through Twilight’s horn and she winced. The servitor had reared back and thrown itself against her forcefield while they had been talking. Her shield had held, but keeping it up had just become a lot more taxing. If it kept doing that, sooner or later it would break through. As if it was reading her thoughts, the servitor started pulling back for another charge.
“Okay,” Twilight said, “we need to come up with a solution, and fast. My shield won’t hold for much longer. Fluttershy, you say we can’t convince it. What other options do we have?”
“I say we just blast that stupid thing with the Elements,” Dash suggested sullenly as she sat on the floor on her hind legs, her foreleg stretched out to let Fluttershy fuss over it.
Fluttershy didn’t look up as she applied the improvised bandage to Rainbow’s leg (it was a product of Pinkie’s emergency party supplies, Rarity’s emergency sewing supplies, and Theory’s suggestion of an ad-hoc recipe for a chemical neutralization agent) and said “I really don’t want us to hurt him. It’s not his fault he never had any loving parents or positive role models and he shouldn’t be punished for that.”
Thud!
Twilight flinched. She could feel the beginnings of a headache build up at the base of her horn. There was a distinct chance that tomorrow, she would wake up with a migraine. “I realise that, Fluttershy,” she replied, “but does anypony have any other suggestion?”
“Any other suggestion?” Theory asked innocently. She smiled. In her bright eyes, the interplay of colours mirrored the glow of golden light flooding through indigo clouds.
The other ponies looked at Theory, then at Twilight, who had the slightly pained expression of someone asking themselves why they kept trying to drink pure lemon juice. The ensuing awkward silence was quickly interrupted by another Thud! as the servitor slammed itself into the shield again. Twilight grimaced, then said with a voice of forced calm “Let’s hear your idea, Theory. The short version, please.”
Theory nodded. “I have a banishment spell,” she said.
“Why didn’t you—“ Twilight started, then decided that no, she wasn’t having that kind of discussion again, not now. She took a deep breath and exhaled. ”Never mind. What’s the catch?” she asked instead.
Theory’s eyes wandered over the group of six. “None of you can perform this spell or even verify its function without lengthy prior study,” she explained. “You’ll have to let me cast it and believe it does what I say it does without proof.”
“I can’t say I like the sound of that,” Applejack decided. “But I also don’t like the idea of using the Elements on that there critter if Fluttershy ain’t on board with it. So I don’t know what I’d rather we do.”
“Where would that spell send him?” Fluttershy asked. “And would it hurt him?”
Theory’s expression was neutral, her eyes were gleaming. “The spell would cause the servitor no harm and return it to whence it came, to an in-between separating concurrent realities. You have my word for that.” A cynical little smile twitched in the corner of her mouth. “Of course, on the other hoof, you only have my word for that.”
Thud! The servitor cried “Tekeli-li” as it struck the shield once again.
Twilight groaned. She swayed, took a step backwards to regain her footing. This time, the assault had pushed her barrier and by sympathetic feedback also her back just a bit. Her horn felt like it was on fire and her head like it was caught in a slowly tightening vice; by her estimate, she could only take two or three more such hits before the shield would shatter. “Let’s please just not waste any more time,” she managed to say before she had to close her eyes shut and wait for the newest throb of pain to subside. She opened her eyes again and met Theory’s, where she found the unspoken question for her approval. She nodded.
As the servitor pulled back for another charge at the shield, Theory stepped forward and her horn began to glow with arcane energy. For a moment, Twilight felt Theory's magic touch her shield, then her connection to the spell was already severed. The magenta glow of the ethereal wall turned a darker crimson as Theory took control of it, and a moment later, she had stepped through it. The servitor paused halfway in the motion of gathering momentum for its next attack, for a moment unsure how to react to this new development.
