> The Same Mistake
>  by The Wizard of Words
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Prologue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

History was a mystery, no matter how deep you looked. Those were the first words any student was told when they entered the Archeological Department of Canterlot University. It was a field that was guaranteed to never run out of areas for research, for questions to answer. That was a draw for many ponies, of all races and from all corners of Equestria. Earth ponies, unicorns, and pegasi alike all enjoyed the idea of answering questions asked hundreds to thousands of years ago. 

The only difficult part in the process of finding those answers was finding where to look. Was the secret hidden an ancient text? Was it buried beneath the rubble of mountains? Or was it simply forgotten, waiting for the restoration of an old monument? You could never be sure.

For some, that was the draw of the field. Searching more than researching. The idea that there was always somewhere new to look was as exhilarating a feeling as watching a meteor shower dance through the sky. 

It was the reason why two ponies now stood high above the Ghastly Gorge, the Everfree Forest against their back. Two ponies, far different from one another in all ways but one. One was a mare, the other a stallion. One was a professor, the other a student. One was a unicorn, the other an earth pony. One was looking down the sheer drop of the gorge with a critical and analytical eye, made through years of training and practice.

The other was losing his patience.

“Professor, I don’t believe there is anything here.” It was far from the first time the young stallion had spoken his opinions, but it was just as many times that the professor he spoke to ignored the words. “I mean, we’ve been through here at least half a dozen times now and we still don’t have anything.”

“If things always went right the first time, there’d be no trial or error,” the mare shot back, her eyes looking away from the stallion. Specifically, she had her sights set down the canyon walls they stood on.

It was a decent drop, hardly the highest they’ve ever been, but enough to make the average pony woozy on their legs. It was probably with good benefit that the wall wasn’t sheer. The mare looked down and upon the canyon, searching for something she couldn’t describe.

“Look, Professor, I know this area showed a lot of promise, but maybe it’s time we look somewhere else.” The stallion insisted again. He lifted his leg higher than usual as he took a step forward, avoiding a troublesome root. With the tree line of the Everfree behind them, it was hard to tell which of the tall evergreens was responsible. “The Crystal Empire has a lot to look into, and most of the geologists who specialized in the area are going back for a second look.”

“It precisely for that reason that we are not going back!” There was much more venom in the mare’s words now, complete with a turn of her head. It let the stallion look at her angry graze. It wasn’t a sight he enjoyed.

The professor nicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, twisting her head to gaze back down the gorge. The silence between them was broken only by the occasional echoes of the nature that surrounded them. If not the winds of the canyon whistling beneath them, then the sound of life from the forest permeating behind them.

“Iron, you’re young. Younger than most ponies in this field,” the mare finally relented to speak. “It may seem to make sense to follow the rest of the crowd, but in geology, the best rewards are found in the most desolate of places. You don’t expect to see many ponies digging for finds in Canterlot, now do you?”

“Well, no,” Iron conceded uneasily, “But that doesn’t mean that this place is any more likely to have them. I mean, I hear pegasi use this as a race course all the time! If there was something here, I’m sure somepony would have probably seen it.”

“Yes, because pegasi flying as fast as they can through a canyon are going to notice the abnormalities that we spent half a decade learning about.” The sarcasm in the mare’s voice was thicker than tree sap. Iron would have found it funny if it weren’t for the intimidating ledge they now stood on.

“But we haven’t seen anything either!” The stallion finally raised his voice, stomping his hoof on the grass in agitation. “No crevices, no unearthed caverns, no isolated caves, not even a small pocket of air beneath all the rubble! We’ve both looked so long and hard that we’ve nearly passed out and we’ve still found nothing!”

A tired sigh left the stallion as he finished, grumbling with the pacing air. The professor simply chose to ignore him. She had known Iron Wit since he joined the Archeology wing of Canterlot almost six years ago. Nervous, always unsure, but wishing almost every night to find his claim to fame. It was an ambition she enjoyed to nurture, but she tended to forget the consequence of having such an ambition. He was quick to move on.

“If it was so easy to find these lost sites of history, Iron, our field would have become unneeded decades, maybe centuries ago.” The professor kept her tone ominously neutral as she spoke. “There are many things you have to learn, but if there is ever one lesson you should know outside the library, it’s this.” The Professor turned towards the stallion, gaze as calm as her voice.

“Patience rewards the careful, not the eager.”

With those simple words, the mare turned her gaze back down Ghastly Gorge, staring at the odd rocks with inquisitive and trained eyes. Iron remained quiet and complacent behind her, letting only the sounds of the forest behind them keep silence at bay.

The minutes trickled by, slowly pooling into hours, the sun above tracking the passage of time. The pair had moved down the ravine, looking for new sections to study, new areas to inspect, but never speaking a word to another, aside from the occasional grunt or motion.

The Professor flicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, knowing that time was running short of the day. She knew Iron would likely request a departure after her little speech to him, even if just to cool his head. It was disappointing, to be sure, but inevitable as an empty return from a search.

Her eyes scanned over another rocky wall, marked with small marks of chalk and fallen rocks. It was a common combination of sediment in gorges, especially near lively places of development. It was a common mineral to build up following industry…

“Iron Wit,” the professor spoke her student’s name for the first time in an hour. He responded only by trotting closer to her. She motioned with her horn towards the wall she was examining. “What do you see there?”

The stallion stared at the wall as intently as his professor had, still dedicated to his work even when emotions weren’t optimal. It was another good quality to have. His tongue traced the edges of his lips, wetting them, before he responded to the older mare.

“It looks like a collection of chalk deposits. That’s fairly common around this area, especially following the departure from the Castle of the Two Sisters.” He concluded with a scholarly tone. Rightly so, as it was his training being put to the test. That was about when his face began to twist in confusion. “But the depth of the build up isn’t consistent with what you’d expect over a thousand years, even considering a change in climate conditions.”

“Exactly,” the professor agreed with a nod of her head. She turned to offer a coy smile to her student before she spoke on. “That means we just may have found something.” Iron Wit was caught uncomfortably between bashfully looking away and eagerly gazing forwards.

“So, we should go and get the tools, right?” Iron Wit ventured. “Maybe recruit a few other post-doctorates and graduate students to help us?”

“Not just yet,” the Professor spoke back, gaze glued to the chalky stone. “We have to promise them something first, at least for the board to approve of the digging, not forgetting the reservists who don’t want to see the Gorge dug up or closed off.” An unfortunate part of the job, but a necessary one to consider. Checks and balances for all things.

“Okay, alright,” Iron Wit agreed, wary of being shut down only a moment prior. “Then what do we do? Start digging?”

“Almost,” the mare said, nodding her head slightly. “We just have to look for a more clear sign that there is something here. Sediment is a good start; it always has been, but if we can find an anomaly, an object at best, we could really bring in the funding for an excavation.” Even as she spoke, the Professor had lit her horn, letting her greenish aura wrap around a few choice blocks. They weren’t large or clearly used for support, but such stones could be hiding anything.

“That makes sense,” Iron Wit agreed. “But… should I start digging with my hooves then? I mean, I don’t exactly have magic…”

“You’re an earth pony, Iron,” the professor replied in a droll tone, one she couldn’t help given the statement she found necessary to point out. “Feel the earth like I can’t. I’m sure it’s the reason you became an archaeologist.” The stallion only nodded before placing his hooves against the wall of the cavern, grateful he had worn his less-presentable clothes.

He felt the harshness of the rocks immediately, sharp edges digging into the sensitive soles of his hooves. Iron Wit adjusted them, shimmying along the edges until he found a forgivingly even section of the wall. The relief was immediate.

Iron’s hooves readjusted with his movements, pushing in a circular pattern against the hard rock, feeling the terrain in ways only earth ponies could. He could feel the hollow cracks between the rocks, likely there because of the freezing winters. He could feel the minute differences in bumpiness, a clear sign that there was more than chalk, granite, and sedimentary stone.

He could also feel something else.

“Professor,” he spoke his superior’s title with strength, earning her attention. She had a sizeable boulder in her ethereal grasp, floating in the air just beside her. “I think… I think there’s something hollow here.” Raising a brow, the professor trotted over to him, setting down the stone as she did.

“What do you mean?” She questioned. “As in a small pocket of space or an anomaly in the stone?” Iron Wit shook his head.

“No, I mean…” he spoke, unclear and unsure of himself. “I mean… I think there’s a very large hollow space here, behind the stone.”

That made the mare’s eyes widen.

She placed her own hoof against the stone, knowing full well that she would not feel what Iron felt. She was trained in a different form of magic than he was, with only a similar goal in common.

“How deep is it?” She questioned after a moment’s thought. “Can you tell the size? Shape? Anything else?”

“It’s... there’s probably foot of rock between us and it,” Iron Wit responded after adjusting his hooves some more, taking measurements in a way paper couldn’t describe. “But there isn’t an end, not that I can feel.” Despite the ease with which he spoke the words, there was awe in his voice. The older mare wasn’t used to hearing that.

Even in the grand halls of Canterlot, the most novice of Earth Ponies could at least tell where the smooth stone of the castle ended and the rough edges of the mountain began. For a room to be beyond his abilities to judge meant it was massive. And a massive room, buried beneath rock, suggested a discovery worth a lifetime of research.

The Professor was beaming.

“Move out of the way,” the mare ordered, albeit gently with her hoof on the stallion’s shoulder. Iron Wit obliged, settling back to four hooves on the ground before backing away. The Professor faced the wall, grinning at it with excitement. Iron imagined briefly it was how he must have looked when his thesis defense was successful.

Iron Wit watched as his Professor’s horn lit, a bit brighter than it had before. A small light of near-equal brightness appeared on the rock wall, nothing more than a dot. Slowly then, like moving with a scalpel, his Professor began to twist her head, rotating it in a slow arc. The light on the stones mimicked her motions, tracing the stone up and around, forming a near perfect circle. It took little time for the Professor’s head to return to its original position, bowed with her horn aimed at the wall. The wall itself looked the same as well, except for one crucial difference.

The light the Professor had traced around the wall had formed a complete circle, shining like a beacon of magical flares against the stone. Iron Wit looked to his Professor, seeing her smile the same as before.

“A simple spell I learned in my early years,” she answered the unspoken question. “It cuts through stone and glass smoothly. It’s mostly meant for sculpting or designing blocks for building, but it has its purposes elsewhere.” She flashed a coy smile to her student. “Just like sensing the earth for gaps instead of plants.”

“Right, that makes sense,” Iron Wit agreed only half-heartedly. The Professor turned her gaze back to the outline section of the gorge wall. Lighting her horn again, she enveloped the circular cut with her magical aura. With a small tug of her head, she grinned ecstatically as she found the section of rock yield, pulling out from the wall.

It was smoothly cut, flawless even, showing layers of sediment and deposit centuries in the making. Carefully, knowing the value in the rock itself, the Professor set it down behind her and her student. With her attention back on the wall, she saw just what Iron Wit said he felt.

Before them was an opening.

The two shared a look towards one another, the mare filled with excitement and the stallion with stunned astonishment. There was little to see in the hole itself. So little light from outside was able to creep through the rocks, it left the hollow interior nothing but a seemingly black hole.

“Come on,” the Professor spoke to Iron before trotting forwards. “Let’s take a look at this.” She was already through the stone wall before the stallion was able to collect his thoughts.

“W-Wait!” Iron Wit stumbled over his hooves and words. “Shouldn’t we get some tools with us before conducting a preliminary analysis! At least some more ponies to help us out?”

“Nonsense,” the mare easily brushed aside, her forward trot not slowing in the least. “We have to at least survey the sight. If we come back and find nothing but a hollow room, it will only damage our respective reputations.” Though nothing she said was inaccurate, Iron could easily sense that her excitement was more fixed on the incentive to continue forward.

It took little time for the two to be surrounded in darkness, eyes strained and only a small allotment of light to show the gray rock beneath their hooves. Iron shuffled uneasily, not fond of the idea of feeling his way through a seemingly ancient cavern. Thankfully, the Professor was a hoof ahead, never missing a beat.

Her horn began to glow again, lighting with another brilliant green aura. Its gentle glow was able to show her eyes shut, head hunched in concentration. Iron watched soundlessly. At the tip of her horn, a small ball of white light began to glow. It was bright enough that the stallion had to look away, or else be blinded.

Iron heard his professor give a small grunt of force, then he felt the brightness of the light begin to fade. Risking a peak, he saw the light rise and ascend in the cavern, drifting higher and higher, far beyond what either of them expected.

When it finally did stop, the light it gave off illuminated far more than what either student or professor could have hoped for.

In front of the pair stretched a cavern of immense size. The top of the rocky dome was hardly seen, even with the light of the unicorn’s magic raised high above them. The far wall was out of sight, if there even existed any. All the student and professor could see were the walls that wrapped around them, disappearing into the darkness where the professor’s light couldn’t reach.

What the light did reach, however, was astonishing.

Like grids on a map, sections of a city, an entire island opened up beneath the professors light, enclosed by the walls of the cavern. Not just an island of rock or debris, but an almost carefully preserved mass of land, complete with buildings, monuments, and structures that no amount of time passed could have hoped to build and preserve.

It was incredible. Near the Canterlot student and his professor resided a chunk of the past, a few hundred years at least. The entire spectacle was astonishing, complete with buildings made of cobblestone and thatched roofs. There were only a dozen buildings at most, spread apart like a town square, but enough to establish a clear community.

Beyond the cobblestone homes, far off to the right, lay a large house, easily the size of the square itself. Unlike the houses made of hay and stone, this was made of wood, or so the faint light of the professor allowed the two to see. It was built oddly, rising up roof after roof after roof, as if each floor had its own roof to go with it.

Then to the left, apart from the almost house-like buildings, there was an island. At least, the professor assumed it was one at one point. What few buildings there were sat on a raised section of land, a bridge crossing the gap between it and the rest of the many other parts of the cavernous lair. Boats even sat, crookedly and misshapen around its edge.

Then at the center, like a great monolith, sat the most impressive structure of them all: a castle of gray stone. It appeared more ancient than the castle of the two sisters, sections fallen off or decayed, but others were still gleaming, shining almost under the faux light of the professor. It was like a monument of some long forgotten past, now more legend than history.

The rest was indescribable.

“This… this is amazing!” The professor shouted, face lit with joy. “I-It’s wonderful! Magnificent! Impossible, even!” She laughed, genuinely laughed, at the thought of it all. “This was all just hiding beneath the Everfree Forest? Heck, this place looks to be the size of the forest, maybe even larger!” The professor trotted into the ruins, her blissfulness brighter than her magic.  

“Pro… Professor, wait!” Iron Wit followed behind his mentor, forcing himself out of his shock to follow in suit. She didn’t seem to allow something as simple as shock to quell her discovery.

“This place is marvelous!” The professor continued as they quickly approached the almost town-like area below. “It has characteristics unlike any period of history recorded thus far! The doorways stand at least four times the height of even the tallest ponies, the roofs are held by tile and thatched hay, even the ground is made out of cut and cemented concrete!” She laughed as she finished her analysis, caught believing she was living a dream.

“Professor!” Iron Wit tried collecting his superior’s attention again, but he found it was for naught. Truthfully, he was terrified. Ignoring the dark shadows the Professor’s light strung light seemed to create, ignoring the ominous and seemingly vacant space the cavern hung above the two like an empty night sky, even ignoring the absence of sound that seemed to deafen his ears, Iron Wit could not ignore the permeating feeling that they were... trespassing.

“And not to mention the sheer size!” The Professor let out again. Normally, she would have expected her voice to echo in a cavern, a cave, or any underground structure. However, the magnitude of the cavern made it impossible.

“I mean, look at this!” She let out again, the two promptly marching into the first town in the cavern. “There couldn’t be any more than a dozen buildings here, and even accounting for size, it’s hard to say a community larger than a few families would be able to live here!”

The Professor practically jumped and skipped around what appeared to be the square, staring at each building like it was a lost artifact to time. In fairness, they likely were. That did nothing to quell Iron Wit’s nerves, however, as she put her nose only a breath’s distance away from one of the ancient buildings. Her eyes lit up with a whole new light as she spotted something else.

“Look at this!” the Professor exclaimed with barely-contained excitement. “It’s all been preserved with magic lacing!” It was not a declaration that overrode the shock still welling in the young Iron Wit.

“A-A lot of past archeological sites have been that way…” He meekly let out, not wanting to placate or exasperate the Professor in the midst of her apparent intellectual high. Iron very well imagined he would find every emotion the Professor was experiencing would wash over him in a short amount of time. The shock and awe was merely keeping it all at bay. At least, he hoped that’s what it was.

“But parts of it are fading. Fading!” It would have taken a lot to get the stallion’s attention, but that did it.

“W-What?” It was Iron Wit dumbly replied.

“Look!” The Professor addressed with her hoof pointing towards a section of the building.


“This is supposed to last an eternity, yet it has clearly eroded away in areas around the structures. But then!” Her hoof pointed towards another one of the many spotted sections of the lands, lacking no sign of time or decay. “Others look as if they were sculpted only yesterday!”

“But… w-what does that mean?” Iron Wit, despite being in what was possibly the find of the century, was still stuck in the stupor of surprise. His professor, however, more than made up the excitement between the two of them.

“It means this place is so old that the magic cast on it has had time to wear off!” It was such an obvious conjecture, but as all professors knew, the most complicated of knowledge stemmed from the most hardened of facts. “That means that even the princesses casting their magic a thousand years ago have not seen the effects of magical decay. This predates anything recorded history has even written, possibly ponies themselves! Not only that, it could even have something to do with the unusual growth of the Everfree forest!” The professor began to laugh again, leaving Iron Wit wondering just how happy that should make him. He elected to simply ask the most obvious question of all.

“But… what is this place?”

It was almost whispered off of his voice, hardly enough to be called even a mumble, but it was just loud enough for the Professor to hear him, and it was just wise enough a question to quell her near manic laughter. Even with the faint light above, it was clear she was still smiling, upon her lips and within her eyes, but not she too was thinking of that obvious question, and somehow impossible to find answer.

What was this place? What was this to a civilization they couldn’t even name, to a people they couldn’t imagine? Why was it here? Why was it buried?

But then above all of that, what was it called?

“I... haven’t a clue,” the Professor admitted, though still smiling coyly at him. Iron wit was more than a bit unnerved by the shadows casted upon her face, the fault of the solitary light high above them. “But that answer can be found with some skilled geology; making a picture out of the pieces of the past.”

Iron Wit couldn’t argue with her on that. In fact, the idea made him smile a bit himself. He always had enjoyed puzzles.

The professor waved a hoof before continuing. “But come on, there is so much more to discover here, so much left un-” The mare’s voice dropped off and fell, stopped as a sudden and shocked gasp forced its way into her.

It was hard not to react when the light above them was suddenly snuffed out.

Iron Wit found himself still as a stunned possum, solid enough to rival the walls around him. They were, however, impossible to see in the impenetrable darkness.

“P-P-P-Prooofffff….” Iron Wit meekly and horrifically failed to call for his professor, leading to him caught with his lips between his teeth, staring wide eyes at utter darkness.

“I’m here,” the Professor replied, lacking any of the joy she had earlier but clearly full of caution. “I apologize for the sudden darkness, but my magic was meant to last in the least another few hours. I can’t imagine why it would fail suddenly like this.”

Iron’s jaw worked uselessly to try and demand she cast the spell again, succeeding only as far as getting his lips unlogged and jaw gyrating in a slow circle. He could hear his professor trotting in front of him, looking for something he couldn’t see. Then again, he doubted she could either.

“It… It seems like my magic isn’t working.”

Horsefeathers.

“What?!” the Stallion only succeeded in getting out the breath of air, all of his terror expelled outward in the syllable.

“Don’t worry your mane off,” the Professor spoke in her classical tone, far from the jovial words she was yelling earlier. “It’s probably just a lack of an ability to concentrate, probably my own fault, I’ll admit. But we are perfectly safe in here, just as these buildings have been for who knows how many years.”

It was a logical point, a clear point, one that Iron Wit shouldn’t have to argue with. Yet, he couldn’t help but think the professor was the one in the wrong here. He wanted to leave, immediately. But there was another problem about that.

He couldn’t see the way out.

Whether it was blocked by one of the buildings they stood around or if a boulder had unfortunately clogged the path again, the light from the entrance was nowhere to be seen. For as many times as Iron Wit was telling himself not to panic, he could think of an equal number of reasons to do exactly that.

“Iron Wit,” his professor spoke to him again, just to his left. “Just calm down, I can practically hear your heart beating through your chest.” He mewled at the words, leading to the professor to let out an exasperated sigh. It was made only worse when he heard her giggle.

“I’m…. I-I-I’m…” His jaw kept locking up as he attempted to apologize, unable to finish. All he got in return were a few more jovial laughs, deepening his blush. They came from his right, hidden just as well in the dark as everything else…

Something was wrong.

The professor was… to his left…

Not his right.

Iron Wit started to sweat bullets out of his skin.

It turned into a scream as a torch sprung to life just beside him.

It was a childish scream, one with more estrogen than testosterone, but it was high, shrill, and loud enough to echo even in the vast cavern. Iron fell to his knees, curling into a ball in fright. He hid his eyes from the flames that licked above him, waiting for whatever horrific creature was beside him to end him quickly.

“Iron. Iron!” He heard his professor cry, but he couldn’t care. She was going to be dead soon too, just like him. They both were. Whatever had lit the torch was going to-

“Iron look at me!” Iron felt his hooves pulled away, leaving him staring into his professors angry gaze. It was almost enough to make him forget about the monster that was just beside them, torch above them. “Iron there’s nothing there!”

She forced his hooves down, making him look up at her. He could see the torch then, held on the end of a wooden pole and hovering above them. It may as well have been the candle signifying his life. He felt the tears begin to pour down his face.

“It’s just a statue!”

And indeed, it was a statue.

Iron looked up at it, staring at it like a terrified foal. Only his gut on the cold ground, he saw the statue standing above him, torch in hand and its other folded behind its back. But that was one of the curious parts about the statue already. It wasn’t a pony or dragon, not a donkey or mule, not a cow, a buffalo, griffon, or anything else that could have possibly come close to creating the vast structures of the cavern. In fact, Iron Wit wasn’t quite sure what it was.

