> Twilight Sparkle, Bringer of Chaos
>  by Caligari87
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Prologue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“C’mon sis! You promised I’d get a story tonight!”

The young filly pouted, forelegs crossed. An older pony sighed and gently sat down next to the bed, nursing the sore spot on her back. Blackout curtains were drawn since the sun had decided to stay up again, but it was technically far past both their bedtimes. “Okay, but just one, ya hear?”

"Yay!" The filly clapped her hooves with glee and snuggled down into the sheets. “Do the one about the Sky Mares and the Emperor!”

“All right then. Get comfy, and no interruptions!”

Gaining an eager nod in response, the older sister lowered her voice and began to spin the ancient tale. 





A long time ago, earth ponies, pegasi, and unicorns lived free, unfettered and happy. They came and went as they pleased, and did as they wished, so long as it did not harm another pony. The sun and moon shared the sky, and it was never dark or light. All was equal and well in the land, which the Ponies called Equestria.

Then two pony sisters decided they were not pleased with the state of things. They saw the land and other ponies, and felt a need to organize, create rules, and bring ponies together in purpose. They shared their desires and dreams, gained many followers, and were eventually declared Princesses of Equestria. From their castle, not far from here, they governed the land together. For a long while, all their subjects loved the Princesses. But the sisters were not satisfied. 

One fateful day, the two Princesses discovered an ancient, forgotten magic. Seeking yet more prestige, they used it, and were transformed, from carefree mares into towering, monstrous creatures, gaining control of the combined powers from every kind of pony.

Overcome with this new power, the Princesses became proud and cruel, seeking to control anything and everything that they could touch. They ruled with hooves of iron, bending the land and ponies to their will. They even grew strong enough to move the sun and moon, creating light and dark whenever they wished. They enslaved the ponies of the land to harsh hours of wake and sleep, rigid seasons where the weather wouldn’t change for months at a time!

Soon, many ponies and other creatures became tired and angry of being ruled over, but none were strong enough to defeat the sisters. One of these, a young dragon, set out to find a solution. Seeking far and wide, he found the source of the same ancient magic the sisters had, and knowing he would need it to defeat them, used it for himself. 

But the sisters had taken all the magic that offered control. The dragon got what was left, the magic to destroy control: Chaos. It cruelly transfigured him, creating a disjointed, random mishmash of a body that barely resembled anything at all. Still, it made him powerful, strong enough to take on the tyrants ruling the land

Biding his time, the dragon waited until a time when the two sisters were apart. He attacked the younger Princess first, and she battled him with dark magics, waves of creeping blackness and stabbing starlight, sucking vortexes that would tear a pony apart...

But the dragon was clever and unpredictable, and his Chaos magic overcame the Night-Mare, imprisoning her in a body of stone.

When the older sister returned, the dragon was ready. They clashed, and the Princess rained scorching light, white-hot beams of which bored holes into the very mountains, roaring whirlwinds of flame incinerating all in the blink of an eye...

But again the dragon was crafty and unfettered, his entropy breaking the Day-Mare’s power. He sealed her in stone as well, never to escape. 

The ponies of the land were overjoyed to be released, and hailed the dragon as their savior. He promised them that he would let Chaos reign supreme, and clutching, hateful Order would never again be known in all the land. They crowned him Emperor, and he took the name Discord, defender of Entropy, the First Chaos…





“...And to this day, he rules with infinite unpredictability, protectin’ us from the return of Order.” 

The earth pony sighed. “Hail Discord,” she finished. 

Her little sister clapped her hooves again. “Golly I love it when you tell it!” she exclaimed. “Never gets old. I wish I was there to see Discord beating those creepy Sky Mares into stone!”

The mare only smiled weakly, but played it off as a stiff back while she got to her hooves. “Well, that’s enough for tonight. Sleep tight, little sis.” She kissed the filly on her snout. “Big day tomorrow.”

The filly nodded and wriggled deeper into her blankets. On her way out, the mare closed the door behind her, walking slowly to offset the tension along her spine.

“Applejack?” A tiny voice called after her.

The door cracked open again. “Yeah, sugar-cube?”

“...Do you think the Sky Mares will ever come back?”

The earth pony was silent for barely a moment. A more astute observer might have noticed the slightly lower slouch in her shoulders, or the heavy, quiet sigh. The filly however, saw none of it.

“I don’t believe so, sis. I reckon they’re gone for good.”

“Oh good! They sound really mean and scary. Well goodnight, big sister!”

“Goodnight, Apple Bloom. Sleep tight.”
> Chapter 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



There’s something about a train ride. It gives a pony time to think. Not that I haven’t had a lot of that already.

 I asked Discord for some time off my studies before returning to Ponyville, to get my head right. He agreed; it’s not every day a mare gets her entire life and perceptions turned upside down, even in our crazy world.

He probably knows I spent most of it staring at my ceiling. Try as I might, I can’t seem to wrap my mind around where to go from here. I’m glad he gave me a second chance, forgave


Twilight Sparkle raised a hoof to her head. Even magic as simple as levitating a quill was troublesome lately.

She set down the journal and slumped to her left. The brief shooting pain of hitting the window glass was a welcome distraction. Her stupid horn had been misbehaving all week long; it wasn’t cracked, or chipped, or overheated, just painful to use. No, it wasn’t a physical thing, probably more psychosomatic...

Writing was too difficult right now. She settled for staring blankly ahead, one eye filled with the vibrating psychedelic print of the seatback in front of her, the other a blur of blue and red grass gradually giving way to purple lakes under green/black checkerboard skies, as they raced across the ever-changing landscape. 

The trains were one of the few things rarely subject to large random mix-ups. Even in a land given almost wholly to Chaos, Emperor Discord had finally been convinced that ponies needed a semi-reliable way to get from place to place quickly. It was one of very few concessions His Highness had agreed to, always citing a slippery slope back into the hateful grip of Order.

That was why Twilight enjoyed trains. Even lying in her bed, it was always a gamble if she’d be suddenly launched at the ceiling, tickled sick by pillow feathers, or trapped inside the mattress when it suddenly decided it wanted to be a Venus flytrap for a day... The last one was not very fun at all.

No, here she could just sit and think, with no chance of interruption -

“Excuse me, miss.”

Well, almost no chance. “Yes?”

“We’ve received notice it may be another several hours to Ponyville. There’s a herd of rabbits building a tree-dam across the main line, and we need to divert to the alternate route.”

Twilight tried to make a genuine smile at the assistant conductor, given his news was actually quite welcome. “Thank you, I’ll settle in then.”

“Can I get you anything?” 

“A pillow would be nice.” 

“Of course miss, be right back.”

The conductor left and Twilight leaned back on the cool window glass. The stallion seemed quite pleasant, even cheery. It was rare thing, for sure. She wondered if his demeanor stemmed from having a relatively stable, stress-free responsibility in a world where nothing was sure, or if he was one of those ponies who actually enjoyed constant Chaos for the fresh and new experiences it brought minute by minute. If it was the latter, she envied him.

He returned with her pillow and she gave another genuine smile of thanks. He tipped his hat and trotted off, whistling to himself. 

Twilight laid across the bench seat and adjusted the pillow to support her head. She didn’t want to look out the window anymore. Ignoring the throb in her horn, she levitated the journal sideways in front of her and opened back to the marked page. 


my indiscretions.

He was right. I wish I wanted other ponies to love me and accept me for who I am. And they did. They took me in from the goodness of their hearts even though I stood opposed to everything they hold dear. I started to let my guard down, to be myself again. But then I betrayed them, stepped all over everything they tried to teach me.

It hurts, but I have to let it go now. Friendship is a force of Harmony, and I can’t let a weakness like that corrupt my purpose again. I can no longer am not Twilight Sparkle the organized, secret harmonizer. I will be Twilight Sparkle, Agent of Chaos, Bringer of Discord, regardless of what anypony thinks of me. I will forsake petty desires in my quest to spread the will of our glorious Emperor. I will


Twilight noted with annoyance that her muzzle was damp. Cursing weak eyes and a sore horn, she flipped the pillow over to the dry side and returned to writing. Or at least tried to. The effort of holding things aloft was painful again, and it made her eyes blurry. She closed the journal and slid it into her saddlebag. 

Sleep would be more welcome, she decided. She shifted to a more comfortable position, and closed her eyes against the pain. Yes, it was just her throbbing horn. Nothing at all to do with the rift in her soul.





Twilight slept most of the rest of the journey. Thankfully it was relatively uneventful, apart from a rather violent technicolor thunderstorm that threatened to blow out the train windows until they passed.

The extra rest was a boon to her mental state. She had trained the ability to get by on smaller, broken segments of napping instead of one long block like most ponies needed. It was highly efficient, but indulging in a few hours of uninterrupted sleep was divine. Now, she was awake, alert, and eager to get on with her task.

The sky was dark as they pulled in to Ponyville. Not from any natural process, but rather because the sun was throwing a fit and insisting on creeping in slow circles under the horizon. Twilight also noticed with amusement that the station was being attended by a great many townsponies, most of them engaged with trying to keep the ticket office from crawling away. 

She was grateful for the dark. Her abrupt departure and letters had likely left sore feelings among many of the locals, and a confrontation was the last thing she wanted. This way, she could deftly slip off the train between the light of the lanterns and hopefully make it to the library without meeting anypony she knew. 

Twilight moved away from the window and donned her saddlebags. Journal, check. Quill, check. Winter coat, check. Extra bits, check. Seeds of Discord, check. Ticket… 

Her brain screeched to a halt in time with the train. She was doing it again. 

Mentally kicking herself, Twilight forsook the rest of her mental checklist and trotted toward the doors of the traincar. Stupid, stupid, stupid, she thought viciously. You know you can’t do that! No more lists! Of all the…

“...audacity! You should be ashamed of yourself, Wandering Eye! It’s positively despicable that a mare can’t even wait alone in a train station without an escort, my word…”

Twilight froze. The voice was unmistakable. Before she could react, a floating suitcase clobbered her in the face, as a pearly-white mare with a flowing purple mane and elegant hat stepped through the opening doors.

“...young stallions all thinking they’re Discord’s gift- OH! I’m so sorry dear, didn’t see you there! Are you quite all right? I must have been distra-”

The mare stopped cold, her mouth frozen in the middle of a word.

Twilight smiled nervously. “Uh… Hi, Rarity.”

One of Rarity’s suitcases dropped dramatically to the floor. Her eyes tightened to slits. “What are you doing here?!” she hissed. 

“Well, I… um…” Twilight began backing toward the doors at the opposite end of the train car. “Just... you know… passing through, had to stop back for a couple things…”

“Do you have ANY IDEA the amount of heartache you’ve caused?!” Rarity’s voice was rising, indignation approaching rage. “How DARE you come back? How DARE you show your face?! Consider yourself fortunate that a proper mare doesn’t stuff ponies piecemeal into SUITCASES, but just you WAIT until Rainbow Dash…”

Twilight didn’t stick around to hear what would happen when Rainbow Dash learned of her arrival in town. Saying a tiny prayer that the local Chaos magic wouldn’t leave her trapped inside a wall, she teleported in the direction of the platform.

The whims of the universe smiled on her and she arrived intact at her destination a split-second later. Without pause Twilight galloped into the darkness toward the center of Ponyville, as Rarity’s angry shouts faded into the distance. 





The library door locked behind her, and Twilight shuffled into the library. Try as she might, she couldn’t get Rarity’s face and voice out of her mind. She’d known that her letters would be unwelcome, maybe even hurtful, but she hadn’t conceived of anything approaching Rarity’s reaction. 

She drew the curtains and lit only a couple candles to offset the darkness. Better to avoid drawing any more attention than necessary, considering she didn’t know how long she was going to be here. Truthfully, she wanted to complete her task and get out of town as quickly as possible, a desire only intensified by her encounter at the train station. 

Unfortunately for Twilight, it would be insanity to trot off into Everfree now that the sun and moon had danced below the horizon and withheld their light. The forest was frighteningly dangerous even in the best of times, and only a complete foal would even consider going there in the near-pitch-black enveloping Ponyville. 

Twilight gathered a few magically preserved foodstuffs from the kitchen pantry (thankfully, none had grown legs and run away), and made her way upstairs to the spartan bedroom. She considered journaling some more, but her horn ached in protest at the very thought.

Instead, she grabbed a couple options from a nearby shelf, patted down the bed to ensure no hidden surprises, and settled in for some very light reading. She wanted something cheap, consumable, not mentally engaging, and found the perfect unintentional candidate in Lulamoon’s Tricks and Secrets for the Magical Novice.

It was positively laughable for a highly-skilled unicorn like her, but more relaxing than indulging in a whole gallon of barley & chocolate chip ice cream. She lost track of time, and it was only after several chuckle-inducing chapters that Twilight’s brain finally caught up to her. 

Why had Rarity been getting on a train leaving Ponyville?

> Chapter 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rarity stomped back and forth on the now-empty train station. Her bags lay scattered in the general vicinity. One had popped open, spilling incidental clothing and toiletries onto the platform. She kicked it again as she stomped by.

“Of all the nerve!” she fumed, mainly to herself. “Leaving like that and then showing up as if nothing were wrong! ‘Hello Rarity, so nice of you to meet me here, how have you been?’ Oh, I’m fine, simply trying to cope with a mild case of utter betrayal!”

The train had waited for her, but after nearly 20 minutes of indecision the conductor had simply closed the doors and shrugged. Not that she could really blame him. She wouldn’t want to ride with her either. 

“Who does she think she is? ‘Hello, I’m Twilight Sparkle, let me pretend to be your friend while I secretly plot to sell you out to the Emperor, because I’m his star student!’ IS THAT WHAT IT WAS?!” She shouted the last sentence at the top of her lungs in the direction of Ponyville proper, and the library. 

Suddenly feeling rather exhausted, Rarity stopped and sat down in a huff. She’d been pacing and ranting for too long, and her hooves ached from driving them into the platform. She noted with mild embarrassment there were several half-crescent indentations in the wooden surface.

There was a crumpled piece of paper stuck in one of the deeper dents, as if she’d stomped particularly hard on that spot. Seeking a distraction from her whirling thoughts, she pulled the paper out and smoothed it. It was her receipt and ticket for a one-way trip to Manehatten, now useless since the train had left without her. 

She took a deep, shuddering breath, slowly exhaled, and got to her hooves again as the red tunnel around her vision gradually faded. A quick application of magic, and her open suitcase repacked and latched, then joined the others in a neat stack. She levitated her fancy hat from the platform, straightened the plumage (which complimented the dark purple of her locks), and delicately donned it. A quick dab at her puffy eyes thankfully revealed only a little runny mascara, which she quickly cleaned up. 

Finally looking the part of a proper mare again, Rarity gathered her bags and trotted lightly back over to the ticket office. The stallion behind the counter regarded her warily over rounded spectacles.

Rarity smiled warmly and put the wrinkled paper under the glass. “Good sir, I’m dreadfully sorry to impose, but I appear to have missed my train. Might I trouble you for a refund?”





Using a light spell between streetlamps (many of which had stopped working, or run off on their own at some point or another), Rarity made her way across Ponyville. She dropped off her suitcases at the boutique, then stopped by The Sugar Polyhedron for a couple pints of vanilla oat swirl, and a few other items. She knew it was horrible for her figure, but there were times that simply required overindulgence, and this was one of them. Once the ice-cream was purchased, she began heading toward the Everfree Forest.

Her journey through the darkened town was surprisingly uneventful, which was simultaneously welcome and grating. The nature of Chaos generally dictated that something would happen by random chance eventually, and the longer she went without a frog hitting her in the face, or the cobblestones melting to lava, or cider falling from the sky as sleet, the more apprehensive she got. 

She made it across town and up to the edge of the Everfree without incident, however. The path to Fluttershy and Zecora’s cabin was moderately clear, and the cabin itself was well-lit, casting beams of warm light down the path, and also back into the forest to illuminate any approaching threats.

The cabin itself had been built to take advantage of a certain “neutral zone”. The Everfree Forest was not ordered by any means, yet it was largely not affected by the Chaos magic that ruled most of Discordia. It was some kind of terrifying mismash, where leaves and twigs might assemble themselves into timberwolves, or fallen stars manifest as an Ursa Major. Only one thing was certain in the Everfree: Ponies were definitely not very high on the food chain. 

The contrasting magics made for a certain area of stability near the treeline, however. There, life generally went as expected, boring and predictable. It was the perfect place for a timid spirit like Fluttershy.

Reaching the front door, Rarity knocked gently. A muffled voice made a confused-sounding noise, and light hoof-falls approached. Rarity stepped back politely as the door unlocked and swung open to reveal a familiar striped face.

“Good evening Zecora,” Rarity said. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

“Rarity, not at all! It is so nice to have you call.” Zecora smiled warmly. “We had prepared tea for two, but I will gladly set a place for you.”

“Thank you, dear, that would be lovely.” Rarity delicately wiped her hooves on the doormat. She stepped inside. “So I take it Fluttershy is home as well, then?”

The zebra chuckled “You know she fears the dark and gloom; you’ll find her in the sitting room.” She closed the door, locking it behind them, and led Rarity into the house. “Go on in, don’t wait for me. I must prepare some extra tea!”

Zecora trotted down a hall toward the kitchen. She was a transplant, originally from Zebraca, and had emigrated on hoof to escape civil unrest. With a lifetime of tribal living and wilderness survival skills, but little knowledge of the local geography, she’d travelled to Discordia and spent over two years living and wandering in the Everfree, before emerging into Ponyville about a year ago. She was pleasant and very intelligent, if sometimes ignorant to the particulars of pony society. Fluttershy had been the first to meet her since the cabin was the closest building to the Everfree, and the two had become fast friends, each a compliment to the other’s personality and skills. 

Rarity turned and stepped into the sitting room. A buttery-yellow pegasus with a pink mane looked up from preparing tea leaves, and her face brightened. “Rarity!” she quietly exclaimed, jumping to her hooves.

“Fluttershy, darling!” Rarity hugged her friend tightly. “Oh I’ve missed you!”

“I’ve missed you too; we haven’t even seen you in days.”

Rarity felt a pang of guilt at not visiting before her planned departure. “Yes,” she said drawing away. “I must admit much of that is my fault; I know you don’t get out often, and I really should come by more. But...” she raised the bag of ice cream with a smile. “I hope this makes up for it a little.”

Fluttershy giggled. “Oh, that wasn’t necessary. But it does sound delicious. I haven’t had any in ages; Zecora’s usually the one who goes into town and I don’t think she believes in ice cream.”

“Mark my words, the taste is fine,” Zecora said as she entered the room, a tray with steaming kettle and an extra tea setting balanced on her back. “And I indulge from time-to-time. But only rarely, for you see, that stuff is far to cold for me!”

“Well, then it’s a good thing I picked this up, too.” Rarity levitated two additional items from the bag. “Do you prefer frosted carrot cake or sweet wheat cookies?”





The three mares chatted lightly for some time, sipping on tea and munching on more sweet treats than was probably advisable, but none of them minded. They hadn’t spent a proper evening together in weeks, so a little indulgence was fine.

Rarity did envy both her friends a little. Zecora was trim and muscular from a lifetime of wilderness living, and often took excursions into the dangerous Everfree Forest “just because”. Fluttershy, like most other pegasi, had a ridiculously high metabolism to keep her body light and provide the energy bursts her wings required. Both seemed to have no issue burning off extra sweets, while Rarity knew she would probably be regretting this ice cream for a couple weeks at least.

Even so, it was good to be with her friends again. Ever since Twilight’s letters, it had been understood that they couldn’t spend much time together, or risk falling afoul of Discord’s wrath. Which brought her to the unpleasant topic of the evening.

“I actually had something else to tell you both,” Rarity said, taking advantage of a conversational lull. “It’s not at all welcome news, but I thought you should know.”

The other mares glanced at each other curiously, then back at Rarity.

“Twilight Sparkle is back in Ponyville.”

Fluttershy squeaked and raised a hoof to her mouth, eyes wide. “Did she say why she’s back? Where did you meet her? Oh! I hope she doesn’t come here!” The timid pegasus had a positively crippling fear of confrontation. 

Rarity flicked her mane nervously. “Well, I met her at the train station; she was stepping off when I bumped into her. I really didn’t give her much of a chance to explain why she was back… my behavior was… rather unbecoming, if you take my meaning.”

Zecora snorted and pawed the floor.  “I would hope that you were clear, her presence is not welcome here!”

“Oh, rest assured I was very clear. What she did was positively dreadful, and I certainly did not sugar-coat that fact.”

Fluttershy seemed to recover slightly from her initial shock, and cocked her head at Rarity. “Why were you at the train station? Were you meeting somepony?”

“Actually no…” The twinge of guilt bubbled up again, but this was partially why she’d come over in the first place. Better get it over with. “To be perfectly frank dear, I was going out of town. All this…” she motioned in the general direction of Ponyville; “...has been wearing on my nerves. So, I bought a ticket last night, for today’s train to Manehatten.”

“But... that means…” Fluttershy’s voice faltered.

“Without goodbyes you would have left, and your poor friends would be bereft,” Zecora summed up matter-of-factly.

Rarity sighed and peered deep into the carton of ice cream. Reaching the bottom had not assuaged her frustrations or guilt at trying to slip out of town unnoticed. She sat the spoon and empty container unceremoniously on the table. “Zecora, do you remember when you arrived in town last year? How we all came together to get you settled in?”

“I remember well the kindness shown. You took me in, gave me a home. I know it was a trying task, but for better friends I could not ask.”

“Well, we weren’t always that way, were we, Fluttershy?”

Fluttershy seemed curious at the change in topic, but accommodated Rarity’s question. “Yes, that’s right. I’d only heard of Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash by reputation, and I didn’t even know Rarity and Applejack at all.”

“And I only knew Applejack because of my gem-finding skills and helping feed her pet dragon,” Rarity added, tapping her horn. “I actually had to look up the word ‘friend’ when you first used it, Zecora.

“My point is, the five of us are all still new to this idea of friendship. This last year has been absolutely incredible, learning and growing together. And when that Twilight Sparkle showed up…” Rarity’s voice faltered. There was more emotion attached to this than she had let herself realize.

“You wished to befriend another pony, but did not think she was a phony,” Zecora said. 

“Exactly,” Rarity nodded, preemptively dabbing a tear before her remaining mascara could suffer. “I jumped in too quickly, got too involved before I realized what she really was. After she… After the letters, I was frightened. Not just for myself, but for all of us. I didn’t want to bring punishment on anyone, but I couldn’t stand to just forget our friendship… and...” her voice constricted again. 

“And you knew it would be painful to leave, but it was less painful than trying to stay and forget.” Fluttershy finished. Her tone was understanding, not accusatory or hurt. She rested a comforting hoof on Rarity’s shoulder.

“Yes, it’s foalish, I know… And then meeting her at the station! It was just… Did I tell you, she didn’t even take the blanket I made for her? I went to the library after, and she just... left it, wadded up in a corner like a used tissue!” 

The emotions were bubbling up now, and Rarity made no effort to suppress them. She paused only a moment to blow her nose before continuing. “When I saw her, I didn’t think about why she was here. I just yelled and screamed, like a common street pony. For all I know, she was coming to apologize. I could have listened, could have forgiven her, but now I’ve gone ruined that chance!”

She slumped face-down against the table, sobbing. “I’m a horrible friend!”

The other two mares looked at each other, unsure exactly how to handle the breakdown. Fluttershy took the initiative to shift closer and wrap a foreleg around Rarity’s shoulders, hugging her gently. "Well, I don't think you're a horrible friend."

“A perfect mare you may not be,” Zecora added, moving to comfort Rarity as well, “but you are a perfect friend to me.”

“Do you really mean that?” Rarity’s voice was muffled by the tabletop.

“Of course she does,” Fluttershy assured, “and so do I.”

Rarity’s sobs continued for a few minutes, but finally slowed. She lifted her head off the table and wiped the tears from her eyes, noting the remaining smudged mascara with mild annoyance.. “Thank you, dears. Ugh. I still feel absolutely terrible, though. I shouldn’t have yelled at her. More than that, I shouldn’t have tried to leave without telling anypony.”

“It’s water under the bridge now. We can understand why you tried, but we’re just glad you didn’t.” Fluttershy hugged Rarity again, then gave her a little space to recuperate.

“Me too.” Rarity sniffed and rubbed her eyes a final time. The surge of emotion had been intense but relatively brief, and now that it was out she could think more clearly. “Zecora, do you think we should… maybe check on Twilight?” she asked. “You’re our resident friendship expert, if anypony is.”

Zecora shrugged. “I come from a land where friendship exists, but I’m hardly an expert even in this. Still, it would be well, to ask why she is in town. Who knows, perhaps she may have come around?”

“Do we even know where she is?” Fluttershy’s eyes were large and apprehensive again at the prospect of a possible confrontation.

“Well, I don’t know for sure...” Rarity said slowly. “...but she wouldn’t have gone far in this darkness. She was staying at the library last time. We should probably check there first.”

> Chapter 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight paced the floor of the bedroom, muttering to herself. She was a fast reader, and had completed Lulamoon’s Tips and Tricks quicker than anticipated. The other books she’d grabbed only lasted a few pages before she got frustrated. 

She estimated it had been less than two hours since she’d arrived in Ponyville, and already she was getting stable fever. 

The overriding concern was getting to the Tree of Harmony, planting the Seeds of Discord, and getting out of town. The quicker she could do that, the quicker she could put this whole business behind her. 

The problem was the darkness. Neither the sun nor moon had peeked above the horizon, and even the stars withheld their light. It was actually starting to get creepy at this point; normally random chance would dictate that something happen, but this was disturbingly consistent. 

She also noted with concern that the local Chaos magic itself was rather under-active. One of her books had danced a little jig after she threw it on the floor, and a plant on the windowsill had started whistling a random tune occasionally, but that was it. Twilight couldn’t detect the magical field from the Tree of Harmony, but something was inhibiting Chaos. She just couldn’t put her horn on it. 

Even outside the window in the dimming light of a streetlamp, things were almost...dead. The grass had shifted to a boring shade of dark green, and the cobblestones were solid in the ground. Fewer and fewer ponies could be seen on the streets, many probably preferring to stay indoors with at least some sort of light.

She turned with a growl of frustration and paced another few laps.

The longer she was here, the more likely something else would interrupt her task. At very least Rarity knew she was here, and that meant other ponies would likely learn of her presence as well. She still couldn’t figure why Rarity had been getting on a train out of town, but it seemed like a moot point at the moment. 

Two more laps, and Twilight couldn’t stand it any longer. She roughly grabbed a quill and parchment from the nightstand and began writing. 



Honorable Emperor Discord;

I will keep this brief. I arrived in Ponyville a few hours ago, and things are… different here. It’s pitch black outside, and something is inhibiting the local Chaos magic. It’s not the Tree of Harmony, it’s something else. 

I haven’t been to the old castle yet; it lies deep within the Everfree Forest, and going there even in bright daylight is dangerous. However, I don’t wish to delay my task any further. I will be leaving in a few minutes, and with luck I will reach the castle, plant the seeds, and return quickly.

I will write you again when I complete my task. If you do not hear from me in a day or two, I most likely ran afoul of some beast in the woods. I hope that will not be an inconvenience. 

Your student, 
~Twilight Sparkle



She blotted and sealed the letter, then quickly gathered her saddlebags. She would send the letter at the magical post office near town hall to ensure it was sent quickly, instead of leaving it for pickup at the library’s mailbox. A few small pinches of magic extinguished the lit candles. 

A quick glance through the front door of the library revealed no ponies in the immediate vicinity, and Twilight breathed a sigh of relief.  She trotted outside toward the post office, but in her eagerness to leave, failed to notice a faint light spell at the far end of the street behind her. 





The three ponies halted in surprise for a moment when Twilight emerged ahead of them, illuminated by a street lamp in front of the library. Rarity nearly called out, but a raised hoof from Zecora silenced her. 

Far ahead of them, Twilight quickly glanced around then slipped into the shadows towards town hall. Her behavior was secretive, as if she didn’t want to be seen. 

“She’s sneaking somewhere, it seems to me,” the zebra said thoughtfully. “I wonder what her task might be?”

“We could just ask,” Rarity huffed, a little perturbed at being interrupted. “After all, that is why we’re looking for her.”

Zecora shook her head. “If dark or secret her purpose is, asking will only keep it hid.”