Theory raised her head high, and the magical glow around her horn doubled in intensity. Sparks trailed off her horn, weaving lines of light into the air before sinking back into the dense lattice of magic they sprung from. The light curdled, wisps of electric blue condensing amidst the dance of red fire, expanding, interlocking, twisting. A tightly curling, glowing blue shape rose up from Theory’s horn, wrapped around itself and folded into itself in the strange way that suggests the embedding of highly complex topology into a space of too low dimensionality, an impossible tangle of curving surfaces that hung gently shimmering weightless in the air, thrumming and whispering like hushed brass winds. Glittering blue light reflected in the servitor’s milky sight-organs, and with a shudder it resumed its motion, lunging towards Theory, tentacles thrashing around in front of it. The knot of light tightened and simultaneously unfurled, pulsed once, its ghost-like light flooding through the corridor and gently suffocating all noise. The angles twisted, distance buckled and vibrated. The glowing geometric vortex pulsed again twice, thrice, then more, in a rhythm encoded by the mathematics of fractional dimensions. Strange pattern danced across the forcefield separating the ponies from the spectacle, and the thrumming grew to deafening soundlessness. Meanwhile, the servitor seemed to slow down. Its tendrils moved languidly through the air, and trailed some sort of fog or white smoke as they reached for Theory's body; in fact, the odd mist appeared to be rising from its entire massive shape. The fog grew thicker with each pulse of the luminous hypersurface, partially obscuring the servitor’s glacially advancing bulk. One of its mist-trailing arms curled around Theory's leg, but instead of wrapping around and gripping tightly it slipped and passed, with a slight disturbance of the surrounding fog, right through, twisting idly around itself, increasingly wrapped in fog, its flesh increasingly translucent. With another pulse, the transparency spread over the mist-shrouded body, its contours blurring in the thicker and thicker fog until no clear distinction or separation was visible in the nebulous, ponderously shifting shape of roiling mist.
The entire time, Theory hadn’t moved. Now, she did. A wave and tilt of her horn and the thrumming stopped, the flickering blue shape above her changed. The knot of non-trivial geometries collapsed into itself, and as it did, it seemed to pull back all the light that had flooded forth from it back into it. Waves of pulsing light rushed inward, dragging the ghostly fog in twisting spirals with it, into the imploding whirl of angles, curves, and light. Finally, the blue wisp winked out, and the corridor was euclidean once again. Theory’s horn dimmed and the shield dissolved as she turned around, giving the ponies a clear view of the now much emptier hallway. Even the oily sheen that had previously marked where the creature had spread its caustic slime had vanished. The revolting stench lingered yet but was already growing fainter like the recollection of a half-remembered dream. Theory wore a thoughtful expression as her eyes wandered over the six ponies before her. “Curious,” she commented. “I do not think this was a friendship problem, was it?”
“Well if it was,” Pinkie mused, “I don’t think I learnt anything from it. Did any of you girls learn anything?”
Fluttershy ignored them, stepping towards Twilight, who was standing still, breathing slowly with her eyes closed, and put a hoof on her shoulder. “Twilight, are you okay?” she asked softly.
Twilight opened her eyes and gave Fluttershy a faint smile. “I’m fine, just a bit tired.” She sighed and turned toward Theory. “What I would like to know is why you didn’t do that” – she gestured vaguely toward Theory and down the corridor – “earlier.”
“I had to ask for your approval first, obviously,” Theory replied, “and you all were very busy finding your own solutions to apply to the problem. I did not want to stop you or trivialize your efforts by imposing my thoughts.”
That was about the kind of patronizing excuse that Twilight had expected. She sighed. “Alright, but couldn’t you have at least warned us that the Stare wouldn’t work?” Twilight asked.
“Yeah,” Applejack agreed, “that servitor thing gave poor Fluttershy here quite the fright.”
Theory raised an eyebrow. “Such a warning would require certainty on my part in failure on Fluttershy’s part. However, I could not be sure whether and how the famous Stare would in fact affect the servitor simply based on prior evaluation of Fluttershy’s abilities,” she explained, earning a range of sceptical to blank faces in response. Before any questions could be voiced, though, Theory continued her elucidations. “You see, if the circumstances of this confrontation had lent themselves to Fluttershy learning a friendship lesson and accomplishing some measure of personal growth, this might have enabled her to utilize the potential of her talents to a greater degree than previously and then succeed in solving the problem. A warning and show of non-confidence in Fluttershy’s ability to handle the situation might have precluded the possibility of such an outcome entirely. Lacking my understanding of it may be, the magic of friendship is a powerful force indeed and has on previous occasions helped ponies in times of crisis grow beyond their limits and achieve feats that before might have been considered impossible. Given your group’s particular affinity for this type of magic,” she concluded, “I thought it wise not to discount its possible influence on your efforts especially given my, again, quite limited understanding of the subject.”