It stood on two legs, and extremely tall at that. It was straight as a board, reaching nearly the height of two ponies standing on the backs of one another. The clothes edged into its body were long and simple; a white short, orange pants, and a long orange-red coat. All appeared to be just as well preserved as the parts of the grand cavern that were still laced with magic.

Except its right eye.

Though its face was different than that of a pony. Too smooth, too free of any protrusions, and too plain for most tastes, its right eye was gray as stone, carved and edged with what was likely a knife, unclean and unrefined.

“It’s just a statue,” The Professor repeated. “I don’t know how it got there. I don’t want to find out how it did, not yet.” She was sounding surprisingly breathless despite not having moved more than a few feet herself. “We… we should leave.”

Iron Wit couldn’t agree more.

“Deary me, leaving so soon?”

The voice made the two ponies freeze, the blood in their veins cold as ice.

“And here I did the kindly thing to bring you a bit of light. I thought you might’ve appreciated it.”

It was impossible, even in the realm of magic, even in the realm of impossible! It wasn’t cool, it wasn’t right, it wasn’t anything that could be remotely accepted as good in even the most generous of lights.

The statue was speaking to them.

“What would you two happen to be?”

It was too much for the young stallion, simply too much for his frail heart and courage, or lack thereof. He was shocked silent by the find of the cavern, shocked still by the sight of the island, and shocked frozen by the vanishing of the light. But this, the very appearance of a talking statue, smiling almost coldly down to the, was the final straw.

Iron Wit fell to the ground with an unceremonial thud.

“Oh, is he going to be alright?” The statue looked at the professor with a ripe smile on its face. The professor didn’t answer, not immediately. “Is there a problem? I promise I don’t bite. My teeth aren’t even real, see?”

To emphasise the point, the statue pulled back its stone lips, revealing nothing but the outlines of what were likely supposed to be teeth, though as it said, there were none. Only what looked like chalk lines above its stony and painted surface.

“Chalk…” the Professor repeated, seemingly a state of near catatonic shock herself. The statue didn’t seem to mind.

“It has been some time since I was able to skip around quite like this. I’m not sure precisesly how long, though.” It twisted its body as if stretching, bending over as it was twisted around. It made for an eerie and unsettling position of it looking into the sky, or at least the direction. “Would it happen to be night right now? It’d be troubling if I couldn’t see the stars at night.”

“Night…” the mare repeated. “No… no, no, you’re in a… cavern.” It took her far longer than usual to piece the words together, though she still found the fact that she was talking to a statue near-incomprehensible. It righted itself as it looked back at her, smiling as it stood well above her head.

“A cavern? Really? It must have taken some effort to move the island into a cave.” It giggled at that, for what reason the Professor couldn’t tell. “Well, I do say you look to be a knowledgeable creature. Would you be able to tell me where we are?”

“We… We’re located under the Everfree Forest, approximately a three miles from Ponyville and one hundred twenty-five from Canterlot. We are also near 400 feet below sea level and located outside the Ghastly Gorge.” Rather than stop her, as the Professor expected it would, the statue merely nodded at her words, memorizing them like an attentive student.

The grin on the statue’s face, however, scrambled the image in her mind.

It was only when she saw its other hand that she realized it was the same color as its eye: gray and cracked as if made from ancient stone. It very likely was.

“Good to know. It is such trouble to be lost. I thank you for righting me in that regard.” It gave an elaborate bow, bending at the waist with straight legs, stopping only when its upper body was parallel with the floor. The Professor took a step back, wariness rising.

“It is… quite alright.” The statue stood up quickly at her words, waving a finger dismissively.

“No, no, no,” it responded. “We can’t have that. It is proper to pay back what one owes. That’s extremely important.” Its hand came to rest on its chin again, looking up to the cavern ceiling it couldn’t see. The crackling flames on the torch gave his plain face an eerie shadow.

“Ah,” it let out as if seeing a light bulb flicker in its head. “I know just how to repay you!”

“And…” the Professor began slowly, gulping down an empty ball in her throat that. “That is ho-”

She got no further.

The statue had its hand about her throat. A moment later, she was dangling above the ground. The statue’s cheerful eyes stared deeply at her, illuminated by the torch.

“By helping you along in your own journey.” It spoke with the same tone as it had before, as if it wasn’t slowly strangling her, as if not currently murdering her. “After all, you living things have go to the same place one way or another, don't you?”

It giggled at its own words, dropping the torch to the ground. The wood clattered, rolling along the floor.

It went out, and the cave was draped in darkness.





“Ah, it feels good to be out of that place.” The statue spoke aloud, stretching its stone back with widespread arms as it walked in the long-awaited sunshine. “And just look! We can see the sky again.” It pointed upwards, marveling at the endless blue and puffs of white.

“Now, let’s see, that colorful creature said we were close to a place called... Ponyville.” The statue put a hand to its chin again, concealing its smile as it thought. “Trouble she didn’t mention which way, huh Arma?”

The statue focused its attention behind it, staring at a boulder sticking out from the rock wall. On it sat a black bird, pecking at one of its feathers. ‘Black,’ however, didn’t nearly seem to fully describe it: there were black talons with black feathers complete with a black beak all attached to a black body. Even the night itself would be jealous of the darkness this small bird seemed to possess.

Aside from the red eyes that stared back at the statue.

“Well, we can’t stand around here forever. We’ve done enough of that for a while, haven’t we?” The statue giggled at the words, lightly closing its painted eyes. The bird took the time to jump and fly over, landing on its shoulder soundlessly. The statue only reacted by turning its attention to the dark avian creature.

“So, what should we do, then?” He asked the bird again. “Search the high forest, or risk a direction for this so-called Ponyville?”

The black bird sitting on its shoulder twisted its head, silently regarding the statue beneath its talons. The silence lasted for only a moment longer before the statue began to cackle, leaning over himself with the force of his laughter.

“Ah ha ha ha! Yes! Of course, Arma!” The statue congratulated its pet, grinning at it with the same smile had worn before. “That’s a brilliant idea. I can always count on you for such devious plans.”

The bird didn’t react to the excessive movements, not even the jubilant laughter. It merely sat on the statue’s shoulder, looking at the gray eye that looked back at it.

“I suppose we are off then, gone to explore this strange new world.” It sighed as it finished, a needless act for one that didn’t possess breath. “But we have to be careful now, so much more than before. Painfully so.” It looked at the bird, only slightly losing the smile etched upon its stone face.

“We can’t make that mistake again, can we?”

The statue statue walked off through the gorge, whistling to itself as it did.

The cave behind it was covered by a boulder once more.
> Chapter 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The simple things were what made Fluttershy’s day a happy one, small things that other ponies might complain about.

There were no issues with her rising this morning, beating Mr. Rooster to his usual call and setting out the food for the animals before any of them started to get restless. Even Angel Bunny, the usually picky eater, had no issues with his carrot and grapes salad today.

The morning routines were just as hassle free.

Unlike most mornings, all of the animals’ food supply were in their proper places, filled up and ready for eating. It took little effort on her part to lay out the seed and corn for the animals in her garden to enjoy, each of them digging in with joy. Them eating gave her enough time to clean out their pens and refill their water, finished before they returned home. It was even to her joy to see the grass already cut, though it usually was maintained thanks to a few goats that found the grass about her home particularly appetizing.

Even now, all she had to do was take back all of the empty buckets from their respective pens for the next day, and her morning would be all set. She might even have time to beat Rarity to their daily spa date. The idea of outdoing the dressmaker’s punctuality made her giggle.

It was, without much thought needed in the canary pegasus’s mind, one of the most enjoyable mornings she had had in a long time. Few worries, no accidents, and just enough happy faces on her cute little animal friends to be taken as a “thank you.”

Fluttershy was loathe to admit it aloud, be shecould honestly attribute the ease of this morning’s schedule to the lack of Discord’s presence.

She was thankful for the draconequus, helpful where he could be though mischevious were not meant to be. He had made a few select adjustments about the house that benefitted many of the critters that often made her home their own home, though at the expense of scaring a few for a small laugh. He smiled every time she reprimanded him.

Still, it was common for him to throw the metaphorical wrench into Fluttershy’s daily activities. Sometimes they were as small moving the food for the animals do a different shelf, but other times as drastic as making them switch bodies. The pegasus could still vividly remember the time Mr. Bear came hopping up to her like Angel Bunny.

Fluttershy was kind as ever to him though, treating his antics with seldom more than disapproving words and a furrowed brow, but still offering him three meals a day and a warm bed to sleep on, though he did prefer to sleep on the ceiling.

Princess Celestia had to “borrow” him, as he put it following a meeting with the diarch. He sounded chipper as ever, making the few unnecessary jokes of wondering how many chances it would take for them to learn. It was just a small trip, bureaucratic, as the princess had clarified. She simply needed to prove to a few other leaders that Discord was a changed draconequus, no threat to any pony, griffin, or dragon. Discord never stopped laughing when the princess said “no threat.”

He had left with little issue, leaving Fluttershy with a temporarily vacant room and a fresh morning free of interruptions. It was enough to let the canary pegasus relax with a smile.

That was until a black bird swooped into her vision.

“Eep!” the squeal immediately escaped. She dropped the empty bucket she was carrying, letting it fall to the grass with an almost silent thud. Her eyes darted as her wings stood up on end, prepared to take her to the air in a moment’s notice. But nothing threatening came.

There were no ominous caws, no dangerous objects around her, nothing but a few animals dashing around the garden or perched up in a the trees. But Fluttershy saw it then, out of the corner of her eye.

It was a black bird, nestled on the post of the pigs’ pen fence. Its wings were folded against its body and red eyes looking directly at her. Fluttershy stared back at it, unsure of where the avian creature had come from.

“H-Hello?” Fluttershy questioned aloud, hesitantly holding a hoof out towards the bird. It did little more than twist its head at her. Fluttershy swallowed a ball in her throat. Something wasn’t right. There were no genetic lines in ravens that allowed for red eyes, not without some sort of infection. The idea gave the pegasus a different kind of fright.

“Oh my… are… are you alright?” Fear was pushed away inside Fluttershy as worry began to take its place. She was a caretaker above all else. Seeing an animal possibly in pain was enough to set aside any of her unease.

She took a few hesitant steps towards the dark raven, it doing nothing more than stare at her, occasionally cleaning one of its dark wings. Fluttershy put aside the observation that she literally couldn’t see anything about the bird but blackness.

“Oh no, maybe it can’t hear me…” the thought was terrifying, even as she spoke it aloud to herself. Fluttershy was having trouble naming any diseases that affected hearing but also causing redness of the eyes. At least, such a vibrant redness.

It took little time for Fluttershy to approach the raven, it still perched on the fence post and her hooves hovered around it. She was nervous to touch it, worried that whatever illness the bird may have could make it dangerous to touch. Yet, it didn’t. The bird did little more than stare at her, cocking its head but never opening its equally-dark beak. It seemed incapable of uttering so much as a caw.

It only made Fluttershy feel worse.

“Oh dear,” Fluttershy spoke to herself, concern deepening with every moment. “You must be very sick. Don’t worry, I can take good care of you.” Her worry pushed aside once more, Fluttershy held out her hoof for the bird, familiar with the motions of perched birds transitioning from one point to another. The bird gazed at her hoof for only a moment before hopping onto it, doing nothing more than staring at her after she did so.

“You have energy though, that’s a good sign.” Fluttershy noted the bird’s physique, continuing to speak to herself. “But we must do something about your eyes. They look like they’re infected with something.” Fluttershy bit her lip in thought, the bird’s well being at the fore-front of her mind.

“I see you like Arma.”

The voice came so suddenly that it caused Fluttershy to squeak again in fright. Her wings shivered as they perked up, the hairs on her coat standing on end. In the flash of a moment, she was in the air, eyes wide and dilated. In the next, she was huddled into the ground, staring up and around her like a scared puppy, the bird on her hoof taking flight at her quick movements.

She was very scared.

Yet, as long as her blue eyes searched, she couldn’t find the pony that had spoken to her. Nopony was around or above. Only the small black bird, silent as ever, staring at her with a twisted head and eyes of red.

Her perked ears heard a small snap, nearly bringing another eep from her throat as her eyes darted with her head, looking up into a tree nearby. Even with the high sun, it was near impossible to see into the canopy it made, the foliage too thick to make out the greater details. But slowly, as she knew they would, Fluttershy’s eyes began to adjust, allowing her to see in the darkness. In it she saw a thing she did not know.

It had no familiar shape, no design of structure common amongst any other species of animal she was familiar with. It was tall, yet thin, lying on two branches with its opposite ends. The end of the thing had arched hooves, something similar to duck, but they were far too small for a figure so tall. But then the other end, leaning on a different branch, was far more familiar, possessing two forelegs and a head like most other animals.

It was garbed in a large coat; that much Fluttershy was sure of. It hung from its shoulders, draped over its body before hanging loosely from the assumed-to-be waist. With the height of the tree and gap of the branches, it seemed more like a curtain. Fluttershy had only just let that thought pass through her mind before the creature moved.

Scared stiff and silent, Fluttershy did nothing as the creature moved its foreleg, losing one end of its support. Swiftly, it started to fall, spinning around the branch its hooked feet were upon. They too lost their position, leaving the creature to fall from the tree. It remained stiff as a board as it fell.

Then, with a light thump, it hit the ground, landing with almost gymnastic grace. It had a small crouch, face still hidden from her. The light, however, was shining on him far brighter than before. None of what Fluttershy saw made her feel any safer.

She could see it wore other clothes, presumably at least. Brown pants that ended at the end of its legs, dark boots that seemed to made of a single material, free of any stitch, a white shirt that collared at the neck, and a gray glove. Except… there wasn’t a glove. It just had a gray hand, a hand that seemed like more similar to a minotaur’s than a dragon’s.

Then, as quietly as it appeared, the thing began to stand to its tallest. It was almost ominous  in posture and movement, taking the time to make its thin figure seem titan. Next to Fluttershy, however, that took minimal effort. But what it did show to the pegasus were the now-revealed features of its face.

They were impressively blank. There was no beak for a mouth, ears upon its head, nose between its eyes, arcs in its cheeks, or any other easily-distinguishable feature. Everything about it seemed plastered, formed, carved in. Especially the gray scar that ran down its eye. But as much as such a figure would grab another pony’s attention, there was another feature of the thing that made Fluttershy shake in her curled position.

It wore a charmed smile.

“She likes you, too.”

Its voice was sing-song, as blissfully unaware of the pegasus’s fright as it could ever be. It walked towards her, each of its long legs swinging with approach. Fluttershy scooted away as fast as she could, belly dragging on the grass as she did so. The creature held up its hands when it saw what she did.

“Hey now, don’t worry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” its smile hadn’t changed for a moment as it spoke. It had stopped moving, however. “I was just looking for my dear companion over there. I’m glad to see you’ve already become acquainted with her.” The thing held up its arm, pointing behind Fluttershy.

The pegasus turned her head, still huddled deep into her crouched body, to see the black bird from before staring at her. It hadn’t moved from the perch it was on.

“I do apologize if she has been a bother to you,” the thing behind her continued to speak, sounding closer to her now than it had when she turned. “Arma has always been such a devious little bird.”

“A-Arma?” Fluttershy spoke the name questioningly, turning back towards the creature that spoke. Its eyes seemed a bit wider, but smile unchanged. It was hard for her to tell with the gray eye, the one that appeared to be made of stone.

“So you can talk!” It spoke the fact with such delight that it nearly made Fluttershy scoot away again. Almost. She was glad her home was nearby. “Here I was worried I’d have to do all the talking. I’m not sure you’d believe it, but I much rather listen to others than myself. It’s hard to learn if I do all the talking.”

Fluttershy blinked at the strange creature, staring at it cautiously. It… didn’t appear to be threatening, not beyond what Fluttershy usually thought of as terrifying. If nothing else, he was smiling; at least, Fluttershy thought it was a he.

“I’m… I’m very sorry, but who are you?” Fluttershy didn’t want to take another move until she knew what this thing was. It only giggled at her question, holding out its dull claw with a single digit extended.

The pegasus watched, enraptured as the raven, Arma apparently, landed on the gray digit, talons curling about it with ease. The thing’s other hand rose to meet the bird, petting it smoothly, matting its feathers. At least… Fluttershy thought it had feathers. Even when it was but a leg’s length away she couldn’t tell.

“I’m a traveler, actually,” the creature spoke again. “Wandering the lands for the sense of adventure. I was momentarily separated from my dear companion Arma here, but I’m glad we found each other so quickly.” The thing leaned back in its stance, balancing one leg as it held the perched bird above its head. Fluttershy was impressed a creature so tall could have such good balance.

“Bad, bad Arma,” the thing spoke with a joyful tone, waving its free digits at the bird. The raven didn’t react to the words or the gesture. “Always sneaking away when I’m not looking.”

“Ravens have a developed sense of curiosity above average for most avian species. She was likely trying to observe the new area.” The words were pulled from Fluttershy’s mouth before she could stop herself, her innate and well learned animal knowledge flowing forth. The thing turned and stared at her, an odd expression of joy and curiosity about its own face, even the gray eye. It made Fluttershy regretfully shirk in closer on herself.

“O-Oh dear… I’m sorry, I… I just thought it would explain why Arma flies away from you. She’s just curious.” The tone of the pegasus’s words grew more and more submissive as she spoke on, the creature as silent as ever, starying at with a grin that she couldn’t read.

Then it started to laugh, jovially at that.

“Why yes!” The creature spoke with a near shout. “I suppose she does enjoy the curious side of things. How remarkable of you to notice that.” The compliment returned some ease to Fluttershy, far more comfortable with something that appreciated her than scared her.

“Oh, um… thank you,” the pegasus replied with a small smile of her own. “But, I do think Arma might also be sick. Her eyes are unnaturally red.” The creature was quick to dismiss her words.

“Oh no no no no,” it spoke with a wag of its finger. “Her eyes are perfectly fine. I’d wager they’re even better than mine!” It didn’t laugh at the joke it made. “She was just made this way, carved from stone just like me.” That, however, could not be ignored.

“Carved?” Fluttershy repeated. “Like… a statue?”

“Why yes, of course!” The creature spoke, letting its arms extended outwards. Arma didn’t seem bothered by the action in the slightest. “Just your average walking talking statue, with a sense of wonder as large as my head. I’m told it’s quite large.” He laughed at his joke this time, and Fluttershy couldn’t help but joining in, giggling into her hoof.

She looked back, seeing her home only just behind her. She knew what she should do, and what she shouldn’t do, but somehow, she was more concerned with what she wanted to do. That was what made ponies happy, after all.

“Um, I have to go back to my house.” Fluttershy motioned towards the carved tree with her head. “I have to finish taking care of the animals, and I need some of the food in there.”

“Oh, but of course!” the statue replied easily, shutting its eyes and looking away from her. “I would hate to be a reason for your schedule to fall to pieces. Please, don’t mind me.” Fluttershy gave a small bow of thanks before turning and hurrying towards her home.

She could feel the statue following behind her. That was good, it would make the next part easier. When she was just by the door to her home, she turned and spoke the statue and bird once more.

“Would… would you like to come in? Maybe?” Fluttershy held the door open in front of gesturing with her bowed head towards the inside of her home. She hoped the poor statue would accept. She understood how horrible it could be to be lost. The very least she could do was help out.

The bright smile the statue wore continued to shine on her, making the pegasus feel a bit more sure of her decision.

“I’d be delighted,” the statue spoke with a great bow, arm folding over its torso as it did so. Arma didn’t as much as squawk from its shoulder as it bent. Intrigued, Fluttershy didn’t even see it adjust its footing.

She was excited. She couldn’t wait to speak with the statue some more.





It was business as usual in the Capital of Equestria. Ponies had problems beyond the scope of their reason so they sought the council of a princess they believed all-knowing. More than once Celestia wished such a delusion was true. At least then she wouldn’t have to do all the ponies’ answer-searching for them.

She was thankful for the odd case of property dispute or contract troubles. They were a nice break from the philosophical questions or hypothetical scenarios that ponies seemed to adore giving to her, seeking her wisdom for what to do. Should they open a restaurant? Go back to school? Start a family?

More than once Celestia wished she could simply ask them back if they wanted to live their life, but she couldn’t do that. So few ponies would readily accept such a question, most others seeing it as a dismissive question, perhaps even an insult. It honestly wouldn’t be far off from one.

But that wasn’t what she wanted, far from it.

No matter how often she may wish for a different schedule to guide her day, she could never turn her ponies away, no matter how small their needs were. She loved them just as they loved her. A thousand years and she had never felt the kind of joy that came from a pony’s grateful smile. She could never make enough memories.

“Please send in the next group,” Celestia spoke the words without eye contact, still staring at crystal boots on her hooves. She heard the clopping of hooves as one of her guards walked the chamber hall.

She had to ready herself, but not steel herself. Celestia was a diarch that her ponies adored, not a cold figure of absolute rule and authority. She was meant to be kind and patient with all, not tired and at the end of their metaphorical rope. She only hoped it would soon be time to set the sun, as she could almost hear her bed calling her.

“Princess Celestia,” the solar guard spoke, earning her attention. She looked towards the new arrivals with a patient smile, luminous eyes, and her ever-billowing mane. Her regal appearance was well practiced. “Two students from the Archeology wing of Canterlot University are here to see you.”

Celestia eyed the pair of ponies following the guard. Both were mares, well dressed and obviously dolled up to approach the princess. It was likely their first time seeing her, at least without a crowd around them. Their eyes were wide, staring hesitantly as they took careful steps forward. The look of trepidation was one Celestia had long since grown used to.

“It is, um… a pleasure to meet you, your highness,” one of the mares spoke. She had a blue coat with a striped white mane. It suited her, Celestia Idly noted; she was doubtlessly the object of much affection. “I hope we aren’t intruding on you.” Celestia couldn’t help but laugh softly at the statement.

“Not at all,” the diarch waved her hoof, gentle smile present through her words. “It would be hard for me to say you are intruding on me at a time where I am here to help.” The realization of what she said set in quickly, and the mare looked away bashfully. It was cute, undeniably so. It cemented the suspicion that many of the stallions in the University saw highly of her.

“We do need help, princess, but not for us,” the other mare spoke. She was older than her friend, but only slightly so. She at least had less tremor to her voice, likely from being more used to speaking to authority, and Celestia imagined her position as the princess was slightly above any common professor in the University. “Our professor has gone on an archaeology expedition near Ponyville, but she should have been back by now. She wasn’t alone though, her student went with her. But, what worries me is that she’s missed all of her weekly reports.”