“You mean she wouldn’t tell us.” Rarity received a nod in response. “Are you suggesting we follow her instead?”

“It depends on what you seek to find, to mend the rift or know her mind.” Zecora shrugged, peering intently into the darkness. “Her heart is secret, so are her deeds. Tact and skill are what we need.”

“Could we maybe just see where she’s going, and decide then?” Fluttershy still seemed eager to avoid confronting Twilight directly.

“I suppose so…” Rarity conceded. The idea of sneaking around town and hiding in bushes was not very dignified. She didn’t know if it was something a true friend would do either, but Zecora made a good point. “All right. We’ll follow her for now and see what she’s up to.”

The mares crossed to the darkened side of the street away from the lamp, and followed Twilight toward town hall. Zecora led, her eyes more accustomed to the dark. Rarity trailed a few paces behind; Fluttershy was glued to her flanks, as if the shadows themselves would snatch her away if she strayed from the magic light of from Rarity’s horn. They trod carefully on the grass at the edge of the street, avoiding the tell-tale noise of hoof-beats on cobblestone. 

It wasn’t very far to town hall from the library, and soon they could hear faint voices around a nearby corner. Zecora peeked around, then motioned for the others to join her. 

Twilight was at the drop-off box, standing under the mounted lantern on the nearby wall. They couldn’t see if she had dropped anything into the box, but there was another mare as well, a familiar cross-eyed grey and blonde pegasus with a mailbag.

“I told you, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But everypony’s worried and upset! Shouldn’t they at least know you’re back?”

“No, Ditzy! I don’t want anypony to know I’m back, I’m leaving soon anyway.”

“Then why bother mailing a letter? Someone might write you back and send it here…”

“That’s my business, not yours. Excuse me.”

Twilight abruptly turned and trotted away. Her curt tone made it clear that the conversation was over, but Ditzy Doo wasn’t known for her grasp of social cues. 

“Wait Miss Sparkle, shouldn’t you at least leave a forw- OOF!” Ditzy attempted to follow Twilight, but her non-aligned eyes misjudged the curb and she toppled ungracefully to the cobblestone. Her mailbag flew open, spilling dozens of envelopes into the street. “Oh, horsefeathers!”

Twilight paused for a split-second and glanced back. A skilled unicorn could have gathered the letters in seconds, but apparently the clumsy pegasus wasn’t worth the time and effort. She turned again and trotted away into the darkness without a second glance.

Rarity almost immediately began to follow Twilight, but without a word Zecora and Fluttershy went the opposite direction. “What are you doing, we’re going to lose her!” Rarity whispered at them.

“We’ve got to help Ditzy,” Fluttershy responded quietly over her shoulder. “It’ll take her ages to gather these on her own.”

Rarity felt her conscience prick. She had hardly considered the mailpony’s plight, even after watching Twilight Sparkle callously do the very same thing. With shame, she realized this made her no better than the mare she viciously berated at the train station.

“Fluttershy!” Rarity called quietly, trotting after the other two. “I’ll take care of those letters; fly up and try to spot where Twilight’s going, before she gets too far.”

Fluttershy looked apprehensive at being alone even for a short while, but nodded. She spread her wings and gracefully soared skyward, disappearing in the inky blackness.

It took only a moment for Zecora to help Ditzy to her hooves while Rarity gathered and stacked the scattered envelopes and scrolls. Thankfully the mailpony was fine, other than a slightly sore ankle and an overdeveloped sense of gratitude.

“Oh thank you, thank you!” she exclaimed repeatedly. “I can grab one or two with my teeth or wings, but these would have taken forever. They let me have the job for my flying speed, you know. Normally unicorns can handle the letters easier, but they don’t get places as quickly. You'd think maybe they could just use magic to--”

“Well, we’re glad to be of assistance,” Rarity said, gently interrupting the rambling mailpony. “Will you be okay, dear?”

Ditzy nodded. “I’ll be fine. Just gotta drop these off and deliver a few express packages before the day’s out. Hey, did you know Twilight Sparkle is back in town?”

“We know the fact you speak,” Zecora responded, “and it is this pony whom we seek. It seems she may now be gone; do you know what path that she was on?”

“Oh, I wish she would have told me where she’s going. Sorry I can’t help you.”

“That’s quite all right, dear,” Rarity said, as flapping wings drew close in the dark. “We had Fluttershy fly ahead to look for her.”

The timid pegasus came into view and gracefully flared her landing, then dashed into the circle of light. “I followed her light spell,” Fluttershy reported. “It’s strange; she almost doubled back, and I think she’s heading to the Everfree Forest!”





Just outside the edge of Ponyville, Twilight Sparkle cursed her luck. The partially-familiar path to the old castle was hidden in darkness, and each time she thought she’d found it, her forays ended tangled in bramble bushes, or blocked by trees and branches. The forest itself seemed to be actively impeding her progress.

She was also frustrated because the longer she stayed here with the purple glowing light from her horn dancing around the edge of the forest, the more likely it was that somepony would notice her and interrupt again. Already Rarity and that walleyed mailpony knew, and that was enough. 

Twilight did feel a bit guilty for leaving without helping pick up the spilled bag. It was rude and callous when she could have gathered all the scattered mail with nary a thought while Ditzy would probably be struggling with it for the next fifteen minutes, but she consoled herself with the assurance that her mission was more important. After all, if she didn’t -

“Whoa!” The ground under her hooves seemed to disappear, and she toppled forward into the darkness. The light from her horn extinguished as she lost concentration and slammed face-first into a bush. 

Not just any bush either. It was a wild rosebush, dense with curved thorns. She’d fallen about a leg’s length into a small depression, and initially felt only the physical shock of falling, along with a burst of adrenaline. That quickly faded once she came to rest, replaced with the pricking agony of a hundred tiny needles. 

“OW!” Twilight shouted. The thorns were excruciating. “OH FOR THE LOVE OF DISCORD!” She thrashed for a moment, then stopped to breathe through the pain. The more she struggled, the worse it would get.

Instead, she gathered her wits. Teleportation in a dark, unknown place was a gamble at best, deadly at worst. She didn’t want to bring part of the bush with her, or end up inside a tree-trunk, or impaled on a branch. No, better to do it the old-fashioned way. 

Twilight gritted her teeth, and slowly extricated herself from the bush. It was arduous, but with patience and a little telekinesis, she finally emerged. She lit her horn and took stock of her injuries.

Painful though they were, the thorns were not life-threatening. She had dozens of tiny punctures and scratches on her legs and chest, a few of which wept little drops of blood. She couldn’t see her face or neck, but it seemed much the same. She thanked chaos that none had hit her in the eyes.

Stepping back up the slope, she regained her bearings. The path…

...The path was different. Not changed, but somehow she’d come up the wrong side of the slope. This path was far more familiar than whatever forsaken gametrail she’d been following. She could even see the cave where she and Pinkie Pie had hid from the coffee rain several weeks back. What Twilight wouldn’t give for the laughing party pony to be here now, cracking jokes and helping her forget the painful pricks in her skin. 

A sudden lump rose in her throat at the memory, and she quickly shook her head to banish the feelings. 

This was good. She knew where she was now, and she knew which direction the castle lay in. Now it was a straightforward matter of keeping her hooves on solid ground until she reached the moat and outer walls. Pumping extra concentration into her spell-light, she forged ahead.





Though it wasn’t long before Twilight reached the castle, the darkness and uncharacteristic stillness of the woods made the journey seem much longer than normal. A few times she thought she’d heard something moving in the bushes, or stalking far behind her, but it always turned out to be nothing. 

The castle was ominous in the dark; she couldn’t see a silhouette against the blackness of the sky. The crumbling stone walls rose sharply from the ground, veritable gravestones paying homage to times and events long since dead and forgotten. It was creepy, but there was something else that troubled Twilight even more. 

It was the magic. Yes, she could easily detect the Tree of Harmony’s influence in the air, radiating from the caves below her hooves. That was to be expected. It was more or less as she’d left it several weeks ago, if a little stronger, but not by much.

No, there was other magic here. It was dense, cloying like the darkness. She could feel it leeching into her, probing her own magical ability. It wasn’t Chaos magic that randomized, wasn’t Harmony magic to get disparate elements working together, it wasn’t even Ordering magic that put things into their natural states.

It was Control. Magic that could force anything the user wished, regardless of nature, will, or chance. Powerful, gripping, smothering Control.

Twilight had never felt it before. It was pulsing through the castle and surrounding forest, and she could now recognize it extended faintly to Ponyville. The air was thick with it, saturating everything. The intensity nearly made her stagger a few times. 

Once she was inside the castle, Twilight tried pinpointing the source of the magic. It was localized somewhere deeper within the walls, in the castle proper, not with the Tree of Harmony below. She crept through rooms and halls in a roughly circular fashion, gradually narrowing down the location of the magical emanations to one of the inner courtyards which she remembered opened to the sky.

As she grew closer and closer, she noticed something else. At first she didn’t notice because the light from her horn overpowered it, but soon enough it became apparent.

The air was glowing. 

There weren’t little lights in the floating dust, or some kind of point source. Literally, the air around her was glowing, illuminating the walls and floors with a soft, even light. And the closer she got to the source of the magic, the brighter it got.

Finally, she reached the last hall before the inner courtyard. The glowing light was now bright enough that Twilight could see clearly without her horn, and she ceased her illumination spell. Now, she could see the true color of the glow: It was a deep, royal blue. 

Twilight realized that her heart was pounding. Her mouth was dry, and tiny beads of sweat were forming on her brow. She tried unsuccessfully to swallow, steeled her nerves, and stepped into the courtyard.

The atmosphere was positively ethereal. 

The courtyard itself was in a roughly rectangular shape, wider than it was deep, edged by a shallow, column-supported awning. The center was lower than the edges, two steps down and open to the sky. Long neglected bushes bordered the lower courtyard and outgrew their planters, spreading to the long grass in the center. 

Every surface was evenly illuminated with diffuse blue light. The air itself was still; there was not even the hint of a breeze. Powerful magic pulsed and flowed, rivers and eddies, an ocean of invisible power undulating silently. Tiny silvery lights teased the edges of Twilight’s vision, only to fade and disappear when she tried to look toward them. 

And in the center of it all, the statues of the Day-Mare and the Night-Mare stood still, rearing in frozen fury. 

It was like standing in the eye of a magical hurricane. 

“Oh, my goodness!”

Twilight screamed in panic and whipped toward the voice behind her. Almost involuntarily, she fired a powerful targeted blast of Chaos magic… that fizzled and popped in the air like a technicolor stream of plaid and polka-dot confetti. 

Rarity shook a few bits of paper and glitter out of her mane, looking annoyed. “Careful with that, dear! I haven’t carried this mane all through the Everfree Forest just for you to muss it with a misfire!”

Shaking with adrenaline, Twilight stared in shock for a brief moment. “That was a concentrated Chaotic disruptor spell; it should have randomized you at the molecular level! How did…?” She shook her head. “Nevermind that. What are you doing here!?”

“Well, we followed you, obviously,” Rarity said curtly, as if it should be self-evident. 

“...We?” Twilight repeated. It was then she noticed Fluttershy and Zecora stepping into the courtyard behind Rarity. “Wait, three of you? What’s going on?”

“We could ask you the same, truth told,” Zecora said, staring around with wide eyes, “but I wonder more at what this castle holds...” She wandered in a slow circle, taking in the courtyard. “Magic like this I have never seen, it almost seems to be a dream!”

“Yes indeed,” Rarity was also entranced by the otherworldly atmosphere. “Although I am curious, Twilight; what would possess you to come all the way out here , and in the middle of the night, no less?”

Twilight’s initial panic was subsiding now, and she stepped out of her defensive bracing posture. The back of her mind was starting to shout that it would be best to keep the three mares ignorant of her true purpose regarding the Tree of Harmony, and this magical oddity would be a perfect distraction.

“Technically, it’s only late-afternoon by most measures,” Twilight corrected, “but the answer is simple. I detected the magical field reaching out toward Ponyville, and thought it would be worth investigating. As you can see, there’s some sort of anomaly going on here, but I haven’t had a chance to figure out what it is.”

“It is a curiosity,” Rarity agreed, “I’ve never seen anything like it. But more to the point…” She rounded on Twilight. Her voice remained pleasant, but her azure eyes were cold and sharp as tacks. “Why are you in Ponyville, of all places? It seemed you positively scrubbed your hooves of us last time.”

Twilight felt herself quail a little inside, but tried not to show it. “I… I just left some things here last time. You know… some books, some notes, um…”

“The blanket I made for you?” Rarity’s voice sharpened to a razor edge.

“Uh… Yeah, that too!” Twilight nodded in agreement. She’d almost forgotten about Rarity’s generous, if simple gift. The guilt crept back in, a pit in her gut that would not be filled.

Rarity’s eyes narrowed. “I see.”

“Ahem.” A demure voice sounded from near the courtyard entrance. Twilight glanced to see Fluttershy throwing a look to Rarity, but the pegasus quickly averted her gaze and flattened her ears when she saw Twilight had noticed. 

Rarity sighed and took a moment to regain composure. When she spoke again, the edge in her voice was gone, replaced with sincerity. “Twilight… when you left Ponyville the way you did, a lot of feelings got hurt, my own included. I don’t know why you did what you did, or why you said those nasty things in your letters. I almost left Ponyville without saying goodbye to my friends, because of what you wrote.

“When I met you on the train, I was hurt, and I lashed out. My behavior was atrocious dear, and for that, I hope you can forgive me. I didn’t greet you as a friend should, nor give you the chance to explain yourself.”

“...I, um…” Twilight was lost for words.

“To that end,” Rarity said, “I wish to make amends. I don’t know why you’ve come to Ponyville today, but it would be remiss of me to not give the benefit of a doubt. The hoof of friendship and forgiveness is extended, if you wish to take it.”

With her last sentence, Rarity stepped in and raised a forehoof towards Twilight. Her expression was genuine, although simultaneously worried and wary. 

Twilight raised her own hoof reflexively. Her mind was whirling, a lump was rising in her throat. After all she had done, the heartless things she’d said, the friend she betrayed was generously offering her forgiveness and acceptance, and all Twilight needed was to say ‘yes’.

“Rarity, I…” she began to stammer.

The magic shifted.

Twilight stumbled back, raising a hoof to her horn. It was like an invisible wave crashing on the beaches of her subconscious. Rarity staggered slightly. “What in the world…?”

The others were not unicorns, finely attuned to magic like Twilight and Rarity, but they felt it too. Fluttershy’s wings spasmed and twitched. Zecora stomped her hooves as if her legs has fallen asleep. 

The four ponies glanced between each other in surprise and apprehension, and immediately began looking about for some change or sign, but none was to be found. The light in the courtyard remained steady, no wind began blowing, nothing came into sight or hearing. 

“Please tell me the rest of you felt that!” Rarity exclaimed. 

“I did,” Fluttershy squeaked, cowering low with wings spread.

“I felt it too, some surge of the spell.” Zecora was stepping side-to-side nervously. “Though what it was from I cannot tell!”

Twilight shook her head and tried to focus. Yes, the magical wave had come from the courtyard where they stood, but there was more. Something had triggered it. An undercurrent, a riptide, something under the surface…

Her eyes widened and she gasped in realization. The Tree of Harmony!

The others looked at her in confusion, and Twilight suddenly realized the words had reached her mouth instead of remaining in her mind. A little voice began berating her for the loss of control. No, stupid stupid stupid! They weren’t supposed to know about that!

Rarity raised a curious eyebrow. “Twilight? What is-”

She was cut off as a sound broke the unnaturally-still air. A horrible, grinding, crunching noise like granola being ground slowly between teeth, but sharper and deeper. The four mares whirled toward the source of the noise.

The massive marble statues of the Day-Mare and the Night-Mare had been placed at opposite ends of the rectangular courtyard, about five horse-lengths apart. Each was reared back on her hind legs, facing the other. Apart from weathering, each was as it had been carved over a thousand years ago. 

The stone form of the Night-Mare trembled on its pedestal, and her terrible, helmed head began to turn. Her neck cracked and crunched as it twisted. Chunks of marble crumbled to dust and sprinkled the ground below, as her frozen face met the horrified gazes of four little ponies. 

Fluttershy screamed.

The sound snapped the others out of their terror-induced paralysis. All four turned tail and galloped back through the castle in blind panic, their only concern to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the Night-Mare.

The statue smiled. 

> Chapter 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The ponies stopped running just outside the crumbling stone walls, more from expediency than a sense of security; whatever they’d left behind in the castle was certainly not worth blindly bolting  headlong into the darkness of the Everfree just yet.

“What. Was. THAT?!” Rarity exclaimed between gasps. 

“I have no idea!” Twilight gasped back, her own breathing ragged and metallic in her throat. Of the four, she was probably the least fit and mostly spent her hours practicing magic, not cardio.

Fluttershy was beside herself, whimpering, wings shuddering, nearly on the verge of tears. “Did… did it follow us?”

“I do not think so, but it is too soon to know.” Zecora barely seemed winded, but her eyes were wide with fear. She was muttering to herself in her native language, some sort of prayer or invocation. “Miungu ya nchi tambarare, kulinda kutoka usiku, tutumie siku yako, kutupatia mwanga wenu…”

All four of them stared back at the castle. It was still dark and silent. No glowing blue light, no screeching monster galloping after them out of the distance. It was unnerving and relieving at the same time. The air was still dense with magic, but it had not intensified any further after the initial surge

After a few minutes, Twilight felt some semblance of rationality returning as her breathing slowed. What they’d seen was terrifying, but there had to be some sort of explanation. She couldn’t say for sure, but maybe it had something to do with…

“Twilight, before we had to flee, you said something about a ‘Tree of Harmony’?” Zecora’s wits seemed to have returned to her as well. 

Twilight raged internally for letting that one slip. Although some of the other mares knew she was interested in the crystal tree below the castle, she’d never completely let on what she thought it was, or exactly why she was studying it. “Well, I’m not sure that’s exactly what I said,” she evaded. “I was a little woozy from the magic surge and…”

“Because in my land we have a story,” Zecora continued, “of a crystal tree with ancient glory. It keeps the magic of Chaos at bay, protecting our lives from disarray. Umoja is the word we use, but it could mean ‘harmony’ to you.”

“There’s a crystal tree in the dungeons under the castle…” Rarity said slowly. “My gem-finding spell led me there once with Applejack. I know Twilight came here a few times to study it.”

“If indeed something she knows of this,” Zecora said pointedly. “To let it go unsaid would be remiss.” She glanced sideways at Twilight intently.

The purple unicorn groaned quietly. Her horn was starting to throb painfully again. Of all the things she needed, this was not one of them. 

Still, perhaps a little misdirection could do some good. Maybe a sliver of truth would satisfy the other mares enough for her to complete her task and get out of town.

“I think it might be a tree of Harmony,” Twilight said hesitantly, trying not to let her mouth get ahead of her brain. “That’s one of the things I was studying when I was here. That’s why I came back, to do more research on how Harmony magic affects the local Chaos magic.”

“Has your research shown enough to prove that Harmony could make the statue move?”

Twilight shook her head. “No,” she replied with absolute honesty, “Not from anything I’ve seen.”

“What about Chaos?” Rarity asked. “I remember a time when the statue in town square came to life and organized one of those country bumpkin ‘hoe-downs’.”

“No,” Twilight said again, “Chaos magic doesn’t work out here, I’ve tried. Besides, that magic in the courtyard was based on control, not Harmony or Chaos. Control magic doesn’t ask nicely, it forces things to obey the users wishes.”

“So…” Rarity’s voice was filled  with apprehension. “Who was controlling the statue, then? Or what?”

Fluttershy interjected, still quaking with fear. “I don’t know, but if it’s alright with everypony else,  can we please go now?”

Twilight seized the opportunity to possibly get away from the others. “Yeah, you three should definitely go,” she urged. “Statue or not, there’s more information I need to gather about what’s going on here.”

“No dear, that simply won’t do at all,” Rarity said. “Who knows what kind of creatures or magics you might run into? What kind of friends would we be if we did that?”

“We’re friends?” Twilight asked. An uncomfortable silence fell over the group, and it was obvious Rarity’s words had been a slight misstep.

Fluttershy, of all ponies, spoke first. “Well… friends or not, it would be cruel to leave you by yourself in a dangerous place like this,” she quietly urged. “You could get hurt, or worse!”

Zecora nodded in agreement. “Remiss we would be to leave you alone, out here in the dark with that creature of stone.”

Twilight growled under her breath. This was going to throw a shoe in her plans. She could try and lose the others in the woods and head back, but then they would come looking for her. She could insist on staying and try to plant the seeds anyway, but they might get suspicious and stop her, or whatever was in the castle might cause more problems. She could give up for today and try later, but even that was subject to possible complications.

And yet… As she gazed into the dark toward the castle walls, she felt a nauseating feeling churn in her stomach. It wasn’t fear for life and limb, or even fear of the unknown. She’d felt both plenty of times in this crazy, unpredictable world. Somehow, this was worse.

Eventually she gave in to the feeling and sighed reluctantly. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

“The cabin is the nearest place,” Rarity advised, looking with concern at the trembling Fluttershy, “I think we should go there first.”





They arrived at the woodside cabin some time later, Zecora leading the way down an alternate path that only she seemed to be able to follow. The cabin was visible from quite a distance because of the bright magical lamps outside, and in spite of herself, Twilight felt comforted to be walking toward it. 

She trailed behind the group slightly, occasionally considering how easy it would be to simply slow down and slip away back to the castle, plant the Seeds of Discord, and wash her hooves of this place. The thought gave her no pleasure, but at least she’d be done with the task.

Yet every time she’d glanced behind, that uneasy nauseous feeling returned. Something was wrong in the old castle, in a way she’d never felt before. Perhaps it was the magic of control, or something deeper, more malicious. Whatever was in there wasn’t friendly, and Twilight couldn’t shake some deep, primal instinct that venturing inside those walls again would be her undoing.

Zecora unlocked the door and the four ponies shuffled inside gratefully.  The trek through the forest had left them all tired and dirty; mud and bits of foliage clung to their coats and hooves. In addition, the sun had been dark for nearly twelve hours now, the moon and stars slightly less than that, and the cooling air outside had taken on an extra chill. 

“Oh, am I glad to be out of there,” Rarity exclaimed. “There’s a reason I don’t go in for wilderness expeditions. I think I may have chipped a hoof.”

“We have a bath if you desire, to clean off all this horrible mire.” Zecora said with a chuckle, lightly imitating Rarity’s refined inflections.

“Darling, I have been through worse, believe it or not,” Rarity responded to the ribbing with a wry smile. “I think I can survive until I get back to the boutique. Besides, my mane needs special care; regular shampoos just won’t do, unfortunately.”

“Well, a bath does sound nice,” Fluttershy said, glancing around. “I probably will if nopony else- OH! Twilight!” she exclaimed.

“What?” Twilight grumbled irritably as she crossed the threshold. It was then she caught sight of herself in a mirror just inside the door.

Of the four, she was by far the worse for wear. There were branches and twigs tangled all through her mane. Her forelegs, chest and face were covered in dirt. Small scabs dotted her fur. A particularly nasty-looking scratch ran across the side of her neck. Several smaller ones on her chest and legs didn’t look much better.

“Is that… blood?!” Rarity said in horror, stepping closer. “Twilight, what… what happened?”

“I… I fell in a thornbush,” Twilight replied with more than a little embarrassment. She glanced at her bedraggled reflection again. “It looks a lot worse than it actually is,” she offered weakly. 

“No no no, these cuts need tended right away,” Fluttershy said, swooping in and examining Twilight gently. “You could get an infection! Zecora, draw a warm bath half-full. Rarity, there’s a first-aid kit in the kitchen, in the right-most cupboard under the sink.”

The other mares dashed off to perform their tasks as Fluttershy took Twilight’s saddlebags and led the sore and tired unicorn toward the bathroom. When they got there, Zecora already had the large claw-foot tub partially full. “The bath is warm and nearly ready to take. If you wish, a soothing balm of herbs I can make?”

“Yes, that would be perfect,” Fluttershy agreed. “Get in Twilight, please.”

“But-” Twilight protested.

“No buts, get in,” Fluttershy ordered, quietly but firmly.

Twilight complied. Truthfully, the warm water did feel wonderful even though it stung her cuts. Rarity arrived with the first-aid kit, and was immediately set to work brushing the brambles and foliage out of Twilight’s mane. 

Fluttershy gently cleaned Twilight’s wounds with soap and water. She rinsed the blood away and used a soft cloth to remove debris and a couple broken thorns. She washed the worst dirt from Twilight’s coat with a quick scrub down, while Rarity did the same with her mane. After a gentle towelling-off, she applied Zecora’s herbal mix to the largest cuts, then bandaged them loosely.

Through it all, Fluttershy hardly spoke, and only quietly said “sorry” whenever Twilight winced. It was odd being so closely attended by a pony who never made eye contact, but Twilight chalked it up to Fluttershy’s nearly crippling shyness. 

About twenty minutes later, Twilight was wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe and drinking tea in the living room. Zecora and Fluttershy were taking a moment to clean up; she could hear them somewhere else in the house talking to each other. 

“Oh, that feels better. Not perfect, but an improvement.” Rarity stepped inside from the front porch and flipped her mane. She had opted to simply brush the small amount of dirt and leaves out for now, until getting home to the boutique where she could use all her special shampoos and soaps for a “proper” bath. 

Rarity took the couch opposite Twilight. “How are you feeling?” She asked sincerely.

“Okay, I guess,” Twilight answered. “I didn’t realize in the dark how bad it was, and so I kind of just ignored the pain.”

“Goodness, that’s sounds awful. If you felt even a fraction as terrible as you looked… I shudder to think!”

“I suppose I was quite a sight.” Twilight smiled ruefully. “But really, I do feel much better.”

“Well, that’s Fluttershy for you,” Rarity said. “Honestly, I swear that pony has magic hooves.”

Twilight nodded and sipped her tea. She couldn’t place the kind of leaves or mixture that Zecora used, but it was amazing regardless. And the herbal poultice, Fluttershy’s placement of the bandages so as not to pull fur, the gentle cleaning of all that scratchy dirt…

“Those two really take their talents seriously, don’t they?” Twilight said, motioning a hoof toward the muffled voices. “I mean, I saw a bit of it when I was here before, but I never experienced it first-hoof.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Rarity responded. “Make sure you thank Fluttershy profusely; tonight hasn’t been easy for her.” 

The subtle tone in Rarity’s voice made it clear that she wasn’t referring to the incident at the castle, and Twilight again became very aware of her status as an outsider. Fluttershy may have been helping out of the goodness of her heart, but the reason for her silence around Twilight was now clear. 

There was a slight increase in the intensity of Fluttershy and Zecora’s voices, although Twilight still couldn’t hear what was being said. Abruptly, the distant conversation stopped, and an awkward silence crept into the air.

“Rarity,” Twilight said, breaking the silence. “I wanted to ask you… about what you said at the --”

“Hold that thought, dear,” Rarity interrupted, as hoofbeats came down the hall toward the living room.

Zecora entered a moment later. “I am sorry to keep you waiting, I had some things that needed aiding.”

“That’s quite all right darling,” Rarity replied. “How is our Fluttershy doing?”

“Still shaken and fearful it seems to be,” Zecora said. “She needs her rest, I’m sure you’ll agree.” The last sentence was said politely enough, but carried a definite undercurrent. 

Rarity nodded knowingly “Well, it is getting a little late. We shant keep you a moment longer.” She got up from the couch and pointedly motioned for Twilight to do the same. 

Twilight quickly finished her tea and got to her hooves. She removed the warm bathrobe and quickly folded it into a neat bundle. Passing Zecora, she passed the bathrobe and cleared her throat.

“Um, thank you for the tea, and the herbs, they’re really helping.” Twilight motioned to her bandages. “And please thank Fluttershy for me too; I really feel much better now.”

Zecora only nodded and half-smiled politely. Twilight took the hint and followed Rarity to the front door, where they said some brief goodbyes and quickly left. 





The two unicorns walked in silence for a few minutes. Their separate ways to the library and the boutique would probably diverge soon, but until then they shared the path into town. 

Twilight felt like she was going to explode. Her mind was a confused jumble of conflicting emotions and questions. Some were about the magic and the strange events they witnessed at the castle. Many were about the three mares she had been with, and what her status was with them. Some particularly pressing worries revolved around Rarity’s offer of friendship earlier in the evening.