“Fair enough,” Twilight said after briefly thinking the argument over. She might not have agreed with Theory's point, but she sure as rain wasn’t going to just start arguing against the power of friendship. A proper deconstruction of Theory's argument, if even fully possible, was going to take a lot more time and energy than she could spare right now. And even if she did manage to make Theory concede the point, then the very line of discussion of the relevant minutiae would just pave the way for the argument of a plausible, genuine, and excusable misjudgement. Even considering the possibility made Twilight feel tired. “Let’s just go,” she proposed, leaving the implied ‘home’ and ‘to bed’ unsaid.
Theory nodded. “It is time.”
Twilight blinked, slightly confused. “Time for what?”
“The sun sets,” Theory replied. “I gave Luna my word I would return to her supervision and report for debriefing after dusk in Canterlot. As I would like to keep my promise, I ask permission to transport to Canterlot in a timely fashion.” She looked at Twilight expectantly.
“I’m not going to let you run off on your own again,” Twilight said. They’d just finished clearing up the fallout from Theory's last unsupervised escapade. “We’re all going to Canterlot together.”
“So you are not opposed to me travelling to Canterlot, but you want all of you to accompany me?” Theory asked. “May we leave now, then? I do not wish to be late.”
“Yeah, sure.” Twilight turned towards her friends, gauging their opinion. “Is everypony good to leave?” Nods and other gestures and sounds of affirmation were the response.
“Good.” Slowly, deliberately, Theory raised her left foreleg. Her eyes glittered. “Brace yourself,” she said, and swiftly brought it back down on the shimmering crystal floor. Her hoof hit the ground without a sound.
A shiver ran down Twilight’s spine, something like an intangible gust of frost blew through her, chilling her from the inside. The castle, the world around her seemed to fade, turn into glass, revealing the boundless sky beyond. For a moment, the translucent world glittered in the light of the setting sun. Then it shattered, falling away completely to leave her stranded in an infinite expanse of bright stars and dark void. The sky that was now above her, beside her, below her was both darker and brighter than any night sky she had ever seen, marred neither by a cover of clouds nor the haze of the horizon. The sun shone merciless to her right, while the moon gleamed like ice to her left and all around spanned the intricate web of all constellations known to ponykind. Twilight turned her head, saw her five friends behind her, staring into the vast sky with varying expressions of awe, surprise and fright; saw Theory standing in front of her, facing away, her left hoof raised.
The intangible gale returned as a storm, a sudden sense of vertigo and movement twisted Twilight’s insides as if she was falling fast through the emptiness. The hoof moved, and the floor came up from below to meet it, shards of crystal flying together, turning opaque, setting themselves back in place, into floor, walls and ceiling. With an almost inaudibly deep, bell-like chime hoof and floor met, and reality was solid once again.
Twilight slowly released a breath she didn’t know she had been holding – wasn’t sure she had been holding, for who knew whether more than an instant had really passed – and tried to shake the disorientation of hurtling through space just a thought ago. They were indeed not in the Crystal Empire any longer, she realised. This architecture, these halls were more familiar to her; this was the Royal Palace in Canterlot.
A few minutes after Prince Shining Armor lifted the quarantine of the Crystal Palace, a lone royal pegasus courier who had been held up by the lockdown entered the castle with an important message to the Crystal Princess. After being admitted to a late audience with Princess Cadance, he informed her of the worrying disappearance of her three fellow princesses Celestia, Luna and Twilight. Cadance, who had spoken to Princess Twilight not an hour ago told the messenger that she already knew that Celestia was missing, that his information was outdated, and that according to Twilight, Princess Luna was already back in Canterlot managing the affairs of state. The poor pegasus, who had spent a good part of the day commuting between Canterlot, Ponyville and Fillydelphia before being sent north to the Crystal Empire, barely managed to hold back his tears, thanked the princess for her time, and quietly decided to file a request for an early vacation. He returned to the Captain of the Crystal Guard to ask for overnight accommodations before his return trip to Canterlot and was assigned a bunk. Reaching said bunk, he immediately collapsed onto it from sheer exertion and proceeded to sleep for the next nine hours.
"Once upon a time, in the magical land of Equestria, there were two regal sisters who ruled together and created harmony for all the land. To do this, the eldest used her unicorn powers to raise the Sun at dawn. The younger brought out the Moon to begin the night."