“Oh?” Celestia questioned. It wasn’t odd to hear of a journey that had been extended. Great finds usually led to longer absence, but to go without message was not a positive sign. Celestia’s smile vanished, though she kept any scowl away. She stayed on point. “Who are they and where did they go?”

The two mares glanced at one another, sharing a conversation the princess couldn’t hear. They were likely close friends, given the way the interacted. Also, the fact that they came to see her together, Celestia figured, made that fact obvious.

“Their names are Professor Slate and Iron Wit,” the first mare spoke again. She really should have said her name by now, but Celestia was not one to needlessly interrupt. She never would be. “They left to start a pre-excavation of the Ghastly Gorge.” That raised once of the diarch’s brows.

“Ghastly Gorge?” The princess repeated. “Would you happen to know why they were searching such a treacherous site?” It was more out of curiosity than necessity, but she found small talk an effective method of easing somepony’s worries. That was just another lesson the centuries had taught her.

“Yes, we do,” the first mare spoke again. “Professor Slate said that she didn’t want to join any of the excavation teams around the Crystal Empire because it was, to quote her words, ‘too crowded’.” Celestia felt her smile return slightly at the words.

“The desire for solidarity in work is a common one to have.” The the princess nodded her head with the words, more than familiar with such practices. “However, I have difficulty believing she left for the Ghastly Gorge only because she wanted minimal interference. Surely something must have given her reason to explore there, of all places.”

The students exchanged another look, this time far longer and less sure. Before they had had their worries identified and shared, now they simply didn’t know. They were still conversing quietly, though Celestia patiently waited for them to finish. They were a thousand years too young to hold a conversation in Celestia’s presence without her noticing.

She saw the second mare, the elder of the two, very slightly shake her head. It was hardly more than a tremor, clearly denying something. The younger of the two, the blue coated mare, had a quick dilation in her eyes. They were hiding something, though the princess wasn’t sure what, or why, for that matter.

They were likely hiding some great find or clue the Professor had found, some indication that the Ghastly Gorge held a secret she might not know about. There were few other reasons for a Professor of Archeology to take to such secrecy with her students in tow. It was impossible to ask the students directly now, not without destroying any faith they had in her. Celestia was a leader, not a tyrant.

“She… P-Professor Slate had a hunch that an area like the Ghastly Gorge might contain old fossils in its trench.” A lie, and an obvious one at that. Celestia wasn’t fond of being lied to. Then again, the diarch could name very few ponies that wouldn’t mind it. She kept her face the same however, smile unfaltering as she narrowed in on the subject.

“Really?” She spoke dryly, though the students were too absorbed in their own fear to notice. “What was she hoping to find? Did she recently discover the remains of a fossilized creature?” The shock on the student’s faces was quickly replaced with relief. It wasn’t relief for the diarch understanding, however. It was for being given a way out. The observation slightly annoyed the princess, especially considering that two ponies may be in need of help.

“Y-Yes! That’s right!” The elder of the two spoke. Celestia only just now realized how her coat was lime green, accenting the blue of her companion rather well. They were likely more than students. Perhaps sisters. It made their silent conversation easier to believe. “We haven’t been able to find any records of it before, s-so the Professor wanted to conduct a more thorough dig by herself... And!,” the mare quickly added with slight panic. “And Iron Wit.”

“Hmm…” The princess hummed, her trap having caught the string of the loose spool the students had spun. “That is interesting, but mostly because the Ghastly Gorge doesn’t contain the sediment necessary to properly preserve fossils. Not without digging miles beneath the surface.”

Celestia watched as both of their hopeful expressions were dashed. Her own smile depleted as well. She could not look joyful at their discovery. It would send all the wrong messages.

“Now,” the diach continued, her tone far firmer than before. “I understand you two are worried for your professor and friend, as they must be for you to so readily seek my help.” Both ponies weren’t looking at her, both staring at their feet with dilated eyes and open jaws. “But you must speak honestly to me, or I can not honestly help you.”

The two looked at one another once more, their conversation much easier to read than before. Mostly because they were no longer hiding it.

“We’re sorry, Princess. It’s just that… Professor…” the younger began before swallowing on a ball in her throat. “Professor Slate found evidence that something was beneath the Everfree Forest.”

That single comment made Celestia’s brows raise. The student, however, was far from finished.

“She didn’t want to tell anypony, but she knew better than to keep a secret like that all to herself,” the elder spoke on. “We were with her when she left, and she made us swear not to tell anypony what she found.”

“She took Iron Wit with her because he was an Earth Pony, and the top of our class,” the blue mare spoke up. If there was any doubt Celestia had that the two were sisters, it was dashed. “She wanted to see if he could help her find anything she couldn’t with her magic. I-I don’t know if she even told him anything.”

“So,” Celestia spoke as she finished. “Is your fear that she did indeed find something, or that she was lost while searching for it?”

“We don’t know,” the lime green pony spoke up, forgoing the expected hushed conversation with her sister. This was the truth she was speaking. “Honestly, we came to you before any other pony in the University because… well, you do keep secrets.”

Intentionally or not, Celestia found herself laughing at the comment. It was not an accusation, not by any means, but it was humorous to hear a mare call her out for her private ways so openly.

“Jasmine!” The younger pony reprimanded. It took those words for the elder to catch on to what she said.

“Oh.” Terror quickly took root in her eyes. “Oh no, I-I-I’m so sorry your majesty!” The mare, Jasmine as it was, quickly put her head to the floor, begging forgiveness in posture and words. “I didn’t mean any disrespect. I actually meant it as a good thing! I meant that we can trust you to help us!”

“And help you I shall.” Celestia stood from her throne as she spoke. “Do not worry, I took no offense.”

The two sisters watched her approach, walking down the few stairs between them and the great stone throne. The diarch, tall and with wings widespread, was imposing enough to envelope them whole.  The solar guards on either side of the descending ruler gave her a glance, straightening their already solid posture, awaiting orders. Instead, however, she merely nodded towards them both. They each only blinked before resuming their stance, little having changed.

“I am curious of the evidence your Professor has found, as curious as I am as to what happened to her and her student.” A thankful expression crossed the sisters, both smiling up at her. “I must ask of you now to show me this evidence. If I have any knowledge of what it is, it may help us to find her.”

“Right, of course, yeah!” Jasmine eagerly replied to the diarch before turning towards her sister, grinning with a joy that only came from moments like these. “But… wait. Shouldn’t we look for them first?” Celestia’s smile retained as she nodded her head.

“Of course, but it would be more expedient for us to recruit a pony from Ponyvillle to search the Gorge. I am sure my presence alone would attract enough attention to ruin this… secret of yours.” A sheepish look overtook the mare once again.

“But… who are you going to ask?” It wasn’t uncertainty in the mare’s voice, but neither was it fear. It seemed closer to curiosity than anything else. That was a good sign. It meant that they already had trust in her. Celestia was thankful for that much, at least. Trust was something she cherished.

“A student of mine has a home in Ponyville,” the diarch cryptically replied. “As such, she is more than used to keeping secrets when necessary. I am sure she will help in any way she can. Does that suit you?”

“Yes, thank you!” Jasmine nearly threw herself at the diarch’s hooves, but was stopped by her own awareness, fore legs still partially outstretched as if in a hug. Celestia chuckled at the position and uneasy look the elder sister adopted. “I’m… sorry about that.”

“Think nothing of it,” the diarch dismissed. “I would be remiss to say that I do not care for hugs. They are as clear a sign of affection as any.” The smile she offered to the younger mares showed she had no falsehood in her words. Celestia had none in them.

“Okay, awesome,” Jasmine continued to smile as she nodded her head. She turned her attention to her younger sister before she spoke on. “Opal, can you run ahead and get what Professor Slate found?” Her younger sister, Opal as she was called, nodded before dashing off. Celestia watched her turn tail and gallop from the hall.

“Is what your professor found… large?” It was an innocent and honest question from the diarch, but it was one of only a few reasons she could think of for preparing evidence of a discovery. The shake of Jasmine’s head told her her answer.

“No, not big, just old.” The mare let out a dry laugh as she spoke. “Just really, really, old.”





“Would you care for some tea?” Fluttershy asked her guest politely, smiling with subtlety as she asked. Her guest, sitting across from her in an odd upright position, gave back its own broader smile before responding.

“Oh no,” it spoke with a wave of its gray hand. “Eating and drinking are things for… ponies to do. I actually would like to just talk.” Fluttershy nodded her head at his words.

“Oh my, you're right, I should have realized that,” the pegasus lightly cajoled herself with her bobbing head. “I’m sorry about that.” She heard the statue giggle across from her.

“Don’t worry, it was just a mistake. We all mistakes, don’t we?” Fluttershy looked up at the statue again, smiling at his words. It felt… easy to do so, requiring no force or convincing on her part to do so. It was nice.

Though she hid the majority of her features behind her long pink mane, Fluttershy didn’t feel the usual unease she did around others. Maybe it was because she was talking to a statue- or, two statues, she corrected herself. She curiously observed Arma, perched on the taller statue’s head. That could have been it, talking to things that weren’t other ponies, but maybe it was because the statue was smiling, smiling without trying to invade her personal space.

The pegasus took a seat across from the statue, sipping at her tea held between her hooves. The house around them was quiet otherwise, the rest of the animals running around outside, burning pent up energy from the previous night’s rest. That… and they were likely celebrating while they could in Discord’s absence.

“So, um… if I can ask, what’s your name?” It was a small question, an innocent one. She had seen Rarity ask it to many stallions and mares at her boutique. The statue only giggled lightly across from her, ensuring to the pegasus she made a proper choice.

“Oh, that’s not important,” the statue dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. Fluttershy felt her brow crease in confusion. “We don’t need names to have a talk. Besides, I hardly remember my own name.” The confusion in the pegasus turned to concern at a speed only she was capable of.

“Oh my!” she gasped, raising a hoof to her mouth in surprise. “That must be awful!” Despite the pain her words might inflict on another, the statue merely chuckled as it had done so far before responding.

“Not at all!” It responded jovially. “It frees up the space, leaves me room to learn more about the world. And after all, you can never learn too much.” It lifted its discolored hand, lightly tapping on the edge of its head with a gleeful smile. It was enough to ease a bit of the worry in the pegasus, but only a little.

“Oh, I guess… that makes sense.” In truth, it didn’t. Fluttershy wasn’t ready to judge, however. “I have a friend like that. She loves to learn.”

“Really?” the statue questioned, tilting its head to the side ever so slightly. “What does she enjoy learning? I’m partial to music.” Fluttershy felt another small smile push against her lips at the statement. It was such an easy question, it deserved an easy answer.

“A lot, actually,” Fluttershy found a very small giggle push through her lips as she thought of her friend. “She loves to read, and look into different subjects too. She’s very curious, something I’d be too nervous to do. Oh, but she is also very kind. She helps all the ponies around Ponyville whenever she can.” The statue nodded at her words, never once giving the idea that it was going to interrupt.

Fluttershy sipped at her tea, putting the empty china cup down. The statue leaned over almost as soon as it touched the table, stilling the pegasus. She didn’t expect it to move towards her, let alone so quickly. It’s gray digits wrapped round the small cup, lifting it as the statue leaned back in the chair.

Normally, Fluttershy would expect a guest to sit properly in their chair, holding any dishes in front of them or letting them sit on the table. That was not what the statue did.

The statue had one of its legs on the chair it sat on, the other extended outwards at a far length. One of its arms was wrapped behind the back of the chair, folding over the long cloak it wore. Its other hand held the cup it just grabbed, though ‘held’ was a loose term. It was balancing it, with only a single outstretched finger, and high above its head. It had its mismatched eyes settled on Fluttershy.

It was still smiling jovially.

“I must say, it has been some time since I’ve seen a cup quite like this.” Of all the statements it could have said, that was one of the last Fluttershy expected. The pegasus voiced such a concern.

“W-What do you mean?” The statue tilted its head before responding.

“Well, think about it. Why would I need any dish or utensil?” The statue answered with a question, though a simple one at that. It occurred to Fluttershy immediately what it was talking about.

“Oh, because you don’t eat…” she mumbled, looking away. It was starting to make her nervous.

Then it laughed, that jovial laugh she heard so rarely in her solo company. Whenever she did hear it, it was usually in a group of friends or a crowd of ponies. But here, it was simply the two and Arma.

“Oh, please forgive me,” the statue spoke as it untwisted its other arm, bending it back over the chair to let its open palm rest on its chest. Its head bowed slightly as well. “That was rude of me.” Fluttershy found herself shaking her head.

“N-No, its alright. I don’t mind.” The statue’s painted grin broadened at her words.

“Well, that is good,” it responded in kind. “But do tell me, is there anything interesting in this town?”

Fluttershy felt her head tilt at the sudden change in subject.

“Oh there I go again, being rude in front of such a gracious host.” The statue leaned its head back, pulling it over the chair as it made sighing sound. The position looked entirely uncomfortable to the pegasus. Then again, she was never one to judge.

“I-It’s alright,” the pegasus again forgave with no more hesitation than she took with all her actions. “I mean… surely you didn’t mean to be rude, a-and you did apologize. It’s alright.” The statue flipped its head back over the chair, its painted and scarred eyes both closed with a broad grin over its drawn lips. Fluttershy doubted that the smile ever left.

“Why thank you, for being so understanding. You’d be surprised how often I’m confused for some deviant or another.” The statue looked towards the bird on its head as the bird looked back down. “Though Arma here can be a bit devious, you silly bird you.” A silent stare was all the raven gave back in response. It appeared to be hilarious to the statue, as it laughed merrily at the silence.

“I-I don’t think you look… strange… just different,” Fluttershy was sinking further and further into herself the more she spoke. Any confidence she had at the beginning of this talk was rapidly depleting. Maybe she shouldn’t have pushed herself too hard.

“That’s awfully kind of you to say.” Fluttershy watched as the statue lowered himself against the table, holding its head above its laced fingers, staring at her with a much more subdued, though still present, smile. “Makes me wonder if you’re this kind to every stranger who chances upon your home.”

“Oh, well, a-at least I try to be,” Fluttershy spoke quickly in return. “I would feel just awful if I hurt anypony- or statue!” the pegasus blurted, fearful of offending her guest. The small rise in its smile told her no fault was yet committed. Yet. “I am the Element of Kindness. Being kind to others is what makes me happy.”

“Really?” The statue asked with a  rise in one of its brows, the one sitting atop it gray scarred eye. “What does that mean? I do apologize, but I don’t believe I understand.” Fluttershy, so used to seeing Twilight grow frustrated in the face an unobvious problem, was thrown momentarily by sheer joy to which the statue spoke of his own predicament. It seemed far too happy to be confused.

“Oh, um, I can explain, if you’d like, that is.” The statue rocked its head over its fingers, nodding at her without a change in its smile. Arma hopped from the top of its head, landing on one of the statue’s shoulders, silent as always.

“Um, okay, well,” Fluttershy began, sitting back in her chair. “The Elements of Harmony are very old but very powerful magical artifacts.”

With only that single sentence, Fluttershy was forced back as Karl nearly leapt up from the table, its smile broad, lips open, and eyes staring down at her in wonder. The pegasus felt her heart hammering against her chest, her wings folded tightly against her body, and her long pink mane now covering the majority of her forward features.

“Did you say ‘magic’?” The statue asked the question as innocent as ever, though succeeding little this time in relaxing the frightened pegasus. She only shivered as she continued to stare up at him. The statue held up one of its hands before it spoke again. “I do apologize again for my reaction, but what you said was most interesting.”

“I-It was?” Fluttershy answered weakly, no further out of the shell she jumped into than before. The statue, however, only nodded its head, much slower than it had jumped from the table.

“Of course!” It replied, jovially as ever. “It is has been quite some time since I’ve seen something magical. I was beginning to think it was nothing but fairy tales and pixie dust. Are those here too?” Fluttershy peaked her head out from her mane at the question. The statue was still smiling, and it had also backed a way a little from the table.

“Um… There are breezies, are those like the pixies you mean?” The question seemed to require a bit of thought on the statue’s part, as it straightened itself out and raised one of its hands to its chin, scratching at the painted stone idly. Its gaze wandered, staring idly up at the thatched roof of Fluttershy’s home.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” the statue finally concluded. “I suppose I would have to see one to know, but we can burn that bridge when we get to it. Now though, I have another question, if you don’t mind me asking.” It held out its hand in offering, symbolically as far as Fluttershy could see. The statue was still staring at her, grin permanently set to its lips and leaning over the side ever so slightly, as if it had no issue keeping balance.

“Um… I-It’s alright,” Fluttershy weakly agreed. In truth, she would rather have not, but the statue was still her guest and was at least being apologetic for its behavior. That was more than Discord or the Breezies usually did.

“Excellent,” the statue spoke as it lightly clapped its stone hands together. The sound irked Fluttershy momentarily, not expecting the sound of grinding rock. “I was curious just where these Elements of Harmonies are? I would love to see them before I continued on my little journey.” The statue bent sideways as it spoke, stiffly moving its hand in a slow waving fashion. The pegasus suspected it didn’t like to hold still.

“Oh um… I-I’m terribly sorry, but… they’re gone.” Fluttershy was fearful of the statue’s reaction, robbing it of its ability to see something it clearly had a desire to witness. “We had to return them a little while ago… Oh dear, I’m so sorry.” But rather than complain, or whine, and demand that the Fluttershy was hiding them, the statue did what the pegasus should have expected, but didn’t.

It sighed.

“Oh well,” it spoke with resignation, still laced lightly with a bit of cheer. “Can’t say I expected it to be that easy.” It turned back towards her, smile and eyes far more subdued, lacking the cheer they had up till now. Fluttershy bit her lip, not enjoying the idea of robbing a pony, or something, of what they wanted like that. That was when an idea popped into her head.

“Um, Twilight might be able to help you...” The statue tilted its head at the statement, its drawn lips lightly puckering, at least shrinking, at the statement. “She was the one who, um, helped us find them. She knows the most about magic, so I’m sure she could help you out.”

“Really? That’s wonderful!” Then, to Fluttershy’s immense surprise, the statue turned away from her. “Thank you again for the help!”

“W-wha… wait!” Fluttershy found herself calling out, too stunned for a moment to register than the statue was leaving. It did stop by the door to her home, one hand on the molding as it turned to look at her over its shoulder. Arma even hopped and turned around, beady red eyes staring at the pegasus.

“Hmm? Is something wrong?” The statue asked, genuinely confused. Fluttershy had to swallow a ball in her throat before she answered.

“Um, no… b-but I don’t want you to just leave.” The statue raised its other hand to its mouth, lightly covering the lines drawn across its face. It appeared to be thinking, but it was still staring at her.

“That would make this a problem wouldn’t it,” the statue mused lightly to itself before speaking to the pegasus, louder in volume and smile as broad as before. “Well, I do have to go, but I suppose I can answer a question you may have for me. I’m sure you must be brimming with them!”

In truth, Fluttershy had almost none. The statue was just easy company to speak with.

“Oh, um, what…” Fluttershy found her mind racing for a question. She should have had one, even an obvious one. But she couldn’t ask a rude question. The statue didn’t want to say its name, so it would be inappropriate to ask why. It would be even worse to insist, not to a guest she hardly knew.

But the statue wasn’t a complete stranger, not anymore. After all, it did say at least one thing about itself.

“What kind of music do you like?” It was the first question Fluttershy could think of that wouldn’t be rude. It was never rude to ask a pony what they liked. By the way the statue’s face lit up, the pegasus knew she asked a good question.

“Why, the violin!” Apparently the answer was so important that the statue had to spin at the declaration.

Fluttershy felt a small eep escape from her throat as the statue smoothly pivoted itself on its heel, standing at its tallest with arms spread wide and black raven resting on its shoulder. The brown cloak it wore billowed as it was spun with the body it was connected to. For once however, the statue did not apologize for its behavior.

Instead, arms again raised to its chest, it held its gray hand against its equally hard surface. Its other hand stretched outwards, as if offering something that Fluttershy couldn’t see. Her apprehension grew by the second. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

“The violin is such a wonderful instrument!” The statue went on to speak. “It can be played in almost any way. Either as subtle was the wind or as strong as a mountain. I can even remember the members of the park coming to hear me play.” Park? Fluttershy had never heard of him mention a park before. She wondered off-hoof if there were any animals there. Maybe that’s where it met Arma.

“They would look to me and say, ‘Play another Bach song, would you Karl?’”

Fluttershy watched, as the statue took to its name and froze solid. It didn’t take her long to figure out why.

“Karl?” She spoke the name questioningly, blinking as the statue stiffly turned its head toward her. Its smile was still present, as it always was, but it was… flatter than what it had been. It looked wrong. Fluttershy didn’t understand why. “Is that your name? That’s a nice name.” She found herself smiling softly, hoping to encourage the statue to do the same.

It did not.

“I... suppose it is,” the statue noted with an obvious tip in its tone, lacking much of the jovial nature that had made up their conversation thus far. Fluttershy was no more or less wary that before. “Though to be honest, I’m rather fond of the idea of changing it. What do you think of the name ‘Ginger’?”

Fluttershy felt any small amount of worry she had twist into confusion. To illustrate its rather oblique point, Karl held its coat out at length, holding it like one would a curtain.

“I think it would go rather well with my attire. And I hear it can be sweet to taste.” Fluttershy felt her mouth pucker at the thought of eating ginger like that. Karl noticed. “Am I wrong when I say that?”

“Um, I’m sorry, but… yes,” Fluttershy hesitantly spoke, disagreeing with his description of the spice. “Cinnamon is… tart and dry. It isn’t easy to taste. I-I don’t think it’s a sweetener, but I don’t usually cook with it… Oh dear, I may be wrong.” Fluttershy buried her head a little deeper into her mane, though mostly out of embarrassment. Oddly, she preferred it that way.

“Really? I heard quite the opposite, and I have spoken to a great many individuals,” The statue leaned over as it spoke, raising a pointed hand into the air. It, however, didn’t loom over Fluttershy as the pegasus momentarily feared.