In the grand scheme of things, the latter concerns seemed positively trivial compared to whatever powerful magic was at work in the old castle, but Twilight couldn’t focus anywhere else. There was a fork in the road ahead both figuratively and literally, and the castle could probably wait for now, but Rarity wouldn’t. 

With a deep breath to steady her nerves, Twilight took the plunge.

“Rarity, about what happened tonight…”

“Honestly dear, I’d rather not think about it,” Rarity curtly responded. “As it is, I’m going to have dreadful nightmares about that castle.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Twilight said. “I was actually referring to your offer of friendship.”

Rarity’s pace slowed, and her eyes defocused into the distance for a moment. “Oh, that,” she said flatly before resuming a normal walking speed. 

Twilight sighed and tried again to gather her unruly thoughts. When that failed, she decided to just keep talking. “I know that was probably very difficult for you, considering… well, everything that’s happened.”

Rarity only nodded. 

Twilight continued: “I really appreciate you reaching out like that, but…” She took a deep breath. “...I really don’t think I can accept it.”

The last words flowed almost without thinking, and almost immediately Twilight regretted them. 

Rarity’s ears flattened and her jaw stiffened. “I’m… sorry you feel that way.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Twilight’s voice was rushed now, “I really do want to, but… I can’t. I made a commitment, and going back on that would mean betraying everything that I am, and -”

“And what are you, Twilight Sparkle?” Rarity stopped and rounded suddenly, eyes glaring. “Please, do tell me, because I’m dying to know. Are you Discord’s willing errand-pony, going here and there, destroying any chance at normalcy for the will of our glorious Emperor? Are you a confused mare caught between your job and your heart? Or are you nothing more than the two-faced deceiver you’ve shown yourself to be?”

Twilight cowered under the verbal onslaught, but Rarity wasn’t finished.

“There’s a reason there’s only six of us in our little circle, counting Zecora. We have to be careful who we try to befriend. Some ponies would actively sell us out. Some simply don’t understand anything but Chaos and would tear apart everything we’ve built. And yet, we made an exception for you. For some reason I simply cannot fathom, I want to be your friend, even though everything about you says I should get as far away as possible. The others feel it too, but they can’t explain it either.

“And we tried, Twilight, but apparently you didn’t want it, despite your protest to the contrary just now. I will admit, there were moments when I thought you’d come around, but we must not have been worth it! Poor Fluttershy was positively inconsolable for days! I would wager she’s at home, crying her eyes out right now. So please, enlighten me as to who or what you are, so I can decide if I want to be friends with that mare!”

“I… I’m…” Twilight’s voice died in her throat.

“And do not say ‘I’m sorry’, because at this point it’s not worth the breath wasted. If I hear another word, it had better be a reason why I should ever trust you again.”

Twilight’s knees were shuddering. She could hardly breathe for the lump of emotion in her throat. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, but no words would form. 

After a few moments, Rarity simply nodded and wordlessly started walking down the path again.

“Rarity, just -”

“Goodnight, Twilight Sparkle.”

Emotion overwhelming her, Twilight stood for a moment as Rarity’s light spell receded into the darkness. Her jumble of thoughts had become a hurricane, and she couldn’t find which way was up any further.

After a moment she finally found her legs, willed them into a full gallop, and for the second time that day Twilight Sparkle fled from Rarity. 





The library door slammed, and Twilight slumped to the floor. She didn’t summon any light. She didn’t need it. Unlike the oppressive blackness outside, the dark inside the library was somehow comforting, and she let it wrap around her like a blanket, hiding her from the world.

The tears never came, although she tried again and again to force them out. Oh Discord, she wanted to cry, to keep crying, but all she could do was gasp and grit her teeth at the welling of emotion. She couldn’t rationalize any of it. All she could do was feel. 

It was strange, some far-detached part of her mused, that crying was such a catharsis. The simple feeling of tears running down her cheeks would make dealing with the swirling emotions easier. As it was, she couldn’t tell between anger, pain, fear, sorrow… She just curled in tightly on herself as the torrent of feelings surged inside her. 

She didn’t know how long she laid there, but eventually, her breathing slowed and became regular again. Her normal thought processes returned, and she gradually became aware of being cold. It wasn’t a biting, chilly cold; just… uncomfortable.

Of course, she chided herself. You’re lying on the hardwood floor of an unheated building in the middle of an endless night. Of course you’re cold. 

She cast her mind around for something that might help, and then remembered. That blanket Rarity gave me would be perfect right about now, she thought.

But you put it downstairs when you left, another part of her brain complained. That means getting out of bed again.

Too bad someone can’t just bring it here, the first part agreed. 

A soft warm weight settled gently over her. “Oh, thank you.”

“T’wér plesén oús,” another voice answered.

Twilight’s eyes shot open. In a panic, she rolled out of the bed and tried to locate the voice, then instantly wished she hadn’t.

Standing on the opposite side of the bedroom, tall as the ceiling, dark royal blue, clad in terrible armor and silhouetted in the light of the crescent moon outside the window, was the Night-Mare. 

Twilight tried to scream, but the sound died in her throat and only came out sounding like a squeak. She fumbled backward until there was no where else to go, and braced herself tightly  against the wall, hooves sliding on the floor in a panic.

She was dead now, she knew it. The towering alicorn could strangle her with a mere thought, incinerate her with a flick of her horn, or opt to simply crush the tiny unicorn under a massive armored horseshoe. 

Yet none of that happened. Instead, the huge creature seemed to be studying Twilight, her visage a mask framed by the intricately crafted war helm she wore. Through the terror, Twilight thought she saw a slight expression of amusement pass over the Night-Mare’s face. 

“Feáyrd thé arén oús?”

The voice was regal, clipped, powerful. It sounded like the flowing of a thousand rivers, and Twilight cowered before it. She didn’t know the language, couldn’t answer.

The Night-Mare cocked her head slightly, as if she were studying a particularly intelligent mouse, then spoke again, slowly. “Art thou afraid of us?”

All Twilight could do was nod. At least the alicorn knew multiple languages, it seemed. 

“Thou rememb’rest not our name?” The Night-Mare took a few huge steps forward, around the end of the bed. Her booming hoof-falls echoed off the walls, shaking the floor beneath them. 

Gasping in fear, Twilight skittered backward again, trying to put as much space between herself and the terrifying creature as possible. Her mind was playing catch up, trying to figure out why she wasn’t already dead, but her flight response was still in full control.

The huge alicorn sighed, apparently in resignation. “Ah, ‘tis as we hath feared, to wake when naught were known save myth and legend.”

Twilight’s heart was still pounding out of her chest, but a tiny voice of reason began to trickle in. She was still alive, and that had to count for something. Perhaps the Night-Mare could be reckoned with.

“Wha… what… do you… want?” Twilight finally whispered. 

“Want?” The alicorn was on Twilight’s side of the bed now, and covered the distance between them in a single stride. “Many desires be ours little one, but forsooth, nary a one more than this...”

The Night-Mare lowered her head level with Twilight’s, and whispered a single word. “Revenge.”





Twilight woke with a start and sat upright. The bedroom was pitch black, and she lit her horn. Empty. No Night-Mare, nothing but the bed, the night-stand, a dresser, and a small bookshelf. 

She was sweating and panting, but her breathing quickly slowed when she finally determined there was no immediate danger. Just a bad dream, probably brought on by her experience at the castle. Which reminded her, she needed to figure out what had happened, what was probably still happening out there in the forest.

Still, she was tired, and a bad dream didn’t count for much in the way of sleep. Snuggling back down under Rarity’s blanket, she promised herself that tomorrow -

Rarity’s blanket.

Sitting bolt upright again, she stared down at the simple feather-stuffed comforter, chaos-imbued print shifting silently to random objects and patterns. It was the one Rarity had made for her, for sure, but she didn’t remember getting it. In fact, she didn't even remember coming to the bedroom at all.

Twilight ran a hoof over the blanket to make sure it was real, as thoughts whirled in her head.

What was going on?

> Chapter 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cursing her luck for what seemed like the hundredth time this week, Applejack slipped into the uncomfortable lantern harness. By her own relatively flexible schedule it was morning, perhaps earlier than she normally liked, but the sky remained dark without even stars, making use of the jerry-rigged contraption a necessity.

Finally getting the repurposed saddle belt tightened around her midsection, she struck her steel horseshoe against a piece of flint and cast a spark into the lantern sitting on the floor. Unlike most ponies who went barehoof or wore stylishly fitted shoes and boots, Applejack preferred to keep these old-fashioned ones semi-permanently affixed, renailing them herself as necessary.

Years of practice paid off yet again as the wick caught on the first try. Bending to the floor, she slid the extended polearm of the harness into the lantern’s handle and lifted it off the floor. The harness shifted to one side under the added weight, so she readjusted to keep the lantern steady and high, then donned her favorite wide-brimmed hat.

Stepping out the door into the dark, she headed for the barn. There was some sort of intermittent commotion coming from out that way, and she only hoped it was something relatively innocent, and not another timberwolf attack. Even though the barn was reinforced and mostly secure, memories were still raw from the last incident.

It had been a particularly chaotic season that year, even though Applejack’s family farm was carved out of the Everfree forest to take advantage of the less-chaotic magical atmosphere. Unfortunately, the tradeoff was the increased risk of natural predators. The barn, built with timberwolves in mind, had one of its reinforced walls randomly replaced with spun cotton, and an older cow had been killed before the wolves were driven off. The others knew it wasn’t anypony’s fault, but Applejack still lost a fourth of her regular milk suppliers over it. 

Thankfully, the closer she got, the less it sounded like a timberwolf attack. There were some angry and painful shouts coming from the main floor, punctuated by an occasional round of rowdy laughter. It reminded Applejack more of a saloon brawl than anything.

She unlocked the barn door and slid it open, and quickly saw the cause of the noise. At least a dozen cows were circled around, laughing and carousing as three or four of them wrestled in the center of the floor. 

Applejack approached the cow nearest her. “Clarabell, what in tarnation is goin’ on here?”

Clarabell turned and grinned lopsidedly. “Oh hey Applejack! We were getting up and ready, and Marlene accidentally knocked over an old crate. I didn’t know you kept your cider stored this long, but it turned out nicely!”

She passed over a familiar-looking jug of Apple family cider. Applejack turned the jug around and did a double-take.

“Clarabell, this stuff is leftover from last year’s cider harvest,” she exclaimed. “It should’ve been sold right after bein’ pressed! Y’all consider yourselves lucky it fermented alright instead of goin’ rotten.”

Clarabell giggled. “Oh, whoops. Guess we got a little carried away and didn’t think .”

“I’ll say,” Applejack responded. She began collecting the remainder of the cider jugs from the disappointed cows. “Alright girls, party’s over! No milkin’ today, but y’all need to sleep this off so ya don’t tip over on me tomorrow.”

There were a few protests, but none serious. The cows wrestling in the middle of the floor stopped and got to their hooves as well, and followed the rest back to the sleeping stalls. Applejack noticed one of them was limping.

“Darla, you okay? Ya seem to be favorin’ your leg there.”

Big Darla half-smiled. “Oh, it’s nothing, just a bit sore. Bessie Mae fell on me, is all. ”

“Looks like ya done bruised or sprained it pretty bad,” Applejack said, examining the red and swelling leg. Thankfully, no bones were compromised. “Nothin’ dangerous, but ya better stay off it. I’ll need to get some herbs and a wrap for ya so it heals up quick.”

She led the cow to her stall and instructed her to lie down, and not put any weight on the bruised leg. Big Darla agreed, and Applejack headed back to the farmhouse.

On the way, she gathered the fermented cider jugs and poured them in a patch of weeds at the corner of the house. A small sip revealed it wasn’t half-bad, but definitely not something she would sell without proper preparation. Fermentation could be a fickle process, prone to bizarre failure more often than not due to Chaos, and wasn’t something she had the proper equipment for anyway.

Unfortunately, a thorough perusal of  the farm’s medical supplies also revealed they were out of Zecora’s famous medicinal poultices, and Applejack didn’t have the right ingredients to make them. She could just do a simple wrap, but it wouldn’t work nearly as well, and Big Darla would need her leg healed up quickly in order to stand for milking. 

Cursing her luck for the hundred and first time this week, Applejack prepared to go out again. “Apple Bloom, you awake?” she called from the front door.

“Yeah, I’m up,” came the delayed reply, as a sleepy-eyed filly came into view. “Whatcha need?”

“Big Darla bruised her leg last night, and we’re out of herbs. I’ll be goin’ out to Zecora’s to fetch what we need for a wrap. You okay to hold down the fort ‘til I’m back?”

“Sure thing sis. Want me to make some breakfast while you’re gone?”

“That’d be great,” Applejack replied. “Wake Spike to help you, an’ just don’t burn the house down, ya hear?”

“I won’t!” Apple Bloom said indignantly. “That was once, like, months ago.”

“Alright, I’m just playin’ with ya,” Applejack chuckled, donning her saddlebags. “Be back in a bit. Love ya, little sis.”

“Love ya too big sis!”





The bedroom ceiling filled Twilight’s vision, softly lit by the four or five flickering candles that were starting to burn low. The warmth of Rarity’s blanket still wrapped around her, and she felt it yet again to remind herself it was actually there.

Rolling to her left, Twilight picked up her journal and read again what she’d written earlier.