[Equestria, Canterlot; 2nd of Bloom in the year 1004 after Nightmare Moon]
Evening had fallen over Canterlot. The low Sun’s vivid glow painted the Royal Palace’s ivory walls pink and turned its golden roofs into frozen fire. The bustling activity that filled the streets of Equestria’s capital city during the day was quieting down in preparation for the city’s rich and sophisticated nightlife. The palace itself was quieter than most places. No receptions were planned for the evening and no gala or ball was to be held during the later hours, and so the busy ponies of the day shift were slowly trickling out to be replaced by a far smaller and less busy night shift.
Luna was watching the city from one of the castle’s high balconies – she had taken over Celestia’s study while she managed the affairs of state normally handled by her sister – and looked down at her little ponies enjoying the evening. Of what had happened during the day, preciously little had caused any uproar in the wider population. The ominous but brief darkness and the strange weather pattern above the Everfree Forest had been most widely noticed and caused the most worry; far fewer ponies knew of Celestia’s absence and even fewer of her actual disappearance.
She herself had spent a great deal of her time since returning to Canterlot not only smoothing over the upset that had been caused, but easing and dispelling what worries remained, as well as prepare both herself and her sister’s aides so that she could shoulder the full weight of the crown and assume the position as sole head of government tomorrow, should the need arise and Celestia remain missing.
She turned her head and looked into the room, at Spike, who was sleeping curled up on a seating pillow, a blanket hastily thrown over his body. The young drake’s help had been invaluable, for Twilight had taught him a knack for organisation that completely escaped her. From Celestia he knew a good deal about the ponies that surrounded and assisted her sister in her daily affairs, as well as some helpful details regarding the priorities of her schedule. Looking back on this hectic and exhausting afternoon, the confidence and reliability with which he had been able to assist despite the unfamiliar situation inspired nothing but respect for Spike in Luna. He had more than earned his rest.
Her gaze wandered further, over desk and drawers, papers and quills, to see if everything was in order, but nothing had changed since the last time she checked. With a sigh, Luna turned back to look over the city, down toward the ground, avoiding to look up to the horizon and the sky beyond. She was stalling, and she hated herself for it. She was stalling because she was afraid, and for that she hated herself more.
It was late evening, and by now, the Sun’s setting was almost three minutes overdue. If she waited much longer, ponies would start to notice. Yet still she hesitated. The problem wasn’t just that the task was daunting, to set the Sun which she had never moved on her own, rarely even reached for. It wasn’t just the fear of failure that plagued her. The worse fear was of what setting the Sun by herself, alone and without her sister, meant, was the fear that admitting that Celestia wasn’t here now meant admitting that if she was gone now, she might not be here tomorrow, was the dread that embraced her when she considered the possibility that her beloved sister might not ever return.
Luna gritted her teeth, let the breath escape from her mouth with a slight hiss. You should be stronger than this, she chastised herself, you shouldn’t be this stupid. She pushed her fears, both rational and irrational, aside and looked up, at her sister’s Sun. It was too bright, so she looked away again.
Oh sister, how I wish you were here.
With closed eyes, she turned her head back toward the Sun. A thought, a push of will, and her magic reached out, connected Luna to the celestial object up in the sky. It was simply too bright, really. She could see it even now, with her eyes closed. Tendrils of her magic wrapped around the Sun, invisible to anypony who might be watching due to both the great distance and the Sun’s brightness. Luna was replicating the spell she used to move the Moon – how different could the Sun be, after all – as a starting point to work from. Carefully, she wrapped it in her magic, then began to pull, slowly at first, then stronger. The Sun didn’t budge, so Luna poured more power into her spell, further threads of magic encasing the Sun in a tighter net, the magical pull growing and growing until suddenly, there was some give—yet it still didn’t move. Instead, the Sun seemed to wobble, to deform and slip in ways Luna did not anticipate at all. The breath caught in her throat as she released the tugging force, dissolved her magic grasp save for a gentle, probing, worried touch. What had she done wrong? Had she damaged it, somehow? Was that even a possibility? The tremor in the Sun’s surface that had startled her so rippled, weakened and subsided. Luna released her held breath. All was still fine. She hadn’t accidentally broken the Sun.