“Tell you what, why don’t you find some and we can see? If it is sweet to your taste, I’ll be Ginger from now on. Do we have a deal?” The statue drew its hand back behind itself, extending the other colored appendage towards Fluttershy.

The pegasus stared at it, shaken with both confusion and fear, the emotions bundled together awkwardly. The combination rarely went well for her. But then she looked up at Karl. It… he was still smiling at her, looking no different than he had before.

Its name… His name didn’t change anything. He was already a friend to her, and he was treating her as one. The least she could do, if not even accept his shake, was to refer to him as such.

After all, he wasn’t a thing. Karl was another living creature.

Fluttershy felt a small swell in confidence as she reached her hoof out, tentatively at that. When it rested on the statue’s digits, he grasped her hoof gently, moving it up and down in agreement. He didn’t force her in any way.

“Excellent, now, do you know where any ginger is? I’m sure I’d only make a mess of your house looking for it.” The statement perked the pegasus up, realizing what he meant. Of course, she had to look for it. He was the guest.

“Oh, of course!” The pegasus spoke as she lightly jumped from her chair, walking on all fours with her long mane dragging behind her. She looked at Karl with an expression she hoped wasn’t pleading. “Please wait here. I-I’ll be back with it as fast as I can.” Without another word, Fluttershy turned tail and disappeared into the kitchen.





Fluttershy emerged from the kitchen only minutes later, cinnamon can in hoof and ready to test it with Karl. The pegasus would be remiss if she weren’t to admit she felt a bit excited. It felt like she was with the rest of the girls, asking odd questions and doing silly dares, all for the sake of a little fun and adventure.

It was even funnier when she remembered how much it all used to scare her.

“I’m ba-” the words died in her throat as she entered the living room, looking around with a confused blue gaze. Her mane lightly billowed left, then right, matching the motion of her head. Something was missing. Something, something obvious, was gone.

Karl was nowhere to be seen.

Maybe ‘nowhere’ wasn’t the right word. He could just be hiding. Fluttershy remembered how often Pinkie pie and Rainbow Dash liked to surprise her and the rest of the girls. She set the can down on the table, in preparation of any startling. She looked beneath the table, but found nothing. She moved to the windows, lightly moving the curtains with an out stretched hoof; still no statue.

“Karl?” She called the statue’s name out, fully expecting him to answer. Instead, she heard nothing but her quiet echo through the house. That wasn’t right.

“Karl?” The pegasus called again, walking through her house, eyes scanning as she moved. Still no trace of him.

“Karl?” The pegasus walked into her foyer, seeing nothing missing but also new. There was no one there, and certainly no statue waiting for her.

Where did Karl go?





“That was a close one, wasn’t it Arma?” The statue spoke to the bird perched on its head, silent as it ever was. “Almost had to take a few drastic measures. Not that we’d mind, would we?” Again, silence followed the statue’s question. It made laughter bellow from his etched mouth.

“Why yes, yes, I am well aware.” The statue spoke to the bird, smile bright with laughter. “But we can’t be obvious yet, never if preferred.” The drop in the statue’s tone was more than obvious.

It turned, looking at the house carved into a tree, the pegasus outside glancing around curiously, no doubt searching for him. She wouldn’t find him, not now at least. The statue had made sure of that.

“We have to be careful Arma, far more than before.” There was no jovial tone in the statue’s words now. Only fact. “There’s no more Castle to go back to. We can only move forward now. Speaking of!” With those last two words, the statue whirled on its heel, pointing a hand in the air as his voice took a jovial tune again.

“I suppose we should visit that pony’s friend. Twilight Sparkle, was it?” The bird only pecked the top of the statue’s head, as if trying to crack a nut. “Yes, that was it. Can’t be hard to find this time at least, a statue in the middle of a village? Must be an eyesore!”

He laughed as it began its walk, coat billowing behind it as a stray breeze caught the fabric. paid it little mind, and neither did the bird still holding strong on top of its head. They walked onward, and didn’t look back.
> Chapter 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“It says to do what, now?” Spike, the small green dragon holding a mop in his tiny claws, asked for clarification from the pony above him. Specifically, from the equally bemused but nevertheless loyal lavender alicorn.

“It says an Archeology Professor and her student are in the Ghastly Gorge for an archeology dig, and that I should be aware of their location,” Twilight repeated the message, sure that she had read it right the first time but equally sure that she was missing something. “I… don’t know why. I didn’t hear anything about any professors from Canterlot coming to Ponyville, let alone any archeological sites being established.”

“Yeah, I mean, I thought one of the professors from there would want to talk to you, being a former student and all.” Spike scratched his head, thinking as he spoke. It was true that he had a point, but it was another topic entirely that Twilight was concerned with.

It was midday, the pair having already marked off a fair number of chores and activities that needed to be accomplished, including the reorganization of some of the book sections as well as decorating the more spacious areas. In her humble opinion, Twilight felt that the statues of Star Swirl and Luminescent were appropriate additions to the crystal-like palace.

There was still more to do, and even as they spoke, Spike was organizing several other books donated to their library, setting them in stacks by the shelves in his own method of organization. Twilight trusted her young dragon companion, as he had yet to let her down. Having the majority of her schedule being taken care of, however, meant she could focus more on the letter in hoof.

It was far more common for ponies to come and go through Ponyville without speaking to her. A new castle and title didn’t add much to a town known for being open to every kind of pony. What was more concerning to Twilight was the area of supposed study.

She suspected that archeology would be a level of research attached to the Everfree, given the discovery of the Tree of Harmony and the Castle of the Sisters. But the Ghastly Gorge? It made no sense. It like attempting to explore the deep of the ocean by searching a nearby lake. Why investigate a nearby similar source when the objects of true mystery were just minutes away?

Twilight shook her head, magically guiding the letter to her desk. She knew that no professor at the University would take on something as time stacking as an archeological search without two things: proof and conviction. It was the proof that was driving at the alicorn. There had to be something that Professor Slate either found or discovered that made the Gorge a target.

It was already a done deal that Twilight was going to meet the professor. There was no other reason for Celestia to send the letter other than in the hopes that the newly crowned princess would at least seek out Professor Slate in some way. What she needed now was something to bring with her, something helpful that could contribute to whatever proof the professor had found.

The problem that Twilight had was that she couldn’t imagine what the proof was. Between the history likely lost or forgotten in the Sister’s Castle, or the magical remnants of the Tree of Harmony, Twilight couldn’t imagine what could be hiding in the Ghastly Gorge, especially after Rainbow Dash flew through it hundreds of times for practice.

Wait… Dash…

Her Pegasus friend was a pro when it came to memorizing details mid-flight. It was entirely possible she had the entire Gorge mapped out in her mind. The Pegasus had once confided to Twilight that memorizing course patterns allowed her to focus more on speed and less on predicting the next part coming.

It was a long shot, but it was entirely possible that Rainbow may have seen something, or at least be able to point her in the right direction. After all, Twilight knew the importance of using all available sources of information. Who better to ask about Ghastly Gorge than the mare who flew through it as often as the wind itself?

“Spike,” Twilight spoke to her dragon companion, earning his attention. “I’m going to get Rainbow Dash and head over to the Ghastly Gorge to meet this professor.”

“Didn’t the letter say that they haven’t been in contact?” Spike questioned with a tilt of his head. He pushed a book back into place along the shelves, always being conscious of keeping the library clean and organized, if only to stay ahead of Twilight inevitably messing with it during her research. “I mean, shouldn’t you look for them first? Maybe bring a few ponies or something?”

“No, that won’t be necessary,” Twilight easily dismissed. “There aren’t any hazardous terrains in the Ghastly Gorge that Rainbow Dash hasn’t implicitly memorized. I need Dash to help look for the professor and maybe donate any information she may have to assist in their dig, that is if they are okay. If anything is wrong, then she can get help from town faster than any other pony.”

“Huh,” Spike let out, setting down the books in his claw as he looked at Twilight with a small grin pulling at his scales. It was both an adorably and oddly off-setting sight for the alicorn.

“Spike?” She let out curiously. “Is something… wrong?” The dragon shook his head, dismissing any ideas the youngest of the princesses might have had.

“Nope, nothing at all,” He turned back to the half-filled shelf, adding the books by his side as he spoke. It was labeled ‘T-V History’. “Just thinking that you and Dash have been hanging out a lot recently. I’m almost surprised she’s not here now.”

“Who?” The hooting of Owlicious echoed above them, earning the attention of the pair. Spike looked up at his fellow aide.

“You know, Rainbow Dash, the pegasus with the rainbow mane, flies around all the time.” He waved his arms at his sides, imitating the wings of the pegasus as she spoke. Twilight successfully stifled a giggle at the sight. Owlicious responded as she suspected he would.

“Who?” Spike puckered his lips a bit, but decided to speak on still.

“She’s here like all the time now, sleeping on one of your ledges or asking about new adventure books to read.” What Twilight expected was for her owl pet to hoot its perpetual question, staring at Spike with its large golden eyes. Instead, her own eyes widened in surprise as the owl did what the alicorn had seen only a hoof-full of times before.

Owlicious nodded in understanding.

“You see?” Spike held up one of his hands, presenting Owlicious to Twilight as some undisputable form of proof. It was both a blessing and a curse that the alicorn took the owl as just that. “Even Owlicious agrees with me.” Twilight quirked a brow.

There was a half-truth to what her number one and two assistants were talking about. Rainbow Dash was spending more time with Twilight, not that either had any complaint. There was simply more space to fly around the new library, being nearly five stories high and easily wider than any simply grown tree.

It helped that with all the new donations being given to her, from nobles far and neighbors near, there were a lot more adventure novels to read, ones that Rainbow Dash eagerly took to. But the pegasus’s presence did make it easier to get a lot of work done, a phenomena that Twilight had already felt and realized long before. Solitude was beneficial only in a limited number of circumstances. Usually, the presence of another pony, preferably a friend, makes work less stressful and easier to manage.

Twilight sighed. She was getting off the task at hand.

“Look, I have to go look for the professor, and Rainbow Dash is the best mare to take on the job,” Twilight spoke, diverting the conversation away from the amount of time she spent with her friend. There were far more important matters to consider. “If everything goes well, I shouldn’t be gone too long, but believe me, you’ll be one of the first to know if anything’s up.”

“I know,” Spike responded faithfully, picking up his pile of books as he moved to another shelf in the library, small staircase already prepared for him to reach the higher shelf. “I should finish organizing this place before you get back. Promise.”

Twilight looked at her dragon companion, smiling at him as he tottered up the ladder with book in claw. She trotted the short distance to him, putting her own hoof on his head as she ruffled the un-mineralized scales atop his head. He did not approve of the gesture.

“Whoa, c’mon Twilight, what are you doing?” He poorly attempted to swat away her hoof, succeeding in only brushing against it with his minimal reach. Twilight couldn’t help but giggle at the display. Nevertheless, she released her hoof from his head.

“Just thanking you for the help,” the alicorn replied honestly, never letting her grin fall as she looked at her dragon assistant. The dragon only grumbled beneath his breath, turning away from the alicorn. It only gave reason for Twilight to giggle some more. It always was its own kind of fun to tease Spike.

Still though, she did have somewhere to be. Stepping away from Spike, Twilight moved to her desk, currently supporting the letter Princess Celestia had sent her. Instead of the letter, Twilight magically lifted and strapped her traveling bag about her carriage. Her horn continued to hum as she levitated several selected pieces of blank parchment paper, a few quills, and a bottle of ink. If she was going to a dig site, she was going to take notes.

“I shouldn’t be very long, so long as nothing has gone wrong. I’ll be sure to send a note if anything comes up,” Twilight spoke. She trotted towards the door to the library, taking a look over her shoulder as she left. To her expectations of her life-time assistant, Spike had already cleaned and stacked majority of the donated books, filling the once-empty shelves with a wealth of knowledge. It was like gazing into paradise for the studious alicorn.

“I’ll keep dinner warm just in case,” Spike called back, already finishing up the last of the books. “If I have time, I’ll be sure to clean the artifact display.” Knowing Spike, she didn’t doubt it.

“Thanks Spike, see you soon!” The princess called out as she left the room, trotting at a quickened pace through the hall and to the small palace’s front gate. It didn’t take long before she felt the warmth of her mentor’s sun on her coat and the light breeze of the air through her feathers.

She knew Dash was in one of two places. She was either sleeping in her cloud home or simply sleeping on a cloud. This time of day, at the sun’s peak, the pegasus loved to bask in the warmth. Despite the amount of energy the pegasus had, as required to be an athlete, Twilight knew her schedule well.

So Twilight trotted off, on her way to her rainbow-maned friend’s home as she searched the skies. It wasn’t long before the alicorn vanished into the Ponyville crowd, keeping an eye out along the way.

But as soon as she was gone and out of sight, another figure made itself known. Tall in stature and wry in smile, it watched the lavender mare trot off, silent as the shadows it stood within. When the princess was completely gone, it spoke aloud to no one.

“When the pony is away, the statue will play.” Karl giggled to himself, enjoying the lyric. “I’d say I was meant to be a poet, wouldn’t you agree Arma?”

The statue lifted his arm as he spoke, raising the bird perched on the gray portion of his wrist. The black raven quirked his head at the statue, silent as ever with only beady red eyes to gaze with. The silence was hysterical to the golem.

“Ha ha! Couldn’t have said it better myself.” The statue poked the beak of the raven with his other hand, grinning with laughter as he spoke. The bird returned more silence. “Well, we can’t stand here making jokes all day. We have business to take care of, don’t we?”

Once more the statue waited for the bird’s reply, staring at it with his mismatched gaze of painted black and vacant gray. The bird turned its head in the opposite direction, letting its other red eyes stare back at Karl. Only the wind and far off canter of ponies kept complete silence at bay. It wasn’t long, however, until Karl let his smile sharpen, gaze fixed on Arma all the while.

“Of course you do.”

Without waiting for ceremony or trepidation, Karl spun himself from the shadows, moving through the palace’s front door with not a sound but the shutting of the grand crystal doors. No mare or stallion saw him enter.

“Deary me, what a tall room she has here,” Karl noted with his ever-present grin.

He stared upwards, watching as the layers of the crystal tower formed a tall hollow pillar. For each layer outside there was a balcony within, noted by the crystal guards circling them, likely to prevent any pony from falling from the higher floors. They continued up once, twice, then thrice before finally ending with the spire, shining with the light of the day outside.

“There’s so much room that I have to wonder if we went inside at all.” Karl spun on its heel, watching the top of the room spin with him. He giggled at the display, watching as the crystal turned into a kaleidoscope of sorts. He stopped with easily, letting his long coat billow with the force he made.

“Hmm, now where would the books be?” Karl mused as he raised his gray hand to his mouth, signaling for Arma to jump from it to his shoulder. “That little pegasus did say there was one in her friend’s home, did she not?” He asked the question to Arma, who only tilted its gaze back at the statue. As always, the raven knew the kind of silence to keep to make the statue break into laughter.

“Yes yes, of course Arma, I could never forget that!” Karl spoke in reply, waving his hand as if to dismiss the memory the raven had conjured. “But we really must stay focused. After all, we can’t afford to make any mistakes, not yet at least.”

Deciding to move forward quickly, Karl approached one of the far off doors, placed beneath two large crystal pillars supporting the upper floors. The statue mused about breaking one, but dismissed the idea. Afterall, he couldn’t afford to be detected yet. Grasping the handle and pulling the door open, the statue ventured in without hesitation. He shut the large door behind him a moment later, leaving the room as undisturbed as when he entered it.

Spike wandered into the room a moment later, scratching his scaley head with his tiny claws, swearing he heard voices just before.





“Wow, on my first try.” Karl spoke the words with the same level of cheer that he said near everything, smile to match. But before him was an object that he was looking for, found in nearly no time at all.

The library stretched out before Karl, curling about the oval room in an almost dizzying shape. Every wall had a shelf carved into it, rising along the walls to heights several times the statue’s own. Each and every shelf had a book upon it, several in fact, stuffed into there was not a single piece of empty space upon them.

But the walls aside, shelves of books were lined about the center of the room, organized parallel to one another and, again, filled to the absolute maximum with books. The same crystal blue as the rest of the castle walls, they rose to match the height of the shelves along the walls. But despite the sheer volume of novels along the walls and on the stand-alone shelves, there was still more to be seen.

As in the room before, there were several levels to this collection of novels as well. A staircase stood before Karl, rising in the small pocket of space not taken up by the shelves of novels, leading the way to the level above him. And around the balcony that was on the higher levels, shelves were etched into the walls as well, each rising higher than before.

Karl walked to the center of the room, humming to himself as he spotted around the novels, noting the level of organization in them. The few libraries he had seen before were always cluttered with mismatched texts or piles of tomes set aside from the shelves, easy to kick away. Yet here, there was no such thing.

He spun on his heel, staring upwards once more. Where the kaleidoscope-like pattern from the previous room was of lavender and crystal blue hues, now the statue's vision swam with the colors of the novels, all-bleeding together like a cut rainbow. He mused how much that would be, to slay an illusion.

Eventually, he stopped, coming to rest while facing the casing that lined the far wall.

Though the walls were etched with shelves and filled with books, there were still pockets of open space, there had to be. Where else would they hang the lamps for illumination? There still wasn’t a lot, barely enough to make the library visible in a dark night, but enough to keep a stray reader from running into one of the many bookshelves.

What caught Karl’s mismatched eyes, however, was not the source of small illumination, but what was beneath it. As there had to be a pocket of solid wall for the lamps to hang from, there was then room for something else to be placed beneath it. Instead of more etched shelves or spare stands for reading, there were glass display cases.

The statue hummed to himself, walking towards one with a hand to his drawn lips in thought. Libraries for the humans usually had rare books or old artifacts displayed in such a manner, and these ponies appeared to have mimicked the humans well enough. It wouldn’t be a far thought for something worth investigating to be in the one of the cases.

When he was standing over the case, the statute let his drawn grin sharpen.

“Deary me, what have we here?” Karl bent closer to the display case, looking at the oblong object inside. He placed his gray hand over his chin, hardly concealing the wry smile he perpetually held.

The glass was a thin barrier, one the statue knew was about as secure as open air, but he peered beyond it carefully. The case inside was empty, as shown by the top being set aside and the interior of the object being exposed. There were intricate designs carved along the sides, six key holes by Karl’s count, each one sitting on a separate surface.

He could make out shapes that appeared below each of the holes, odd things that made no real point to him. Stars, balloons, apples, butterflies, things that all seemed rather mundane and unimportant, together or apart. Altogether, there was one word Karl could use to describe the box.

“Interesting,” the statue mused. He turned his head upwards, gazing at the black raven that sat on his head. “What do you think Arma? Anything to contribute?”

The bird looked back down at him, twisting its head left before blinking its red eyes, all as silently as ever.

“That’s a good point,” the statue acknowledged, still peering at the box. “We are in a library, let’s see what else there is to find, hmm?” He hummed the question to Arma, who only proceeded to spread its wings and take flight. Karl watched the raven before turning, looking at the many shelves that lined walls of the room.

“Books, the oldest and greatest way of saving the past,” Karl mused as he grabbed a spine from a bright green text. He pulled it from the shelf, staring at the cover as he turned it in his hand. It read ‘Basics of Lagomorphs’ on its cover, complete with the silver etched image of a rabbit. The statue opened its folds, reading a few choice lines along its pages before tossing the text behind him.

The statue strode down the shelves again, reading the small inscriptions beneath the works. By his drawn eyes, they were indicators of the books themselves, telling of their information in only the broadest of senses. Animals A-D, Animals E-G, Archeology A-B, Astronomy A-K… He paused. Archeology… now that was something.

The statue reached for one of the texts above the shelf, slipping an ordinary brown-covered book from it. It was thick, more so than the average tome the statue had bothered to flip through, but it had an interesting name to it.

“Statues of the Past?” The statue himself read, grinning as he questioned the title. “How terribly interesting.” He opened the tome, turning and leaning against the shelf as he did so.

The text was dominated by pictures, doubtlessly photographs from a vastly improved version of the device Karl has seen long ago. It was easy to tell, as the lines were too detailed, the colors lacking in vibrancy, and the many others unimportant details all captured with as much brilliance as the statue itself. Painters who had a subject tended leave such detail aside.

The words that accompanied the pictures were basic descriptions, telling of where the carved stone beings were found, where they were now, what they were meant to indicate, or even who sculpted them in some cases. None of the names meant a thing to the statue. He memorized them all the same.

Karl let his chalk-drawn lips grow as he observed the many statues, all beings far different than human, all seemingly fantasia creatures. Griffons with broad wings, Chimera with long necks, Dragons with sweeping tails, Cerberuses with gnawing teeth, but the majority were of the same equine species as the Pegasus he had spoken with not long ago. Despite their number, not a human was among any of their ranks. Curious, he mused.

The information that was written down outside of the many pictures gave only sparse information. Time periods the statues had come from, the influence for their craft, but far more interesting to the stone man, the small tidbits of information regarding their crafters.

He noted how the earth ponies appeared to dot the texts more so than the pegasi or unicorns, the text telling of their superior level of detail with things regarding the earth. They had gentler yet stronger hooves, more detail in the physical crafts, and a better eye for the type of stone to use. Karl would like to meet one of them soon. He was sure they bled all the same.

But between the lines, hidden amongst the pictures, was a supposedly secondary, needless even, piece of information. To most of the ponies that he was sure had read the text, it was something they were already fully aware of. For him, however, it was a piece of information more valuable than all the foolish man's gold.

“Innate magic,” Karl read the word aloud, letting his etched brows rise to allow his drawn eyes a better view of the words. No matter how many times his gray or colored eye scanned the words, there was no indication that it as false or unclarified. It was as easy to see as the clouds outside.

These ponies, so unlike the humans, had magic within them. Magic… that they had the capacity to use. Karl was giggling before he knew it.

He tossed the book aside, the same as he had done for the texts before, opting to pick a new novel from one of the many shelves that lined the crystalline library. He needed a certain book now, one that he was sure would do more good than his fellow, yet still, statues.

His finger roamed the labels, reading through Barometry, then Basics, which took up far more than a single shelf, before finally ending up on the “B” he was searching for, Biology. He grabbed one of the larger volumes, wide enough to require the full length of his hand in order to grip. With a flick, he pulled the text free from its companions.