I can no longer am not Twilight Sparkle the organized, secret harmonizer. I will be Twilight Sparkle, Agent of Chaos, Bringer of Discord, regardless of what anypony thinks of me. I will forsake petty desires in my quest to spread the will of our glorious Emperor. I will

~~~

When I got into Ponyville earlier yesterday, I should have known something was wrong. We have measures of time, and although the heavenly orbs rarely follow them, there’s at least an average where light and dark even out. A constant pitch-black sky might happen for a few minutes at most, but hours? The inhibition of the local Chaos effects should have been my second warning. Why couldn’t I recognize the control magic until I was right on top of it?

I’m still frightened TERRIFIED from last night, though. After Rarity, Zecora, and Fluttershy followed me to the old castle, I’ll swear to my grave the statue of the Night-Mare turned to look at us. I still can’t explain who or what might have caused it. Later, I had a dream where she visited me and spoke of wanting revenge. On who, I’m not sure.

What’s worse, I don’t know if it was actually a dream or not. I don’t remember bringing Rarity’s blanket to bed. I don’t even remember exactly when I fell asleep, either on the library floor or in the bedroom. I’ve tried to convince myself it was a chaotic event. Perhaps the blanket dragged itself upstairs? No, that doesn’t ring true. At the level of chaotic inhibition I’m sensing, at very best roses might change to daisies, or chocolate to taffy. I just don’t know.



Twilight reached the end of the entry and sat the journal down. She journaled to exorcise her demons, make logical sense of that which could not be simply conceptualized in her brain. Yet she’d written that entry over an hour ago, and her mind was still clouded, swirling with thoughts and emotions she could not reconcile.

These thoughts revolved around her one-time friends, mostly. Rarity’s incredibly generous offer of forgiveness and acceptance in the face of total betrayal. Fluttershy’s tender kindness as she willingly washed a traitor’s wounds. Zecora’s knowledge and ability for discernment, belied by her pithy rhyming couplets.

But Rarity’s final words on the dark path last night were like knives, and try as she might Twilight could not ignore them cutting through the scars Discord had left in her soul. All she could hope to do was answer somehow.

She picked up the journal and quill again.



Rarity asked me last night: What am I? Discord’s pawn? A confused mare caught between worlds? A heartless deceiver? Maybe all three.

The few weeks I previously spent in Ponyville were some of the best of my life. I made friends, when I didn’t even know that such a thing existed. Having other ponies who not only accept me for who I am, but provide stability and somepony to turn to when life gets too bizarre… It goes against all the things I’ve been taught, but it felt so right.

Part of me really wants to accept her offer and reconcile with the others if they’ll let me. But then where would I fit in? Rarity’s right, why do they want to be my friends at all? I don’t know what I can bring to them, so why bother?

As much as I hate to consider the possibility, maybe these ponies and I are not ourselves. Harmony breeds control, and both magics are present in the old castle. All the mares I’ve met who hold to the ideals of Friendship have also been to the old castle at some point or another. Perhaps we’re simply under the influence of the Tree of Harmony, in which case I would be doing all of us a favor by destroying its power.

It has to be that. Their feelings, the same ones I feel, are merely a temporary panacea blinding them from truly understanding chaos, and I must help them see that, no matter how much it hurts. Ponies forsook Harmony long ago because it only led to control and dictatorship under the two sisters, or so the legend goes. 

Additionally, I can’t simply ignore everything I’ve learned. We give ourselves to the will of Chaos so that nothing can submit us to that control again. I swore to uphold Chaos and bring its magic to all I meet. I’ve faltered, I’ve disappointed my mentor, and I must now make good on my vows.

I am Twilight Sparkle, Agent of Chaos, Harbinger of Entropy, Bringer of Discord. I will forsake my own petty desires to spread the Magic of Chaos and fulfill the ideals of our glorious Emperor, and I will start by destroying the Tree of Harm~



The quill broke, tearing the page and smearing ink. Twilight cursed at herself, but in truth the entry was more-or-less done, and new quills were easy to come by. She wiped the tears from her eyes, and rationalized the strain of reading and writing by candlelight was probably to blame.

Twilight left the journal open on the nightstand to avoid any smears until the ink dried, and climbed out of bed. By her estimate it was morning, although there was still not a light to be seen in the sky. She gazed out the window across the intermittently-lit town, toward the Everfree Forest. Deep within it lay the old castle, the Tree of Harmony… and the Night-Mare.

She felt the clutch of fear in her gut, but she forced it down. Specter of dreams or not, she had a mission to fulfill. Although the thought of entering the Everfree in the dark again gave her no pleasure, she’d been in there once already and nothing had attacked her besides a thornbush. She could probably find the way easier too, now that she’d done it once. She’d get to the castle, sneak to the caves just in case something was waiting to sic an animate statue on her, plant the Seeds of Discord around the Tree of Harmony, and be on the next train out of town.

On a whim, Twilight reached into her saddlebacks with her magic, fished around in them until she found the little burlap sack tucked safely at the bottom, and brought it before her. She noted the subtle yet intricate and complex enchantment embedded deep in the fibers of the bag, probably to keep the seeds from growing prematurely. A gentle tug at the drawstring opened the bag, and she levitated one of the seeds out. 

Visually, the seed was unremarkable. Small and black, somewhat misshapen, it could pass for any normal plant seed, to the untrained eye. 

What surprised her most was the magic. The seed was practically bursting with a powerful cocktail of spells, deep and old, more than she could possibly hope to unravel. It was unsettling. Even as she held the seed in her magic, it seemed to visibly cloud the bubble of telekinetic energy suspending it…

She dropped the seed into the bag and cinched it tight again, then released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Whatever magic had created these, it was more than she wanted to know. She tucked the seeds deeply into the saddlebag again.

Twilight sighed. No sense putting it off any longer. The quicker she got this done, the quicker she could leave and forget the whole business. 

Slipping on a light jacket to counter the growing chill in the air, Twilight grabbed a light breakfast and headed out the front door. After checking more carefully to make sure she wasn’t followed, she headed off in the dark toward the Everfree.





“This will be the last you need,” Zecora placed the final bundle of herbs in Applejack saddlebags. “And the wrap for Darla should succeed.”

“Thanks a heap Zecora,” Applejack said. “Should be enough to last me a couple months at least, providin’ the cows don’t get into any more old cider or somethin’. I tell ya, sometimes babysittin’ them ladies is tougher than keepin’ ‘em milked.”

“That any cider was left, I’m quite appalled. If Rainbow Dash knew she would have taken it all!”

“Darn tootin’!” Applejack agreed, as both ponies shared a hearty chuckle. Then her voice took on a more serious tone. “Speakin’ of Rainbow, have you seen her ‘round here lately? I ain’t caught hide nor hair of her for more’n a week now.”

With a shrug, Zecora locked her outdoor herb closet and walked with Applejack toward the house. “Not even a hint of color have I seen; she’s gone without a trace it would seem.”

“That there’s bothersome, I tell ya,” Applejack said. “She ain’t been quite the same since that whole Twilight Sparkle thing, and it’s done got me worried.”

Zecora’s countenance darkened. “Then there is more that should be known: Twilight is here, her face she has shown.”

Applejack reared back in surprise and stomped her hooves as a sudden surge of anger welled up. “Whoa there nelly, did you just say what I think you said?”

“Yes, Twilight Sparkle is in town, she arrived yesterday after the sun was down.” Zecora motioned to the dark sky. 

The mares reached the house. Unspoken understanding dictated that Applejack would not be coming inside as she needed to get back to the farm, so they stopped on the porch instead.

“Well, did she say why she was here?” Applejack tried to keep her voice neutral; the flash of anger had not dissipated, but was growing in her chest. 

“To learn her purpose, we certainly tried,” Zecora said, shaking her head in resignation, “but I fear for our efforts she has only lied.”

Zecora briefly summed up yesterdays events: Rarity meeting Twilight at the train station, then visiting Zecora and Fluttershy, then the three of them following Twilight to the old castle in the forest, and finally the frightening experience with the statue of the Night-Mare and the mysterious magic at the castle. She took special care to emphasize Twilight’s behavior, and with each subsequent revelation, Applejack’s jaw tightened.

“So she says she’s ‘studyin’ more magic’, huh?” Applejack mused when the story was finished. “Gotta say, that don’t inspire much confidence.”

“She’s hiding something, this much I can see,” Zecora agreed, “but her motives are a mystery to me.”

“I could just hog-tie her and buck her teeth in if she don’t fess up,” Applejack said darkly.

“You certainly are most welcome to try,” Zecora replied with a snort, “though you should keep it secret from our poor Fluttershy.”

At the mention of the tender pegasus’ name, Applejack released the tension in her jaw and shoulders. As angry as she was, it wasn’t worth hurting another pony just to try and make herself feel better. Fluttershy had taught her that much.

“No, I reckon that wouldn’t do,” she said as her emotions cooled slightly. “Fluttershy might never forgive me if’n she found out, and breakin’ teeth never set anypony’s problems right.”

“Then what of a plan, what should it be? Do we care what she wants in the old Everfree?”

Applejack shrugged. “To be frank it ain’t really our business, ‘cept if she’s tryin’ to do harm, more’n what’s already been done. I’m still mighty curious though...”

Zecora suddenly looked past Applejack, then reached up and shrouded the porch lantern. “Applejack, look that way and douse your light; I can see something moving out there in the night!”

Applejack blinked in confusion, but turned around and did as instructed, blowing out the wick on her harness lantern. She’d learned long ago that when Zecora spoke, it was well to pay heed. 

The porch was plunged into darkness aside, from a slight glow behind the window shutters. Applejack squinted out toward the invisible horizon, but nothing caught her straining eyes. “What? I can’t -”

“Be still a moment and give me your trust,” Zecora said, “you must wait until your eyes adjust.”

Applejack sighed and continued staring, then realized what Zecora had seen. 

The cabin’s placement on the edge of the Everfree Forest did more than afford a lesser influence of Chaos magic. The forest was massive, but its boundary only curved gently around where Ponyville had been built, and it was possible to see at least a mile along the treeline in either direction when the light was right. 

The light at this moment was far from right, but fortunately the line-of-sight was not otherwise impeded. It took a minute, but once Applejack’s eyes became accustomed to the darkness, she was able to faintly see a tiny circle of purple magic, dancing far away along the edge of the forest.

“Well, I’ll be… Zecora, how in tarnation did you see that?”

“A zebra’s eyesight is better than most,” Zecora said with a chuckle. “And of carrots I eat a healthy dose!”

“You must,” Applejack said in admiration. “So I s’ppose that’s Twilight out there, judgin’ by the color of the magic.”

“I would be surprised if it were not her, but that is her light-spell, I am fairly sure.” Zecora unshrouded the porch lantern. “Though to enter the forest is not a crime, I wonder why she would go a second time.”

Applejack blinked a few times against the sudden light, then searched the distance again for Twilight’s spell. Even knowing where to look, it was nearly impossible to see without being adjusted to the darkness.

“Well, now she’s got my attention,” Applejack said, relighting her own lantern. “After what you told me, I wouldn’t figure on anypony goin’ back into that forest in the dark. She’s either crazy, or there’s somethin’ mighty important in that forest.”

Zecora kept staring out into the darkness at the practically-invisible distant light. “Whatever thing she so badly wants, it lies within the old castle’s haunts. I don’t understand what it could be, except for maybe the crystal tree.”

“Must have somethin’ to do with that, at least a little...” Applejack bit her lower lip, conflicted. She knew she had to get back to the farm; Darla’s leg still needed tending, and Apple Bloom probably nearly had breakfast done. On the other hoof, this was a perfect opportunity to find out exactly what Twilight Sparkle was doing back in town, and if they should be worried or not. 

“Zecora, can you do me a favor if it ain’t too much to ask?”

“Whatever you request, I will do my best.”

Applejack removed her saddlebags. “This wonderin’ and speculatin’ is just too much for me. Can you run these to the farm and let Apple Bloom know I’m gonna be late? I wanna find out for myself what Twilight’s up to.”

Zecora gave her a look. “In this darkness she is hard to track… will you need my help, friend  Applejack?”

“Nah, you’ve been in there once already last night,” Applejack replied. “I can look after myself just fine, and I wouldn’t ask you to go in again after what happened. Besides, one pony will be able to keep out of sight easier than two or three, and I reckon it’ll take some sneakin’ to find out what she’s up to.”

“Then I will do your favor, if you are sure,” Zecora said, the worry clear in her voice, “but take great care; for a lost friend there is no cure.”

The words warmed Applejack’s heart. For all she’d taught them of friendship, Zecora’s straightforward personality and rhyming language sometimes made it difficult to gauge her feelings. Moments like this were little reminders of how much she really did care for her friends, and Applejack treasured every one. 

“Will do, sugarcube,” Applejack said. She stepped in and gave Zecora a tight hug. “Now don’t you worry; I’ve been out that-a-way before, gettin’ gems for Spike, and I know the paths well-enough. Have yourself a bite of breakfast while you’re at the farm so it don’t go to waste.”

Zecora thanked her for the offer and left a quick note for the still-sleeping Fluttershy. Once their goodbyes were said and Zecora was trotting off toward Sweet Apple Acres, Applejack turned to the forest, steeled her nerves, and stepped into the darkness.





Even disregarding the previous incident with the rosebush, Twilight’s second journey through the Everfree Forest was shockingly uneventful. She had expected the mostly-nocturnal wildlife to be more active, but it seemed the darkness was unnerving even the vicious timberwolves and self-luminescent constellation beasts into staying hidden and safe.

At a moderate trot, she arrived at the castle quicker than expected. She noted with concern that the magical surge from the Tree of Harmony had not dissipated in the slightest, and was still at the high level from when she’d left.

Conversely, the control magic in the air was definitely weaker, although that still wasn’t very comforting. Twilight’s entire family consisted of powerful magic-users, and any of them (herself included) would have trouble sustaining even a fraction of this spell for more than a few hours without help. The slight weakening was merely an indication the spell-caster was getting a little tired.

She gulped. Whoever was maintaining this spell had to be one of the most powerful beings in all of Discordia, the Emperor himself included. 

Although the very thought was terrifying, Twilight managed to convince herself that another visit to the inner courtyard was in order. It was on her way to the dungeon entrance, and she wanted to see if there had been any further effects since she and the others had fled. 

Creeping as quietly as equinely possible, she made her way to the courtyard entrance. With every step, her heart beat faster in her chest, so loud she was sure it was echoing off the walls. The soft, dim blue light was still present, and she doused her light-spell when it was bright enough to see without it. 

She took several deep breaths to calm her heart. She didn’t know what she would find, but she hoped at least the statue was back in its normal pose. Perhaps then she could convince herself it had merely been an illusion. She slowly leaned around the corner, praying it had been a trick of her mind…

The statue was gone.

Twilight’s blood chilled in her veins as she stared, mouth agape, at the empty pedestal. No broken-off supports, no shattered chunks of stone. Only a bit of dust and a few crumbled pebbles adorned the smooth marble surface. It was like the statue had never been there at all.

Resisting the urge to run screaming from the castle again, Twilight pulled back into the hallway and pressed herself tight against the wall, her heart again pounding against her ribs. She hadn’t expected this. Who would want to remove the statue, and why? Just to scare the little ponies exploring the castle? Hopefully keep anypony from coming back?

Then a possibility entered her mind that hadn’t before, at least not that she’d given any serious consideration to. She knew the legend about the Sky-Mares being turned to stone, but she’d always considered it merely that; a legend, an allegory, a parable, folklore filling in what history could not. It was so far-fetched… but what if…

What if the Night-Mare in this castle was the real one? What if the statue was alive? 

The very thought nearly drove Twilight into a panic attack, that the terrible god-pony from her dream was possibly stalking through the castle at this very moment… hungry, vengeful… just watching… waiting… planning for the right moment to strike and…

She shook her head and clapped her hooves to her temples, trying to think rationally. It was crazy, she knew, but she did crazy every day, didn’t she? After all, she’d seen cats don nutcracker costumes and perform a Taurinetino-esque version of Mother Griffon’s Stories for Fillies just last week; statues coming to life wasn’t that much different, right?

Of course, this wasn’t Chaos magic at work, like she was familiar with. This was premeditated, calculating magic, cold and sterile as a surgeon’s knife. There was intent here. It didn’t matter if it was a stone statue being controlled by an unknown party, or an ancient physical goddess returned to life after a thousand years of imprisonment; it would not be content to simply dance a little jig and go away.

Part of her animal brain was screaming that she needed to get out of there as soon as possible. Another more logical part was reminding her to complete her task, so she could leave and never come back. That also had merit because the Night-Mare would likely attack head-on, and if she hadn’t already, then it was possible Twilight’s presence was still undetected. Of course, it was still more appealing to simply panic and flee.

The two conflicting parts of her mind battled for a few minutes. Stay a bit longer, plant the seeds and be done, or leave now and hope for a better chance later. Back and forth, each side rehashing the risks and rewards. 

After a few minutes, finally the rational side won out and she decided to try for planting the seeds. Twilight managed to get feeling back into her hooves and begin sneaking away from and around the courtyard. Her heart had not stopped pounding, but she had her wits about her again, and that was her greatest strength. 

The dungeon entrance was only a couple hallways over, and she reached it quickly with no incident. Though she’d been straining her ears, there were no sounds behind or ahead of her. All she could hear was her own heartbeat and shallow breathing.

Something else worried her, though. The ambient blue light she’d thought localized around the courtyard had not diminished with distance. In fact, it almost seemed to be on the same path she’d taken to the dungeon, and illuminated the descending stairs as well. Twilight began to wonder if the magic was following her somehow, or if it was here for some other reason. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she descended into the dungeons. 

The stairs were shallow and steep, making it uncomfortable to walk down. She had to either side-step or keep her back legs bent to avoid tipping forward. It might have been necessary to design the steps this way for some reason, but she wondered if it was more intentional, to instill discomfort in any would-be prisoners as they were led to their cells.

As she reached the bottom and continued past the cell blocks, her mind wandered back in time. What was it like under the Royal Sisters? Would these dungeons have been full to bursting with ponies refusing to be controlled, or had the ponies of yesteryear been more willing to subject themselves to dictators who ruled with iron hooves? What kinds of injustice had been perpetrated on dissidents? Were prisoners subjected to horrible and archaic tortures, or simply left to rot and waste away?

So many questions, so few answers she could glean from this short visit. Twilight honestly didn’t care especially for history by itself; rather, she enjoyed learning and discovering things. There was so much she could discover here, but unfortunately it would have to wait. 

Soon she reached the edge of the dungeon, where one of the outer walls had fallen to the ravages of time and collapsed into a neighboring cave. She noted with concern that the soft blue light had still not dimmed at all, but remained steady and continued on into the caverns. She couldn’t shake an uneasy feeling that the light was leading her into a trap, but she’d come too far to go back now.

Hopefully it was something more benign or natural, though. The control magic in the courtyard above seemed to gain power from the Tree of Harmony, although whether symbiotic or parasitic, it was impossible to determine right now. The only thing she knew for sure was that the two magical sources were connected somehow, and it made sense for a sort of “pathway” to develop between them.

Even as she moved through the caves, following the pathway, she noted the distinction between the two magics was starting to lessen. The lines were becoming blurred and she could no longer clearly tell where one started and another began. The fields fused in a kind of bizarre synthesis.

The light was changing, too. As she neared the Tree of Harmony, the soft, ambient blue glow combined and gave way to a brighter, silvery-cold light, distinctly emanating from around a curve in the passage ahead.

When she entered the cavern, Twilight gasped. The crystalline tree had physically grown since she’d last seen it. It hadn’t quite doubled in size, but was very close to it. The facets seemed more polished, and six large gems on the major arms were subtly glowing with internal light. Various other smaller gems were inlaid or protruding from the tree, some others had fallen into the dirt. Most of the gems appeared perfectly cut, and many were probably close to fine jewelery standards. 

Twilight felt her resolve falter as she gazed on the radiant, sparkling display. How could she destroy such a thing, even considering only it’s aesthetic beauty? Such a glorious specimen deserved more than being hidden in a dank underground cavern. She wanted to bring her friends, study the magic of Harmony that made the tree grow, cultivate it, share it with -

She stopped and shook her head. Bring her friends? Cultivate the magic of Harmony? What was wrong with her?

Then she found it in the back of her mind, deep in her heart. Something pressing… no, it wasn’t pressure. It was beckoning to her, not pulling, pushing, or forcing, but gently encouraging her to come forward, learn more, see the magic of Harmony, the magic of Friendship. It promised laughter, kindness, loyalty, honesty, generosity…

It promised acceptance and love. 

Her front knees buckled. Twilight staggered as the familiar longing rose in her chest, and the little unicorn became keenly, painfully aware of how small and hollow she really was. 

It would be easy. She could forsake Chaos, accept Harmony. Her friends would forgive her, she knew. She would reject Discord, and -

No.

Harmony recoiled slightly. It seemed confused, but reached out and beckoned again.

Twilight recovered her weak knees and stood again to face the tree. Part of her rose up in defiance, a little steely voice in her heart and mind.

“No,” she said again, out loud this time. 

She could feel it now, at the center of who she was, formerly a bright star of naive idealism, now collapsed. Discord had snuffed it out, and replaced it with a dense, impenetrable core, a seed of cynicism, immune to the wrenching, grasping pull of Friendship. Her teacher had shown her, cruel though his methods were, and as the figurative seed grew to fill her hollowness, she finally understood for herself what she’d been taught and had told herself all her life.

Harmony was a temporary placebo, selling order and control as a drug of happiness. It was a happiness that could not last, and Twilight Sparkle’s hardened heart would have none of its lies. 

“I know what you are now,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “I trusted you before, and look what it got me; nothing but sorrow and pain, ponies that hate me for trying to show them the truth and save them from you.”

She reached deep in her saddlebags and retrieved the small burlap sack. Even through the protective enchantments, she could feel the magical seeds. They knew, and they were hungry.

“I won’t let you control me, I won’t listen to your promises!” She was nearly shouting now as she untied the bag. “You made me hurt, and I don’t want to hurt anymore!”

Twilight unleashed her magic, and hurled the Seeds of Discord at the Tree of Harmony.

> Chapter 6
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Quiet, heaving sobs wracked Twilight’s body as she laid in the dirt, face buried between her forelegs. Tears soaked her cheeks and turned the dust under her snout to mud.

“I did it,” she gasped to herself. “It’s over. It’s over.”

She was finding it to difficult to qualify why she was crying. Part of her rationalized that it was simply a stress release; after so much buildup and agonizing, the relief at finally completing her task was simply too overwhelming. That made sense, and she was inclined to believe in it.

There was another part, small and nagging, that told her otherwise. Planting the seeds was a mistake. She had just destroyed the catalyst of friendship for several poor ponies who didn’t understand any better. Illusory happiness or not, they’d never forgive her for this. Gone forever was any sliver of hope for that joyful acceptance they’d been so willing to give. 

But wasn’t that what she wanted? Friendship and Harmony was a lie, an artificial construct of control that would eventually end in nothing but pain and misery. Better to cut those ties off as soon as possible, or avoid them completely.

Twilight had done that. She’d severed the ties of Friendship, rejected the allure of Harmony, and ensured the continued reign of Discord’s glorious Chaos for her generation and a thousand generations to follow. 

So why did she feel so awful?

She indulged the tears for a few more moments before forcing herself to push down the emotion in her chest. She’d have time to agonize over whatever it was later. Right now, she had to get out of this castle. With a shuddering sigh, she wiped her tears and got to her hooves.

A quick glance confirmed The Seeds of Discord were scattered haphazardly on the dirt and rock around the tree. Surprisingly, they appeared inert; Twilight had expected them to dig themselves into the ground and immediately begin growing black tendrils or something, but that obviously wasn’t the case.

She shrugged to herself and prepared to leave, making sure her saddlebag was closed and secure. She left the burlap sack where she’d thrown it, hovering above the cave floor. Now, just to get back up to the surface through the dungeons and into the forest…

Twilight froze as the realization hit her. The burlap sack was not resting on the dirt. Rather, it was suspended about a hoof-height from the surface.

She stared at the floating bag for a moment, looked at her hooves, then kicked a tiny dust plume just to make sure they were definitely touching the ground.

The nervous feeling was back in her stomach again. She knelt down low and looked parallel to the cave floor, then finally saw it: Neither the bag nor the seeds were in contact with the surface. There was a shimmer of sorts, like a pane of glass, but so faint she could barely make it out. 

Something was protecting the Tree of Harmony, and Twilight had the feeling she knew exactly what it was. 

With a crushing sense of dread, she slowly looked back, then gasped in horror as her worst fears were confirmed. 

The Night-Mare was standing directly behind her. 

Even in the most vivid of dreams, there is still an underlying sense of unreality. Faces aren’t always clear, ponies don’t always move or talk correctly, clocks never show the same time if looked at twice. It may feel real when it’s happening, but it’s never quite right.

In this case, it was most definitely not a dream. Twilight could see every exact detail, from the arcane runes engraved on the Night-Mare’s battle armor, to the distant constellations and galaxies in her flowing, ethereal mane. She was tall and elegant, nearly twice the height of a normal pony. Her coat was dark royal blue, fading to haunches black as ink that were marked with a brilliant crescent moon. But it was her eyes that were the most compelling; deep as the night sky, with turquoise irises and the shimmering highlights of a thousand distant stars.

Eyes that were filled with cold fury, and fixed directly on Twilight Sparkle.

It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, but it seemed like an eternity of terror before the towering alicorn spoke.

“What is thy name?”

Twilight cried out. The voice in her dream had not done justice to the roaring torrent of power assaulting her ears. She cowered and held her hooves to her throbbing skull.

“Thy name, little one, what may it be?” The Night-Mare stepped forward, her thunderous voice matched only by the heavy thump of her armored hooves.

Her voice barely above a whimper, Twilight tried to form words. “I… I’m…”

“Thy name, Child of Discord! Speak, ‘ere we pry it from thee by force.”

“Tw-Twilight! My name is Twilight Sparkle!” The tiny unicorn tried to shout but could barely squeak out the words for terror.

A royal nod of approval. “Very well. And what, prithee, is thy purpose here at the Great Tree?”

A fresh clutch of terror gripped Twilight’s heart. It was not the primal fear of destruction, but rather the fear of a guilty child, about to be punished by an adult.

“I… I was…” she stammered. “...studying, trying to learn…”

“Lie not, foal.” The Night-Mare’s eyes flashed, and the very ground shook under them. “Know that asking is but mere courtesy; tempt not the limits of our patience.”

Shrinking even further into herself, Twilight knew her next words might be her undoing. Her mind raced; the Night-Mare was waiting expectantly, and probably wouldn’t do so for very long.

A lie would only prolong the inevitable, perhaps excruciatingly so. As cowardly as it seemed, her allegiance to Discord was simply not worth the prospect of being tortured or having her mind invaded. Besides, as Applejack once said, “honesty is the best policy.” The words gave Twilight something approaching a semblance of hope that at least the Night-Mare might be merciful if she told the truth.

She got her hooves under her, tried to blink back the fresh tears of panic already spilling down her cheeks, and took a deep breath.

“I was sent… by Emperor Discord,” she said, voice shaking. “He instructed me to come here and plant Seeds of Discord around the Tree of Harmony, to… to destroy its power.”

The Night-Mare frowned. She looked past Twilight, then a magical glow flared around her horn.

Twilight winced, but she didn’t feel her throat being crushed, or her coat bursting into flame. After a moment, she saw the small burlap sack and the seeds float past her to hover between the two mares. 

The Night-Mare seemed to study the seeds and the bag. She turned them over and over, brow furrowing occasionally. Twilight noted the seeds' didn’t darken or cloud the Night-Mare’s telekinetic magic, as they had her own.

Finally, after several excruciating minutes, the seeds were roughly placed in their enchanted sack, and the drawstring pulled tight. The Night-Mare sighed to herself. “Foalish child...” She looked down at Twilight again, expression partially hidden by her war-helm, but her eyes seemed torn between rage and pity. “Wouldst thou destroy not only thyself but all of us?”

“W-what?” Twilight stammered, still a little amazed, but gaining a little confidence since she had not been summarily destroyed. “I don’t understand…”

“Forsooth, perhaps ‘tis well. Beyond the minds of most, these things are,” the Night-Mare said. “And now for thee, Twilight Sparkle.”

A chill of apprehension ran down Twilight’s spine. “What about me?”

“Thine allegiance to Discord hast been shown by words and actions.” The Night-Mare’s voice didn’t sound particularly merciful; rather, it was a tone of finality. “By admission, thou art complicit in conspiracy to destroy Harmony and the land of Equestria. Thy punishment shall be meted in accordance with thy crimes.”

“Wait, no!” Twilight gasped. This was all happening too fast for her to comprehend it fully, but she knew it wasn’t good. Was she about to be incinerated? Turned to stone? Banished to an unknown realm? “Please, I haven’t hurt anything! The Tree is fine! I’ll leave and never tell anyone about it!”

The Night-Mare was dispassionately silent. Twilight looked around in a panic. There were no side passages, no convenient hiding places. The alicorn stood between her and the only way to freedom, and Twilight could not possibly hope to dodge around. 

Adrenaline and panic rose up, blinding and choking. Logic and reason were useless, the option of flight had been removed from her. In a desperate bid for survival, her mind latched onto one last hope, even if it was madness.

Twilight was a cornered animal, and all she could think to do was fight. 

Rearing back on her hind legs, she summoned all her force of will and concentration. The magic welled in her, surging through her body and channelling down into her horn. She gritted her teeth, stomped back down on the cave floor, and let fly with the most powerful beam of pure chaotic energy she could generate.

A brilliant plaid and technicolor flash filled the room, accompanied by a loud SNAP as the beam split the air, randomizing the very molecules in its path.

All her energy spent, eyes squeezed shut against the pounding throb in her forehead, Twilight stood panting for a moment. Either it worked or it hadn’t, but she hardly dared to look...

After a moment Twilight opened her eyes. The Night-Mare was standing, intact and unchanged, except for a tiny polka-dotted lizard crawling across her muzzle. She laughed dryly. 