Now, the fear of failure returned, stronger than before. She didn’t know what she was doing, so how could she even dare a second attempt? Luna let her head hang and sighed as her mind returned to darker thoughts, thoughts of how weak and worthless she was next to her sister, thoughts whose seeds had been sown more than a thousand years ago, which had grown alongside the Nightmare as her dark side’s secret fear, which had haunted her even after Nightmare Moon had been defeated for good. These thoughts seemed to have more weight now that she again wore the Nightmare’s armour, changed to look like her usual regalia, but nonetheless there and serving to extend her power. It blurred the lines between then and now, making her feel sick to her stomach.
An unwelcome voice interrupted her descent to that dark pit of despair, one both obnoxious and unrepentantly gleeful. “Giving up so soon?”
There were very few beings in Equestria who would attempt to sneak up on the Princess of the Night, and fewer still who had a chance of success. There was no surprise on Luna’s part, no confusion as to who this intruder might be, only the instinctual flinch of her body, easily suppressed by centuries of experience. Just as easily, she slipped back into a mindset of stern, cold focus, burying the despair that had been welling up within as she opened her eyes and turned to look at her uninvited guest. “What is it, Discord?”
Her eyes stabbed nothing but empty air. Of course. He was either invisible, disembodied or throwing his voice, just to discombobulate her. A motion in the corner of her eye caught her attention—her shadow, elongated by the low Sun to the point of bizarreness, had moved independent from her, and been replaced by the likeness of Discord. She locked eyes with the grinning shade, but it broke eye contact almost immediately.
“Oh, I was just watching an old friend have a hard time with that big stupid Sun up there,” Discord replied, and the shadow slithered away from her, curling up the palace facade, twisting around the doorway to the study. “And I was wondering to myself whether she needed some help.” In an instant, he shifted from shadow to corporeal, transitioning as simply and smoothly as if just stepping out of the darkness.
Luna sighed. “Have you nothing better to do than bother me? Did you not want to look for my sister?” she asked.
The draconequus crossed his arms. “I was!” He pouted, just for a moment, then the grin returned. “But I’m finished now.”
Hope, a radiant spark bursting into a roaring warm fire, blossomed within her chest. “Did you find her?” she asked, unable to keep the eagerness from her voice.
“Ha!” he snorted. Luna’s heart sank. “You know, your precious elements really did a number on her. Normally, if you throw something out of reality, it just drifts out there in limbo. Worst case, it falls into the Void.” He made a nondescript gesture. “Poof. Disentangled from causality. Never existed in the first place. Complete retcon.”
Luna swallowed; there was an uncomfortable tightness in her throat. “Is this what happened to Celestia, then?”
“Well, obviously not,” he chortled, then leapt into the air and span a circle, hanging upside down as he spoke. “After all you know she’s missing. What happened to her is a bit more complicated, and you seem to be a bit short on time right now…” Discord pointed his furred thumb in the vague direction of the Sun hanging in the sky, just above the horizon, waiting to be set.
She didn’t answer. Her skin was crawling with dread, both at the prospect of another attempt at setting the Sun and at the possible fate of her sister.
Discord righted himself and leaned forwards, lacing his fidgeting claws together to rest his tufted chin on them. “So…” he asked, “want some help with that?”
“I do not want or need your help,” Luna said coldly. It was only half a lie, really. “The cycle of Sun and Moon is not a game to be made light of, and I will not allow you—”
“Ugh, boooring!” he interrupted her. He yawned loudly, blinked down at her lazily as he hovered just a few feet above her. “No, I wasn’t talking about anything as dull as doing any of your work for you. I have standards, you know.” Twisting in mid-air, he slowly circled around her, an insufferable smirk plastered across his face. “You see, I was merely offering some friendly advice. Just two friends, chatting about magic. Like back in the day.” Discord chuckled lightly. As he circled back into her field of vision, his smirk had turned sly. “Unless you want to figure it all out on your own, of course. Don’t mind me then, take your time.”
Luna sighed, again. Indulging Discord’s whims even a little seemed like a tremendous mistake, yet she felt that if she didn’t, he’d do his best to be an even bigger pain than if she did. “Fine, I’ll humour you,” she said. “How do I move the Sun?”
“The Sun is not a cabbage,” Discord stated, and in a flash, one appeared before her, round and green and floating.
“How profound,” Luna deadpanned.