On the cover was a simple circle, one fit with many unruly-shaped figures within it. Odd protrusions jutted from it, squirmed within it, and made the otherwise simple shape into something else. Just beneath the title itself was far easier to understand.

“Cellular Biology,” Karl wistfully said, grinning as he spoke. He turned the grin into a small chuckle before speaking on. “I haven’t the faintest idea what this is about!”

Unceremonious as before, he tossed the text behind him, letting it clatter to the floor. He grabbed another book from the shelf, only about half the size of the former and possessing a far more detailed front. It had a figure on it, appearing similar to the Pegasus he met earlier, except of course for the side-by-side dissection of the picture, showing more and more of the anatomy of the equine creature.

The title was just as fitting, ‘Pegasi Anatomy By Sections’. Karl let his brows rise and his grin spread wide. Opening up the text, the statue quickly scanned through chapter titles, noting their indication by ‘system’. There was Olfactory, Endocrine, Respiratory, Cardiac, Reproductive, and many others. It made the statue laugh.

“Honestly,” he spoke aloud, smile never even faltering as he went on. “They are as weak and vulnerable as the humans. Maybe even as treacherous, wouldn’t you say Arma?” The statue looked up to a high shelf, seeing the beady red eyes of the raven look down at him. The bird ruffled its feathers though remained silent. Karl chuckled and looked back to the book.

“Hmm, I suppose so,” Karl agreed, turning his painted and scarred eye back to the book in unblemished hand. “But to know that, we need to know about them first.” His other hand scanned through the glossary of chapters, looking for one that would peak his ever-curious mind. He found it without fault.

Manacrine System. Mana, a synonym for the ever-elusive device known as magic, at least in the old texts Karl had pilfered from the odd human or two, their corpses at least. It seemed a more profitable section of the book to study for his purposes.

Looking at the page number indicated by the title, the statue flipped through the pages, finding the matching section. The text was surprisingly sparse with matching images, at least compared to the tomes Karl had skimmed earlier. Paragraph after paragraph instead was written on the pages, with small captions and references to future or prior chapters that he had no desire to reference. Regardless of the depth, he read it all, committing all that he could to memory, still searching for any clue he might need.

“Not quite human,” Karl mused as he flipped the page, letting his hand rise instead of fall, grasping his chin as she read on. He fell backwards until he landed on the shelf of books, feeling them jumble under the force of his body. “But they are focused on theories just as much as they were.”

And in truth, nearly every word the statute read was about an idea. Not one of the many paragraphs his mismatched eyes glanced upon contained a reference to source or direction to name of any part of the body responsible for the production of magic. Only that their feathers were rooted in it, their flight depended on it, the manipulation of weather required it, and without it, they were nothing but earthbound winged ponies.

“How sad,” the statue spoke in a dry tone, unfairly spoken with his omnipresent grin. “They know so much on how to use it, but haven’t a clue where it is from. Wouldn’t that be terrible, Arma? Not knowing where you are from?” The bird glanced down at him, cocking its head curiously at the word.

This time, Karl did not laugh at the raven’s response.

“But of course,” he spoke, shutting the book with his hand before turning it over, staring at the cover. “We just have to look somewhere else now.”

“Hello?” A voice called out, forcing Karl to raise his head from the book, staring forwards blankly. Even his chiseled smile seemed to take on the look of rigidity. Ahead of him, the doors were open. He remembered closing the doors, as all good entrances usually preceded, but now it was open again. He was surprised how quietly the door opened, or possibly how distracted he had been.

But what Karl’s eyes were truly focused on was not the door, still slightly agape and allowing a small amount of light to shatter the shadows of the room, but by the small lizard-like creature peaking inside. Green scales, purple spikes, and slitted eyes staring forward.

It looked at Karl and froze like the statue himself. Karl decided to giggle. Giggle, then speak.

“Well hello there!” Karl introduced. Under the creature’s attention, he cared for the book like the life of a small child. He tossed it over his shoulder, paying no attention to the clatter that followed as he continued, “I’m sorry to intrude, but I was told there was a book here I was just killing to get my hands on. I hope you don’t mind.”

The small lizard didn’t say a word. It remained stock frozen in the doorway, one of its tiny claws gripping the wood. It stared at the statue, eyes clearly unsure and frightened. Karl mused how it was, to see a lizard afraid. Most of the humans’ stories told of their ferocity. Yet another lie, he supposed.

“Um… how did you, ya know… get in here?” The tiny lizard asked the obvious question. The statue grinned, looking up at the ceiling as if to ponder the question himself. A slow hum emanated as he did so.

“You know, I can’t remember!” He spoke the omission so easily and cheerily that it spent chills down Spike’s scaly hide. His reptilian eyes blinked as he focused on the creature.

Here he was, coming to return a few choice books that Twilight had borrowed for her usual late night readings, only to find an intruder in the castle. An intruder that, instead of taking anything of at least monetary value, was reading novels from their library. Novels that it didn’t seem to care for either, judging by the two or three the baby dragon could see laying on the ground around the tall creature.

And creature was what it was. Though nowhere near the level of the Princess of Friendship with her aptitude in studying, Spike was well aware of at least majority of the creatures, intelligent creatures, that populated the Equestrian landscape. From Griffons to ponies, then cows to dragons, Spike had held Twilight study up on them and their cultures through her basic schooling to advance study. But the creature that stood tall in the library, grinning down at him with oddly-shaped appendages and coat, was unlike anything he was familiar with.

“You don’t… remember?” Spike repeated the statement as a question, not able to grasp a credible strand within the words. The thing giggled before responding, taking long and seemingly fluid strides with its gait.

“Yes, that’s right, the memory appears to be escaping me.” The creature’s hand, a discolored and oddly-marred gray hand, floated in the air. Its digits wagged about, as if showing the intangibility of its past. It did nothing to ease the dragon, who was half way to running from the room, books forgotten. “I suppose I was just so focused on finding a good read that I didn’t pay too much attention to the obstacles before me. By the way, would you be able to help me out?”

Spike was doubly stunned. The thing, leaning towards him with an uncomfortable grin, was asking for his help after breaking into his home. More than one piece of this scenario didn’t belong. The dragon swallowed on a ball that was building in his throat, hoping the creature didn’t see his leg reaching backwards.

“Help… with what?” The creature held its arms out, for that was what Spike believed they were, making its already tall appearance seem even larger. It didn’t help that the coat draped over its shoulders billowed with the action.

“Why with looking, of course!” The thing spoke loudly, no lack of cheer in its voice. “This is an awfully big library, and I would simply hate to have to look through it alone. I don’t suppose I could trouble you to give me hand?”

Spike kept his voice from stuttering. “A what?” Rather than responding, the creature extended one of its arms, holding the other behind its back. It stared at Spike with a calm grin, but a grin nonetheless. It was hard to tell if its eyes were focused or not. One as gray as his hand and the other but a singular dot, the both looked at Spike without a tremble.

That was when the dragon began to notice other smaller details about the intruder. Namely, just how… off everything felt. There was no depth in its eyes, like they were drawn on. There was no nose or ears visible on its person either. Its mouth moved with its words, but there wasn’t a jaw that opened or closed. It was all… fake.

But then past the superficial details of the thing, Spike noticed what it was wearing. The long tan pants that seemed grafted to the thing’s body, the trench coat that gave it’s already tall form an imposing visage, the yellow cap that hid its slightly lighter colored hair, and the white collared shirt that appeared to be frozen solid. Never before was Spike so thankful that Twilight had taught him to analyze the smaller details.

“You’re… a statue?” Spike didn’t mean to voice the words as a question, but at the same time the conclusion seemed highly unlikely, almost as unlikely as Rainbow Dash answering question before Twilight. But judging by the way the thing across from him widened its eyes, he could assume he guessed at least closely.

“Clever creature.” The sudden and cold whisper from the thing made the bones in Spike shiver. But then, as quick and deadly as the words were, the statue rose and continued to speak on. “Yes yes, I am a statue and, as I’m sure you can quite clearly see, I’m completely unable to move.” To emphasis its point, or lack thereof, the statute twirled in place, arms and single leg extended.

It stopped only when it fell over, hitting one of the bookcases with its head. Instead of getting up, however, or complaining about what should have surely been a brand new lump, it simply turned about its new axis, staring at spike in its lopped over state. The dragon had to twist his own head to match the axis the statue, debatably, stood on.

“Um… I don’t know if I can help you find the book you need,” Spike spoke honestly, trying his best to put the state of the statue out of his mind, at least temporarily. He was having little to no success. “But I could ask Twilight when she gets back. I mean, if you’re willing to wait.”

The statue awkwardly lifted one of its arms, one that was colored from shoulder to wrist, but not its hand. It extended one of the gray digits, letting it sitting on the end of its chin as its eyes looked skyward, or slanted, it was hard to describe given the statue’s preference to lean sideways. It was more than off putting to the dragon, and he was used to a pegasus that hated standing.

“You know that’s very kind of you, I think I will wait!” The voice was full of cheer and the statue wore a painted smile to match. “I don’t suppose you could help me pass the time. As much fun as a statue can have being locked in place for all eternity, I would love to have something to do.” It tilted its head as it inquired to the dragon, waiting for a response.

“Well, I gotta clean up this mess first.” Spike looked at the many books scattered on the ground, seeing more now that the statue had moved. “But if you help, I’m I can find something afterwards.”

“That’s sounds like a bargain to me!” The statue spoke with the same cheer, grinning broadly and speaking proudly. As if to show its sincerity, it pushed itself from the wall spinning with the moment as if its feet were bound to an axis. It grabbed one of novels mid swing, stopping only when the rotation had returned it to fully upright position. It lid the novel into an open space on the shelf, turning back to the dragon, with the same chipper smile. “There, help offered! Now I don’t suppose you could offer me something else now, hmm?”

Spike let out a drawl sigh. This thing was like Rainbow Dash mixed with Pinkie Pie, the worst kind of combination when it came to patience and organization. He scratched his head, realizing that getting it to clean up after itself was likely impossible. The most he could do was keep it from making a bigger mess.

“Alright, um… what would you want to do? I mean, want me to find you a book or something?” Spike asked the question as he began to pick up the other novels about the room, reading their texts and recalling where they were meant to be stored. The statue spun on its heel, stopping when it faced away from the dragon, staring up at a high stained glass window.

“I don’t suppose you have a violin I could borrow, preferably one tuned to a Bach’s Rhapsody of D-Minor.” Spike had to stop what he was doing to turn and stare at the statue. At the silence to its question, the statute in turn turned around to stare at the dragon. The wideness of its eyes and creeping smile on its chalk drawn lips said it was doing anything but lying.

“I… don’t think we have one of those,” Spike tentatively answered, returning to his task of picking up the books. Noting briefly how although the statue’s head and eyes fell, its grin did not falter for a moment.

“Disappointing, but not unexpected,” the statue noted wistfully. It reached into the air, holding its arm extended as if it were intending to hold the pose. Spike placed one of the texts back onto the shelf when he turned to see it.

A raven, flying through the library.

It wasn’t panic, but shock that flooded the dragon, followed quickly by worry for the state of the books. It wouldn’t require much for a flying bird to knock over a few of the higher stacked novels, making his workload much heavier. As said, Rainbow Dash made it an almost daily habit for him.

But Spike was pleased, and a bit surprised, to see that the raven was far more careful with its flight. It glided about the statue, easily orbiting the stone figure, drifting far away from any precariously placed objects or books on their shelves. Spike had to marvel at how controlled yet quite the avian species was.

Then it dipped in flight, nearly landing on the floor. A hair before it hit the crystalline ground, it rose, quickly ascending behind the statue. It took Spike a moment to realize that it was beneath the covers of the statue’s long coat, hiding behind it perhaps. Then it took another for the same dragon to see that it had exposed the back of the statute, the non-stiff and carved portion of it.

The moment that followed that, he saw writing upon the statute. There were only five words in total, and printed in larger than likely necessary font. But that sat beneath a symbol, one the dragon was familiar with in stories and some history.

A skull and crossbones. Spike read the words beneath the symbol swiftly.

Karl
“Property of Pirate Island”

“Pirate Island?” Spike mumbled the last bit of the phrase, noticing how the cloth of the statue’s coat fell back into place, concealing itself once more. The statue, Karl if the name was spelled true, didn’t appear to notice. That, or it didn’t care.

“Making a big commotion again, aren’t you Arma?” The statue spoke with a teasing tone to its voice, leaning close the bird perched on its hand. “You better be careful, we are guests after all.”

Guests, yeah, that was true. Spike was glad the statue realized that. Now he only wished it would act like one. Namely helping him to clean up the mess it caused. The dragon sighed, but did little more than that. He was far beyond used to cleaning up after other ponies. Why should a statue break tradition?

He placed another book back on the shelf, noticing how he had only a few left to reorder before he was done. He was thankful for that much at least, that Karl had not caused so much extraneous work for him. Speaking of Karl, Spike had to ask.

It was a simple question, one that most ponies would have asked almost immediately, but Spike wasn’t one to jump to conclusions so quickly. He had Twilight for that. He felt that he should, like it would be rude, but he knew that it was better to beg forgiveness than ask permission, at least that’s what Pinkie told him once.

“Hey, um,” Spike began, licking its scaled lips with a forked tongue before continuing. “Are you a pirate?”

Spike asked the question innocently, doing so as he placed one of the fallen books back on the shelf. His head was turned, voice unshaken, and asking it with complete sincerity. Silence was the answer that followed, confusing the dragon. So far, the statue had done nothing but speak or nearly dance with its movement. He was about to think it was taller and grayer version of Pinkie Pie. Turning, Spike almost dropped the book from his claw.

The statue was looking down at him, smile gone and eyes cold at stone.

Then his eyes shut, leaving room for his chalk-drawn and broad grin to sweep over his face.

“Well that was an awfully random question. Why would you think I was a pirate?” The sincere voice and jovial laughter was back, following so easy the horrific sight Spike had witnessed. He hadn’t imagined it, he knew he didn’t.

“I…” He began, unsure of what words to say to keep such a cold expression of the statue away. “I just… thought your clothes looked like it… is all… the bird,” Spike’s claw weakly pointed towards the top of the statue’s head, leading Karl to follow the gaze. He looked up as Arma, the raven perched on his head, looked down.

“Ha ha!” Karl let out, waving backwards at an angle that looked uncomfortable. “You thought Arma made me a pirate? Nonsense, she’s just a devious bird is all, aren’t you Arma?”

The statue held its hand up, close enough for the bird to jump from the top of the statue’s head to the gray appendage. When it did, Karl proceeded to hold his arm out, waving a finger of his other hand at the bird in a reprimanding way.

“Bad bad Arma, no confusing others.” Karl almost sang the words, and it was almost enough for Spike to forget that horribly cold expression from earlier. Almost. He doubted anything but time would get rid of that sight.

“Um, I’m sorry for calling you a pirate,” Spike apologized to the statue, just as he had been taught to do when mistakes were made. Karl looked at him with a twisted head, balancing on one foot with Arma counterbalancing him. His smile was ever present. “I didn’t mean to offend or anything.”

“Now now, it’s quite alright,” Karl dismissed, walking the short distance to the dragon. He patted the top of the adolescent’s head, like one would a well-trained dog. Spike, for his part, bore the rather embarrassing display.

“We all make mistakes,” the statue went on to say, its hand settling atop the dragon’s head, digits divided by the reptile’s spikes. “That just means we have to fix them, wouldn’t you agree?”

Spike did not miss, nor imagine, the way the statue’s voice dropped in tone. He opened his mouth to speak, to politely ask the statue to let go of him, but found that he couldn’t. Nothing was blocking his mouth and nothing was choking his throat, but he still found himself unable to voice a word of complaint. It didn’t take him long to know why.

“Deary me,” the statue spoke above him, calm as the moment the two first saw one another. “Am I squeezing too hard?” Karl laughed at the words, giggling in a high pitch. The adolescent reptile raised his claws to the stone hand atop his head, grabbing at the digits futilely. The action only made the statue’s flat grin all the wider. “I do apologize for this. Sometimes I just don’t know my own strength.” In spite of the words, Karl only strengthened the grip of his hand.

The dragon could feel the stone digits of the statue squeezing on his head, painfully concaving the fragile dome of his skull. His pupils constricted as he began to thrash, waving his body as hard as he could back and forth against the monstrous grip on him. It did little more than make the statue laugh a little harder.

“But don’t worry now,” the statue continued to speak, falsely giving hope to he dragon as he continued to cause pain. His grin nor joy never shrank, not to Spike’s eyes or ears.

Spike was in a panic. His claws began to scrape at the stone of the hand on his head, tearing into the stone that caused his own digits only more pain. The grip didn’t lax, his own pain wasn’t subsiding, but he couldn’t stop. Not with this horrifying figure above him, so easily crushing his skull.

“Now isn’t that interesting?” The statue asked the question, either to the dragon being crushed in his grasp or the silent raven atop his head. “Struggling for the last bit of life, no matter how obvious it is that there is no hope.”

Spike felt him rising off the ground, the powerful hand clenched about his cranium pulling him into the air. He managed a weak gasp a painful moan, but he could force no higher volume scream to match the pain that was racking through his body and mind.

He was scared. He was terrified. He was going to die. He was going to die. He was going to die unless he did something!

But he was just a baby, barely old enough to do anymore than organize books. This thing was a monster, a horrible creature that was laughing at his pain! What could he do? What could he do?

When Spike felt his ascent cease, but the grip on his head remain tight as nails, he found himself staring into the mismatched eyes of the statue. They were glaring at him, both sitting above a thin sadistic grin. He could feel fire in the gaze.

And like that, Spike knew what he could do.

“You’re just like a human.”

Spike breathed fire.





When she founded Canterlot University, Princess Celestia made it a point to only enforce a few rules. She was not a princess demanding of attention to detail, or the absolute highest level of work, or that everything be done precisely on time. The centuries had taught her long ago the lack of progress that is made when strict schedules are forced on a pony.

As such, she was careful about how she phrased the few rules Canterlot University. She forbade the unwelcome practice of magic on one another, for risk of harm or damage. She disallowed the foolish idea of bullying, especially among the younger individuals attending her academy. But what was far and gone the most important rule of her school was also the most abstract of them.

The students and faculty alike needed to be themselves.

It was a hard rule to enforce, and impossible to judge, but Celestia was since long ago against the idea of changing any pony to be what they were not. She wanted her ponies to grow, to be greater versions of what they already were, successors in their dreams and achievers of the impossible. She did not want to turn a mare who enjoyed the arts into one that studied science, nor vice-versa.

It was a difficult rule to enforce or judge, but there were obvious areas to give light or example to. For one, the attire one chose to wear, either as faculty or student, was not of her nor any pony’s concern. It was a simple rule to enforce, as the requests to change one’s clothes were simply unneeded to be upheld.

Another example often cited by the princess was the activities one did outside of the walls of the academy. Whether it be dancing the night away in the halls of loud music, or reading a novel in the gardens, neither was any better than the other. Judgment placed by which was more beneficial was not to be made nor printed.

But a great example, one that Celestia found herself quoting more often than not, was the state of one’s room. For the students who held a rented room far from home, or the faculty members who kept their office on campus, the state of the room was far and away from any level of judgment by rule or decree. It was the space one would usually conduct their work, and as such, it should be kept in a way that allowed that work to be done at its best.

That was the excuse the Princess kept forefront in her mind when she saw the state of Professor Slate’s Office.

Used the odd mess from work or study, Celestia was aware that a completely tidy room was very near impossible. What she did not expect was a mess so great in size that hurricanes were curious at the cause of the disaster.

Books were thrown about the room, sitting opened with their pages bent on the floor, against the walls, or even caught beneath the professor’s desk. Said desk was missing a leg, or maybe two and a half given the number of books that were currently beneath or around the supports, holding up the wooden platform oddly. But despite that, it still leaned visibly, great enough that Celestia needed no testing to now water would run down it instead of puddling.

But those problems were just what was immediately in front of her. A Canterlot Professor’s room was large, and Professor Slate had managed to make every corner of her room beyond logical in a foreign ponies mind. Where there were no thrown books, there were piles of paper, seemingly without order or even basic organization by group. Ink vials were strewn across the floor, hopefully empty but the princess couldn’t be sure. The quills were not far behind. Some straight and tasseled, some bent and thrown, others appearing perfect, but imbedded into the floor, walls, or ceiling above.

Oh the ceiling. The ceiling had somehow managed to become a mangy collage, full of photos and words that the princess could only just barely make out. She could see pictures of dig sites, statues, archeological finds, conspiracy myths, even a bit of fan fiction. She did not have the heart or even the stomach to read what was beside a few of those choice images.

“I’m… I-I deeply apologize about the mess, your highness.” Jasmine spoke from aside the princess. Celestia turned to see the student bowing her head, hopefully in forgiveness but likely in shame. “Professor Slate is not the… tidiest of teachers. B-But she’s really good at finding things, when she has to.”

“I suppose this could be one extreme… for practicing for dig site…” Celestia could taste the bitter words of a lie in her voice, but of all the things she would wish to blunt about, this was not one of them. The mare she was speaking to did not own this room, and if productivity was made in this mess, then it was not her place to judge.

“Yes, um, Iron joked about that once,” Jasmine spoke shyly, eyes drifting downwards as a soft smile took her lips. “He actually impressed the professor by finding one of her small statues in the room, buried under three class texts and a dozen ungraded tests.” Celestia did let those words bother her. She did, however, steer the two back on course.

“I am curious, where is the proof Professor Slate had regarding Ghastly Gorge?” The alicorn asked the question with a raised brow, eyes still scanning the room. “Or, for that matter, where is your sister?”

Jasmine opened her lips, the unicorn ready to reply with either a nervous excuse or a bashful apology. Both were equally likely to be spoken. But before she could utter a word, she found herself emitting a quick shriek instead. Celestia nearly did the same, opting instead for stunned silence.

A bomb exploded in the professor’s office.

Papers, books, and even a few statues suddenly and without warning flew into the air, all at once showering the space with parchment. They hit the ceiling, sending the few quills stuck at the height to come tumbling down, feathering downwards true to their name. Celestia felt her wings near explode in tandem with the sudden motion, shocked by the display. It would have been surprising enough, if not for the sudden joyful scream that followed the explosion.

“I found it!”