“A worthy attempt, little unicorn. We are impressed,” she brushed the lizard away with her hoof, “but it shall not save thee from our judgement.”

“How ‘bout this, then!”

The Night-Mare’s head jerked as a third voice joined the conversation, then she grunted as something landed on her back. An orange blur bounded high, arced downward, and a familiar earth pony landed squarely in front of Twilight.

“...A-applejack?” she sputtered, “what are you -”

Without responding, Applejack lowered her head and raised her haunches. Twilight felt a shockwave of earth magic, strong enough to blow dirt from around Applejack’s front hooves, as her powerful rear legs simultaneously bucked high, directly into the Night-Mare’s chin. 

The blow landed with a sickening thud, and the alicorn stumbled back with a sharp cry. The bag of seeds fell to the ground as the levitation spell faltered, and there was a sudden shift, a vacuum in the ambient magic, as if air had been rapidly let out of a balloon.

Twilight stood, jaw agape, until Applejack’s voice roused her. 

“C’mon Twilight, let’s GO!”

Shaking off her stupor, Twilight snatched up the bag of seeds in her magic, and followed Applejack past the stunned Night-Mare into the cave tunnels. The pair galloped as fast as their hooves would carry them, but it was only a few moments before they heard an angry cry and the thunder of hooves. The tunnel was too small to fly in, but the Night-Mare’s strides were long.

Twilight’s lungs were already burning, and she cursed herself yet again for not taking the time to exercise as often as she should. There was no escape, they would just die tired. The monster would catch them, and-

“In here!” Applejack cried out, skidding to her left and jumping through a hole in the cave wall.

Twilight didn’t think, she just turned and barreled full-tilt into the hole behind Applejack. They collided with a thud, and she nearly yelped in surprise, but a quick foreleg against her muzzle cut the sound short in her throat. 

Barely a moment later, there was a thunderous blur past the little hole. Twilight’s heart stopped as she imagined the Night-Mare realizing she’d been duped and stopping to search the side passages, but the pounding hooves receded into the distant tunnels.

After a few minutes when the Night-Mare did not return, both ponies breathed sighs of relief. Twilight’s heart finally started beating again as she caught her breath. “Applejack, you… you saved me!”

“Don’t go thankin’ me,” Applejack said curtly. “We still ain’t outta these woods. Now keep quiet, give us some light, and follow me.”

Tucking the recovered seeds into her saddlebags, Twilight obliged gratefully with a light spell as Applejack led them deeper into the side passage away from the main tunnels. For a while, she followed quietly, but after several twists and turns with no discernible pattern, she began to get a little worried.

“Applejack,” she whispered. “Where are we going?”

“Gettin’ out,” Applejack responded. “These here caves have entrances all over the place, not just at the castle. Course you gotta know ‘em or you’ll get lost forever. I searched for gems in here with Rarity, so I kinda remember the general way ‘round.”

“That makes sense,” Twilight said, keeping her light spell focused ahead to illuminate the tunnel. “By the way, how did you know I was down here?”

“I followed you,” Applejack said simply. Suddenly, she stopped and turned back to face Twilight. “What I’m more curious about is why you’re down here.”

Twilight’s ears flattened back. “How much did you hear?” she asked hesitantly.

“I heard enough. What I want now is to hear it from you.”

There was a long moment of silence as Twilight’s brain worked. She’d pretty much summed up  everything to the Night-Mare, but she couldn’t be sure how much of that Applejack had actually heard. She might have been right there the entire time, or she might have gotten there at the last possible moment. “Well, what do you want to know?” she hedged.

“I just want the truth, Twilight. Right now, all of us ‘cept Rainbow and Pinkie know you’re in town. We just don’t know why.”

The words were sincere enough, although there was a definite edge on them. Still, Twilight was worried about Applejack’s reaction to “the truth.” She might accept it gracefully, or the hot-tempered earth pony might make a certain purple unicorn the next target of her powerful, steel-shod hooves.

After a moment, she sighed in resignation. No sense hiding it anymore. “I came here on Emperor Discord’s orders. He wanted me to destroy the Tree of Harmony in the cavern back there.”

“Why would he want that?”

“Because friendship is created and driven from the magic of Harmony,” Twilight explained, “and both are a threat. They need to be purged to avoid corrupting Discordia.”

Applejack visibly bristled. “Just like in your letters, huh? ‘Cease and desist the practice of friendship,’ I think you said.”

“Exactly!” Twilight exclaimed fervently. It was a long shot, but she might have a chance to finally  convince somepony that what she was doing was right. “Don’t you see? It’s the Tree, it always has been. It’s been poisoning your mind with the lies of Harmony, and blinding you to the wonders of Chaos.”

Twilight could see Applejack’s jaw tightening, but she pressed on. “In reality, it’s all a lie. Friendships are temporary and always end in pain. Harmony will eventually decay into Chaos anyway, unless it’s subjected to harsh control. A thousand years ago, ponies rejected the dictatorship of the Sky Mares to be free of that control.

“And now today, we have such wonderful opportunities! Every day, every moment is new; pain and happiness are known in full measure so we can better appreciate both; nopony can maintain rule over another or raise themselves above; all are equal in anarchy, none are exalted.

“But the Tree of Harmony has been corrupting that. It’s been spreading the lies of friendship, and all of us have been caught in it. That’s why it needs to be destroyed, so it can no longer deceive us.”

As Twilight paused to catch her breath, she briefly considered that her zeal might have overstepped the bounds of good judgment; Applejack’s face was locked in an expression of tranquil fury. 

“That there’s a mighty interestin’ perspective, Twilight,” Applejack said slowly, “considerin’ you seemed pretty warm to the idea of friendship for a while.”

“But it wasn’t real,” Twilight continued, despite reservations. “It was the Tree of Harmony, trying to convince us that friendship and order is better than Chaos. If you could just open your mind and understand...”

“Understand?!” Applejack’s voice brimmed with barely contained anger. “What I understand is that Chaos does nothin’ ‘cept make my life miserable!”

Twilight recoiled. “But-”

“Do you realize I have to practically live and work every day in the Everfree Forest to keep my farm runnin’? We provide most of the food for Ponyville, and we have to keep our output high to beat the chance of somepony’s apples goin’ random-like! That’s not even mentioning the weather, or the timberwolves an’ such. Other places don’t have it nearly as good; over in Westfoal they’re practically starvin’ to death, every day! We try to send them extra, but it don’t always make the journey.

“You ever wonder why Ponyville has more standin’ buildings an’ industry than just about anywhere else? It’s ‘cause we got organized and decided we were tired of livin’ in holes in the ground, eatin’ whatever happens to show up. We’ve gots ponies who work round-the-clock keepin’ stuff repaired, and everypony has plans and replacements for everythin’. We gotta work ourselves to the bone just to keep ahead of Chaos.

“An’ the only thing that’s ever made it worthwhile was having ponies who were grateful and helpful back. Even before Zecora showed up and taught us ‘bout friendship, we at least had that. Now, not everypony’s quite kind to the ideas of friendship, so it’s been slow to spread, but those five mares have made my life more bearable than any of your platitudes ‘bout livin’ in the moment.”

Applejack stepped closer to the stunned Twilight Sparkle, until their snouts were nearly touching. 

“Now, I don’t know for sure what’s goin’ on in this here castle, but somethin’ woke up that Night-Mare. An’ you know what? I’m glad she’s awake. I hope she flies right down to Discord’s castle, and turns him into stone!”

Suddenly looking tired, Applejack stepped away and sat on her haunches. “But I wouldn’t ‘spect you to understand any of that, bein’ the ‘Emperor’s Personal Student’ an’ all.”

There was a long stretch of silence while Twilight tried to find the words to respond. Applejack made valid points, most of which Twilight already knew about, but they were understood consequences of Chaos. Ponies lived, ponies died, buildings rose and fell, possessions were gained and lost. It was that simple. Whether random happenstance or otherwise, it was simply a fact of life regardless of the why.

She was also very tired herself, not only physically but mentally. The last couple days had been extremely stressful, and she didn’t have the willpower or desire to point out the obvious flaws in Applejack’s worldview. Instead, she settled on asking a simple question that had started bothering her several minutes ago.

“Applejack…” she said slowly. “If you really feel that way, then why did you save me? Surely it would have been easier to just let the Night-Mare...” She trailed off, unsure herself of her intended fate.

Applejack’s shoulders slumped and she was quiet for a moment before responding. “I really don’t know. I s’pose if anythin’, it’s ‘cause I couldn’t live with myself otherwise. You were my friend once, and Rainbow Dash taught me to never leave a friend behind.”

There was a subtle pulse of magic in the air, and Twilight’s heart leapt into her throat. 

Applejack blinked in surprise and shook one of her hooves. “You felt that, right?”

Twilight nodded. “It’s the Tree of Harmony,” she said. “I think it grows when there’s an expression of friendship nearby.”

“Ain’t that ironic.” Applejack chuckled to herself and stood back up. “Well, we better get movin’ if we wanna get out of these caves anytime soon.”

The two ponies continued on, and Twilight was left alone with her thoughts for a moment. She understood what Applejack was saying; a life of chaos was difficult. It was full of ups and downs, with no way to tell what would happen next. But didn’t that make living it more rewarding?

Now, watching the mare walking in front of her, Twilight wasn’t so sure anymore. She seemed driven by something besides just living moment-to-moment, and it was difficult to pin down exactly what.

“Applejack, can I ask you another question?”

“Sure thing.” Applejack didn’t turn around to reply.

“You said only the gratitude of other ponies makes all your work worthwhile, but there seems to be more to it than that. What drives you to work so hard when everything is so transient?”

A quiet scoff. “Why you wanna know, Twilight? Feelin’ the magic of friendship again?”

“No,” Twilight answered, trying to be sincere. “I’m really curious, because it just doesn’t make sense to me. You spend almost all your time building up things that could break down or disappear at any moment. Why not just let it go and savor the moments Chaos brings, good or bad?”

Applejack’s pace slowed, and there was a moment of silence. Finally she stopped and looked back. “I suppose… I want it all to mean somethin’, y’know?”

Twilight shook her head. Applejack rolled her eyes and began walking again as she spoke.

“My feelin’s are that a pony needs purpose. Not like a purpose, like a job or a cutie mark or somethin’. I’m talkin’ ‘bout the thing that drives a pony. My talent is growin’ apples, but that’s not a purpose, it’s just what I’m good at.

“I don’t wake up every day, and I think ‘gee, I sure wanna work the farm today!’ Shoot, sometimes that’s the last thing on my mind. It’s hard work, it hurts, and takes forever when we can’t get some hired ponies from town to help us.

“When I wake up, I think about what I can accomplish that day. If it’s haulin’ a dozen extra bushels to Westfoal, or just givin’ one apple and two bits worth of honest advice to somepony, then I can sleep easy knowin’ at least I did somethin’, ‘stead of just lettin’ it happen.”

Applejack stopped and turned to face Twilight. 

“What I’m tryin’ to say is, life ain’t just about experiences. Sure, you can just let Chaos happen to you, an’ some of it might be enjoyable, but even the nicest things ain’t satisfyin’ if’n you don’t work for ‘em.”

After pondering for a moment, Twilight nodded. “I suppose I can see how you feel that way, then.”

Applejack opened her mouth to respond, then paused. She sniffed. “Hey, you smell that?”

A quick inhale revealed that something was now different in the air, but Twilight couldn’t put a hoof on the scent. “What is it?”

“Fresh air,” Applejack said. “Just a whiff. It’s comin’ from that side tunnel up ahead, means we’re almost out.”

“Thank Discord,” Twilight grumbled, “my horn is starting to hurt.”

“Well, we ain’t home free just yet,” Applejack reminded her. “We still gotta get through the forest, an’ like a filly I left my lantern harness at the stairs ‘cause it was too unbalanced.”

They kept following the tunnel, and it wasn’t long before something else besides the fresh air became apparent. Twilight first noticed it when the walls ahead of them began becoming visible before her light spell reached them. “Applejack, is that…?”

“Yup. Either we’re both seein’ things, or that’s daylight up ahead.”

It was very quickly becoming easy to see, and Twilight ceased the magical illumination. She pondered to herself what could possibly be going on. The sun hadn’t been out in over a day. Had something changed? Or was it some sort of artificial light or spell shining into the tunnel?

For better or worse, she was about to find out. After only a few more paces, they turned a corner and suddenly found themselves at the exit of the tunnel system. Eyes suddenly watering, Twilight blinked against the painful brightness.

It wasn’t a fluke or a fake; a quick glance revealed that the sun was indeed high in the sky, directly overhead. Her eyes adjusted quickly, although her tear ducts continued to gush annoyingly against the light. The sun wasn’t only up, it seemed exceptionally bright, nearly white instead of the familiar yellow hue it usually wore. 

Twilight could see they had exited the cave system in a small, shallow canyon she hadn’t been in before. The spires of the old castle were visible behind them, over the steep canyon wall. It looked much closer than she would have estimated, considering how far it seemed they’d walked. 

Applejack was looking around in confusion. “Well, I guess we weren’t seein’ things. Why do you reckon the sun’s finally out?”

“I don’t know.” Twilight shook her head. “It could have all simply been a random chance of Chaos, but that doesn’t seem right… I think... perhaps the Night-Mare was controlling the sky, keeping it dark. When you bucked her, it probably broke her concentration and ruined the spell. The only other possibility…” She trailed off, not wanting to speak too soon. 

The other possibility was one she didn’t even want to consider. It was improbable, a wild guess, but not without precedent. It was also even more frightening than everything they’d experienced thus far.

“What’s the other possibility?” Applejack’s voice was apprehensive.

“The only other thing I can think of… is that the Day-Mare is awake and has taken control of the sky.”

Applejack gulped. Both ponies glanced around in fear, as if their words would summon the terrifying alicorn princesses to swoop in and destroy them.

“So what do we do now?”

“We could try and see inside the castle, maybe confirm if the Day-Mare’s awake, but I don’t know what good that would do and we might get caught.” Twilight rubbed her aching eyes. “But, we should get our rumps back to Ponyville; I have to send a letter to the Emperor and warn him.”

“Send a letter? Why in tarnation should I let you do that?” Applejack’s voice suddenly took on a very serious tone.

Twilight looked up in surprise and saw Applejack staring at her with a dangerous look. “B-because,” she stammered, realizing she had made another error. “Nopony knows what the Sky-Mares are capable of; he’s the only one strong enough to stand against them. They could be plotting now to take over!”

Moving slightly to block the way out of the canyon, Applejack kept her eyes locked on Twilight. “An’ that’s a bad thing?”

“Yes!” Twilight exclaimed, starting to feel the nervous pit in her stomach returning. “They might overthrow Discord and destroy the magic of Chaos; they could enslave the entire land under their dictatorship for a thousand generations!”

“I dunno,” Applejack said, as she settled into a defensive posture. “I might be scared of ‘em, but anythin’ sounds pretty darn appealin’ to me after a lifetime under the claws of our glorious Emperor.”

Twilight’s breath was beginning to come in short gasps as she considered the possibility that it might take more than words to convince Applejack. Although she knew some magic that could be used offensively or defensively, violence was not her forte by any means. 

A quick probe revealed they were outside the primary sphere of influence from the Tree of Harmony, and the control magic from earlier was nowhere to be felt. At very least, her chaos magic might work mostly as expected this time, but the whole magical atmosphere felt drained, and she’d drawn a lot of her own trying to cast that useless spell against the Night-Mare. Without much ambient magic she might not have enough herself to use in combat. 

“Applejack,” she said, beginning to circle around and get an angle on the canyon entrance. “You need to let me send word to Discord. This is bigger than our petty desires; we’re talking about a war between gods here.”

“Is that s’pposed to scare me, Twilight?” Applejack moved to block her path. “Shoot, at this point I’m practically cheerin’ in the stands.”

“And what about our world?” Twilight replied, circling the other direction. “You’ve heard the legends just like I have; mountains leveled, lakes sucked dry, forests incinerated, entire towns blinked out of existence, untold thousands of miles devastated by the clash between Discord and the Sky-Mares.”

Applejack blocked again, and Twilight furrowed her brow. “Do you really want that? Do you want your fellow ponies, your friends, your family caught in that crossfire?”

She saw Applejack’s resolve falter, just momentarily, then recover. 

“Well, I don’t reckon how your plan’s any better, Twilight. Seems to me, neither of us can stop them, so what’s the difference?”

“If I can warn Discord,” Twilight said, trying to keep her breathing under control, “he can catch the Sky-Mares by surprise. They might not be fully recovered from being imprisoned in stone. He might be able to stop the battle before it begins, but If we give them time to rally and plan, then there won’t be any stopping them, and thousands will die before it’s done.”

The words were having an effect. Applejack was bull-headed and hot-tempered, but she was also soft. Friendship had made her soft. She couldn’t stomach the thought of thousands losing their lives as mere collateral damage in a bloody, violent coup. The earth pony broke eye contact and bit her lip with indecision.

Twilight wasn’t actually thinking about the lives at stake; Chaos, with the help of Harmony’s betrayal, had finally made her hard, and her pleas were really just a smokescreen. Applejack was right, there really was no way to stop it; the terrible battle would happen, one way or another. Whether at the Capitol, here at the old castle, or somewhere in between, it was going to happen. 

She didn’t relish the thought of so much death; it just wasn’t something she could worry about at the moment. There were bigger concerns. The only thing that mattered was getting the warning to Discord. If the battle was inevitable, at least the Emperor could have it on his own terms. He might catch the Sky-Mares unaware or unprepared, and the tide would shift. Ponyville would likely be obliterated, maybe the entire Everfree Forest, but it was a small price to pay to prevent the return of Harmony. 

“Just let me go, Applejack,” Twilight pleaded, taking another few steps forward. “Let me try to stop this before it even starts. It’s the only way.”

Applejack’s face revealed her battling emotions as Twilight drew closer. She was conflicted, torn between her ideals for a land free from Chaos, and the holocaust that would accompany such an upheaval.

Twilight pressed the advantage. She didn’t trust her magic just yet, so she needed another plan. A few steps forward… Applejack was so close to giving in, and if she didn’t…  “Please Applejack, help me save our empire.”

Suddenly, Applejack’s face set. A switch clicked inside her brain, and she looked up to face Twilight again. “No. It ain’t our empire. Not anymore. It’s yours, and I’ll be bucked if’n I’m gonna-”

It was too late. Twilight made her move. Applejack yelled as a plume of dirt hit her in the face, and Twilight charged toward the gap at the end of the canyon. She only needed a few-

The shoulder-check hit like a cart full of bricks, and Twilight felt something crack. The impact flung her two lengths sideways into the rocks of the canyon wall. Her ribs made a crunching noise against the rock, and she slumped into the dirt.

She gasped for air, breath knocked out of her by the force of the blow. Sweet air filled her lungs... and then she screamed as a shooting pain tore through her side. She didn't know exactly what was broken, it hurt infinitely worse than she could have imagined. 

Vision blurry with pain, Twilight looked up just in time to see an orange blur leaping toward her.

The first hoof landed on her shoulder. It was a blind, sloppy hit, but the hoof stayed there and held her down. 

A second steel horseshoe slammed into her cheek like a sledgehammer and snapped her head into the canyon wall. Twilight’s vision went swimmy and dim as her brain seemed to disconnect from reality. 

This is how I’m going to die, she thought dispassionately as a third blow struck her, making the world shake. Applejack’s going to beat me to death in this little canyon, Discord will never get my warning letter, and the Sky-Mares will win.

Oddly, the thought didn’t concern her anymore. She was past concern now. The pain had faded to a dull roar. Another blow landed somewhere in the distance, but it barely registered. All she felt was a vague kind of coldness seeping in from her extremities, as her vision fell from dim, to black.





“What the hay?”

Stumbling backward onto her haunches, Applejack blinked to try and clear her scratchy, watering eyes. Her brain was foggy; the last thing she remembered was dirt hitting her face, but everything else was a blur. 

She shook her head, wiped the muddy tears off her eyelashes. The adrenaline-induced rage was fading now, her senses returning. Her ears stopped ringing, and her vision finally cleared enough to see ahead.

Twilight Sparkle was lying slumped against the canyon wall, motionless. A bruise on her side was spreading under her coat. There were shallow gashes on her face; some were very small, old and re-opened, but others were fresh, large and ugly. A small dark pool was seeping into the dirt around her mouth.

Applejack stared, jaw agape. Her clouded brain tried to make sense of it as the memories filtered in. Her eyes were blinded with dirt, but she'd heard a pony beginning to gallop past. Without thinking, she'd called on the earth magic she knew so well, and hurled herself toward the sound of hooves with all the strength she could muster. And then-

She looked down; her fetlocks, forehooves, and steel shoes were stained dark red.

“No…” She began hyperventilating. How many punches had she thrown? Four, five, maybe more? She couldn’t remember.

A sudden wave of nausea swept over her, and she fought the urge to vomit; it wouldn’t help to give in to hysterics now. “Keep it together, AJ,” she said to herself. Swallowing the nausea, she stood up and slowly walked over to the still body.

“Twilight?” she said hesitantly, then nudged gently with her hoof. “Twilight, wake up…”

No response. Twilight’s head flopped limply to one side with the nudging, and Applejack jumped back. Was that normal? It looked too loose, but Applejack couldn’t tell for sure. She was a farm pony, not a doctor; her medical knowledge was limited at best.

“Oh no…” The panic was creeping in again, and Applejack was starting to crack. What had she done? What should she do now? Was she a murderer? What would her friends think? Her family?

The thoughts came unbidden. One after another, swirling like angry bees. There were no answers, no respite, no justification. She was scared and confused, a filly in the woods with a hurt playmate, and with no other options, she did what any filly would.

She began to scream for help.

> Chapter 7
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Far above the Everfree Forest, a blue pegasus strained her wings against the fatigue in her muscles. It wasn't that she was out of shape, even though she lazed about most days and couldn’t follow a diet to save her life; she was actually a finely-tuned machine, top of her class, best flyer in all Discordia, but she’d been flying non-stop for hours now with no rest or proper food, and it was starting to wear on her.

Rainbow Dash mentally kicked herself yet again for getting so far away from home. It wasn’t that she disliked Ponyville; in fact she’d loved it since they’d taken her in as a filly, after Cloudsdale’s citizens turned to rioting and feuding for the hundredth time. At least in Ponyville they were somewhat organized, there was food on a consistent basis, and the proximity of the Everfree’s magic made living with Chaos easier. Not to mention Applejack’s amazing apple cider. 

Rainbow had tried to just let it go, really. But after what happened with Twilight Sparkle, even the skies above town felt too restrictive. She needed a change of scenery, and so one day she just up and left. She wasn’t even sure why it bothered her so much in the first place, but Rainbow had actively shunned introspection on the unpleasant topic for her entire self-indulgent sabbatical. Whatever it was, she didn’t really want to think about it; better just to get over it and forget.

Her little vacation had been fun for sure. Fresh canyons to weave down, unsuspecting new ponies to divebomb, barnstorming, zipping low over unfamiliar fields, looping and twirling, soaring so high she could hardly breathe, all in skies where she could no longer see even a tiny speck of familiar buildings or roads. It was incredibly freeing.

The darkness freaked her out, though.

It had happened sometime yesterday, as best she could tell. The sun had been drifting lazily about, then suddenly was pulled below the horizon. The moon and stars had soon followed suit, and she’d been left flying in pitch blackness, with no landmarks except the lights of unfamiliar towns. 

It was really frightening, actually. She’d spent hours flying in circles, trying to find something familiar in the lights, while staying high enough to avoid any cliffs or mountains that might be in her path. More than once she’d gotten lost in the cloud cover and had to start from scratch. It made her regret never learning how to follow her inner compass; the magical and magnetic fields in the area were as variable as anything due to Chaos, but at least they generally aligned the same way on average. A trained pegasus could tap into that and develop a fairly accurate sense of direction over time, if they worked at it.

Then without warning, the sun had reappeared less than an hour ago, shooting up from the horizon directly into the center of the sky. With the light she was able to determine she was above the Everfree Forest, and that was enough to give her a general bearing toward Ponyville. 

Being away on a carefree adventure had been fun, but now she was tired, hungry, and just wanted to get home, so when an old spire appeared on the distant horizon, Rainbow Dash smiled. Her eagle-like eyesight was probably the best in Ponyville, Zecora’s excepted, and she could recognize the old castle at any distance. She was on the right track; maybe if she flew a little higher she’d be able to see…

Something caught her eye at the old castle again, and she glanced back down.

A tiny white dot was flitting around the castle, dipping low and then circling high again, still below the tops of the spires. She was too high to tell exactly what, but it seemed too big to be a pony…  Maybe a stray cloud misbehaving? No, clouds didn’t have wings…

She suddenly gasped as the object came into better focus. It was a pony. A huge, gleaming white pegasus, with wings that had to be bigger than Rainbow Dash herself. Even at a distance, the light gleaming off the brilliant coat and feathers was almost like a miniature sun. 

Rainbow slowed and hovered high above the castle, squinting to try and resolve more details. At this altitude, it was almost like watching a sparrow flit around a tree from across town, but as best she could tell, the massive pegasus seemed to be searching for something near one side of the castle, in a jumble of small ravines and dense trees.

The other pony’s search circle was shrinking, re-centering. It seemed to be focusing on a particular spot where a few canyons intersected. Finally it flared, backtracked, and swooped into one of the narrow ravines. Wings folded, it was now barely distinguishable, even to Rainbow’s exceptional eyes.

Curiosity finally won out over better judgement, and she decided she had to know what exactly was happening down at the old castle. She tucked her wings, rolled into a lazy inverted dive, and relished the feeling of wind whipping past her face. Within seconds the drug-like rush of adrenaline flooded her body; no matter how many times she repeated that move, it never got old. 

Rainbow grinned as euphoria overrode any desire for subtlety or caution. Who knew? Maybe she’d even challenge the huge pegasus to a competition; after all, those incredible wings had to be good for something. 





Applejack had stopped shouting for help a few minutes ago. The initial panic was fading, but her body was still trembling. She sat across the canyon from Twilight’s body, which still hadn’t moved an inch.

At very least she’d confirmed the unconscious mare was still breathing, but Applejack knew how powerful her hooves were, and she shuddered to think what damage might have been done in her blind rage. Twilight might have a broken neck, cracked ribs, perhaps even brain damage. 

As more minutes passed, the situation would only get worse. Nopony except Zecora knew they were out here. Nopony would be coming to get them or check on them until they were gone for a day or two. Would Twilight live that long? Would she ever wake up even if they got help?

One option included carrying Twilight out, but Applejack at least knew that she shouldn’t move a pony that might have broken bones. A neck injury could prove fatal without stabilizing magic; a snapped rib might puncture a lung. Her other option was to leave and try to get help, but she might not be able to find her way back to this canyon again, and without protection, Twilight’s body could fall victim to scavenging vultures or other predators. 

She was re-evaluating her options again when a shadow passed overhead. Applejack started and glanced up to the sky; although the sun was blinding, she caught a glimpse of something white, and what looked like wings.

“Hello?!” she shouted. “Somepony, help me!”

Hope and apprehension spread in her chest. Another pony meant the possibility of help, however it also meant questions about Twilight’s beaten state, which Applejack knew she would have to answer. The thought twisted her gut, but it was too late to recall the shout now.

It didn’t take long. There was a rush of air, and the white wings re-appeared over the edge of the canyon. The sun bounced off the bright feathers, and Applejack’s eyes reflexively squeezed shut against the glow. A blast of wind and dirt hit her in the face, and she felt more than heard the thump of heavy hooves hitting dirt. Very heavy hooves.

Suddenly dreading what she was about to see, Applejack opened her eyes… and gasped in awe. 

The pony standing in the canyon was almost twice Applejack’s height. She was an alicorn, long polished horn luminescent with internal magic, massive wings arched high and filling the narrow canyon from wall-to-wall. Her coat and feathers were brilliant white, and a cutie mark representing a stylized golden sun adorned her hip. She was clad in elaborate golden war-armor to match the mark, and her unearthly mane flowed with gorgeous pinks, greens, and blues. Peering out beneath the brow of the war helm, the mare’s eyes seemed kindly and wise, but burned with an inner fire that her mild purple irises could not hide. 

There was a brief silence before the Day-Mare spoke, her voice like pealing bells and rolling thunder.

“Laétel equés, haíeran we thyn céallian. Hélpan thu hu cúnnan we?”

Applejack knew a little of what to expect, having heard the Night-Mare speak already, but she still cowered before the voice and flattened her ears against the volume. It wasn’t a shout; in fact the voice was gentle and smooth. It was just so incredibly powerful.

“Uh, listen,” she stammered, avoiding eye contact. “I can’t understand what you’re sayin’ but my… friend… is hurt.” Applejack gestured to Twilight’s motionless body. “Can you help us?”

The Day-Mare turned and furrowed her brow. “Hábban beon thes?” The words themselves were foreign, but the meaning seemed clear.

“I know, it looks bad,” Applejack said, biting her lip and sidestepping nervously. “I… I didn’t mean to…”

“Aélwund heo béon, carú aelswifán neodián heo.” the Day-Mare said, striding over to Twilight and kneeling down. She examined the visible injuries. “Cúnnan we hélpan, búta heo bríngan we mosté áweg her.”

“Say what now?”

The Day-Mare stood back to her full height again and turned to Applejack. “Stryngháldan bríngan heo wýlla we,” she said, horn began glowing with unicorn magic. “Álswa cúman thyn.” She seemed willing to help at least, but whatever the decision, her tone indicated that it was final and not to be argued with.

A subtle shift in the air revealed the beginnings of a spell. Applejack’s hooves and leg muscles started getting pins and needles as if they’d fallen asleep, and an ambient golden-yellow glow began to envelop the three ponies.

Suddenly, she felt another rush of air and something else struck the ground nearby. Applejack nearly jumped with surprise when she saw who it was. “Rainbow Dash? What’n tarnation you doin’ here!?”

Rainbow didn’t answer. Her jaw gaped open as she stared at the huge alicorn. For once she seemed to be stricken speechless.

The Day-Mare glanced briefly at the interloper, then refocused back on her spell. A moment later, a flash of bright yellow-white appeared, shrank to a small sphere, then sparked out of existence with a soft pop, taking the three ponies with it.





Left suddenly alone in the quiet canyon, Rainbow Dash’s brain raced. Her talents for rapid observation ensured no detail had gone unnoticed; she was able to recall everything down to the number of armor pieces the alicorn was wearing, but memory wasn’t the problem.

The particulars of the scene were throwing her off. Twilight Sparkle had been lying asleep or unconscious by the rock wall. Why was she unconscious? What was she doing back in town? Why was Applejack there? And what about the alicorn? As far as she knew, no alicorns existed except in legends.

And more importantly, where had they gone? Was it some kind of freaky teleportation spell or something? She knew unicorns could do those with some practice. Maybe they were still close?

“Applejack?” she called out tentatively. “Twilight? Where’d you go?” 

Nopony answered. Rainbow’s wings fluttered as a chill of apprehension went down her spine, but she ignored it and glanced around the canyon for some kind of hint as to what might have happened.