Discord nodded sincerely. “Indeed.” A butterfly net appeared in his paw. “Which is why you can’t just catch it like one.” He swiped for the floating cabbage as if to scoop it up with the net, but the webbing just passed through the cabbage with little resistance, causing it to shake and stir like the disturbed surface of a pond. “Rather,” he continued, dropping the butterfly net, which frayed and dissolved into a mixed swarm of lepidoptera, “it is a lot like water. That means you can’t push it,” – he mimed a fruitless pushing motion with the liquid cabbage – “you can’t pull it,” – he raked his claws through the cabbage in the opposite direction – “in short, you can’t force it in any way.”
Despite herself, Luna found herself caught between interest and annoyance at Discord’s exposition. As obnoxious, boisterous and frankly insane as the old Spirit could be, there were times when his unique and backwards perspective on things could lend some truly fascinating insight amidst all the nonsense. “So how do you move it, then?” she asked, unable to keep a tinge of curiosity from her voice.
“Simple,” Discord said with a grin. “You just let it flow, you just let it” – he snapped his eagle claw – “fall.” The cabbage dropped and splattered onto the balcony, spraying its green liquid everywhere. Luna got completely covered in cabbage goop and the stains reached several pony lengths up the castle wall. Only Discord remained completely dry.
Luna sputtered and grimaced; some of the stuff had somehow gotten into her mouth and, despite the smell, it tasted nothing like cabbage. She glared up at an innocently smiling Discord. “You will clean that up,” she growled.
“Yeah, yeah.” He waved a paw dismissively at her, and the liquefied cabbage covering her and the balcony instantly evaporated. “Look at you worrying about a few little stains. I never took you for such a neat freak, Luna,” he taunted.
“Green just isn’t my colour,” Luna countered snippily and turned away. Getting riled up by Discord’s antics was a fool’s errand—it only encouraged him. Better to disengage and calm herself down; time was short enough even without starting an argument. “Now be quiet. I need to focus.”
She closed her eyes again and took a deep breath. She didn’t really feel like another attempt at lowering the Sun, but there was no time to be wasted by more verbal sparring. Besides, for all the nonsense and antics, she did now have some ideas inspired by Discord’s little piece of theatre. She reached out once again with her magic, weaving a different spell this time, one that dragged at the flow of time and the relative dimensions of space. Her first few attempts were fruitless; she had underestimated the complexity of the magic she was attempting. At least the challenge of understanding the idiosyncrasies of warped space and relative velocities proved a welcome distraction.
Soon, however, the pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together and Luna felt the Sun, ever so slightly, begin to move down towards the horizon. Redoubling her efforts on both the magical and the mechanistic front, Luna managed, bit by bit, to accelerate and adjust the Sun’s descent until finally, she opened her eyes and saw, with a breath of relief, the golden disk of her sister’s Sun disappear behind the faint blue peaks of the Unicorn Range far to the west.
Slowly releasing her breath, she began to alter the spell one final time. The Sun slowed as she completed it, but did not quite stop. The spell would now maintain the Sun’s motion and gently guide it over night to the east horizon, where Luna could then raise it in the morn and set its path across the sky for the day.
Her head felt heavy as she severed the magical link to the Sun. Almost as an afterthought, just before extinguishing her horn, she cast a quick pain-numbing spell of her own design to alleviate her growing headache.
“Didn’t you forget something?” Discord’s mischievous voice asked behind her.
Puzzled, she turned back at him. At her questioning look, he drew a crescent shape in the air with his fingers. It only took Luna a moment to grasp the meaning behind Discord’s charades—and panic flooded back in an instant. The Moon! Of all things, she had forgotten about the Moon. She was so angry and embarrassed, she felt like biting herself. Her horn protested with a barely-dulled jolt of fresh pain as she reached out into the sky again.
To her relief, she found the Moon where it was supposed to be, just rising above the horizon opposite the Sun. Well, almost like it was supposed to; the lunar phase wasn’t the right one – or even any right one. Her magic’s gentle touch swiftly corrected the Moon’s rotation, and soon all was in its proper place in the heavens, Moon rising and Sun setting.
She wanted to give a biting remark, to scold Discord for doing shoddy work, for making light of her Moon by turning it sideways, but the shameless grin on the spirit’s face told her that if she acknowledged he had raised the Moon, then she would acknowledge that he had had to raise it for her, and she would never hear the end of how she, Luna, had forgotten about the Moon. And so, she kept her mouth shut and swallowed every word that came to mind.