A quick turn of the alicorn’s pink eyes had her gazing on the younger sister of the two mares, Opal, smiling proudly at the center of the seemingly explained explosion. Her horn was still emitting a soft glow, doubtlessly a result of her escaped. When the younger unicorn’s eyes opened, however, seeing the princess and her elder sibling staring back at her, the cheer on her face was suddenly switched for equal amounts of horror.

The silence carried through the room for a moment, none fully understanding what to do next. Celestia took the time to measure up Opal now, clearly more ragged than when she had come to her court earlier, a result of her apparent searching. It did explain why this Iron Wit was so helpful to have around, finding objects in these piles of nearly lost texts. Looking at the young mare’s hooves, Celestia could clearly see what the elusive object was.

A rope and handle, one tied to the other and disappearing into the sidewall.

The rope was taunt, needing only a small pull or release to fulfill its desired objective, but Celestia was uncertain which it was. Jasmine stared at her sister, who stared back at her. Celestia caught only the very end of their quick conversation, but she knew what the whole message was. Hurry up.

Apparently, Opal did just that.

The young unicorn pulled the rope. And, with that action, Celestia found herself shocked by another jump scare.

The wall next to the mare spun quickly, taking with it nearly a few thousand pages of paper and novels, not to mention an odd statue that may have been hidden. It clicked into place, stopping again while allowing the uncaught pieces of paper to float back down to the air. The alicorn paid little attention to them. Celestia found much more focused on what the action had produced.

For though the wall had turned and taken a great amount of text with it, it brought back something else instead. It was not a staircase or portal, not even another tome. It was something… else. That was the only way the alicorn found herself able to describe it.

It was a figurine of sorts, standing against a hastily crafted counter. Pieces of it were missing, that much the princess could already tell. It had extensions, three of them, possibly four. The mysterious fourth was not there, likely torn or lost among the other missing cavities and spacious openings on the figure.

She could see, however, the shapes that looked similar to legs, though the pair atop the creature were far shorter and far thinner. Majority of the thing was a single color, a dull blue, an oddly unattractive color but also one that was eroded away through the course of time. The only patch on the creature that appeared to not be that color was a patch of white, completely blank near the top of its shape.

“What is this?” She asked the question aloud, hoping the unicorn by her side would answer the inquiry truthfully.

“This,” Jasmine began, stepping forward with an air of confidence and pride. The princess could understand the reason for feeling both. “Is the proof that Professor Slate found regarding the archeological site around the Ghastly Gorge.” The older of the two students walked closer to the object, placing her hoof on it.

“Magic Dating puts it as one of the oldest relics to ever be unearthed.” The unicorn went on, marveling over the object for what Celestia was sure was not the first time, likely far from the last as well. “Its shape and structure are completely alien to us, lacking any of the characteristics of old cultures either pony-like or foreign.”

“Professor Slate found it during a trip,” Opal took over where her sister left off. “She didn’t tell us… where she found it, specifically, only that it was proof there was something at Ghastly Gorge. Anymore… and we don’t know.”

“I see,” Celestia lied. This was another appropriate lie. The students could not suddenly explain something they were doubtlessly working on for months, still lacking answers. “This is… surprising.”

“Yes, I’m… I-I’m glad you agree, your grace,” Jasmine spoke again, slightly ignoring the object by her side. She motioned to her sister with her head, an action her sister clearly saw. Opal grasped the rope again, with her magic this time, pulling it forward and back.

Celestia watched, far more expectant this time, as the wall spun and closed, taking the mysterious object with it, returning the pile of papers and texts that held no order or method to the alicorn. Jasmine sighed softly, likely in preparation to speak again. The princess gave her the time necessary.

“Your highness,” she began. “I… I do not know what that is, but I do know that it was enough to convince our professor to go digging through Ghastly Gorge, something she hasn’t returned back from. She… We don’t want to expose something this, well amazing, until we have something for it to stand on.” The foal bent her head, looking up with an absolutely betrayed expression of hope. Celestia knew the pout well.

“Can… can we keep this a secret?”

The alicorn had no honest intentions to speak about what she had seen, let alone what she could say at all. This was a private affair, as all investigations were. She would not tell the populace what her guards knew behind closed doors. It went beyond proper decorum, it was common logic. Celestia was about to say such to the pair of unicorns, but she stopped herself.

Drifting through the doorway, on a familiar green mist, something came floating towards her. It took Celestia little time to tell what it was, as she had seen the tell tale smoke of Spike’s dragon fire far more than once. It often came when the princess was still in court, so the timing was close to the same as well. But… something was off.

It took another moment for the alicorn to realize that it wasn’t the mist that had caught her attention. It was its size.

Usually the messages Twilight sent were of small size, no bigger than the wisp of smoke from a freshly extinguished candle. This however, was far larger. If the messages were the aforementioned candle smoke, this smoke was worth a doused fireplace. Celestia had no idea what Twilight could have possibly sent her.

Then the smoke billowed over the ground, landing like a pegasi-pulled carriage. It settled, stilled, and then, with a flash, revealed the contents of its message.

What appeared was not a message. What appeared was not a novel. It was not related to a message or literature in anyway that the princess could have stretched or fathomed. In fact, it wasn’t even on paper. It wasn’t anything even sorely related to what Twilight had sent the princess in the past.

What stood before the alicorn was beyond all her years and wisdom. It leered back at her.

“Deary me,” The thing spoke, spoke, with a wry smile and wide eyes. “Where am I now?” 
> Chapter 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Celestia was a kind princess, of that nopony could deny. She sought often the kindness in ponies, even in the darkest of times. No mare or stallion were beneath her in her eyes, only ponies that had erred and deserved the chance to make right. Even the embodiment of chaos itself was worthy of a second chance to her. Simply, to Celestia, there was no such thing as an undeserving pony.

That did not mean she was not wary. Especially now, staring at a creature unlike anything her centuries had shown her before.

Standing on its hind legs, arm grasping at something in the air, and staring at her with eyes that appeared to be etched from stone. It had a smile that unnerved her as much as any trick Discord may have pulled.

She felt Opal and Jasmine behind her, peeking out from behind her extended wings. She could feel their bodies trembling against her, clearly as disturbed the sudden appearance of the creature as she was. A small part of Celestia’s analytical side supposed that was a good thing. It meant it wasn’t another secret they were hiding.

The creature regarded them silently for a moment longer, staring with the same mismatched wide eyes and troubling smile. When it did start to move, Celestia felt her brow furrow. It wasn’t a threatening move, far from it, but the alicorn could think to be little else but cautious in the face of something so new and foreign to even her; putting its sudden and unorthodox entry aside.

“Excuse me,” the creature spoke perfectly, lips never losing their smile as it spoke, arms lowering to its sides, briefly. “I appear to be a bit lost at the moment, accidently being transported and all. Would you care to tell me where I am?” The creature’s arms rose as it spoke, lifting only shortly after they settled at its sides. They settled for reaching out towards Celestia, maybe half way its total reach, as if asking for something physical from her, despite the purely informational request.

Celestia had a much more important question on her mind.

“Who are you?” She asked the question carefully, knowing well that personal information on this new and foreign entity was valuable, at least in the moment. The creature, either through wisdom or intellect, saw ahead of her.

“I’m sorry,” it apologized with a slightly bowed head and a raised pair of hands. “But I am far more interested in the name of the place where I am now. You may have misheard me, but I appear to have been suddenly transported from one location to another.” One of the creature’s hands moved outwards as it spoke, stretching to its farthest length as it slowly rotated at the wrist. Something about the motion just seemed… off to the alicorn. “It would be a terrible shame to be lost, wouldn’t you agree?”

Celestia regarded the creature coldly for a moment, knowing that every second that passed without an apology from either her student or the young dragon charge was another point that this thing’s sending was not a mistake.

She could recall the way the creature appeared, one of its hands clenching at the air.

“You are in Canterlot,” she eventually supplied, well aware of the still-frozen students behind her. She kept her wings flared, concealing them from the thing. “And you are speaking to its princess.”

“Royalty?” The creature brought both of its hands back to its body, letting one grip at its chin while the other supported its elbow. The scarred head on its shoulders tilted to the side as he spoke, as if thinking. “Now that is interesting. I was just speaking with another princess before I ended up here.” Celestia did not let any expression show.

“And what were you speaking to this other princess about?” She hid the name, a small and easy test pass for the creature. Twilight was far from unknown amongst Equestria, but for a foreign creature such as this, alien to her even after all her years, she could assume modern knowledge may be beyond it.

“Oh, you know, just some friendly help and advice,” the creature spoke easily through its smile, waving its gray and marred hand as it spoke, as if to wave off a puff of smoke. It turned from the princess, glancing about the room they were in. “There are an awful lot of books in here. Are we in another library? It’s not nearly as neat as the last one.”

Another, so this thing was in Twilight’s castle, and doubtlessly with Spike.

“Th-Th-This is o-o-our pro-f-f-f-f-” Celestia heard the chambering voice and saw Opal desperately trying to speak behind her. The solar princess thought she was shy in her court. In front of this creature, she looked more prepared to turn and flee than hold a conversation. Celestia could hardly fault the young student.

“Excuse me?” The creature spoke, breaking the unicorn’s fragile sentence apart. Celestia heard the younger of the two sisters ‘eep’ as she ducked away. “Oh deary me, did I frighten you?” Despite the question, the creature was still smiling. Despite the conversation, Celestia had still learned near nothing about it, a fact that needed to be corrected.

“Perhaps it would be beneficial to give us your name,” Celestia extended the olive branch. “Or perhaps… where you are from.” The creature’s head tilted as it eyed her, an odd movement that felt as odd and unnatural as nearly everything else it did. Celestia was wary earlier, but now she was on edge.

“Oh, I’m from a far off land, one you may have never even heard of,” Its arm extended and rotated, making a large circle that stretched from just beneath its waist to high above its head. As it made the motion, it leaned in the direction of its arm, making it sway to only one foot. It acted as if it were natural for it, something that Celestia could not rebuke. “But my name is incredibly hard to say, and I would feel so offended if you could not pronounce it.”

Even in its tilted state with an extended arm, it managed to lay its other arm, with a hand gray as stone, on its chest. As it did, it bowed its head, angled still as if it were laying on a small hill. Perhaps it was a sign of respect, of apology, or maybe just another abnormal act for an already alien creature.

“But perhaps a bit of middle ground is required, hmm?” The creature’s head rose, a curious grin set about its lips again, its gray and chalky mouth. Celestia felt herself swallow at the sight, suddenly thirsty. The creature leveled itself, standing tall on its hind legs, posture straight and stiff as a board. Celestia felt stone would be a better descriptor were most stones far from flat.

It bent its extended arm in, fully colored and unmarred as far the alicorn’s eyes could tell. She stared at it for a moment, wondering what it was about to do. Then, from some part of the room Celestia didn’t see, a bird appeared. It was quiet, almost as soundless as still air, appearing and landing on the creature’s arm. A black body and beady red eyes, it appeared to be the thing more common in the nightmare of foals.

“This is Arma,” the creature spoke, its gray hand hovering over the bird. It twisted and bent its head, an action Celestia was familiar with Philomena. The creature giggled above the bird. “She’s a devious little thing, but don’t worry, I keep her on a tight leash.” This time, when the thing giggled, it shut it eyes and widened its lips, giggling through clenched… nothing?

‘Its teeth are fake?’ Celestia thought to herself, knowing to keep her spoken words to a precious minimum. ‘Not just fake, drawn as if… they aren’t even supposed to be there.’ It was a disturbing thought, one that nearly pulled a scowl onto her features. But she was a princess, a diplomat at that, and she knew how to wear a passive mask in the most turbulent of situations. This was just that.

“She is a nice bird,” Celestia spoke in a kind tone, allowing a small smile of her own. It was a ploy, an act, but it was a move she had to make. Good relations essential, especially with new creatures. “But tell me, what happened to your hand?” She pointed her regalia-clad hoof at the creature’s aforementioned hand, gray and marred by some questionable circumstance.

The creature did not answer her immediately. Instead, it lifted its hand as well, staring at it as if wondering about the question. The bird, Arma, jumped lightly on its complete hand, staring at what Celestia now assumed to be a very unique scar. That, or a curse of some form. Curses may not exist, but neither did a Princess of Friendship until recent months.

“A reminder,” it suddenly spoke, in a voice lower and calmer than what it had used before. The Solar Princess almost missed the words. But then, like flipping a coin, it picked up the same jovial tone right where it left off. “Just a reminder that some part of me is flawed. It makes sense after all, what with the rest of me being just so dashing!”

As if to make its point, the creatue shut its eyes and turned its head, as if posing for a painter. Its gray hand even opened just beneath its chin, as if partially framing its face. It was an odd display, but then, it was far from the oddest thing the alicorn had seen.

“But what about your eye?” That wasn’t Celestia.

The alicorn whirled her head quickly to see that Jasmine had spoken the words, the elder unicorn student suddenly looking very meek with the Solar Princess’s gaze on her. Any confidence she had been mustering to speak vanished at the sight. Celestia reverted her attention to the creature, wondering, half-hoping, it did little to insult him.

Judging by the sudden shift in its drawn grin, twitching of unscarred eye, she assumed that was far from the case. But then it recovered, smiling as gently and deviously as it had before. It leant over, keeping its legs stiff and straight, his balance undaunted by the sudden shift in posture.

“Deary me, that was an awfully rude thing to say,” It spoke with the grin as same as it was before. Celestia felt Jasmine huddle closer to her, terror deepening. “Maybe I should give you a scar.” Rather than what was said, the malice behind its voice set Celestia on the defensive.

“You will do no such thing,” Celestia dropped any inviting tone she may have held, long past formalities. “And you would do well to remember with whom you are speaking.” Despite, or rather, in spite of the diarch’s commanding words, the creature only chuckled, raising up as it did so.

“I was only a jest. I hear those are supposed to be the best ways to broker new meetings, are they not?” The hand that did not hold the black raven half extended towards Celestia, as if asking her to deliver the answer. She noticed it before, but now it was becoming more and more apparent. This creature savored moving, doing it as often as it could. She didn’t, however, know what to make of it.

“Perhaps, but this is far from a formal greeting,” Celestia parried, verbally dueling the creature as if with a rapier. It had a smile sharp enough to give the metaphor meaning. “And it’s hardly a greeting at that. You have yet to even give us your name.”

“I could say the same for the two little mares behind you.” It extended hand curled until a single digit was pointing outwards. It moved forward and back, poking at the two unicorns flanking either of Celestia’s sides. She scowled at the creature.

“This meeting is between us,” she attempted to right. “You are in my kingdom, without any reason you are willing to speak. For what reason should I not see you as a threat?” Turning the question into one of consequence often made it difficult to deflect. The coy smile on the creature, however, suggested it had done this dance before.

“I may not be so open with why I’m here, but I would hardly consider those who ask questions uninvolved in a conversation.” The creature raised and shrugged its arms, even tilting its head to complete the image of mock-confusion. Celestia watched as Arma jumped from its gray hand, soundless as ever, only to land on its head. The creature didn’t seem to mind. More than that, the action didn’t change it. There was no dimple in the hat it wore, no wave to the hair on its head. In fact… nothing about the creature seemed to indicate a form of biology, as shape alone was far from enough.

“Then perhaps we should take our conversation somewhere more private.” The Solar Princess extended the invitation, testing the waters for the creature. Depending on its answer, it would either show its desire to learn, to flee, or be a threat. She suspected the middle of the three, but the latter was her concern.

“Why that would be a splendid idea!” The creature jovially replied, extending its arms outward and upward, celebrating like a foal. But just as quickly did it move its arm did it pull them back in, bowing lowly to the alicorn with one arm folded across its chest, the other over the back of its long orange coat. “Where would be best for a meeting such as ours?”

“Jasmine, Opal,” the alicorn spoke to the pair of students, not turning eye to meet them. “Please go prepare the conference room in Starswirl’s Education Wing.” She gave the command, but neither of the unicorns moved. They were stiff against her sides, debating between leaving their majesty or standing with her. Celestia, however, was pressed for time. “Sooner is better than later.” Those words got through.

“U-Uh,” Jasmine hesitated behind her, though the Solar Princess felt her lean back from her extended wings. “I-I’ll go that. It’ll be done soon, real soon! Like… five minutes ago! C’mon Opal!” Getting only a small ‘eek’ of distress from her younger sibling, Jasmine grabbed opal around the back, pulling her sister around Celestia, around the mountains of papers, and through the door.

Celestia didn’t watch them. She kept her eyes on the creature across from her, not moving from its bow. Though it didn’t move clearly, hardly so much as a flicker of its oddly still hair, she tracked its eyes. The pupils were moving, rolling as they followed the pair of students. They didn’t blink, they didn’t narrow, they only watched with a thin grin adorned beneath.

The alicorn’s ears twitched as the door closed behind them, likely a small reflexive act of the pair to keep the statue from watching them. She couldn’t be sure, but it was unlikely they were looking anywhere else but the abnormality that was conjured into their professor’s room. But with them gone, Celestia felt a weight lifted from her.

“We are now speaking privately,” she began, making it clear their intention to stay put. She saw one of the thing’s brows raise, only one. It gave her a curious look, smile still omnipresent on its drawn features.

“We are, aren’t we?” The thing rose as it asked the question, raven on its head only lightly adjusting to the act, silent as ever. Celestia did not consider much for the bird, see it as pet equally odd as the creature was.

“Yes, so speak clearly and honestly, or I will have no choice but to assume the worst of you.” She dropped any pretense for civility in her tone, already well aware by the creature’s words that it wasn’t here for peaceful reasons. No peaceful diplomat lightly joked about maiming another.

“Deary me,” the creature spoke now what Celestia was sure was a phrase it enjoyed. “That was a very rude remark. I promise you I have only the intention to explore the world! I only ended up here by accident.”

As it spoke, it rose to its full height again, moving its arms from a shrug to a point, aiming towards the ground they stood on. It was very descriptive with its actions, but less than brief with its words. It only meant Celestia had to exercise every power of her observation with care.

“Rude as it may be, my statement stands,” Celestia stood her ground. “I have little doubt that you were in Twilight’s Castle, and I am equally sure you were with the young dragon in her care. But, what I do not know is why you were there and how you got here.” The creature opened its mouth, still drawn with some chalky substance, but Celestia interrupted its words. “And do not pretend to say it was an accident on any pony’s part. Were it so, I would surely know by now.”

The creature shut its lips, lowering its eyes into a sort of hard glare. Though its smile, as before, didn’t change. Rather, the narrowing of its eyes only made its grin sharper, harder, and more assured to Celestia that dangerous intents lurked around the corner.

It looked away from her, staring instead at the bird on its head. The raven looked down, red eyes unblinking as it stared back. The creature’s grin did not change, nor did its hollow eyes shift in any way. It was still as a statue, if only for a moment.

“Yes, that would work,” the creature spoke to the raven in barely a whisper. Celestia remained silent, intently listening. But no matter how much she focused her hearing, she heard little more than the creature’s barely audible murmurs. There was not a sound and hardly a wing beat from the black raven.

“Well then, your highness, I may be able to answer your question,” the creature spoke, lifting its gray hand to its head. With a small hop, the raven jumped from the top of the thing’s yellow head, landing on the stretched limb silently as ever. The creature lowered its hand when it did, using its opposite colored limb to lightly brush the black raven’s coat. “But, may you answer a question for me first? I simply hate being the one giving information needlessly.”

“I’m sure you have no qualms of receiving it,” Celestia knew it was barb, a sharp one at that, but it was beneficial in the moment. She could not forget the sudden hardness that came to the creature’s gaze when its scars were mentioned. Experience had taught the alicorn that anger was the quickest way for hotheaded honesty to bubble forth.

But the creature didn’t anger, nor did it still or sharpen its gaze. It appeared just as relaxed, just as at ease. If anything, the words seemed to entertain it. Giggling followed her words, hunching over slightly if only to hide what little of its drawn smile that it could. The bird on its hand didn’t appear perturbed in the slightest.

“Don’t be absurd,” it spoke with cheer in its voice, in a way that Celestia would hinge more towards Discord than this clandestine character. “I would never do that. I’m no human.”

Finally, something.

“Human?” Celestia returned, a curious ring to her still commanding tone. “What is that?” The solar princess hid her grin beneath her mask as the creature stiffened, eyes widening as its hand stilled over the raven. Arma, the small bird, perked its head up to the creature.

A silent moment passed between them, pregnant with pause. Celestia was not sure what to say next. The word the creature had let slip was clearly something it wished to avoid, but it meant little if the alicorn had no understanding of it. The creature, however, appeared to be equally as focused on what to say next. Though… it may soon prefer flight over words.

“Human is what I am not.” The suddenness of the words, following the creature’s stone-still stare and posture, nearly shocked the alicorn. It was only her focus on the matter at hoof that kept her from being so. “But rather, I am curious to see if it is what you are not.” As it spoke, its colored hand extended towards the alicorn, rotating until it stopped at a point. Celestia only swept her pink eyes over it before turning back to the creature.

“Give me your name.” She would have it now. Their conversation had been spun around too much for her taste, even on a pleasant day. She needed its name, and by the way it giggled at her words, retracting its arm in tangent, it would not comply.

“Oh names, such silly things to remember the past,” the creature wistfully spoke, as if recalling a far-off memory. Its head leaned back as it spoke, either shutting its eyes or staring at the ceiling above. “Such a tedious thing to dwindle over when we have a gift like the present. Wouldn’t you much rather wonder about why I am here, not who I am?”

“I am curious of all those things,” Celestia relented, but did not spin from the topic she wished to discuss. “I will need to know all those things, but your name for now will keep me from imprisoning you soon.”

It was a harsh demand, and the princess knew it. If not by the rarity in which she spoke the words, then by the way the creature quickly reeled back to her, rotating forwards until its wide eyes and just barely visible smirk were upon her. Its smile had shrunk considerably, but it was still far from gone. Only Arma, sitting on its gray hand, seemed non-complacent by the words, staring off into whatever space its red eyes allowed it.

“Imprison?” the creature repeated, either curious or shocked by the alicorn’s words. Both were good, together they were great, for Celestia in the least. “That is quite a way to get an answer from someone. Threatening them.” The thing giggled at the words, still amused by the princess, a sentiment Celestia did not share. The alicorn opened her jaw, ready to fulfill the threat it thought so humorously of, but stopped herself before the wisp of a breath was uttered.