Immediately, a dark spot where Twilight had been lying caught her eye. It was a pool of liquid slowly seeping into the dirt. Moving closer, she could see several smaller spots of the same, peppering the dirt and rocks. There was a small smear on the canyon wall, and a few clumps of purple hair stuck into it. She touched the pool with one hoof; the liquid was partially dry and sticky, and stained her hoof a dark brownish red.

Her stomach turned and she swallowed hard. 

None of this seemed good, but at the same time it didn’t make sense either; it could be there just wasn’t enough information, although a tiny tickle in the back of her mind told her she was ignoring something, leaving out a detail that would help make sense of things. Unfortunately, she couldn’t put a hoof on it.

Instead, she spread her wings and took to the sky. Maybe if the other ponies were still in the area, she’d be able to see them. At very least, having her hooves off the ground might help her think.

She made a few passes over the small canyons and old, dry riverbeds. Her presence startled a few woodland creatures, but nothing else appeared. Of course, she could fly over these all day and still not see every angle; the trees were thick, and the canyons were long and winding. 

With a growl of frustration, she banked away from the canyon areas and began circling the castle. As near as she could guess, it had to have been a teleportation spell, so she scoured the landscape for a possible destination, even though she had almost no idea what one might look like. Maybe somewhere open, with fewer trees…

After several more minutes with not even a glimpse of anything orange, purple, or white, Rainbow began to wonder if her search was in vain. She didn’t have any clue about how far a teleportation spell could go, or what kind of places it could reach. For all she knew, Applejack and the others might be far underground in a hidden cave. 

The last place to check was the castle itself. She curved into a slow, tight circle, scanning the ruins for any sign of life. One pass confirmed the outer courtyards were empty; a second pass for the windows turned up nothing, although there were too many to check completely and some were obscured with old stained and clouded glass.

She began a third pass higher over the top of the castle, between spires. Much as she hated to admit it, this might have to be the last one; with no other clues to go on and no more places to check, she was out of ideas and the hunger in her stomach was beginning to transition from annoying to debilitating.

As she passed over the top of the castle, she caught sight of the inner courtyard. Her mind wandered briefly to the memory of showing her friends the statues of the Sky-Mares. She’d nearly burst into laughter at how terrified Fluttershy seemed in the “spooky old castle”. Or the way Rarity-

Rainbow’s heart fluttered as she passed directly over the courtyard. It was exactly the way she remembered it, except for one major detail.

The statues were gone. 

She looped back to check again, and felt her chest tighten. It wasn’t a trick of the light or a bad angle. The pedestals were still there, but they were empty. 

The apprehension made her briefly question if staying was a good idea, but a sense of duty overrode it. Something weird was going on, Applejack was smack-dab in the middle of it, and probably needed help. 

After a final pass to make sure the rest of the courtyard was deserted, she flared her wings and gently descended into the opening. 

The grass of the courtyard was long, dry and scratchy on her legs. Besides the missing statues, everything seemed more or less how she remembered. She walked over to one of the pedestals and began circling around, looking for a hint as to what happened. The pedestal itself was old, and appeared untouched, undamaged.

Around one side of the pedestal, Rainbow noticed a depression in the grass where the blades were crushed and bent. She looked back and noted she’d left a similar trail, but this one wasn’t hers; she hadn’t walked this way yet. 

Whatever had made this was bigger than her, by a lot. She could see the path led to the pedestal from one of the castle hallways. In the dirt there were prints, and stepping closer she could see the impressions were rounded, no claws. Not what she would expect from a timberwolf, cragidile, manticore, baby hydra, or anything else. 

They were hoofprints. Huge hoofprints, leading away from the pedestal, not toward it. 

Rainbow gasped. She glanced around rapidly, checking every corner and entrance until she was sure she was the only one in the courtyard. 

She knew the legends of Discord turning the Sky-Mares to stone. That’s all they’d been to her, just legends, cool stories to regale fillies with. It was crazy to believe that the statues had suddenly come to life, but now there was a legit alicorn roaming around, and a missing alicorn statue to match. Two, for that matter.

Breathing deep against the tightness in her chest, she stood quietly for several minutes. the only sounds were a gentle breeze and rustling grass, but she strained her ears for any hint she’d been found out. 

After what seemed like an eternity a sound finally caught her ears; a distant echo of raised voices, somewhere inside the castle. They weren’t close, and didn’t seem to be approaching.

Trying to calm her racing heart and fluttering wings, Rainbow carefully stepped through the grass. The voices seemed to be coming from the direction the large hoofprints pointed, through a high archway at one end of the elongated courtyard.

She carefully followed the unfamiliar maze of hallways, stopping at each intersection to listen again; the echos off the stone walls allowed sounds to carry while also making it difficult to pinpoint locations, but through trial and error she was able to gradually get closer to the source of the voices.

Her pounding heartbeat and shallow, shaky breathing were almost embarrassing. In front of other ponies, she could usually put off a solid show of bravado. But here alone with her thoughts, and a possible god-pony or two of ancient legend on the loose, Rainbow’s normally hidden fears were creeping through her brash daredevil shell. 

“C’mon Dash,” she whispered, trying to psych herself up. “You got this.”

The voices were very close now, probably only a single hall away. They seemed to be arguing, not shouting, but she still couldn’t make out any words; more than anything, it sounded like gibberish.

She turned around a corner and bit her tongue to avoid a gasp of surprise; the next hallway was short, but flared out and opened into a large chamber lined with tall stained glass windows. Indirect sunlight filtered through, casting soft colors on the floor and walls. Directly opposite the hallway opening, there were two thrones, backed by tapestries of the sun and moon. A huge, chandelier hung slightly ahead of the thrones, old candles set among an elaborate arrangement of yellow and blue gemstones. Intricate paintings adorned the walls and ceiling, depicting great battles and worshiping subjects around two crowned alicorns.

Every inch was covered with dirt and decay; tapestries rotted, paint peeling, windows grimy with age, but the aging throne room was still incredibly impressive. She could only guess how awe-inspiring this room would have been in its prime. 

What caught her attention next were the four ponies in the throne room. Applejack was in the middle of the floor, pacing nervously. Twilight was nearby, still lying in the same position she’d been in at the canyon. Closer to the thrones at the back of the room, the Day-Mare and Night-Mare stood in all their regal glory, seemingly arguing in some foreign language.

Abruptly, the Day-Mare stomped her hoof, sending a shock through the solid stone floor. Her eyes ignited, glowing nearly pure white. “Efnénu! Misawég wioután néoddeman, the wýlla Ic onthólian fórdeman hie! Eldróst éom Ic, hédan min raéd!”

The voice was incredible in volume and power, nearly making Rainbow cover her ears in pain. The Night-Mare shrank back and averted her gaze. “Gise, sweóstor,” she replied in a more restrained tone. “Ic wýlla gieldán thin demán fornu.”

“Welhad.” The Day-Mare’s eyes and speaking voice returned to normal. “Nu, the éorthewealcend unféaldan, hélpan hire fréond wýlla we.”

Apparently humbled, the Night-Mare squared her shoulders and stepped toward the center of the room. Applejack tensed and shifted nervously, while Rainbow kept watching from the dark hall, trying to keep her wings from twitching. 

“Good tidings, little one,” the Night-Mare announced, her voice shaking the room like the Day-Mare’s had. “Notwithstanding thy crimes, our mercy shall be granted unto thee and thy injured friend.”

“Oh! Uh…” Applejack wavered for a moment, then bowed hesitantly. “Thank you kindly ma’am; I really appreciate it.”

“But first,” The Night-Mare said, tilting her head toward the entrance of the throne room, “thou shalt tell us the name of thy wing’d companion.”

Rainbow’s heart clenched painfully in her chest as all eyes turned to her. She’d been so entranced by the scene before her, she hadn’t taken care to make sure she was hidden. Now, it took all her willpower to keep her hooves and wings still and not flee back into the maze of hallways.

She squared her shoulders and fought back the panic. “Name’s Rainbow Dash,” she said with all the confidence as she could muster. “Who are you and what are you doing with my friends?”

Applejack brought a hoof to her forehead and groaned quietly under her breath. 

The Day-Mare arched her eyebrows quizzically and glanced at the Night-Mare. “Béald lytel fóla, is héo noht?”

The Night-Mare nodded, eyes narrowing. “Thou art brave to speak with such boldness, Rainbow Dash,” she said. “Come forth, and perhaps we shall not utterly destroy thee for thy insolence.”

Rainbow briefly considered throwing off a smart-aleck retort, but something about the Night-Mare’s voice sent a shudder down her spine. Instead, she bit her tongue and hesitantly stepped out of the hallway.

The only sound was her hoof-falls on the dingy stone tiles, and it seemed to be an eternity before she finally stopped just abreast of Applejack and Twilight. Up close now, she could see fresh gashes across Twilight’s face, and an older dried one across her neck. The unconscious unicorn was breathing shallowly, barely audible whimpers escaping her lips with each exhale.

Looking up from Twilight, Rainbow met the eyes of the Sky-Mares, both staring down at her silently. For some reason her first instinct was to bow and prostrate herself, and it took all her willpower to keep from dropping to bended knee. She planted her hooves and puffed out her chest in defiance. 

“Rainbow,” Applejack said quietly out of the corner of her mouth. “I know subtlety ain’t your strong point, but do me a favor an’ try not to do anythin’ reckless?”

“No problem, AJ.” Rainbow scowled up at the towering alicorn above her, hoping the tremor in her right wing wasn’t too obvious. “I was just about to ask this freak of nature what she wants with you and Twilight.”

Applejack groaned again. “See, that’s exactly what I’m-”

“And speaking of Twilight, what’s wrong with her?” Rainbow’s stress response was pumping adrenaline through her veins, the subtle euphoria fueling her bravado. She pointed an accusing hoof. “Looks like somepony gave her a pretty good beating, sun-butt. Or was it you, moony? How does it feel to pick on a mare half your size?”

“Thyn tunge háldan!” the Day-Mare snapped, stomping a forehoof hard enough to make the floor tremble. Her eyes flared white again and her powerful voice reverberated with barely-checked anger. 

Ears flattening, Rainbow gasped and shrank back in spite of herself. She couldn’t understand the words, but she could feel the raw, radiating power that made her wings tingle and flutter. She broke off eye contact, unable to stand the brilliant, glowing gaze of the Day-Mare, a gaze that might as well be a window to the surface of the sun itself.

“Speak with care, Rainbow Dash,” the Night-Mare said evenly, “For thou art treading on dangerous ground.”

“See what you’ve done?” Applejack hissed. “They were gonna help us until you opened your mouth!”

Rainbow opened her mouth to reply, then thought back a few moments; the Night-Mare had told Applejack they would help. She closed her mouth wordlessly and looked at the ground, suddenly realizing how much she might have cost them with her bluster.

The glow in the Day-Mare’s eyes faded, and she sighed, seemingly more from fatigue than exasperation. “Séo wúndig an laétan we cwiciht haélan, béfor diegan héo.”

“So thu wýscan, sweóstor.” The Night-Mare said as she nodded and spread her wings, horn beginning to glow with a soft silver blue light. The Day-Mare stepped forward and did the same, a golden yellow aura around her own horn. 

Rainbow and Applejack both flinched, but no punishment fell on them. Instead, the two magical glows enveloped Twilight’s body, twirling and tracing arcane symbols and patterns around her wounds. 

“Mid Súnne stréngd ónd Móna efenwégnes…” the Day-Mare intoned quietly, closing her eyes in concentration.

“By the power of the Sun and the balance of the Moon…” the Night-Mare seemingly repeated, matching the soft tone of the Day-Mare’s voice.

“…Thé wúndu becúman haélanol, béuncer gódeswýllan fór thu.”

“…Let thy wounds be made whole, as our grace rests upon thee.”

The intertwined spells faded as the two alicorns stepped back and folded their wings. Rainbow and Applejack cautiously leaned forward, glancing at each other in curious apprehension.

The cuts and gashes on Twilight’s face and neck were gone, even the old scabbed-over ones. The bruise on her side had faded away as well. Her breathing was no longer shallow and thin, but slow and deep.

“Well, I’ll be…” Applejack muttered, eyes wide. “I wasn’t expectin’ that.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Rainbow nodded appreciatively. “I gotta admit, that’s actually pretty neat.”

Without warning, Twilight suddenly jerked her head upright off the floor, eyes wide. “Where am I?” she gasped. “What happened?”

Applejack and Rainbow both jumped back in surprise. They looked briefly at each other, then back at Twilight.

“Well, we’re in the old castle,” Rainbow answered, “but I just got here, so you’ll have to ask A.J. exactly what happened.”

“In the old castle?” Twilight asked, a note of panic rising in her voice. “Oh, no, that’s not good. The Night-Mare is here, we have to get out before she finds us!"

“Whoa nelly, slow down,” Applejack said. She reached out and placed a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder, preventing her from turning around. “Exactly how much do you remember?”

Rainbow had never been good at picking up social cues, but her ears perked slightly at a subtle tone in Applejack’s voice. Was it apprehension? Fear? Concern?

Twilight furrowed her brow and tilted her head. “I remember us talking outside the cave, but not after that…” She raised a hoof to her temple and squeezed her eyes shut. “Ow, my head! What happened?”

Again, something pricked at Rainbow’s brain as Applejack glanced sideways, face clouded and uncertain. The question hung briefly in the air, just long enough to start feeling awkward.

“Well…” Applejack began, but didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence.

“It mattereth not,” the Night-Mare announced impatiently. “We have many questions to ask of thee.”

Twilight’s eyes snapped wide at the voice, but instead of turning around she lunged at Rainbow and Applejack, wrapping her forelegs around them.

Caught off-guard, Rainbow tried to react, but before she could pull away or say something, she felt a brief tingling sensation. Her vision distorted and it seemed for a moment as if the Sky-Mares shrank into the distance, then she suddenly hit the ground and collapsed ungracefully into grass and weeds. 

The surprise impact knocked the breath from Rainbow’s lungs, and a wave of nausea swept over her. She clenched her eyes shut and gritted her teeth, trying to force it back down to her empty stomach. 

“I tell you what,” Applejack said woozily from somewhere to Rainbow’s left, “ain’t no way in tarnation…”

“There’s no time!” Twilight’s voice was in a panic. “Come on, we have to go!”

Rainbow opened her eyes and realized she was outside the castle now, lying next to the dirt path that led into the main courtyard. Behind was the Everfree forest, dark and foreboding as ever, even in bright daylight. 

“Come on, Rainbow!”

From somewhere in the castle, an unearthly cry of rage swept over the forest.

Rainbow dragged herself to her hooves. She shook her head, still disoriented and nauseous, but her brain and body connected enough to start trotting unevenly after Twilight and Applejack.

“This way!” Twilight shouted from up ahead. She and Applejack were rapidly disappearing into the dark woods at a full gallop.

Willing herself to find the energy that had inexplicably been sapped a moment ago, Rainbow spread her wings and began half-galloping, half-flying after the others. It was faster, but still tiring mentally and physically since she had to concentrate harder and move precisely to avoid catching her wings on the close, low-hanging trees,

After a few minutes of frantic half-flying, she caught up with the others. Twilight had slowed to a trot and was scouring the sides of the trail, muttering to herself.

“Come on, come on!” she said frantically. “I know it’s here, it has to be!”

Rainbow flared to a slow trot beside Applejack, breathing much heavier than usual for such a short sprint. “What are you… going on about?” she asked between gasps.

“The cave!” Twilight snapped back. “The Night-Mare probably knows about the main path from the castle, so she’ll be flying over here looking for us. We need to hide for a while.”

Saving her breath, Rainbow nodded instead of speaking. The last day or so had been really difficult, and much as she hated to admit it, she wasn’t anywhere near peak form at the moment.

“You okay sugarcube?” Applejack said quietly, casting a worried eye sideways at Rainbow.

“Pssh, I’m fine!” Rainbow replied weakly. “Just… been flying hard-OW!”

Her eyes began watering at the sudden pain in her right wing. She seethed through clenched teeth, but tried to force out a laugh “Ha, just a little… cramp. You know what… they say: Never… fly on an empty… stomach, right? Or… is that a… full stomach?”

Applejack’s eyebrow raised at the paper-thin performance. “Rainbow, how long’s it been since you ate somethin’?”

“I found it!” Twilight interjected before Rainbow could respond, waving excitedly from farther down the trail. “Here, hurry!”

Rainbow and Applejack trotted forward as Twilight stepped off the trail and disappeared into the underbrush. 

“I dunno,” Rainbow said, still straining against the cramp in her wing, “shouldn’t we be getting back to town? You know, to warn everypony or something?”

Applejack frowned. “No,” she said quietly. “Not yet.”

“Hurry up you two,” Twilight called out, “before the Night-Mare catches us!”

As if to punctuate the words, something large passed almost overhead, low and fast enough to generate a slight gust of wind among the trees. Applejack and Rainbow Dash wasted no time following into the underbrush. A few paces down a slight incline, Twilight was already inside.

The cave wasn’t much to speak of, at least not in Rainbow’s mind. Not having much experience with caves in general, she’d imagined a grand cavern with spikes jutting from the floor and ceiling, perhaps accessed by gliding down through a yawning chasm, with strange crystals and bizarre creatures living in the deepest depths.

In actuality, the “cave” was more like a horizontal crack, about twenty pony-lengths deep and barely tall enough to stand in. Just a damp, grey and brown hole in the side of a steep hill. 

“How’d you know this was here?” Applejack asked, shaking dripping water off her widebrimmed hat.

“Do you remember when Ponyville had the hot coffee rain several weeks ago? Pinkie and I were caught out here and I scalded my leg in a puddle while we were looking for somewhere to take shelter.” Twilight pointed to the rear of the cave. “A bit farther back there’s a cold spring; we used it to keep my leg from getting worse while we waited.”

Rainbow shuddered slightly at the significantly cooler air inside the cave. “It’s cold,” she whined, in spite of herself. “How long do we have to stay here?” 

Applejack turned a concerned eye to Rainbow. “Probably not doin’ too many favors for that there cramp, I’ll bet.”

Rainbow nodded, sitting back on her haunches despite the cold, uncomfortable ground. The cramp would probably work out in time, but right now she wanted nothing more than a hot compress and a massage from Fluttershy’s skillful hooves.

“I don’t know how long,” Twilight admitted with a sigh. “I’m not sure how long the Night-Mare might keep looking for us.” 

“She does seem awfully persistent,” Applejack said. “I can’t quite put a hoof on the Day-Mare, though.”

Twilight’s neck stiffened and her eyes widened. “The Day-Mare is awake too?!”

“Oh yeah…” Applejack shuffled awkwardly. “I reckon you were out for all of that…”

“Speaking of which,” Rainbow interjected. “What happened back there at the castle anyway? You guys get attacked by an Ursa or something?”

“I don’t remember… It’s all blurry, and my head is killing me.” Twilight placed a hoof on her temple. “Applejack, can you fill me in?”

Rainbow watched Applejack’s face, unable to read the subtle emotions with any certainty. Something was bothering her friend, but she couldn’t tell what it was. 

Applejack swallowed audibly, although Rainbow was pretty sure Twilight didn’t notice.  “Well, we got to arguin’ and ended up tusslin’ a bit. You… hit your head pretty bad. I called for help and the Day-Mare showed up to take us to the castle, then they healed you with their magic.”

“Oh yeah,” Twilight muttered, taking on a belligerent tone. “I seem to recall you were going to keep me from going back into town and warning Discord about the Sky-Mares.” 

“Because personally, I don’t really mind much if the Sky-Mares overthrow Discord and take over.” Applejack said. She sounded exasperated, like this was something she’d already explained. “I’ve lived with Chaos my whole life, and if there’s something better, I want it.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Twilight said, voice rapidly rising. “Ponies chose Chaos a thousand years ago because it was better, you thick-skulled mule!” 

Applejack gasped.

“Hey!” Anger surged through Rainbow, making her forget about her cramped wing for a moment. She leapt to her hooves and faced Twilight. “Don’t you talk to her like that!”

“Or what, Rainbow?” Twilight snapped, stepping closer so her nose was almost touching Rainbow’s. “Are you going to buck my skull in?” Because I’m sure it couldn’t hurt any worse than it does right now!”

“Maybe I will if you don’t close your mouth!”

“Rainbow, cool your wings!” Applejack stepped between the two ponies and gently pushed them apart. “I don’t want nopony gettin’ hurt again!”

Backed down but still seething, Rainbow kept her eyes fixed on Twilight. “But she called you a… a mule, A.J.!” she exclaimed, the slur bitter on her tongue. 

“It’s just a word sugarcube,” Applejack said. “I don’t like it, but it ain’t worth getting so worked up over. ‘Sides, I’m sure she didn’t mean it like that.”

Twilight groaned and sat back on her haunches, the anger draining from her face. “You’re right, I didn’t,” she said, rubbing her head again. “I’m sorry; I’m in a lot of pain, and I really don’t have much patience right now.”

Rainbow felt her own emotions ebb as she suddenly realized how trivial the whole thing was. “I think I know what you mean,” she said, bringing a hoof to her stomach. “I’ve got a wing cramp from flying so hard, and I haven’t eaten or slept since it got dark yesterday.”

“Come to think of it, I ain’t had any breakfast neither.” Applejack chuckled softly. “Guess it’s no wonder we’re all so darned crabby.”

Silence fell over the cave, save for the sound of water dripping intermittently. With nothing of her own to say, Rainbow looked to the other two ponies; neither of them seemed in a hurry to speak  either.

In fact, both her companions looked rather troubled. Applejack kept glancing between Rainbow and Twilight, then averting her eyes if either of them noticed. Twilight was lost in thought, but her face betrayed fear behind the pain she was apparently in. There was also the issue of Twilight’s injuries; Applejack had explained, but the now-healed wounds had looked much worse than a simple bump on the head.

Rainbow couldn’t make heads or tails of the situation, and her hunger was making it nearly impossible to concentrate.

“Well I don’t know about you two,” she said. “but I’m gonna go graze a little before I keel over.”

“I’ll come with you,” Applejack said quickly. “I’m feeling mighty peaked myself.”

“Just be careful,” Twilight said, concern edging her voice. “The Sky-Mares are probably still out there and looking for us. Stay away from the path and under the trees if you can.”

Applejack huffed as if to say “you ain’t the boss of me,” but nodded agreement anyway as she followed Rainbow to the entrance of the cave, leaving Twilight inside.

The sun instantly warmed Rainbow’s back and wings, making her hum appreciatively. The air itself was still chilly from the long darkness, but at least outside it was finally starting to warm up, unlike the interior of the cave.

“Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I actually grazed?” Rainbow mused as she pawed at a bit of wild grass, breaking up any clumped-together strands.

Applejack’s mouth was already occupied on a large bite of alfalfa. “I don’t reckon how you manage then,” she said while chewing. “I graze all the time out in the orchards an’ fields to keep my strength up. Saves time too, since I don’t hafta do big meals.”

“I usually eat more prepared stuff,” Rainbow explained, taking a bite of the semi-sweet grass. “Pegasai need more energy density since we’re flying all the time. Up in Cloudsale they used to import tons of grass and hay, then smash it into bars so you can get more in one bite than ten minutes of grazing.”

“Ugh, that’d turn my stomach five ways to next week.” Applejack stuck out her tongue. “I’m fine with the occasional hay fries or veggie burger, but that much food at once just ain’t good for a pony.”

Rainbow shrugged. “Eh, you get used to it pretty fast. They can sometimes make different flavors too, like chocolate, depending on what Chaos brings.”

“I guess I just prefer the natural stuff,” Applejack said, taking another bite. 

They grazed in silence for a bit, milling around under one of the large trees by a tiny stream that grew long, juicy bunches of crabgrass on its banks. Rainbow even found a few savory mushrooms at the base of the tree, a welcome treat that rarely occurred in Ponyville.

Gradually, her hunger began to abate and her mind cleared somewhat. She probably still needed a hearty meal before her energy would fully return, but this light snack rested easily on her stomach without making her overfull.

“By the way,” Applejack said, breaking the silence, “where you been off to? I ain’t seen you around for more’n a week, I reckon.”

Swallowing her current bite, Rainbow looked at the ground for a moment before responding. “Just out of town,” she said quietly as an unpleasant feeling spread through her chest. “I… needed to get away for a while.”

“What for?”

“I dunno.” Rainbow turned and walked over to the small stream, sitting down on the bank. “I just couldn’t stay around any longer.”

Applejack followed Rainbow and sat next to her. “Ponyville gettin’ too small for you?” she asked. “I know with Cloudsdale fallin’ apart again we’re getting a ton of new Pegasi in town and the skies seem pretty crowded.”

Rainbow shook her head. “No, it’s not that.”

“Then what? Buncha ponies gettin’ worried, y’know.”

Hearing what she already suspected, Rainbow felt a twist of guilt in her chest. Many ponies in town depended on her, for everything from flying heavy building materials, to helping Ditzy deliver the mail on time.

“Yeah, I know. It’s just…”

“Somepony do somethin’?”

After a long pause to think, Rainbow nodded silently, then jerked her head toward the cave entrance.

Applejack glanced back at the cave, then looked forward again. “Rainbow, Twilight’s just another jerk,” she said quietly. “That mare don’t care ‘bout nopony but herself. You just gotta kick some clouds an’ get over it, y’know?”

“I know, and I tried that.” Rainbow tried to keep her voice steady. “I kicked more clouds in the last couple weeks than I have all year, but…”

“But what?”

“I’m not…” Rainbow took a deep, quivering breath. “I’m not like you, A.J. You just tell it like it is. If somepony breaks your trust like Twilight did, they lose it and have to earn it back, ‘no sense cryin’ over spilt milk’ and stuff.”

She paused, but Applejack provided no rebuttal or agreement, just a nod.

“It’s… different… for me. When I make friends with a pony, it’s like... I can’t really explain it, but I have to be there for them, no matter what.”

“You’re loyal,” Applejack offered, filling in the missing word.

“Yeah, that’s it. The thing is, I can’t just let it go like you can. I just…” Her voice cracked and she trailed off, unable to force anything else out. Her throat seemed abnormally tight, and her eyes were puffy and burning. After a long pause, she tried to speak again, but her mouth wouldn’t form any words. 

“She hurt you bad, didn’t she?” Applejack asked softly. 

Rainbow choked out a single sob but managed to clamp a hoof over her mouth before any more could escape. Her eyes were harder to stop, and she looked away in embarrassment as hot tears ran down her cheeks. 

It did hurt, deeper than she wanted to admit. The connection she felt was more than just being friends; Applejack, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, and Zecora all had her loyalty. Rainbow would do anything for them, forsaking her own wants, needs, or even her life if it came to that. 

It was a sacred trust, one which she would never break, and she’d inexplicably felt the same for Twilight despite their short few weeks of friendship. Now, Twilight had broken that trust, and as hard as she tried, Rainbow couldn’t reconcile her feelings; this kind of betrayal was so far outside her personal code, it might as well be an alien language. 

Applejack shifted closer and leaned forward, trying to catch Rainbow’s eyes. “Is that why you left?

She had to think about the question, but after a moment Rainbow nodded. She’d been trying so hard to rid herself of Twilight, the only thing that made sense at the time had been leaving the place she knew Twilight. Now in hindsight, it seemed like a pretty dumb thing to try and do.

“You can’t just run from your feelin’s, sugarcube,” Applejack said gently, voicing what Rainbow was beginning to realize. “They’re a part of you, like it or not, and sometimes with the bad ones you hafta get ‘em out; talk about ‘em or something, or else they’ll eat you up inside.”

Finally trusting her voice enough to speak, Rainbow removed the hoof she’d been pressing against her mouth. “I don’t know if I can,” she said shakily, wiping her eyes. “Not right now, anyways.”

“That’s all right,” Applejack said. She rubbed a friendly hoof against Rainbow’s shoulder. “Anytime you need to ramble and get somethin’ off your chest, lemme know. That’s what the rest of us are here for.”

“Thanks, A.J.” Rainbow sniffed and blinked to clear the receding tears. “Speaking of,” she said, hoping to redirect the conversation away from herself, “you’re acting funny. Is something bothering you too?”

Applejack sighed and looked away. “Frankly, yes,” she replied. “I been tryin’ to forget about it, but I guess I ain’t been doing a very good job.”

“What is it?”

Looking back toward the cave, Applejack was momentarily silent. When she spoke, her voice was low and quiet. “Remember how I said Twilight hit her head?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, there’s more to it than that.” Applejack’s voice sounded strained as she peered into the darkness of the cave entrance.“We was arguin’, and I kinda… snapped.”

Applejack looked away from the cave and down at the small stream. “I honest-to-goodness can’t remember how many times I hit her, but it was bad. Really bad. I didn’t think she was ever gonna wake up.”

A shudder went down Rainbow’s spine as she involuntarily glanced at Applejack’s torso and legs. Unlike most ponies who had to shake a tree multiple times to jostle out all the apples, Applejack could do it in one kick. It made Rainbow’s stomach turn to imagine the kind of damage those steel-shod hooves could do to another pony. 

Rainbow stole a glance of her own at the cave, just to make sure they were still alone. She couldn’t see inside because of the bright sunlight, but she imagined Twilight sitting in the cold and damp, watching them suspiciously. 

“Well... for what it’s worth, it seems like she doesn’t remember,” she said, turning to Applejack again. 

“And I’d prefer to keep it that way,” Applejack said. “By the way, we can’t let her get back to Ponyville, least not yet.”

“Why not?” Rainbow asked. 

“Because she’s planning on warning Emperor Discord about the Sky Mares,” Applejack answered darkly, “and there ain’t no way in Tartarus I’m lettin’ that happen.”


> Chapter 8
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

From the darkness of the cave Twilight watched Rainbow Dash and Applejack grazing, and with each passing minute her insides twisted in tighter knots. She didn’t know if the Sky-Mares were still searching or what they might see from the sky, and each moment longer increased their chances of being spotted.

She consoled herself with the knowledge that at least if the two boneheads out there got themselves caught, she’d be able to stay hidden here, or teleport away to another spot she already knew was safe. Then she’d be free to— 

Her thoughts were cut short by a surge of pain, and she brought a hoof to her forehead to massage the spot. The headache she’d been nursing for the past few days now seemed to have blossomed into a full-blown migraine, pulsing through her forehead and extending through her jaw and neck. It blended down into a dull ache over her entire torso, although she wasn’t sure anymore which was referred or real pain. 

Almost as if to add insult to injury, her stomach grumbled loudly, reminding her she hadn’t eaten anything substantial for several hours. Or maybe it was longer; she couldn’t recall exactly. She would have liked to leave the cave and graze with the others, but fear of being discovered pushed the desire back down. 

At least the hunger had a quantifiable reason, unlike the pain. As best she could figure, her body ache was a by-product of rushed teleportation; the spell usually required at least a few moments mental and physical preparation, which would have tipped off the Sky-Mares to her intent.

Teleportation was also a relatively short-range, line-of-sight spell, certainly not intended for the large distance and multiple stone walls between the throne room and outer castle courtyard. Increased range and obstruction meant greater magical strain, more time in dimensional flux, quantum signal degradation, and less precise molecular reconstruction, among other things. Powerful sorcerers had been said to essentially teleport themselves out of existence trying to push the limits of the spell before fully understanding how it worked. 

She also considered the possibility that her apparent head injury was at least partially to blame, according to Applejack anyway. Perhaps the Sky-Mares’ healing spell was incomplete or outdated, good enough for a millennium ago but no longer up to snuff with modern magics. That could be the cause of her splitting migraine, though it didn’t explain the ache in her ribs. 