Taking a deep breath, Luna made back to the balcony door and into the study, moving on in body before doing so in conversation. “Now that this is done,” she said, “I believe you still owe me an explanation. How has your search for my sister gone? What has happened to her?”
In a flash, Discord was adorned with a chequered coat and a matching deerstalker hat. “You see,” he started, taking a drag from his pipe and releasing a puff of lemon-scented smoke, “when the Elements blasted Celestia across all dimensions known to ponydom, they left a rather noticeable trail. They’re not exactly subtle, you see. So all I had to do was keep my wits about me” – he peered down at Luna through a comically oversized magnifying glass – “and follow her tracks until I found the pony herself.”
“But you did not find her,” Luna wagered. She could guess at least that much.
“Brilliant deduction, princess.” Discord took a bite off his magnifying glass and chewed thoughtfully. “Alas, I followed the trail to the very edge of existence itself, right up to where nothingness begins, and there it stopped.”
Luna opened her mouth to ask the obvious question, but Discord beat her to it.
“And no, before you ask, Celestia’s not in there. It wouldn’t be much of a nothingness if there was a pony there, now would it?” he scoffed. “No, if Celestia was” – he made air quotes – “‘inside the Void’, she wouldn’t be much of anything herself. If you are within that nothingness, you are part of that nothingness, therefore nothing at all yourself and logically never existed in the first place. It’s all quite simple, really.”
“Really,” Luna echoed. He wasn’t making much sense, but at least he was making some—even if it was a nonsense kind of sense.
“Yes,” Discord continued, “and since Celestia left a trail from being banished by the Elements, she must have existed at some point and that means she has not been cast into ultimate, all-consuming nothingness.” He swallowed the remainder of the magnifying glass.
“Yet you still say she could not be found, ” Luna said. “Where is she, then?”
A cube-shaped cloud of smoke rose from Discord’s pipe as he puffed pensively. “Quite elementary, my dear. She is on the other side of nothingness.”
She nodded slowly. “So she is still out there, somewhere.” The answer Discord had given was a confusing, frustrating non-answer, but it wasn’t the answer Luna had feared, that Celestia was gone, for a year, a hundred, a thousand years, or even gone forever. And so the frustration and confusion it caused her was overshadowed by the hope she felt at its implied meaning: Celestia could be brought back.
While her questions were not answered to satisfaction, this seemed to be all that Discord was willing to tell of the lost Princess of the Sun, so she let the topic rest for the moment. Luna had other questions, and they talked more, in the dusk-illuminated study, about the letter from the Crystal Empire’s prince and the danger posed by the Spirit of Insight.
Apparently, while lesser in the direct reshaping of the physical world than other types of magic, the magic of Insight lent itself to manipulation of the abstract and the indirect. It could be used to misdirect others or to extend ones senses to other places and times, to access both dreams and the mind itself, and to perform subtle alterations that seemed, to Luna, more philosophical than tangible, more semantic than concrete.
A Spirit of Insight would, through subtle and circuitous manipulations of causality, leverage the actions of others to amplify its own strength and orchestrate events that favoured its own designs. However, as much as cause and effect would let the Spirit set in motion forces many times larger than it originally supplied, they could hamper its plans just as much when disturbed to act against it. It was the unpredictable nature of Chaos, this Discord supplied with confidence, that could hamstring the machinations of Insight like nothing else.
While in the short term, Theory might unravel any move made against her, Discord could similarly disturb any of her plans in the longer term, where her true strength lay. In such a way, she could be placed in an indefinite deadlock, and made vulnerable to the Elements of Harmony, which she might otherwise have disabled by targetting their bearers in a similar way as Discord had when he had escaped from his first imprisonment.
Whether this would be necessary was a question Discord couldn't as readily answer. The idea of reforming Theory was laughable, of course—but so had been the idea of reforming him, Discord, Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony. If nothing else, Theory had been far more open to the idea than he had ever been, if she hadn’t straight-up wanted it to happen.
Whatever had occurred in the Crystal Empire, the Elements of Harmony had not been used, that much Discord could sense. It seemed likely that Theory had merely been testing the limits of her parole, possibly in some carefully calculated way that would let her escape immediate retribution. There’d been a loophole, he pointed out, in the concession she’d asked of Luna. “I’d bet that she’s keeping her word,” he said, “but only to the letter.”
And just then, as the edge of the sinking Sun vanished below the horizon, a knock on the door interrupted their conversation.