Floating into the room, through the shut door and in the air, a long thread of green smoke appeared. It hovered between the alicorn and creature, filling the silence that had come up between the pair. Then, with a small flash, a letter appeared from the magical dust. Celestia caught in her magical aura in a half-a-second. In the same amount of time, she moved it to the side, not laying an eye upon its contents.

Instead, she kept her gaze on the creature, wary of what it would do should her attention be averted. Yet, be in spite of her concerns, it did not move in the slightest, already a facet that Celestia called uncharacteristic for the thing, so fluid with its movements while it spoke.

However, it simply narrowed its shallow eyes, the mismatched set looking at her. It was as if they were tempting her, biding her to turn away. Celestia merely narrowed her own eyes in turn, furrowing her already scrunched brow. Where she able to cast magic from them, she was sure should would have burned the creature asunder. She kept the idea aside, nearly sure she would have to sometime soon.

“Are you going to read that?” The creature finally spoke, its colored hand performing a needlessly over-motioned point towards the letter floating beside the princess. “Rather, how are you holding it like that? Where I am from, that would be considered magic, usually with strings and mirrors.” Its smile sharpened with every word, till the point Celestia swore it was a single curved line, accented by its equally piercing eyes.

“It is magic,” the solar princess answered, eyes not straying from the creature. She knew how to turn the question into her favor. “And I require no strings, mirrors, and hardly concentration to use it. Remember that well should you wish to continue this avoiding line of conversation.”

Where she to use such a line on any pony or creature of Equestria, Celestia was sure she would have struck the fear of ancient deities into their bones. For the creature, however, made of something she was sure was far from flesh and blood, it only made it shut its narrowed eyes, growing its grin to allow the high-pitched chuckling it was so fond of sharing. Patience is what kept Celestia’s own lips from forming a snarl.

Though the letter was out of sight, it was far from out of mind. It had come from Twilight, that much she knew, but she could not be certain as to its contents. It likely involved this creature, sent in the same manner as the letter itself, but what about it the princess did not know. Concerns for its safety? A message about an accidental fire? A warning? Celestia did not know and could not know unless she read it.

But, to read it meant that she would need to look away from the creature across from her. She didn’t assume for a moment that its shut eyes meant it was anything but prepared. Prepared for what, however, Celestia didn’t know. Perhaps it was desiring to flee, to turn its coat tails and run from her. Maybe to attack, a concern that Celestia was holding foremost in her mind. She could not ignore the possibility that she was merely overthinking the situation, a condition she thought more common when dealing with Discord, but caution is what allowed her kingdom to exist for over a thousand years.

There was one thing she could do, a precautionary act that many would take as an assumption of guilt. It was hardly used by the princess, least the most obvious or dire of circumstances come about. It was more common for the former Captain of the Guard to enact such a thing then herself, but Celestia was alone with a foreign creature and she could not afford to ignore potential information.

“Hold still,” she commanded, voice as hard as when she had spoken her threats. The creature’s giggling stopped as it looked up to her, hunched over as if to stifle its laugh. Its smile was more subdued, though still present, and its eyes drawn lazily. They were no longer sharp points, filled with malicious intent, but a lazy gaze she would sooner expect from an adolescent foal.

Those same eyes perked, however, as Celestia lowered her horn, focusing on the creature. Silently, perhaps trapped in its own thoughts, it tilted its head to the side, analyzing her. But before the alicorn gave it a moment more to do so, she lightly, but quickly, nodded her head at the thing.

A golden bubble of magic surrounded it in the blink of an eye.

Celestia allowed, just this once, a flash of mirth to take over her features. The shock in the creature’s eyes, momentarily abandoning the smile it loved to keep, was a gift she hadn’t realized she would enjoy. She watched as the creature’s mismatched gaze looked about the sphere it was trapped it, searching about it for a way out. Celestia knew none existed.

“Now,” she commanded, donning her mask of indifference once more, “be still. I will release you when, and if, it becomes evident you intend no harm.” At her words, the creature looked back to her, its smile once more being drawn across its features. Celestia preferred the thin line of shock she had spotted moments ago.

“Deary me,” it spoke following her words. “This is quite the trap you have here. I certainly have no way out of here, do I? Not unless your majesty would be so kind as to let me out.” It bowed lowly at the act, legs remaining stiff and straight as its torso became nearly parallel with the ground. The raven on its arm pounced off, making an impressive jump to the yellow top of the creature’s head. It made not a sound, and neither did the creature fixed in the position of prostration.

Celestia regarded the creature coolly for a second. It took imprisonment with far more cheer than any creature she had met before. Even Discord had his qualms of being locked away. Perhaps it enjoyed the idea of being trapped, saw a game in it where none was to be had. She dismissed the thoughts of the creature momentarily. It was trapped and she had an important letter to read.

Celestia levitated the letter to her gaze, already unfolded and text facing her. There were only a few words on it, fewer words than she had hooves. But the words alone made Celestia’s furrowed brow unravel, her eyes widen to their limits, and jaw part in shock.

Don’t Trust Karl

The next thing Celestia was aware of, a sword ripped through the letter.





“So you’ve never seen anything out of the ordinary here before?” Twilight posed the question aloud, not willing to crane her neck to the mare she spoke to. Rainbow Dash, situated on a cloud high above her, floated lazily by the lavender alicorn, wings beating for movement.

“Nope, sorry Twi,” the pegasus returned easily as ever. “This is the best track this side of Equestria for keepin’ my skills sharp, and the oddest thing I’ve ever seen ‘round here are a few gnarly thorns. Other than that, it’s just stone, stone, and maybe a little more stone on the side.” Twilight felt her eyes roll at the comment.

“Alright,” she acknowledged her friend, the pegasus’s sarcasm aside. “I was just hoping you may know of a good place to start looking for the professor. Princess Celestia was rather vague in her message.” The alicorn jumped over a spare boulder, an inconvenience in the middle of the road.

“So, par for the course then,” Rainbow Dash commented from above. This time, said mare turned a sour eye to her friend. All she saw was Rainbow lying backwards in the air, hooves behind her prismatic mane and wings lightly beating, keeping her afloat. Her eyes must have been burning on the cyan mare’s back, as Rainbow followed up on her comment. “I’m not saying anything bad about the princess, I just feel like we’re the ones just trying to figure out what she means half the time.”

“Well I think a much more appropriate analysis is that the princess doesn’t know any more than we do.” Twilight emphasized her words as she spoke, trying to correct the pegasus with halfhearted logic. “Maybe I should have just let you sleep the rest of the day.”

“Wouldn’t have minded that.” Rainbow snickered following her statement turning over mid-air until she was gazing down at the alicorn. Twilight scrunched her lips as she glowered in return. “Hey, don’t get me wrong, egghead. I love hangin’ out with you, but if you have the choice between sleeping for the day or searching for something you’re not even sure exists…”

“I’m rather sure the professor from Canterlot University exists, Rainbow Dash,” Twilight spoke in a way she hoped sounded reprimanding. Judging by the pouting lips on the pegasus, it probably came across more as foalish.

“Pretty sure she is too, but given how many times I’ve flown through this gorge and how little I’ve seen, don’t mind me if I have seconds thoughts about some ancient stuff being buried here or whatever.” The pegasus rolled her hoof around the gorge as she spoke, indicating the gray walls around them.

Twilight sighed, turning from the pegasus and focusing again on the trail. She didn’t want to admit it so readily, especially to a mare with an ego like Rainbow, but her friend was probably right. It was one thing to find something brand new, but it was another to find it in such a commonly visited place. It changed the odds from unlikely to nigh impossible.

She extended her wings as she hopped down from a small boulder, gently touching the ground. Her lavender eyes scanned the gorge again, seeing nothing new and nothing odd. There were still gnarled vines along the walls, creating a trap of sorts for the brave yet foolish creatures that attempted to move through them. There were still boulders to pebbles lining the crevices between the floor and wall of the canyon, the effects of weathering over hundreds of years. But there were no ponies, no equipment, and not a sign that any mare or stallion from here to the griffon lands had so much as visited.

The alicorn puckered her lips, annoyed at the block she had come across. Normally there was at least a small area for her to investigate, some subtle clue on where to go following duties handed down by the princess. But here, there was nothing, quite blatantly nothing.

“I don’t suppose you see anything new?” Twilight asked hopefully up to Rainbow, but let out a disgruntled sigh when she laid eyes on the pegasus. In between the alicorn’s thinking, the speedy mare had managed to snag a cloud from above, dragging it down to the gorge. Currently, she was lying on it like a bed, legs hanging over the edges and her eyes shut peacefully. Twilight resisted the urge to blast the cloud away.

But, rather due to being woken up or for humoring the egghead, Rainbow Dash opened her eyes lazily. Her pink gaze looked around, half-lidded and probably focused more on something in her head. Twilight took in a deep breath of air before turning away. She couldn’t fault the pegasus, not entirely. She was here out of a spur-of-the-moment decision on the alicorn’s part, not some long planned meeting.

“Wait.”

The word was muffled, being spoken through the soft cloud that Rainbow Dash lay on, but it was still clear enough for Twilight to make out. She stopped, looking back up at her airborne friend. She was momentarily surprised to see Dash not lazing on the pillow, but instead, sitting up with a critical look in her eyes.

They were furrowed, lidded still but with brows to match. Her lips were parted curiously, head leaning over the cloud as her hoofs supported her. It took Twilight a moment, but she quickly followed Rainbow’s gaze. She expected to see something obvious, something that only the racer’s famed abilities of memorization would have spotted, but Twilight didn’t see that.

Instead she just saw the wall of the gorge, the same chalky gray wall that had flanked them on either side since they entered the long canyon. It was not a shade darker, a tint lighter, or even smaller in any considerable fashion. It had the same rocks at its base, an odd boulder or two, but nothing compared to the dozen or so they had both seen throughout the canyon.

“Rainbow,” Twilight spoke to her friend. “What is it? Do you see something?” The pegasus was silent for a moment, not responding immediately. Then, with as much warning as was usual for her, she pounced off the cloud, wings beating with more grace than Twilight could muster as she landed on the ground. The pegasus’s pink gaze never left the the wall.

“This… before...” Her first word was muffled, but now she was just mumbling. It was odd, at least to Twilight. She was used to being the one accused of slurring her words mid-thought. Twilight was ready to ask her friend just what she was talking about, or at the very least to be clearer with her words, but she paused. Rainbow was no longer merely staring at the wall, she was moving her hooves over it.

Twilight watched, her curiosity growing quickly, as her cyan friend put her forehooves against the chalky side of the gorge. Dust and small pebbles clattered and fell away from the spots she leaned against, lightly clacking as they fell. Rainbow paid no attention to them. Instead, she kept pushing around the wall, over small portions that Twilight couldn’t discern being any different than any other part of the expansive gorge.

“Rainbow,” she spoke her friend’s name again, louder for emphasis. “What are you doing?” Now Dash stopped, turning to look at Twilight. She had a queer look in her gaze, as if she were obseriving a foreign object. Twilight knew the look was reserved for whatever she had found on the wall. The pegasus’s words made it clear.

“These cracks weren’t here before,” she spoke louder, easier for Twilight to hear. They made the alicorn blink. “At least, I’m pretty sure they weren’t. But I know this wasn’t here.” Rainbow indicated said item with a kick of her forehooves.

They beat on a large boulder lying against the wall.

Twilight stared at the rock, seeing it to be no different than any other boulder along the gorge’s walls. It wasn’t of any significantly larger or smaller size, wasn’t far away from any other eroding part of the canyon, and didn’t appear to be any shade of color different than the rest of the rocks.

By the alicorn’s eyes alone, there was nothing special there. But by Dash’s eyes, the memorizing gaze that Twilight had recruited her for, this was something that simply didn’t belong. And Twilight, if nothing else, always trusted her friends.

“Here,” she spoke to her friend, lightly motioning with a wave of her head. Dash backed off with a beat of her wings, taking to a low-altitude flight. Twilight wasted little time in lighting her horn. When she did, a cone of glittering light extended from it.

The cone landed on the boulder and wall, forming a shape similar to a flashlight. The lavender aura of her magic washed over the gray stone, twinkling the longer the alicorn used her magic. It didn’t take long for Dash to speak up.

“What are you doing?” It was a simple question, and one spoken without the usual brashness that accompanied the pegasus. Twilight was able to answer her easily.

“Sensing for any obvious irregularities in the stone.” She knew it wouldn’t be enough for the quick-witted but vocabulary-lacking mare. “It’s a spell we were taught to mimic an earth pony’s ability to sense the earth. Its secondary at best to what an earth pony like Applejack could really do, but it works in a…” Twilight’s words sputtered and died.

“In a what?” Dash asked, flapping her wings to get closer to the alicorn. Twilight didn’t respond, her magic fixed solely on the boulder, eyes staring at with equal parts of curiosity and shock. It was a look Dash had mixed feelings about, usually because it meant one of two things. Either she was about to hear a lecture worthy of Egghead University, or they were about to go on some kind of sweet adventure. The pegasus begged internally for the latter.

Twilight, still without saying a word, flashed her horn as she changed her magic. It went from a soft lavender light, twinkling like dawn’s break, to a single focused ray pointed squarely at the boulder. With a single flick of her head, Twilight lifted the gray boulder into the air, freeing it from the confines of the wall. And then, with just as much warning, she set the rock down behind the pair, booming indignantly with its ungraceful placement.

Dash normally would have commented on how cool Twilight’s magic was, seeing her friend use it for something practical so rarely. Usually it was for writing, reading, or moving glass jars around her lab. It was always a treat to see her royal friend use it an impressive new display. Normally, she would have commented on this. Now, however, she did not.

Rainbow’s gaze, as well as Twilight’s, was focused on the opening in the gorge wall.

“That… That’s new.” Dash spoke with a motion of her hoof, blinking as well. “Yeah, that definitely wasn’t there before. Or the rock, but the hole is… yeah.” Eloquent as ever, Twilight agreed with her prismatic friend. “You… you think the professor’s in there?”

“Maybe,” the alicorn let out with a nod of her head. She stopped, puckering her lips as she shut her eyes. Her mind was working on a timeline of events, the likelihood of the professor’s arrival, hidden excavation, and general disappearance. When she spoke again, she amended her deduction. “Definitely.”

“Kay, just making sure we’re on the same page,” Rainbow spoke in response, seemingly agreeing with her lavender friend. “Guess that means we’re going spelunking, huh?” She let out a nervous chuckle, pitifully weak and forced. It wasn’t a mystery for Twilight as to why.

Going inside the new hole in the gorge meant going underground. Underground, where it was hard to move quickly and even harder to fly, the two things Dash almost required in order to function. That and sleep, but the alicorn had less sympathy for her friend’s near-narcoleptic tendencies.

Still, that didn’t detract from the very real fact at hoof. Dash hated going underground, Twilight had to go underground to look for the professor, and if Dash followed her, she would be forcing her cyan friend to do something she hated. The Princess of Friendship was not having any of that.

“You can stay here, Dash,” Twilight spoke easily to her friend, wearing a genuine smile as she looked up at her friend. Dash looked back with a bewildered expression instead. “You’ve already helped me out a great deal. I should be able to handle it from here.”

“Uh, yeah, no.” Dash’s response was as quick to Twilight as it was surprising. “Seriously think I’m gonna just fly from this? C’mon, we’ve taken on the freaking spirit of chaos! I think I can handle trotting into a little hole.”

“This isn’t a matter of security for the kingdom Rainbow,” Twilight amended her words to the pegasus. “It’s just a favor for the princess. There isn’t any need for you to make yourself uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, cause I’m totally gonna feel right as rain leaving you alone to walk into a deep hole. Sleep like a foal,” Rainbow scoffed at her last statement, wearing her signature smirk as she finished. “No, seriously Twi, I’m coming. And stopping making it a big deal. I’m just not gonna leave a friend hangin’. You know that better than most ponies.”

Truthfully, Twilight did. It just took Rainbow’s words to slap the sense into the alicorn. She felt a guilty blush on her cheeks at the quick reminder. Just because they didn’t have their elements didn’t mean Dash was any less loyal.

“Okay, alright,” the alicorn spoke with a nod of her head, smiling up at her friend. Dash’s smirk deepened in return, her pride visible with the expression. “It shouldn’t take too long anyways, if it’s not dangerous.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Dash asked as she landed on the ground, already mid-trot to the hole. “Danger’s my middle name!” Before Twilight could roll her eyes, the cyan mare had disappeared into the wall, her prismatic mane and tail vanishing into the darkness. Twilight quickly followed behind.

> Chapter 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Celestia reacted on a bit.

The moment the paper before her was torn to shreds, she summoned a shield about herself, as gold and brilliant as the sun. In but a blink of time, it completely encased her, protecting her from any intrusive item or misdeed. Such an object and intent ricocheted off her shield as soon as it appeared. It made a dull thump across the clear surface as it hit, in a moment doing no more damage than a pebble thrown. It did not stop Celestia from wearing an appropriate mask of fury.

With eyes narrowed and horn still alight, she stared at the thing before her, the monster that had attacked her. A calm grin, mismatched eyes, and a black sword held evenly in its gray hand. It appeared only surprised that she was still alive, a chipper grin upon its drawn lips.

“Oh deary me,” it spoke to her, Karl spoke to her. It was Karl, as there was nothing else the letter she received could be referring to. Its message was now clear to her. “I do apologize for my rudeness, I didn’t mean lash out quite like that.”

“Lies,” Celestia snarled at the creature, already preparing on the best means to imprison the monstrosity. A dungeon was too insecure for a thing that… somehow managed to break out of her spell. “Just like everything else you’ve told me.”

“No, no, that wasn’t a lie,” Karl corrected her again, shaking its correctly colored hand, waving it like a mother would a hoof at a disrespectful foal. “I didn’t mean to miss,” it clarified.

“Then you mean to kill me, do you not, Karl?” she spoke its name, a detail it had attempted to hide from her. She recalled in the back of her mind that the showing of information to a party that suspected its security was a quick way to destabilize their base, make them feel less secure of where they stood. Celestia wanted Karl to reel. But at most, all it did was narrow its mismatched eyes, letting a dull gleam show from its thin drawn lips.

“So it appears that letter was about me. I feel so complimented, knowing I’m the center of attention.” It chuckled at its own words, never taking its blade off Celestia’s shimmering shield. “Tell me, how detailed was it?” That was not a question the diarch expected to hear.

“Enough,” she challenged back, formulating the best means to capture the creature while it spoke. Time was a precious resource, magic she had plenty of. From beyond her shield and behind the creature that threatened her, she was lifting papers and books, searching through them for anything that could be of use. “I know that your words are nothing I can see as genuine.”

“Now that isn’t fair,” Karl spoke back, his smile ever present. “I assure you these are my words, and I mean everything that I say. Besides, I was simply curious how the little dragon was doing.”

Celestia felt her magic stall at the words, the papers and books floating her heavenly aura stilling in the air, caught by the same surprise as she was. It was not a reaction that Karl missed.

“He was very helpful, if a bit curious, asking me almost as many questions as you were. But at least he knew where the lines were, and he was just as eager to answer my questions as to ask his own. I wonder why you won’t offer me the same courtesy?” He dragged his black blade across the diarch’s golden bubble as he spoke, letting it slowly grind across the hard, ethereal surface.

“Karl,” she spoke its name again, earning no more of a reaction than before. She worked quicker behind him, pushing books and papers around as her magic prodded the room for anything of use. A rope, a bookcase, even a rock would do. Anything that could possibly be used against this thing. “What is it you hope to gain from attacking me? You know my title, you know enough of my kingdom. Do you really think such an act will go unpunished?”

“Punished?” It asked the word as a question, even tilting its head. Its blade mimicked the action, grinding against the surface of the shield as it turned on an axis. “What would be the punishment? Banishment from the kingdom? Locked away in a cold dark cellar? Perhaps it would simply be a bit of torture, like recreation for you I’m sure.” He giggled at the insinuation, but not a word of it bother her. Its game was clear to see now.

“The extent of the consequences depends only now upon how long you intend to threaten me.” Celestia did not falter in her search behind Karl, even as she spoke. The papers continued to flitter and flutter, a few choice objects hanging still in the air, suspended by her aura. Heavy tomes, some carved rocks, a statue, several heavy objects but nothing long, loose, and easy to tie. “Lower your blade now and the punishment will fall with it. Continue, and your safety will no longer be a guarantee.”

“My safety?” The laughter Karl gave did no favors to the diarch’s already shaking ground. “Dear little princess, I think you must be seeing things in reverse.”

Then, like knife through butter, his blade skewered Celestia’s shield.

The Princess of the Sun had just enough time to back pedal before the blade cut through her. It swiped harmlessly through the air, slicing the area she once stood in. She could already see the blade tilting, being angled mid swing. She knew what that meant, watching the guards practice their formations countless times told her what it meant. It was going to swing again.

She didn’t raise a shield, her mind already telling her the futility of the act. So instead, she grabbed one of the many objects she had found in the room, the heaviest her adrenaline fueled mind could reasonably grasp. A statue, tall, likely made as a model and non-authentic. It was easily the same size as Karl, perhaps just as heavy, and that was for the diarch’s benefit.

With no hesitation, she swung her head, forcing the still stone statue to slam into the mobile and deadly one.

Karl gave out no sound of pain or surprise as the force was delivered, instead only flying through the doors of the professor’s office, reducing the heavy oak that made them into splinters and oblivion. It was a loud crashing noise, one that echoed through the hall. If the sisters had not already gathered the guards and helped, then surely this noise would now.

Celestia stood in the office still, head lowered and horn pointing deathly at the rubble that was the professor’s statute. Hard as stone, but brittle as glass, her magic and force had reduced into pebbles. Unfortunately, she could more than clearly see Karl’s scarred face peeking up at her through the debris, its hand still gripping a dark blade, a long orange coat still draped about its shoulders, and an amused grin lifted across his drawn lips.

“Deary me!” He exclaimed, showing again no sign of the deadly force Celestia had applied. “That was surprising. I would be more amused if I wasn’t the one lying on the ground.” The diarch noted the disturbing level of glee in his voice. She, however, held none.

“Surrender yourself now, Karl,” she spoke its name again, done with pretense or patience. All lines were now crossed. “Surrender, and I will promise only that you will live. Even you, a stranger to my lands, know that you are outmatched.”