Twilight stopped and chuckled to herself; if Discord could see inside her brain at a time like this, he’d chide her for wasting time on “all that science-y mumbo-jumbo” and “logical deducing”. She should be taking rash action, throwing caution to the wind, making buffet tables and dancing balloon animals out of thin air, or something equally chaotic.

In fact, the last part wasn’t even a bad idea, now that she thought of it. Not the dancing balloon animals, but the buffet table.

Getting slowly to her hooves, she shrugged off her saddlebags and pushed them against a wall of the cave. A quick check revealed the Seeds of Discord were still tucked securely among items like her manebrush, other toiletries, and a few simple clothes. Unfortunately she had not packed any food or snacks, so a cheap imitation would have to do for now. 

Pushing past the pain in her skull, she began focusing her magic. She recalled Discord’s primer on conjuring objects out of thin air, performed the mental incantation, and released the spell. A surge of agony nearly knocked her on her haunches again, but she gritted her teeth and blinked back tears until it subsided.

When the pain was back to manageable levels, she noted with satisfaction that the spell had worked as intended, materializing a small table set with various foods, some familiar and some entirely foreign to her. It was an attractive spread, although the place settings were sloppy and the dishes mismatched.

Not wanting to suffer even the moderate pain of levitating a small object, Twilight opted for the earth pony way, grabbing a stalk of celery off the table with her teeth. She chewed heartily, relishing the mild bitter taste before swallowing and setting her sights on a delicious-looking green apple. 

As she enjoyed its crisp, juicy sweetness, she knew perfectly well that the conjured fruit wasn’t a long-term answer. The apple was a mere illusion with a half-life of a few hours, a solid shadow cast from the energy of another dimension; its mass would eventually decay and disappear like all magically-created objects, leaving no nutritional value or lasting satiation.

But for the moment the pseudo-matter rested convincingly enough on her empty stomach, and with each additional bite her hunger pangs gradually subsided until she felt full. A quick burst of magic dispelled the table and remaining food; thankfully that spell wasn’t very taxing and didn’t aggravate her migraine too badly. With luck, the imitation meal would be enough to keep her until she could eat something more substantial. 

She managed to find a somewhat dry patch of cave floor and laid on her stomach, legs tucked. Peering out of the cave, she saw Rainbow Dash and Applejack sitting on the bank of a small brook some distance away under the trees. They were still talking, but their voices had lowered, and she could no longer distinguish any words. She tilted her head slightly and squinted, as if it might help her hear better. 

Rainbow glanced back at the cave, then quickly away again. Her body language had changed somehow. Applejack looked back as well, then after a moment turned and whispered something to Rainbow.

Something felt wrong, but Twilight couldn’t put a hoof on it. Although she knew it was impossible for the other mares to see into the darkness from outside, she shifted uncomfortably and an uneasy feeling began to settle over her. While Applejack and Rainbow didn’t exactly seem like conspiratorial types, their actions and demeanors were furtive at best.

Applejack had made it abundantly clear she didn’t trust Twilight any further than she could throw her. Even though that was probably pretty far in real-world terms, Twilight knew she wouldn’t be able to step hoof within a hundred paces of a post office until Applejack was out of the picture.

Rainbow’s disposition was a little bit harder to guess. She had only said a couple words to Twilight so far, but it was clear she was fiercely loyal to Applejack by default. In fact, Applejack was probably playing on that loyalty right now, poisoning Rainbow’s mind even further with words of friendship and trust. 

Twilight knew if those two turned against her, she’d never succeed. As a unicorn, she normally would have the advantage of pure magic over pegasi and earth ponies, but in her weakened state she could barely hope to stand against one of them, let alone both. Better to try and interrupt them from plotting against her before it went too far.

She forced herself back to her hooves, gritting her teeth against the protest of her joints. She walked forward to the very edge of the cave, taking care to stay hidden from any large patches of sky overhead.

“Are you two almost finished?” she called, hopefully just loud enough to carry no farther than the banks of the nearby stream.

Rainbow started, her wings fluttering reflexively. Applejack looked back and scowled; “Yeah, in a minute,” she replied, then turned and whispered something to Rainbow again.

A slight gust of wind rustled the trees. Twilight swallowed, throat tightening. “No, now!” she cried softly but insistently. 

Applejack stomped sharply on the rocky edge of the riverbank. “Would you park your cart, Twilight? We’re tryin’ to have a conversation here!”

The snap of hoof on stone was probably not very loud, but to Twilight’s tense nerves it could very well have been a thunderbolt cracking overhead. “Are you crazy?!” she hissed. “Keep quiet or they’ll find us!”

The sunlight filtering down through the leaves dimmed as Applejack began to respond. “Now listen here, little miss—”

Something crashed through the forest canopy, bathing the ground in brilliant sunlight. The object struck between Twilight and the other two mares with tremendous force, sending a shockwave of dirt, stone, and grass in all directions.

Twilight flinched, but instead of being thrown back, an invisible force yanked her forward. For a brief moment, all she could see was a tiny pinprick of black that warped the very light around it, sucking her toward oblivion.

The dot suddenly blinked out of existence, and Twilight hit the forest floor, bouncing and skidding until she tumbled to a rough stop. Before she could get her bearings, a deep blue glow flashed, then disappeared.

Her head was spinning, throbbing with pain. The world looked skewed and blurry, swirls of green and brown, interspersed with glares of blinding light. Sound was muffled and dull. For a moment all she could feel was the agony in her skull, but gradually she could identify the sensation of cool grass underneath her back.

She tried to find her hooves and get upright. Her body refused to cooperate, and she only succeeded in rolling lazily onto her side. Her vision was clearing though, and as the world came into focus she discerned a dark shape looming nearby. A shape that gradually began to look like a very large pony. 

“What good fortune,” the Night-Mare said. “Only two could we see, yet the troublesome third hath we snared as well.”

Twilight gasped, and hurriedly tried to recall the nearby teleportation destination she had prepared previously. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she focused, performed the spell, and released her magic.

Nothing happened. 

She tried again, the agony in her head becoming nearly unbearable. Again the spell inexplicably failed, not even giving a slight interdimensional tug. She puzzled at the sudden inhibition, then something drew her vision downward and she realized the earth around her was etched with circular runes and lines.

“Hey, what is this!?” A short distance away above another rune circle, Rainbow Dash struggled to fly, wings churning against some invisible pull keeping her near the ground. Her face was contorted in pain, probably from the cramp she’d been complaining about earlier.

Applejack was similarly straining to escape. The muscles in her legs rippled, hooves planted firmly to the earth. She managed a step or two outside the runes before her considerable strength failed and she was pulled back into the center, panting and sweating. 

The Night-Mare chuckled at their failure. “Cease thy vain strugglings little ponies. Far older and greater than thee are the magics we possess.”

Twilight’s heart was slamming against her ribs, threatening to burst out and escape without her. “Wh-what are you going to do with us?” she asked haltingly.

“Verily, for thy attempt to destroy the sacred Tree we would fain bring swift judgement,” the Night-Mare said with a frown, “but being as thy evil was possibly misguided, it is agreed thy punishment shall be temporarily stayed until the true affections of thy heart may be learned.”

She stepped closer and leaned down, eyes narrowing.“Honestly if it were only up to me, I’d kill you now just to be done with it.”

The voice was no longer earth-shatteringly powerful; it was now quiet as a whisper and clear as glass, with no antiquated affectation. The difference sent a shiver down Twilight’s spine. 

“It’d be easy too,” the Night-Mare mused, cool malice rolling off her tongue, “just a quick snap of the neck or a hoof to the skull before Her Royal Sunshine gets here, and ‘oh no!’, you fought back and had to be put down.” She tsk-tsked sarcastically. “Such a pity. But let’s table that idea for now.”

Before Twilight could reply, the Night-Mare straightened back to full height and turned to the others. “For thee Applejack, not many may claim to have successfully struck the royal body in violence. Thy earth-strength hath few equals, and we are duly impressed.”

With a raised eyebrow, Applejack glanced at Twilight and Rainbow. “Uhhh… thank you, I guess?” she replied hesitantly.

The Night-Mare nodded. “Alas, such blatant disrespect must not go unanswered.” Her horn flared, and a sharp crack split the forest air.

Applejack screamed. For a split second Twilight caught a glimpse of something long and wavy snaking through the air, glowing the same silvery blue as the Night-Mare’s magic. 

The whip cracked again, and another agonized shriek echoed through the trees; it was a sound Twilight had never even imagined a pony could make.

As abruptly as it had appeared, the whip vanished. Applejack collapsed and immediately rolled over onto her side, whole body shaking as her legs curled in tightly to her stomach. 

“AJ!” Rainbow shouted. She whirled toward the Night-Mare. “WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

“Question not,” the Night-Mare snapped. “Thou shouldst know the decreed punishment for even attempting violence on the royal body is two-score lashes; be thankful we are of merciful disposition this day.”

Rainbow’s mouth was already open to retort, but apparently thought better and held her tongue. Twilight didn’t believe the daredevil pegasus knew exactly what a “score” was, but she obviously understood that it was much more than two. 

Stunned, Twilight herself merely stared at Applejack’s quivering body. Though the ethereal whip had left no obvious marks, the powerful muscles along Applejack’s spine were twitching and spasming. The strong, tough-natured pony was sobbing unabashedly, tears gushing down her cheeks as she curled into an ever-tighter ball. 

“As for thee, Rainbow Dash,” the Night-Mare continued. “Despite thy impudence in the face of royalty, thou hast broken no law. Thou art free to go, and we bid thee fly swiftly lest our anger be kindled against thee.”

There was another flash from the Night-Mare’s horn, and the circle of runes around Rainbow disappeared.

“Whoa, what?” Surprised at her sudden freedom, Rainbow looked rapidly between Twilight and the Night-Mare. Confusion and disbelief flickered across her face for a moment, finally giving way to grateful relief until she glanced back to Applejack.

Something else appeared in Rainbow’s eyes then, more than simple loyalty or determination, something Twilight could not quite define. Whatever it was, that brief moment was all it took. In a blur of color, she was at Applejack’s side. She wrapped her forelegs and wings protectively around her trembling friend, both comforting and protecting, then glared up in defiance at the Night-Mare.

“Rainbow!” Twilight gasped. “What are you doing!? Get out of here!” As heartwarming as the gesture might be, it was also uselessly naive. 

“No Twilight,” Rainbow replied firmly. “I’m staying right here.”

Twilight’s gut churned; she wasn’t friends with Rainbow any longer, but she didn’t want to see her hurt or killed either. Unable to do anything except watch, she looked up at the Night-Mare and waited for the whip to fall again. 

For several moments, nopony moved. The Night-Mare was silent; her eyes flashed with tranquil fury and her jaw clenched repeatedly. Rainbow continued staring, unflinching. Applejack’s sobs had faded to quiet whimpers, muffled in the grass.

Finally, the Night-Mare nodded. “Very well, Rainbow Dash,” she said, slowly and deliberately with a threatening edge. “Thou hath cast thy lot with the accused; think not that thou will be afforded any mercy from here. 

“In answer to thy question, Twilight Sparkle,” she continued, turning away from Rainbow and Applejack, “we shall imprison thee and thy friends until such time as thy fate be decided.”

More fears and questions rose in Twilight’s mind, but before she was able to give voice to any of them a movement above the trees caught her eyes.

Swooping into the broken forest canopy, the Day-Mare dove through the broken branches,  sunlight gleaming off her brilliant coat. She half-turned to bleed off speed, and flared to a graceful stop next to the Night-Mare. “Feórraweg ofér weald ic wæs. Gélimpan hwæt?”

“Thæs thrie fand ic.” the Night-Mare replied cooly. “Tha ánhorn ónhearm so thu wýscan, gieta on éorthewealcend min prýto gésadian ic. Fer wengefleógestre, toleas héo wýlful ic, giéta abidán wid fréonde céosan héo.”

The Day-Mare frowned slightly. “Ondón scéolde thu widútan mé,” she said, looking down at Applejack and Rainbow. The latter glared back up in silence, still holding Applejack protectively. “Gieta, swa hit be. Stryngháldan bríngan hie wýlla ic. Gán, loc wid spél mácian ræde.”

Night-Mare paused. She stared at the Day-Mare, as if deciding whether to speak. After a moment, she turned to Twilight, eyes filled with cold anger and hatred beyond compare.

It was a gaze that caught Twilight’s breath in her throat and nearly stopped her heart.

The moment passed, then the Night-Mare spread her wings, almost silently taking to the sky. In seconds, she disappeared beyond the trees.

Twilight released her breath. Her foreleg was trembling and her mind raced with confusion; as much as the Night-Mare’s hateful stare had been for Twilight, the dark alicorn had stared at her light counterpart with every ounce of that same hatred, if not more.

With a sigh, the Day-Mare strode toward Rainbow and Applejack. “Bædlic hyrthad héo be?” Her voice was soft and low, unlike the powerful tone she had used earlier.

Rainbow seemed taken aback at the kindness in the voice, and glanced at Twilight quizzically. Twilight shrugged in response; the two ancient princesses and their language were as much a mystery to her as anypony.

“Uhh, I…  don’t understand what you just said,” Rainbow replied hesitantly.

“Swær be æppeljákke wúndu?” The Day-Mare gestured toward Applejack. 

“I think she might be asking if Applejack is hurt…?” Twilight suggested hesitantly. Although she could not discern any specifics, the language was probably an ancient precursor to modern Discordian and some of the words were beginning to sound distantly familiar.

“I don’t really know,” Rainbow responded to Twilight, voice tinged with worry. “She’s still shaking, but I can’t see any marks on her.”

A golden glow suddenly appeared around Rainbow, pulling her into the air and off Applejack’s curled body. “Hey! Put me down!” she shouted indignantly, writhing against the magical energy. “Leave her alone or you’ll regret it!”

Apparently the Day-Mare was tired of waiting for the language barrier to come down. Holding Rainbow aloft a short distance away, her golden magic danced over Applejack’s back and torso as if searching for something.

It didn’t take long, and after a moment the Day-Mare stepped back. “Wúndu nan hábban, giéta micél hyrtol be héo. Hwænne wé becúman stryngháldan, hóo giefán frófor wýlla ic.”

The glow around Rainbow disappeared, dropping her to the ground. Immediately she rushed back to Applejack’s side and assumed a protective stance.

New magic gathered around the Day-Mare’s horn, and Twilight could feel a familiar tingle in the air. She opened her mouth to protest, but the world stretched in that odd way, and she felt the spell pull her away from the clearing. For a split second trees, sky, earth, and stone whipped past. Her ears popped, and suddenly she was wrapped in darkness, with cool, smooth stone beneath her hooves.

After a moment she realized the side effects of being forcibly teleported over a long distance were strangely absent. Her whole body still ached, but no more than before. Without the nausea and mental fog, it took only seconds to reorient herself as her eyes adjusted.

She was in a small, grey cell similar to the ones she’d passed in the dungeon-basement of the old castle. The three walls and barred iron door were unremarkable, but the floor was etched with a larger version of the same runes the Night-Mare had used in the forest, stretching from wall-to-wall. In the darkness, she could now see the runes were dimly luminescent, glowing the same deep blue she’d seen previously in the castle halls.

Across the hall from her, Applejack was lying in another identical cell. Above the barred doorway, a single greenish-white light gem glowed. Based on the amount of light and the pattern of shadows, there was probably another similar gem above Twilight’s own cell. 

Rainbow was nowhere to be seen, but the Day-Mare stood in the hallway, facing away from Twilight. She was focusing her golden-hued magic, which danced briefly over Applejack’s back and head before ceasing. 

“What are you doing to her?!”

The shout made Twilight jump, and her heart briefly redoubled its panicked pounding. 

”You better not be hurting her again!”

The voice had come from somewhere to the left, and Twilight realized Rainbow had been placed in the adjacent cell, hidden from sight by the thick stone walls. Almost immediately she pushed the startled anxiety back with a scowl. “Rainbow, if you don’t stop yelling I’m going to disappear the snout right off your face!”

Rainbow’s tirade cut off in surprise. After a moment, she replied apprehensively; “You can do that?”

“There’s always a first time for everything,” Twilight grumbled. 

“She shall not be harmed, Rainbow Dash.” From the corridor to the right, the Night-Mare strode into view. “She hath been sufficiently chastised until such time as we shall judge her guilt in other matters.”

“Guilt?” Rainbow replied indignantly. “What’s she done to be guilty for?”

“She hath conspired with Twilight Sparkle, the Tree of Harmony to destroy.”

Twilight gasped as she realized the misunderstanding. “No, that’s not true!” she protested, stepping forward. “Applejack was only trying —”

The Night-Mare whirled on her. “SILENCE, THOU PUPPET OF CHAOS!” she shouted, making everypony in the dungeon startle and jump. “Seek not to deceive our judgment with thy treasonous tongue!”

Quailing before the earth-shattering verbal onslaught, Twilight stumbled back to the farthest corner of her cell, ears ringing. Her migraine returned in full force and tears leaked from her eyes as she bit her lip against the pain.

After a moment of silence, the Day-Mare spoke, almost inaudibly. “Móna, spécan thu syndrig mæg ic?”

The Night-Mare turned and glared briefly at her sister, then quickly stepped out of sight.

As hoofsteps receded a short distance down the dungeon corridor, the Day-Mare stepped to Rainbow’s cell. For a moment she seemed to ponder, before leaning down toward Rainbow. “Slæpan,” she said slowly, and pointed to the motionless Applejack.

“Uh…” Rainbow didn’t give any indication she understood in the slightest.

“Slæpan. Ræstan héo,” the Day-Mare said, more insistently. Then she closed her eyes and tilted her head to the side, imitating a light snore.

“Oh!” Twilight could hear the excited understanding in Rainbow’s voice. “She’s sleeping!”

“Gise! ‘Sleeping’ héo. Ræstán héo móste, bæcúman sóna wýllan wé.” The Day-Mare was wearing a bemused grin at her successful communication. “Sleeping...” she said to herself, as she turned from the cell and followed the Night-Mare. “wýrd hu micél óndyde wéarte thæt…”

Their hoofsteps faded, and somewhere in the distance a heavy door closed and latched. Silence fell over the dungeon as the echo faded, leaving Twilight and Rainbow Dash alone in the dim, pale-green light.

After a few moments, Rainbow spoke. “So… why do you think she put Applejack to sleep?”

Twilight shrugged reflexively although she knew Rainbow couldn’t see her. “I wish I knew.” she said shakily, rubbing her ears and wiping the tears from her cheeks. Thankfully the ringing was subsiding and the pain in her head was gradually fading.

She couldn’t understand why her actions warranted such malice from the Night-Mare. Granted, she had probably violated some ancient laws by trying to destroy the Tree of Harmony, but while the Night-Mare was vindictive and harsh, the Day-Mare seemed mildly perturbed at worst, even somewhat sympathetic. The two alicorns were turning out to be complete opposites in more than just color.

“What do you think they’re gonna do to us?”

“I really don’t know.” Twilight got back to her hooves and walked to the door of her cell. The bars of the cell door were iron, spaced closely enough that she could only push her snout through. The door was locked with a binding spell instead of any key or mechanical means. She could probably break the spell under normal circumstances, but a quick probe confirmed she still couldn’t even conjure a basic light spell.

“What did she mean with you and AJ destroying the ‘Tree of Harmony’ or whatever it was?”

Twilight groaned and sat on her haunches, resting her aching forehead against the cool iron bars. “It’s complicated.” she mumbled. 

“Implying I can’t follow along?” Rainbow’s voice had an air of indignant challenge.

Even though she couldn’t actually Rainbow past the own cell wall, Twilight scowled sideways through the bars. “I didn’t say that,” she replied, not bothering to hide the annoyance in her voice, “but since you asked: the Tree of Harmony is that crystal tree I was studying in the caves near here. Its power counteracts Chaos, which is why I was so interested to study it.”

“What does that have to do with us?”

“As I spent time with the five of you, I found a connection between your friendships, and the magic from the Tree of Harmony,” Twilight continued. “When I finally suspected what it was, I reported to Discord. He sent me back to destroy the Tree so it wouldn’t be able to spread Harmony and trap anyone else.” She sighed. “As you can probably guess, I failed.”

“So…” Rainbow paused for a moment. “If the Tree’s magic is connected to our friendship… then what would happen if you destroyed it?”

“Well, I hoped it would break the hold Harmony has over you,” Twilight replied. Fatigue, pain, and general frustration had chipped away at whatever tact she might have cared to express. “You’ve been blinded by its lies, thinking that it would bring you happiness.”

“Lemme get this straight… you’re saying we’ve just been brainwashed by a magic tree? That’s the only reason we’re friends?”

“Precisely.” Twilight stood back up and began wandering aimlessly around the cell. “In reality, your friendships are an illusion, a crutch that makes you dependent on the emotional whims of others instead of accepting your fate and trusting Chaos.”

She paused, but Rainbow remained silent. After a moment without a response, she decided to press a little further. “See, that’s the insidious thing about Harmony,” she continued, “it fills you with all these good feelings, but in the end it’s just smoke and mirrors. Harmony can’t stand up to Chaos, and—”

“Argh, enough!” Rainbow’s hooves slammed into the shared wall hard enough to shake dust off the stonework and make Applejack shift restlessly in her sleep. “I don’t care about ‘chaos this’ and ‘chaos that’. We were doing just fine until you came along!”

The interruption made Twilight sputter. “I just— well, I was only trying to help y—” 

“Help us!?” Rainbow’s wings fluttered audibly. “You weren’t just abandoning our friendship, you were going to destroy it! Were you ever really our friend? Or was it all fake?”  

A small lump rose in Twilight’s throat at the memory of sobbing violently while she penned five identical letters by candlelight. “I was… misguided. The pull of harmony is powerful—” She shook her head to clear the sudden prick of conscience. “But that doesn’t matter; your friendships aren’t real.”

“Who gave you the right to decide what’s real and what’s not!?” Rainbow snapped, voice suddenly strained. “It was real for us! It was real for—” The rising tirade cut off abruptly.

A few seconds passed. Her own emotions back under control, Twilight stepped to the bars of her cell. “Well, Rainbow?” she prodded, prepared to debate in earnest.

“Ugh, you just don’t get it,” came the reply, quieter now.

“Don’t get what?”

“Just shut up,” Rainbow said brusquely. “Shut up and leave me alone.”

For a moment Twilight thought of pressing the issue, but a little voice in her head reminded her that she still needed help to survive this predicament. While she could probably browbeat Rainbow into submission intellectually and philosophically, doing so would likely create an enemy instead of an ally. 

Besides, something in Rainbow’s voice had triggered a sense of restraint. Twilight couldn’t put a hoof on it, but somehow she felt less inclined to begin brutally deconstructing Rainbow’s blind worship of Harmony.

After a few minutes of pointless meandering, she settled for examining the runes and magic bindings on her cell. While the runes inhibited any kind of active spellcasting, she could still observe and passively interact with the magical energies to a limited extent, and began probing and observing the spells where possible.

It was a slow process. Rune magic was a lost art at best; the runes themselves yielded no hints as to their origin or capabilities, and the few surviving books on the subject were filled with more mysticism than fact. About the only thing they agreed on was that a properly constructed rune circle could maintain complex spells for days, weeks, or even years if the practitioner was powerful enough.

Some experimentation revealed that the magical fields were alive with activity, and she quickly realized part of the rune-magic seemed to function as some sort of lock, made up of swirling eddies and waves interacting and reacting in complex feedback loops. With the right combination or key, the lock could be picked, breaking the spell. 

In theory she could try every possible combination, although it would probably be shorter to sit and wait for the spell to degrade and expire on its own. Still, it was better than doing nothing, and she quickly got to work.





After nearly two hours experimenting, Twilight sat on her haunches among various rudimentary rock-scratched diagrams and begrudgingly concluded it was effectively impossible to escape without being released. She’d tried hundreds of combinations and nearly exhausted her own knowledge and magic, but the Night-Mare had deftly closed every possible weakness in the spell. 

Another cramp made her double over and clutch at her midsection. Hunger pangs had been gradually creeping up on her for the last half-hour, made doubly worse because magically-conjured food had degraded sooner than she expected. 

She must have groaned out loud, because Rainbow Dash moved across her own cell toward the bars. “Twilight? You okay?” The question was almost obligatory, but there was still some concern in Rainbow’s voice. 

“I’m hungry,” Twilight admitted. “I haven’t eaten anything for hours.”

“Can’t say you didn’t have the chance.”

The barb stung more than it should have. Twilight was already berating herself for not grazing with the others, and having Rainbow point it out was like salt on the wound. 

“I know, I know,” she grumbled. “For your information, I wasn’t exactly planning on getting caught again, but some of us just couldn’t stay put.” She passive-aggressively emphasized the latter phrase.

“Yeah, I guess that’s fair…” Rainbow’s hoof scuffed across the stone floor as she trailed off. “Hey, how’s the magical escape attempt going?” she asked, changing the subject. 

Twilight glanced at the dividing wall with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity. “How did you know?”

“You’ve been talking to yourself, duh.”

Although she didn’t recall doing so, Twilight could admit that did sound like her. “Fair enough. It’s going pretty poorly, to be honest,” she said, idly reviewing her rock-scratched notes. “I’ve tried everything I can think of, but I can’t seem to crack this rune circle. It’s like a lock without a key, if that makes sense. The combination seems to be set by an evolving waveform with multiple harmonic sub-frequencies, and each one is tied to a self-modifying—” 

Rainbow pretended to stifle a very loud yawn.

At first, Twilight’s instinct was to bristle at the interruption, but the feeling dissipated as the absurdity of explaining the spell in such detail became apparent. “I suppose that doesn’t really matter, huh?”

“You pretty much lost me after the key part,” Rainbow replied. 

An involuntary chuckle escaped Twilight’s throat and Rainbow laughed softly. For a brief moment, the unexpected levity seemed to make the situation a little more bearable, but awkward silence quickly fell over the dungeon again.

For Twilight the laughter triggered memories of several weeks ago, when such a joke might have prompted a self-depreciating “country bumpkin” parody from Applejack, or a gut-busting non-sequitur from Pinkie Pie. She recalled shivering in the town hall with Rarity while passing out blankets to other freezing ponies, helping Fluttershy and Zecora tend to sick fillies at the cottage, the ineffable relief and gratitude when Rainbow Dash saved her from the timberwolves in the old castle.

Her mind stopped on the last one. The memory overlapped the events of two hours previous, when Rainbow had similarly ignored her own freedom to protect Applejack from the Night-Mare. She remembered the indefinable look in Rainbow’s eyes; that fierce, undying devotion that somehow superseded even loyalty. 

But what caused her heart to skip a beat, what made her breath catch in her throat, was realizing she’d seen that same look before, when Rainbow had selflessly saved her from certain painful death at the teeth of the timberwolves.

She swallowed forcefully and tried to ignore the memory, but her mind wouldn’t let it go. She mulled the images around again and again, trying to make sense of it, and yet she could not help but come up short.

“Rainbow?” she asked, stepping nearer to the bars of the cell.

“…Yeah?”

Twilight took a deep breath. “What happened out there in the forest?”

“What do you mean?” Rainbow sounded confused but curious.

“When the Night-Mare let you go,” Twilight explained. “Why… why did you stay? Why didn’t you run?”

Thick silence shrouded the two cells as the question hung in the air. Twilight waited with bated breath.

“…I don’t know,” Rainbow said, her voice thin. “It just… felt like the right thing to do.”

“No, there’s more to it than that,” Twilight pressed. “I saw something in you, something I’ve only ever seen once before when you saved me from the timberwolves. It was more than just loyalty, Rainbow, and I need to know what it was.”

She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she heard Rainbow’s breathing grow shaky. For what seemed like forever, the only sound was the occasional shuffle of hooves. Finally, she took a deep breath and spoke. “I guess—” 

Somewhere down the hall, a latch clicked and Rainbow’s words died in her throat. Twilight’s ears perked as the distant door creaked open.

In the neighboring cell, Rainbow’s hooves scrambled forward. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Twilight replied, peeking through the bars as far as she could. A white horn appeared from the hallway to the right, and she stepped back away from the bars. “It’s the Day-Mare; she’s coming back.”

Quickly striding into view, The Day-Mare stopped abreast of Twilight’s cell. Inexplicably, the Night-Mare was nowhere to be seen.

For a few moments she stood silently, glancing back and forth between Twilight and Rainbow. Even in the dim green light, her pearlescent coat was practically glowing, somehow brightening the whole hall. Her expression was stoic, but her eyes seemed to betray concern or uncertainty.

Finally her gaze settled on Twilight, and she spoke. “Spæc micel habbán ic wid min sweóstor.” she said, “Gieta ræcán to fríd wé oncúnnan. Und to thu cúman ic, sécan triéwd.”

Twilight’s heart quickened as her brain jumped from possibility to possibility, each more frightening than the last. “I’m sorry,” she said, praying the words were not her death sentence. “I can’t understand you.” For good measure, she shrugged apologetically and tried to act as meek as possible.

The Day-Mare shook her head and sighed. “Ongód thés. Sumóther weg móste do wé.” She motioned with her hoof, seeming to beckon Twilight toward her. 

Caught by indecision, Twilight hesitated and quickly weighed the options in her head. On the one hoof, she knew the history of the two princesses, and didn’t feel she could trust them to be anything but brutal despots, bending all to their will in blind pursuit of control via Harmony. Agreeing to whatever the Day-Mare wanted might be the last decision of her life.

On the other, resisting thus far had been fruitless, and she could see no possible way to escape unless the alicorns allowed it. Twilight knew she was less than nothing in the face of such awesome power, yet for some reason the Day-Mare was asking for cooperation instead of using compulsion. Perhaps this was a trick, but she could think of no reason to expect one.

Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she stepped forward. The few steps from the center of the cell to the bars seemed interminably long, but in a moment she was standing within touching distance of the Day-Mare.

“Uh, Twilight? What’s happening?” Rainbow’s voice was tinged with apprehension.

Twilight didn’t answer. The Day-Mare had locked eyes with her. Large, bright eyes with brilliant purple irises only a few shades lighter than her own. Eyes filled with wisdom and power, but also kindness like she’d never seen. 

“Uncúdfelung mæg be thés,” the Day-Mare said softly. She lowered her head, horn beginning to glow softly at the point. “Ure gémynd scearu, swá cnawan thóht mæg wé.”

Inexplicably, almost as if she were in a trance, Twilight felt herself agreeing with the foreign words. Somewhere far away she could hear Rainbow calling, insisting she answer, but she ignored the voice. This was, somehow, far more important. Her head tilted gently forward, and her eyes half-closed, relaxing as she leaned toward the Day-Mare until their horns touched. 

Twilight’s mind erupted violently in a surge of sensations; color, sound, smell. Images flashed at her. Places, words, faces, feelings. Not her own, another’s. Too fast, too much. She tried to scream, but it only came out muffled and thin. Different and alien, the torrent of consciousness threatened to drown her.

Almost immediately, she felt a presence take hold. It was strong, a steady rock in the river of thoughts, and Twilight clung to it like a foal to her mother. It began guiding her, wading through the noise. With each subtle pull or push, the whirling thoughts and feelings became softer and clearer.

She could perceive the memories now, if that’s what they were. Standing in green fields with blue skies, white clouds drifting lazily overhead. Catching herself in a mirror, haggard and bloody, twigs in her purple hair. A deep blue alicorn laughing at her then galloping away, her own white hooves pursuing playfully. Journal pages of uneven words, damp and splotchy.