A pregnant silence filled the hallway, with the diarch staring down at the grinning statue. It was ironic almost, Celestia’s features chiseled and hard, focused upon the creature that had assaulted her, but Karl with features relaxed, eyes halfway narrowed and lopsided grin still upon his false lips. The silence did not last, as soon the hall began to fill with curious students and faculty.

Celestia heard them whisper, speaking in awe and confusion. The princess, their diarch, was standing before a crumbled statue, a figure they did not and could not recognize staring back at her, grinning. Celestia paid them only the mind to know they were there. Otherwise, her attention was wholly focused on Karl.

“It appears we’re the center of attention now.” The statue spoke wistfully up to her, as if it were not only moments away from being reduced to rubble and smithereens. “I’m not usually against having a few eyes being placed on me, but I wonder what they would say if they saw their beloved princess kill a completely innocent statue like me.” Karl chuckled at its own words, clearly amused by the lie it so easily spun. “Wouldn’t that need quite the story to justify?”

Celestia did not let her eyes falter, did not let anything but her iron resolve stare down at the statue. But, no matter how much she loathed to speak it, she saw the sliver of truth in Karl’s words. Violence was not a thing seen often in her lands, and near unheard of to imagine her or her sister setting such an example. They were in quite a stalemate.

“Excuse me, princess?” A curious and subdued voice spoke. Karl turned its head to the pony, but Celestia only tilted her eyes, barely at that. She could not afford to take her eyes off of the lethal living statue. The speaker was an elderly stallion, doubtlessly a teacher, with a gray mane on his head and down his neck. He was staring her and Karl, wide eyed. “Is… I-Is everything alright?”

“Oh, everything is wonderful!” Karl spoke for the princess, lifting and dropping its arms as it spoke. The crumbs of dust from the ruined statue fell as it made the action. “I merely tripped and fell over a few important artifacts, probably irreplaceable! Your princess was just deciding on the right words to say, I’m sure.” The words would have been playful had they not instantly begun webbing an intricate lie.

“Are you alright?” The stallion asked, his empathy winning over his fear, taking a few steps towards the statue. Celestia felt her teeth grind. “Do you need any help? I-I’m sure we can find someone medically qualified to-”

“Stop.”

The command was spoken lowly, almost as a growl, freezing the professor mid-gait. Karl looked up to her at the muttering, head tilted, questioning. It was far more concerned with what she would do than what she meant, still dancing around her. The stallion was looking at her, questioning why she would stop him from helping. Ignorance may be bliss, but it also was foolish.

“He is a dangerous individual that attempted to assault me not but a few moments ago,” Celestia stated in a monotone, more suited for the statue she spoke to than herself. The words did wonders though, as the stallion quickly began to back pedal. Karl gave an amused grin at his retreating form.

“Deary me, I’ve never had someone avoid me quite like that before.” Karl only chuckled as the stallion moved back to the growing wall of onlookers, all shifting nervously from the princess to the statue. Their voices were getting louder, their numbers making their conversations more audible. “Tell me princess, would it help if I showed them how kind I am?” Celestia felt her eyes narrow at the statement.

“You only need to speak your surrender to me,” the diarch returned. “So I will say again, surrender now and you may yet live to see the next sunrise.” The words only made Karl begin to laugh again, shutting his eyes, barring his faux teeth, and leaning his head down, as if to hide his mirth. Celestia only continued to stare down at him.

“It seems you love to use that word, alive.” Karl spoke with amusement laced in his voice. He slowly rose from the rubble, the remnants of the statue falling to the floor with loud thumps, cracking the tiling beneath. Karl paid no mind to it, the same as Celestia. “Saying that if I want to stay alive I need only to follow you and submit to your every whim. Not that’s a joke if I’ve ever heard one.”

“I make no jests, Karl,” she spoke its name again, refusing to allow it to forget how it attempted to hide the title, a title she knew now. It was small, a mind game, but Celestia it was clear that she would not tolerate dishonesty. “I never lie in my promises, or my threats.”

“Oh, you must have misunderstood me, my dear princess,” Karl spoke again, brushing off what little gray dust was still on its stone form. Its smile it gave, focused upon the glaring princess, was sharper than the black blade it carried. “It isn’t the threat I call a joke, though I too think it humorous. It’s what you threaten to take away.”

“So you see even your own life as worth little.” Celestia spoke the thought aloud, hoping that her connection would force a reaction upon the statue’s face. Instead, it merely let its half-lidded eyes blink, smile unfaltering and form unmoving. “It’s difficult to find that surprising.”

“Really? It sounds rather surprising to me,” the statue commented nonchalantly, its colored hand resting upon its chest. Its other hand still hung limply at its side, holding the black blade tightly, fixed in stone. “After all, it is rather hard to judge what doesn’t exist.”

Celestia merely let one of her brows rise, confused, intrigued, but lacking nothing in conviction towards the imprisonment of the statue. She would falter in her focus from a few words, a bit of banter from a fearless, though foolish, criminal. Karl, giggling lightly, decided to push further.

“Dearest Celestia,” it began. “I may be living, but I assure you that I don’t have what you would call a ‘life.’ Allow me to demonstrate.”

Without giving any warning, the creature’s arm flew upwards.

Celestia had only the time to raise several bricks before her, held in front like a shield of stone. But no force met them, no reason to resist. They hung in the air, by her magic’s command, blocking from Celestia half of Karl’s form. She saw its grinning face, focused on her almost wistfully. She saw its orange cloak, hung over its shoulders, but that was it, as far as her eyes could see. She heard much more.

Panicked whispers and cries of fright came from the ponies around her, echoing through the hall and made only louder in the vacuum it entered. She heard sobbing from a few mares, heaving from stallions, and perhaps even the dull thump of bodies passively impacting the floor. Slowly, carefully, she lowered her shield of bricks and stone, looking for what Karl had done.

She found the statue with its own blade shoved through its chest.

Celestia’s eyes widened, panicked and in shock. There was no illusion or magic before her, no way for words to lie about what she saw. The hilt of Karl’s dark sword, resting over the white paint that was spread over its chest. It sat there, menacingly, threateningly… murderously. There was simply no other way to describe it, because there was no way for any creature to survive such a blow… no creature that was… alive.

The diarch realized too late the meaning to Karl’s words, to the hidden purpose of its actions, and the mistake she allowed herself to make.

In a deft swing of its arms, Karl pulled its dark sword from its chest, holding it reversely in its hands, blade pointed to the ground and free of its chest. Half a moment later than that, Karl pushed forward, rushing over the crumbled stone of statue. The sword was rising, pointing at Celestia’s chest. Karl was fast, but the blade was even faster.

And Celestia had no time.

She felt stone pierce her chest, taking breath and replacing it with pain. All she could see was Karl’s menacing smile. It stared at her, carefree and cheerful, even as it spoke to her.

“I hope you understand now,” it spoke in a whisper, a whisper barely heard above the dulling of the princess’s senses, beneath the screaming of ponies around her. “It would be terrible if you died still confused.” It laughed, cheerfully at its own words.

Celestia attempted to speak, forcing what little air she had into her lungs. It succeeded in only forcing blood to come from her throat, staining her alabaster coat. Her limbs were weak… so very weak. It was a wonder she could stand on them… but she wasn’t. She was on the ground… when did that happen? She was looking up at Karl, at the statue, at its dark blade, its red stained sword.

“Sweet memories princess,” Karl spoke through her haze, echoing through her mind. “I do hope we see each other again.”

Sense left Celestia, reality falling with it.





Twilight Sparkle didn’t know what to expect when she entered the cave. In the past, she may have suspected to find a cavern utterly devoid of life, perhaps leading down a longer shaft with some subterranean column to be explored. If she were to guess using her recent exploits, she might have assumed to find the ponies they were sent for cowering in fear, but thankful upon seeing the pair of mares.

What she did not expect, and what few ponies rightfully would, was the seemingly intact city.

Twilight Sparkle, a mare, a princess, a former bearer of an Element of Harmony, stared out at the city. Few things could surprise her now, between speaking formally with Mad Gods and solving mysteries thousands of years old. Yet, this sight managed to rend her speechless, an accomplishment if ever there was one.

But the city appeared to have won over two awards by its presence alone. For even Rainbow Dash, the sky-loving pegasus who preferred her two wings over any number of hooves, had fallen to the ground, standing on her legs as if to give her mind more power to absorb the sight. She, a Wonderbolt in training, flew everywhere, even in the presence of royalty and deity, was now standing in order to right her brain.

“Twilight,” said pegasus spoke her friend’s name, coming out as a half whisper, as if afraid too loud a voice would shatter the illusion before them. At least, Twilight justified that it had to be an illusion. That, or any number of a dozen of other possibilities.

“Yes, Dash?” Twilight returned, her lavender eyes never leaving the city far beneath her. She was still wondering about the structure, the sights, the multitude of architectures, the preservation, all of it! The only thing focused on Dash were Twilight’s ears.

“You’re seein’ this, right?” Twilight didn’t have to guess what her pegasus friend was talking about. She also didn’t have to glance to see that Rainbow had yet to look at her. Both mares had their eyes focused into the open cavern, to the grand chasm, to the city that shouldn’t be, an island underground.

“I… I believe so,” Twilight discounted illusion as she spoke the words, starting to write up probabilities for erosion through water decay and how likely it would be to form the structures they saw. The rough numbers weren’t even worth considering. “But I don’t know… what it is.”

“Yeah, don’t think I could guess that one either.” Another rarity, suddenly appearing by effect of the city below. Perhaps it was magical, drawing forth all the oddities of the world. Twilight discounted that idea instantly. It wasn’t long after that she heard her friend sigh next to her.

“That professor and her kid are down there, aren’t they?” Twilight had full capabilities to correct Rainbow on both her mannerisms and the actual ponies they were looking for. Her addled mind and the processing centers of her brain, however, filed it as unimportant.

“Yes,” she admitted. “Yes they are.”

“Awesome,” Dash spoke with no more cheer or disdain in her voice. “Nothin’ like exploring an ancient tomb to get the day started off right.”

“Wait… tomb?”

It was only by those words that Twilight was able to pull her attention away from the city below and focus on her pegasus friend. Apparently, perhaps thankfully, the change in the alicorn’s voice was enough to draw the pegasus’s attention as well. She was looking at Twilight with a  screwed expression, illuminated by the light of the passage they entered from and the magical orb hovering in the air, kept alight by Twilight’s magic.

“Yeah, tomb.” Dash repeated the words with certainty, as if she were describing the aerodynamics of a basic flight pattern. “Giant city underground, no entrance aside from the one we just opened, people from the fossil school in Canterlot going missing. I can’t imagine many other things it could be.”

“First of all, the field is archeology, not fossils,” Twilight corrected. It evoked no change in either mare. “Secondly, a tomb implies that individuals, if any, were being buried either as a means to compartmentalize the dead following a large epidemic or to-” Suddenly, it became very hard for the alicorn to say anything more. Her mouth was moving, or at least attempting to, and her airways were unobstructed.

Then hoof in her mouth, however, made forming words rather difficult.

“Twi, please,” Dash spoke clearly, her eyes focused on the alicorn as if she were about to give a lecture. At least, it was the closest Twilight could relate the expression to. “Don’t talk about that stuff. Not before we go trottin’ into whatever city tomb thing that is down there. Fair deal?”

It took only a brief moment for Twilight to put together Dash’s unease, an equal amount of time later for her to reach her own conclusion. She nodded her head, even as she lifted her own hoof to remove Dash’s from her mouth. She was thankful her friend preferred to fly.

“Yes, of course,” Twilight confirmed her action with her words, giving a small amount of relief to Dash, evident by her slight smirk. “But we still have to look. I mean, it’s far away and unlikely for Professor Slate and Iron Wit to be anywhere else.” And with those words, she watched Dash’s ghostly confident smirk fall for a sigh, and a dejected one at that.

“Yeah, cause it’s not like they just put off their work and decided to take a nap or anything.” Dash’s sarcasm was not lost on Twilight. Rather it made the freshly crowned princess smile at her friend, somewhat relieved to hear some of the pegasus’s confidence returning.

“A pony can only hope, Dash,” she began to her friend, herself already walking down towards the ominous structures that lay far beneath them. “But that same pony should prepare for the worst while hoping for the best.”

“I’ll settle with just following your lead,” Rainbow answered in kind, flapping her wings and taking to the air. She didn’t fly to the cavern’s high wall, to weave through the stalactites as Twilight half-expected her to. Dash simply hovered behind Twilight, gaining maybe an extra hoof or two of vertical distance and nothing more.

To most ponies, the small act was seemingly pointless, a waste of energy where a simple gait would do. But Twilight knew, as Rainbow felt, that there was comfort and familiarity in the air. It was where she belonged, after all.

“So… crazy tall decaying buildings,” Rainbow drawled out what she saw, her pink eyes looking up and around as the pair finally entered the area dominated by the ancient structures. Ancient, because even if they weren’t buried in a chasm large enough to fit a town, they were decaying and showing signs of magical preservation distortion. Twilight only passively realized how much her own gait had slowed as the pair moved through the buildings.

Her steps felt like a foal’s first attempt at movement, small gentle motions forward, but hardly attempting to cover any significant distance. Though Dash was bound only by the extent to which she flexed her wings, she appeared to be hovering more than flying, her head craning at the tall buildings around them, both in intimidation and awe. Twilight was no different.

The idea of “tall” itself, however, was an injustice to the nearly-overburdening size of the structures. Doorways stood over twice Twilight’s height, the multi-stories she saw in a few buildings easily large enough for manticores to easily roam through, and windows that appeared to match. It was odd, even considering that it was mostly made of stone. A decaying gray stone that appeared to have lost its life-long bought with erosion, but made in the same vein as Canterlot Castle and the Palace of the Two Sisters. It was… odd.

“Yo, Twilight,” Rainbow got the alicorn’s attention with a call of her name. Twilight looked up to her friend, seeing her point at something else. “That a sign?” It was an incomplete sentence, but Twilight discerned the meaning easily. The alicorn refocused her attention at the object that Dash was pointing towards.

It was overtly tall, like every building they had seen so far, showing the same forms of magical distortion that came with long age, which shown by perfectly preserved wood sitting beneath rotting bark, but it was a sign none the less. It had a multitude of arrows, each pointing in a different direction, each with their own text written across them. The combined height of the sign and darkness of the cavern made it difficult to make out what was written.

Twilight, motioning her back slightly, flapped her wings and took lightly to the air. She didn’t have nearly the confidence that Rainbow did, but hours of practice and muscle training had made the task of simple elevation manageable. She reached eye level with the sign quickly, only to find a good number of the indicators rotted away, age having taken its toll on them.

“Hey Twi,” Rainbow spoke Twilight’s name again. “What’s with all the patchy rot around here? I mean, it looks like Discord vomited his magic over everything.” By far the most confusing metaphor the alicorn had heard, no contest. She turned away from the sign to give her a friend a perplexed look, one that Rainbow returned. “What? I thought it was a good question.”

“If you mean to ask why the magical preservation spells have begun to distort and wither, it’s because a significant amount of time has passed and their enchantment is ending.” Twilight spoke her clarification and answer simply, but didn’t lose her perplexed look. “If you asking what Discord’s vomit looks like, I haven’t a clue or desire to know.” A small part of the princess felt a pip of mirth at the disgusted frown that overtook Rainbow’s features, complete with a dip in her altitude.

“Whoa, what!” Rainbow fired back. “I didn’t mean that! I mean… look!” She pointed her hoof towards one of the tall buildings they had passed, two stories high and made of stone blocks. Some of the blocks were perfectly rectangular, appearing smooth to the touch. Others were just cracked slabs of rock, moss and decay forming over them in great number. “You can’t tell me that isn’t something that Discord would have fun staring at.” They did look inappropriate, juxtaposed together.

“Alright, Rainbow, I understand,” Twilight held up her hooves at the defensive pony. “But we are still… here,” she let out the statement following a pause, not sure how to describe where they were. Her lavender eyes turned back to the sign, looking for an arrow pointing towards the small square they had walked through. Thankfully, it was still preserved.

“Medieval Square,” Twilight spoke the name, looking back at where they had come from. It did appear medieval, in an odd sense. Though medieval times were associated more with shorter statues, barbaric sentences, and an overall harsher environment to survive in. The square suggested none of those.

“What about this one?” Twilight turned back towards the sign to see her pointing towards another indicator. Her eyes glanced over two or three other arrows, magic having left them and time taking a beating over its absence, leaving not a single legible word. The sign that Rainbow was focused on, however, pointed down a street that seemed to turn from cobblestone to dirt. Under the faint light of her magic, she couldn’t see what was beyond it.

“Pirate Island,” Twilight spoke the name in a soft whisper, hating the ominous tone that the name carried. Pirates, despite their childish connotation nowadays, were associated more with murder, thievery, and heinous crimes that the alicorn loathed to think. An island dedicated to them? The princess could only hope that it would be closer to the childish interpretation than the more literal meaning. Given the age of the place, however, it seemed unlikely.

“So like, there are different sections of this place?” Rainbow asked as she flew around the sign, looking for any more legible indicators. “Just a bunch of small areas all looking different. Sounds more like a theme park then a town.” Twilight was unable to disagree, let alone raise a point against the statement.

She was not to say what did and didn’t survive through the ages. She may have wished for a vast library of lost knowledge to be found in this cave, but it was just as likely to be a castle, a town, or in this case, a theme park, if it was a theme park. They needed more information than just some guessing by their societal standards.

“We’re getting off track,” Twilight spoke to her friend. “We need to look for the professor and her student, so we just have to look for the most likely area they’d want to explore.”

“Yeah, because this place is so boring.” The sarcasm was palpable, and it did not go down easy. “Seriously though. Where would a bunch of rock experts go first in a town literally underground? It’s like asking you where you would go in a library you’ve never been to.” The statement made Twilight’s eyes widen.

Despite what Rainbow meant by the metaphor, Twilight knew exactly where she would go first in a library. Where she not looking for a specific book in a specific section, she would go to where the collect information on all the books in their possession. Every library had one, in fact, every institution from intelligence to entertainment had one.

“We look for the information center,” Twilight spoke the words as if they were obvious. Rainbow’s dubious expression made it clear she did not share the same wavelength.

“Information Center?” The pegasus repeated before elaborating. “Look, Twi, if you’re treating this like that amusement park thing, I was just talking. There’s no way a freaking circus is preserved underground like this. I mean… how long does it even take for magic to dissipate like all that?”

“Eons, usually,” Twilight spoke easily, the information second nature to her. Dash’s point, however, was not missed. “But no matter how old the civilization is, they would have likely needed some way to organize structure and information center. I mean, despite how old this place clearly has to be, it doesn’t really feel like it was made from an uneducated society, does it?” Rainbow, judging by her bit lip and sideways glance, was not inclined to disagree.

“Well, no, but then again, I wouldn’t expect this place to look like… well this.” Her hoof waved over the area, illuminated still by Twilight’s lavender light. Hanging as high as the ball of magic was in the cavern, it made it all seem rather ominous. “I thought it’d be more alien, like Daring Do and the Temple of Ra.”

Ah, so that was the pegasus’s baseline.

“Well, you’re not entirely wrong, Rainbow,” Twilight tried to ease in, her hoofs touching on the ground as her wing stopped their beating. They were already sore, Celestia knows how Dash was able to keep it up all day. Maybe that’s why she slept so often. “This is far and outside the usual find for archeologists, but technical and magical innovations have been lost before due to improper management of information or catastrophic events. It’s not unlikely that if this place survived… whatever happened to it, then we could be further along in magical areas of study.”

“Whoa,” Dash let out, letting the ideas flow through her. For all the faults one could describe to Rainbow Dash, unimaginative was not one of them. Far and away, it was quite the opposite. “So like, whoever made this place could be, like, smarter than you are.” Twilight chuckled uneasily. It was, ironically, the easiest way to hide her discomfort, specifically with the idea.

“I… think you may be giving them more credit there Rainbow,” Twilight began as easily she could. “I-I mean, this is amazing, but we still don’t know anything about them.”

“We know they’re huge,” Rainbow returned far easier than Twilight. “Just look at those doors. They look like Princess Celestia could walk through them no problem, and she’s not exactly short stuff.” Two points for Rainbow, apparently.

“Yes, that is… something.” While not along the line of detail that Twilight was hoping to follow, Dash did make an excellent point. The structures assembled was indicative of the size of the occupants of these ruins, at least long ago. It stood to reason that analyzing more of them would give a better idea of their body structure, perhaps habits and necessities as well.

Twilight shook her head. She was getting ahead of herself. They needed to find the professor and student first. There was no point in attempting to solve one mystery before ending another. She turned up to Rainbow, who was still floating easily about the sign they found. She had the words on the edge of her lips, but was interrupted by her cyan friend.

“This is different,” she spoke, her hoof pointing at one of the many arrows on the post. Twilight staved off her words to observe what her friend had found. It took her only a moment to question the pegasus’s eyesight. The arrow she was indicating lacked any form of magical preservation, nothing but warped wood free of any text. But a slightly longer look, a more detailed one, showed a bit more.

It was larger than the others, first and foremost, nearly double in size. It also sat atop the post, as opposed to being attached to it. The tip of the board, now dulled by its lack of magical properties and time’s decay, pointed deeper into the cavern, away from where the two had entered. Twilight’s light shined down upon them from above, and it illuminated a great deal of the ruins.

Yet, somehow, be it poor luck in aiming or some other form of magical intervention, only a dark shape could be seen in the distance, hovering ominously above them. Twilight felt herself gulp.

“I got ten bits saying that’s where they went.” Twilight hated to agree with her friend. “Well, c’mon egghead. Sooner we find them the faster the better. I wouldn’t want to be lost in this place.” The alicorn couldn’t help but wonder if the two were sharing wavelengths, giving how in tune their thoughts were.

“Right,” she agreed, trotting the path towards the ominous shadow. She was in no hurry to gallop, not into that thing. And for once in a lifetime, Rainbow did not hurry her, instead lightly gliding behind the mare.

They did not stop to think why they were moving slowly, already aware of the answer. They did not stop to think of a better solution, still seeing time as valuable. And they did not stop to look around further, both fearful and intrigued in what they would find.

So neither were aware of the prying eyes, the shifting stone, or the ominous silence.