Her brain reeled again, and the presence nearby took firmer hold of her. She couldn’t hear a voice, but it felt as if…

Words swirled in her head, some foreign, some familiar. Maybe she could learn some of them? She reached, trying to remember what it was like to speak, to hear and understand. 

“W-why?” she asked. Or perhaps she thought it; she couldn’t hear herself speak.

“Help… see… know…”

“See… what? Know?”

More memories. Fields rushing past windows, patchwork and technicolor. Love, hope. Smaller ponies, smiling up at her. Discord. Darkness pushing back the light. Pink mane and a concerned smile. A kaleidoscope of chaos. Crystal branches and gem leaves. Pain and cold. A bag of black seeds. Empty insides where her heart should be. Frozen in time, waiting for it all to end.

The presence shifted again, and she saw her kingdom. Saw it rise, saw it fall, felt the horror as all sanity crumbled below her hooves. Her will faltered, unable to cope with the piecemeal dismemberment of all she loved. She pulled away in terror, straining against the distant blackness, for release— 

Twilight saw the stone floor flying up to meet her a split second before she smashed into it. Her mind reeled as physical sensation flooded back into consciousness. She lay prone for several moments trying to readjust, then shook her head and forced her eyes to see straight again.

Looking up, she saw the Day-Mare sitting slumped but awake against the bars of Applejack’s cell. One foreleg twitched and her white chest heaved in great gasping breaths.

Gradually a voice faded in from somewhere nearby, calling her name “—ilight, are you okay? Say something!”

“...Ugh.” Twilight tapped a hoof against her head, trying to clear the fog. “I’m okay… I think.”

“What happened?” Rainbow’s voice seemed on the verge of cracking from anxiety. 

“I’m not sure.” Sitting up, Twilight refocused her eyes manually again, and saw the Day-Mare now staring at her intently. “I think Celestia tried to read my mind.”

“...Who?” 

“Celestia.” She pointed, again momentarily forgetting Rainbow couldn’t see. “She touched my horn and—” Twilight’s jaw dropped, brain finally catching up to what her mouth was saying.

From across the hall the alicorn princess smiled. “A pleasure it is to meet thee, Twilight Sparkle,” she said, still a little breathless. “I perceive there is much that we must speak about.” 

> Chapter 9
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I don’t understand; she should’a been back by now.”

Apple Bloom had already cleaned up after her cooking attempts, more than a little proud she’d managed to avoid burning anything this time. Now she was pacing back and forth across the kitchen impatiently. Her trademark pink mane-ribbon was loose and lopsided without her sister to tidy it up. Applejack’s breakfast plate was still untouched, and Zecora’s bundle of herbs lay unused on the nearby counter-top.

“Did Zecora say how long Applejack might be?” Spike asked. The green and purple baby dragon had almost finished his own hearty third helping of pancakes with maple syrup and powdered gemstones.

“No,” Apple Bloom grumbled, “just that she had another errand and would be back soon.”

“She probably got held up, then.”

“But it’s been hours!” Already it was far past their normal start time; this delay meant she wouldn’t be done in time to play before bed. “I don’t know how to do the wrap for Darla’s leg, an’ we got ‘bout a hundred trees that need trimmin’, among other things. You an’ I won’t be able to do all that by ourselves.”

With a final massive bite, Spike cleared his plate. “Well, we could try and get started at least,” he mumbled over the mouthful of pancakes. Apparently finished with breakfast, he quickly washed and put away the dish, then returned to the table.

After a brief moment, he pointed at Applejack’s plate. “Do you think she’s gonna want that?”

“Just put a towel over it, so it stays warm.”

“But it’s already cold. She hates cold pancakes.”

Apple Bloom rolled her eyes. “Go ‘head I guess. Probably be lunchtime before we see her again, at this rate.”

Foregoing any toppings, Spike grabbed one of the cooled pancakes and began eating it plain. “So what should we do?” he asked between bites.

“I dunno,” Apple Bloom said, sitting on her haunches and absently fiddling with the mane-ribbon. Her big sister was one of the most dependable and responsible ponies she knew, and being gone for so long without explanation was unusual. “Truthfully, I’m mighty worried.“

“Do you think we should go looking for her?” Spike asked, taking another cold pancake.

“Maybe, but where would we start? She could be anywhere.”

Spike shrugged. “Could ask Zecora; she’s the last one we know AJ talked to.”

“Well, maybe if we leave now we can catch her before she goes mushroom huntin’ or the like,” Apple Bloom agreed. She pondered for a moment, and her hooves finally got the ribbon tied into a decent bow. “I s'pose the trees can wait a bit longer to get trimmed… ain’t like they’re goin’ anyplace.”

“And you know I’m always up for a break from farmwork,” Spike said, hopping off his chair and clearing Applejack’s dish as he swiped the last pancake.

Apple Bloom giggled. “Yeah, I know,” she said. Spike was a hard worker when properly motivated, but sported a lazy streak a mile wide if any chance appeared. “Why don’t you finish tidyin’ up? I’ll make sure the barn’s locked before we go.”

“Can do!”





On most days Zecora and Fluttershy’s cabin was a 20-minute trot from the Apple family farm as the crow flies. Apple Bloom often traveled straight route with Applejack, but that meant cutting across a large swath of the dark, predator-infested Everfree forest, something she wasn’t keen on doing without an adult.

Instead, Apple Bloom and Spike opted to go the long way around, looping down to the border of the farm property near Ponyville then backtracking along the edge of the woods. It added nearly an hour to their trip, but they both agreed it was better than being possibly attacked by timberwolves or hydras. 

Upon arriving at the cottage, they could see the windows were all wide open. Curtains were pulled back, illuminating the interior with bright sunlight. From somewhere inside a breathy voice was singing brightly.

“Sounds like Fluttershy’s in a good mood,” Spike observed as they walked up the front steps onto the porch.

“Yeah, my sister says she hates the dark.” Apple Bloom raised a hoof and tapped on the door. “I reckon she’s enjoyin’ all the sun we’re gettin’ finally.”

Almost immediately the singing cut off. A moment later, hoofsteps delicately approached from inside. “Um… who is it?” a quiet voice called.

Spike chuckled softly and pointed toward the corner of a nearby window. Leaning to the side slightly and craning her neck, Apple Bloom could see a single butter-yellow ear and pink mane barely visible above the windowsill.

“Fluttershy!” Apple Bloom called loudly. The ear flattened away out of sight and Spike held back another laugh. “It’s us, Apple Bloom an’ Spike!”

“Oh!” The hoofsteps came to the door, and a latch unlocked. Fluttershy peeked out quickly before opening the door fully. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting visitors,” she said, smiling down at them. “Would you like to come in?”

“Maybe just for a minute, we don’t want to intrude,” Apple Bloom said. She stepped inside, followed by Spike. “We’re just lookin’ for my sister; have you seen her ‘round here?”

Fluttershy’s smile faded as she closed the door behind them. “She’s… not back yet?”

“We haven’t seen her since before the sun came up,” Spike said. He shrugged. “Although technically I haven’t seen her at all because I was still asleep.”

“AJ had Zecora tell us she was goin’ on an errand,” Apple Bloom continued, “but she ain’t never been gone this long without tellin’ me where she’ll be or when she’ll be back.”

“Oh my, that’s not good.” Fluttershy sidestepped nervously. “I knew she shouldn’t have gone alone!”

“Gone alone?” Apple Bloom cocked her head to the side, eyebrow raised. “Where’d she go?”

“Well, um… I’m not sure I should say…” 

“Why not?” Spike pressed.

“Because… um… well…”

“Please, Fluttershy? I’m really, really worried ‘bout her.” Apple Bloom widened her eyes, pouted her lips slightly, and put on the cutest, most pleading face she could manage. Applejack hated when she did this, but Fluttershy’s resolve was weakening and Apple Bloom knew she would be completely unable to resist.

Besides, she actually was worried about Applejack, so in her opinion the ends justified the means.

Fluttershy managed to hold Apple Bloom’s gaze for less than a second before cracking. She winced almost as if in pain. “Well, I suppose it couldn’t hurt… I’ll tell you where she went, but you have to promise not to follow her, okay?"

Spike and Apple Bloom both nodded eagerly.

“Okay...” Fluttershy took a deep breath. “Zecora told me that Applejack went into the Everfree Forest this morning.”

“The forest? Why?” Worry crept into Apple Bloom’s stomach. Every time Applejack ventured into the Everfree alone, she left detailed instructions so a search party could find her in case something went wrong or she didn’t come back on time.

“She went to follow Twilight Sparkle, I guess. When she came over to get the herbs—”

“Wait—” Spike waved a paw to to cut off Fluttershy. “Twilight’s back? Why? When did she get here?”

“She arrived yesterday.” Fluttershy shivered as if recalling something unpleasant. “I don’t know exactly why she’s back, but something strange and scary is happening at the old castle, and Applejack thinks Twilight knows what it is.”

The mention of “strange and scary” in the context of the old Everfree castle did nothing to ease Apple Bloom’s apprehension. “Why would she go without tellin’ me?”

Fluttershy shook her head. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t know.”

Apple Bloom’s face contorted in concentration as she tried to think of what might be so important that her big sister would forget to check in. It must have been something that couldn’t wait, or maybe she thought it wouldn’t take too long. But if she hadn’t planned on being gone so long, then why was she still out there?

“Maybe somepony should go looking for her,” Spike suggested. “AJ can usually take care of herself, but if she’s been gone this long then maybe something happened.”

“Perhaps…” Fluttershy hedged, avoiding eye contact. “Normally I’d ask Zecora since she’s so familiar with the forest, but she left to go somewhere too, and probably won’t be back for a while.”

“Then we should go!” Apple Bloom exclaimed, concern for her sister overriding any caution. “You’re an adult, Fluttershy, you can go with us.”

Fluttershy quailed. “Oh no, I couldn’t. I mean, I know a bit about the forest, but the animals are too dangerous, and I can’t understand them like the ones here. Besides, a lot of them—” she gulped. “— eat meat.”

“I know, but that’s all the more reason we need to find her!” Apple Bloom stomped a hoof for emphasis. “She could be tangled in a ginormous spider web, or tree’d-up by a pack of timberwolves, or trapped in an Ursa cave—”

“I know, I know!” Fluttershy’s ears flattened against her head. She seemed to be struggling not to flee the room. “I want to find her as much as you do! It’s just… I mean... I can’t…” She sat back on her haunches and covered her face with her forehooves, gasping for breath.

Apple Bloom and Spike glanced at each other in surprise at Fluttershy’s unexpected outburst. Lost for words, Spike shuffled restlessly, and Apple Bloom took a sudden interest in the surrounding furniture as they waited for Fluttershy to regain her composure. 

For a few minutes the room was filled only with the sound of shaky breathing, but gradually Fluttershy seemed to calm down. She sniffled and rubbed her nose. “I’m so sorry, I got a little overwhelmed.”

“That’s okay, Fluttershy,” Apple Bloom assured, feeling more than a small twinge of guilt. She hadn’t realized how hard she’d been pushing until it was too late. “I’m sorry, I’m just really worried about AJ, and I feel like we gotta do somethin’ in case she’s—”

A loud crack split the air, making all three of them jump. 

“Whoa, what was that!?” Spike exclaimed, glancing around as if he might find the source of the sound before the echo faded.

“Beats me,” Apple Bloom replied. “T’wern’t thunder… Sounded more like when Rainbow Dash does her ‘sonic rainboom’ thing.”

Fluttershy’s ears were folded back against the sharp noise, but perked up hopefully. “Oh, I hope that means she’s back in town; I’ve been worried about her.”

“Well, that should be easy enough to see,” Spike said, jogging over to one of the windows facing Ponyville. “If that was her then there should be a rainbow over...” He trailed off as he leaned over the sill and looked to the sky.

“Spike?” Apple Bloom had started walking toward the window but stopped short when she saw the spines on the dragon’s back bristling. “What’s wrong?”

“Uh… You may want to see for yourself.”

The two ponies glanced at each other before following Spike to the window. Apple Bloom put her hooves on the sill to get a better view.

There was no rainbow-tinted shockwave washing overhead like she had expected, and Rainbow Dash was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was another pony in the distant sky: A huge, midnight-blue pegasus, wearing battle armor and surrounded by pulsing swirls of dark, glowing magic. Magic that was slowly growing like a balloon to fill the sky above Ponyville.

Apple Bloom’s head tilted. Something wasn’t right; pegasi couldn’t use magic like that. Moreover, there was an aura about the mare that reminded her of something. 

“Oh no, it’s her!”

She glanced back to see Fluttershy backing away from the window, eyes wide with fear.

“What?” Spike asked, watching Fluttershy with concern. “Do you know her?”

“No!” Fluttershy squeaked, still staring outside. “I… I mean not personally, and I might be wrong…. But if she is, then that would mean…. Oh Discord, I hope I’m wrong!”

“Who?” Apple Bloom prompted. She was trying to split her attention between Fluttershy and the growing cloud of dark magic. A tickle at the back of her mind kept telling her she already knew the answer, but couldn’t quite put a hoof on it. “Who is she?”

Fluttershy dropped to the floor and hid her face with her forelegs. “The N-Night-Mare!” she half-wailed, half-whispered.

The words triggered Apple-Bloom’s memories. All the stories and legends flooded into her consciousness, and she finally saw the horn on the pony’s forehead, which made her an alicorn just like the ancient princesses. Apple Bloom had asked Applejack for a bedtime story about the Sky-Mares only a few days before, and now one of the villains from the story was suddenly here, ready to wreak Discord-knows-what kinds of havoc on Ponyville.

The realization took a few moments to sink in, but her mind quickly caught up to the implications. “Great flyin’ haybales! We gotta warn everypony!” She turned and bounded toward the door of the cabin.

“Wait!” Spike shouted, nearly tripping as he tried to follow. “We don’t know wha—”

“CITIZENS OF PONYVILLE!”

A booming voice hit the cottage like a shockwave, rattling the dishes in the cupboards. Apple Bloom skidded to a halt and clamped her hooves over her ears, pain coursing through her skull.

“HEARKEN TO THE SKIES! THY TRUE PRINCESSES HATH RETURNED, TO FREE THEE FROM THE CALAMITIES OF CHAOS!”

As the echoes of the last word began to fade, a low rumble filled the air. It wasn’t in the ground like an earthquake or stampede, but a pulsing vibration almost below what she could hear. Her legs and hooves began to tingle and pulse as the rumble grew in power.

The rumble reached a peak and something in the air popped, more of a feel than a noise. A subtle wind seemed to rush over her and the pressure in her head disappeared instantly, along with the rumbling.

Her legs were still on pins and needles, and she instinctively stomped a few times, trying to shake the feeling. She glanced behind to see Fluttershy preening her wings furiously.

“You girls felt that, right?” Spike asked, twitching involuntarily. 

“If’in you mean the thousand lil’ parasprites bitin’ my hooves, I’ll say I did!” Apple Bloom growled in annoyance, although the sensation was already fading. “Whaddya reckon’ it was?”

“I think it’s alicorn magic,” Fluttershy replied, flapping her wings a few times. “I’ve felt it before, but never that strong.”

The last of the tingling dissipated, and Apple Bloom walked back toward Spike. “If it was magic, what did it do?”

Spike pointed out the window. “That.”

Apple Bloom put her hooves on the sill again, followed Spike’s pointing claw with her gaze, and gasped.

On any given day Ponyville was a fairly stable place to live; being near the Everfree forest counteracted a good portion of the chaos magic that covered the rest of Discordia. Still, colors and textures were always on the move, plants and objects were in constant flux, and the occasional floating or sentient building wasn’t uncommon. Even the sky itself was a technicolor mish-mash with weather patterns ranging from aggressively dangerous to fun-loving and silly. 

 But at this moment, the town looked unnervingly normal, or at least as normal as Apple Bloom could imagine it being. The main thing that tipped her off was the colors; instead of popping and fading from one shade and pattern to the next, they were all static. The grasses and trees were the same green as the Everfree, and a bubble-like dome of sky above the town was simple, pale blue, with a few benign white clouds drifting lazily in from the forest. 

On the ground, ponies were beginning to wander out of buildings, looking around in bewilderment. Apple Bloom could hear the rising din of confused, questioning voices even at a distance. From above, the Night-Mare alighted on the roof of a tall building. 

“Be not afraid, little ponies!”

The booming voice echoed over town again, slightly lower but still making Apple Bloom’s head ache. She briefly wondered with annoyance whether the Night-Mare had any knowledge of voice levels below “ear-splitting.” 

“We come not to enslave nor conquer,” the Night-Mare continued, “only to cleanse the blight of Chaos from thy turbulent world, and bring again the joys of Harmony! Heed our words, and thy days shall be blessed!”

“Hmph, a likely story,” Spike grumbled with a scowl. Like Apple Bloom, he too had grown up on legends and bedtimes stories about Discord defeating the tyrannical Sky-Mares.

“She keeps sayin’ ‘we’ like there’s two of them,” Apple Bloom mused, “but far as I can see she’s alone. Where d’ya reckon the other one is?”

“P-probably at the old castle….” Fluttershy spoke from somewhere behind one of the sofas. “That’s where their statues are… or, were….”

In the distance, the Night-Mare lit down and disappeared behind the rooftops. Her booming voice came again, now muffled and unclear from the buildings. The growing crowd of ponies was filtering toward the center of town, and Apple Bloom could only guess that she had landed to greet them.

Spike turned away from the window and approached Fluttershy’s hiding place. “What do you mean ‘the statues’? Couldn’t this just be some kind of prank from Pinkie or somepony?”

“No, Pinkie Pie would never do something this mean,” Fluttershy said with the barest hint of confidence in her tremulous voice. “Besides, she’s an earth pony, and no unicorn in town has magic that powerful.”

Apple Bloom stepped away from the window as well, now that the Night-Mare was no longer visible or audible. She followed Spike to the sofa and saw Fluttershy huddled between a few propped cushions. It reminded Apple Bloom of the forts she sometimes made when playing Cowponies and Buffalos with the other fillies and colts.

“Well, maybe it’s Discord?” she said, reflexively pushing one of the cushions into a better-balanced position. “He loves pranks and random stuff like that.”

Again Fluttershy shook her head in the negative. “No, it can’t be. Chaos magic doesn’t work in the Everfree Forest, and I know what we saw in that old castle!”

“So what did you see?” Spike asked.

If it were possible, Fluttershy seemed to slump even deeper into her impromptu safe space. “The statue…” she whispered. “It came to life!”

BANG!

The front door of the cottage flew open and slammed into the wall. Apple Bloom jumped, then yelped as a sofa cushion blindsided her. White cotton stuffing exploded into the air. Fluttershy shrieked. Apple Bloom’s vision was a jumble of light and dark, interspersed with flashes of yellow-feathered wings beating furiously. 

The chaos subsided a moment later, and Apple Bloom found herself on her back, staring at the ceiling. Pushing a ruptured cushion off her stomach, she twisted and and looked around for the cause of the commotion.

“Fluttershy, come quick, I have news to tell! I have been to the Forest, where things are not well!”

“Zecora?” Apple Bloom jumped to her hooves and bounded up onto the back of the sofa. “What in tarnation is goin’ on?”

“Yeah, you scared the flames right out of me!” Spike added indignantly, patting embers off a smoldering throw-pillow.

The zebra in the doorway did a double-take. “Apple Bloom? And Spike too? I did not expect to be meeting you!”

“We came to check if you knew where Applejack was,” Apple Bloom replied. “She ain’t been home since you dropped the herbs off this mornin’ an’ we been mighty worried ‘bout her.”

Zecora nodded. “For Applejack’s safety there is reason to worry; it is why I have come in such a hurry.”

Apple Bloom noticed Zecora was gasping raggedly through her mouth, flanks heaving and covered in sweat. It was the first time she’d seen the impossibly-fit zebra even close to out-of-breath. Combining that with Zecora’s pronouncement that AJ was in danger, Apple Bloom had to tighten her gut against the fresh surge of twisting anxiety that threatened to crush her heart. “What do you mean? Why is she in danger?”

“The ‘what’ I will tell you, though I know less the ‘why’...” Zecora glanced around the room, still breathing heavily. “...but first, where is Fluttershy?”

Spike cleared his throat and jabbed a claw toward the ceiling. Apple Bloom and Zecora glanced upward, eyes searching.

It didn’t take long to see. Fluttershy was wedged into a corner between two adjoining rafters, bracing herself against a hanging light fixture. White cotton stuffing clung to her coat and wings like downy feathers.

She smiled meekly. “Um, I’m sorry…. I’m afraid I’m a bit jumpy.”

With a humorless chuckle, Zecora motioned for Fluttershy to come down. “To be scared right now shows you have sense; that alicorn’s words are just a pretense.”

“Whadd’ya mean?” Apple Bloom asked. “I figure she’s up to no good, but what else do you know?”

“In the forest seeking mushrooms, I was out today,” Zecora replied, “and came across Applejack while on my way. Rainbow Dash and she were sitting by a brook, but when I thought to speak, the ground itself shook!” She reared back and stomped both hooves for emphasis.

“What was it?” Spike asked. “The Night-Mare?”

Zecora nodded. “From the sky she came with a powerful spell. If I were closer, I would be caught as well. The Day-Mare too, for she has awaken; Twilight, Applejack, and Rainbow Dash she has taken.”

“So the Day-Mare has my sister?” In spite of her attempts to stay calm, Apple Bloom began gasping for breath. Knowing the legendary evil princesses of ancient legend were alive and well in her hometown was bad enough; confirmation that Applejack was their prisoner was almost more than the filly could bear. Visions of dark cells and cold-blooded torture came unbidden to her thoughts. Apple Bloom was young, but she knew enough of the evils that existed in their world and right now her mind was imagining every single one descending on her older sister.

“We— we gotta do something!” she stammered, trying to speak, but words failed her as panic set in. She looked around at the others, gasping. Why were they looking at her so funny? Why weren’t they helping? Why— 

Something touched her and she jumped. 

“Shhh... it’s okay,” a gentle voice whispered in her ear. 

Delicate hooves pulled her close. She tried to struggle, but the legs around her simply accommodated her without letting go. A pair of wings gently cradled her and soft feathers stroked her mane. “Just breathe, Apple Bloom, it’s okay. Just… breathe….”

The soothing voice reminded Apple Bloom that she was hyperventilating. She obediently forced herself to take a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. Her head began to clear, and she glanced up to see kind blue-green eyes smiling down at her. Fluttershy might be the most timid mare in Ponyville, but she was also the first to offer comfort even in the worst of circumstances.

A little embarrassed, Apple Bloom rubbed at the damp corners of her eyes. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” she protested, although the others didn’t look convinced. 

Fluttershy squeezed gently. “It’s okay to be scared for your sister, Apple Bloom; I’m worried too.” She glanced at Zecora. “What should we do?”

“A rescue mission we could mount,” Zecora said with a shrug, “but for our success I have doubts.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Spike grumbled. “Discord himself is probably the only one that could go paw-to-hoof with the Sky-Mares.”

Apple Bloom perked up. “Why don’t we ask him then? A fast pegasus could fly a letter there lickety-split!”

“No!” Fluttershy’s voice grew suddenly stern. “We are NOT asking Discord for help!”

Stunned silence fell over the room. Apple Bloom had never heard Fluttershy so assertive before, and honestly it scared her a little. At the same time, she was confused; Discord was their emperor, leader, protector. He was the one who had saved the world from the Sky-Mares before. Why wouldn’t they ask for his help?

Fluttershy must have seen the confusion on Apple Bloom’s face. She sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s just that Discord did something very bad, and I don’t know if I can forgive that.”

“But why? What’d he do?” In Apple Bloom’s eyes, the emperor could do no wrong, even if her sister sometimes complained about the blessings he sent. 

“Do you remember when Twilight Sparkle was in town a while ago?”

Apple Bloom nodded.

“Well…” Fluttershy paused, as if trying to find the best words. “She might have seemed like a nice pony, but Discord had sent her to break up the friendship between Zecora and I, as well as other ponies like your sister, and Rarity.”

“But what’s wrong with that?” Apple Bloom’s face scrunched in confusion. “Friends break up all the time, it’s just how chaos works.”

“No Apple Bloom, there’s more to friendship than just being acquaintances or just playing together,” Fluttershy explained. “It’s like… It’s more like being sisters, and Discord and Twilight tried to take that away from us.”

Apple Bloom tried to wrap her brain around what Fluttershy was saying. “But… that would be like playin’ with the same ponies everyday. Doesn’t it get boring?”

“Not with the right friends,” Fluttershy explained patiently. “A good friend can be like a brother or a sister, not just somepony you play with sometimes.”

After pondering for a moment, Apple Bloom gave a sight nod. “I s’pose I can see that…”

Spike cleared his throat. “Not that this isn’t fascinating, but we’ve still got two evil alicorns on the loose and three captured ponies.” He gestured out the window, and as if to punctuate his words the Night-Mare’s distantly muffled voice rolled over the rooftops of Ponyville again. “Any ideas?”

The group fell silent for a moment. Fluttershy looked off into the distance, eyes searching some unseen thoughts. Zecora scraped a hoof and bit her lip impatiently; she’d already said her piece and didn’t care to repeat it. Spike simply folded his arms and waited; Apple Bloom knew the little dragon preferred to follow or provide a voice of reason; he’d decided long ago he was not a leader.

Despite Fluttershy’s comforting embrace, Apple Bloom’s insides still churned at the thought of her sister, imprisoned and at the mercy of the cruel Day-Mare. She knew none of the ponies here were even remotely strong enough to take on the alicorn princesses. She understood there was no way to even guess where Applejack might be. But even then, she couldn’t just sit back and do nothing.

Apple Bloom raised a hoof. “I vote rescue mission,” she said quietly.

Zecora nodded quickly. “With your idea I agree,” she confirmed, “we must act quickly to set our friends free.”

“But we can’t just go galloping into the Everfree!” Fluttershy protested. “There’s terrible creatures in there, and who knows what the Day-Mare is capable of?”

“Another plan you have to present? If it is better I will gladly consent.” Zecora was cordial, but her words carried a slight hint of sarcasm.

“Well…” Fluttershy’s eyes dropped to the floor. “...We could… try and talk to them.”

Spike’s jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious. They’re ancient evil dictators, you can’t reason with that!”

“That’s what the stories say,” Fluttershy agreed, “but what if the stories are wrong? Maybe they’re…” she gulped nervously. “... maybe they’re not all that bad?”

“And who’s going to do the talking?” Spike pressed. “You can’t tell me you’d be able to face that kind of fear.

“I would, to save my friends.”

Fluttershy’s voice quavered as she spoke, but Apple Bloom could hear the conviction beneath the terror. It seemed genuine enough, but unfortunately did little to convince her that talking their way through the issue was a good idea.

She gathered her own courage and stepped away from the warm, comforting embrace. “That’s all well and fine Fluttershy, but talk’s just talk.” Her left foreleg was trembling and she felt like she was about to lose her breakfast, but channelled her fear into confidence as best she could. “I’m goin’ to find my sister. The rest of you can do whatever you want.”

She stepped forward as if to head to the door, but paused as Zecora moved in front of her. She gulped and tried to look firm. “You ain’t stopping me, Zecora,” she said. “I’m goin’, and that’s that.”

Zecora looked her up and down for a moment before speaking. “In the Everfree Forest you should not go alone…” she smiled. “And I may have a clue where the Day-Mare has flown.”

Relief washed over Apple Bloom, and she hugged the zebra’s leg. “Thank you!” she exclaimed, then glanced over her shoulder. “You comin’ Spike?”

“Suicide mission to save a beloved sister from an evil all-powerful alicorn princess?” The dragon shrugged theatrically, but seemed enthusiastic about taking decisive action. “Why not? Count me in.”

As Spike moved toward Apple Bloom and Zecora, Fluttershy raised a hoof. “Wait!” she called plaintively, eyes filling with fear.

They paused, all staring at her. She glanced down, mouth working silently, then spoke in a voice just below a whisper. “W-w-what if you don’t come back?”

Apple Bloom didn’t have an answer, and she looked away awkwardly. Spike bit a claw, silent as well. The thought of failure was on both their minds, but neither of them dared to voice it. Somehow, saying it would make it a reality, and Apple Bloom didn’t think she could face the possibility right now.

Zecora stepped forward. Brushing past Apple Bloom and Spike, she wrapped Fluttershy in a tight hug. After a moment, Fluttershy returned the gesture and rested her head on Zecora’s striped shoulder, tears brimming in her eyes. They sat in silence, then Zecora whispered something that Apple Bloom could not hear. Fluttershy nodded silently and released the hug, blinking furiously to prevent tears from falling.

Zecora returned to the entryway and wordlessly nudged Apple Bloom and Spike to the door. Without another word, they turned and stepped outside, down the steps, and up to the very edge of the forest.

As they reached the treeline, Zecora stopped and spoke. “We will go now, but stay close to me; to separate is to die in the great Everfree.” The words were like the ones that Applejack spoke so often, and Apple Bloom nodded; she’d have no trouble following the instruction.

With that, Zecora stepped forward and practically disappeared into the underbrush. Spike followed, his green scales vanishing as he blended into the leaves.

Apple Bloom glanced back to the cottage; Fluttershy was still visible through the open door, sitting where they’d left her. From a distance it was hard to tell, but it looked like she was sobbing, her shoulders heaving up and down. It was almost enough to convince anypony that charging headlong into danger might not be the best option.

Steeling her fear, she shook her head to banish the feeling and followed Zecora and Spike into the shadowy dark of the forest. 





“So it is that you have no need to fret, my little ponies,” the Night-Mare continued, basking in the undivided attention of all Ponyville, “and in truth you should rejoice, for the end of Chaos draws nigh! Gone are the days thy bellies ache as sustenance changes to stone, or thy homes collapse into soap bubbles!” 

She smiled to herself at the latter, having seen it happen only an hour previous as she watched the town from a distance. Somewhere in the crowd, a unicorn with two foals dropped to her knees, sobbing, and the Night-Mare made a mental note to oversee construction of a new house for the pathetic little family. But first, there was the remainder of her speech to finish.

“For it shall come to pass, that the draconequus shall be defeated! His castle shall turn to ash, and his Agents of Chaos will rend their garments in mourning! On the wings of Harmony shall our armies go, consuming the forces of disorder in their wake! Let us lead you! Hearken to our words, and we SHALL NOT FAIL THEE!”

Cheers erupted from a few portions of the crowd, and the Night-Mare mused on how easily most of them were convinced. There were a fair number of faces that seemed dubious and a scattered few looked downright hostile, but that was to be expected when they’d spent their whole lives knowing nothing but Chaos. They’d learn the consequences of defying her, if it came to that.

She thought back briefly to the whipping she’d given that insolent earth pony, and satisfaction temporarily salved the dull ache in her bruised jaw as she remembered the screaming. It was the first whipping she’d doled out in over a thousand years, and by the heavens it felt good. Of course, such punishments would necessarily be rare to avoid drawing the ire of her subjects, but dissenters would be inevitable regardless and she relished the thought of dealing with them in like fashion.

At the moment, she basked in the admiring gaze of her subjects, for indeed they loved her. She was their savior, their hope for a better future, and she would not disappoint them. Yes, she would be feared, but she would also be loved, and both were better than either alone. She would be loved as her sister could only dream of being, would finally be the object of every accolade, every prayer, every adoring gaze, bended knee, and grateful smile that had been denied her.

She would be their goddess this time, and finally after all these centuries, she would be happy.

Pride and joy welling in her chest, she beamed and opened her mouth continue speaking, then paused as an unexpected movement caught her eye.

To her left, somepony was pushing through the densely packed crowd, a yellow pegasus with a pink mane. The mare wasn’t simply trying to get a better view, either; she was working her way to the very front, where she stepped past the ponies keeping a respectable distance.

When she stopped just past the line of the crowd, the pegasus looked up, eyes wide with fear. Her wings were trembling, her breathing erratic. Her face was streaked and damp, as if she had been crying recently. 

The Night-Mare cocked her head to the side curiously. Something seemed familiar and she wondered if she’d met this particular mare before, either in dreams or in the flesh. 

“Um… H-hello,” the pegasus stammered.

“Greetings little pony,” the Night-Mare replied, the power of her voice causing the pegasus to wince and cower satisfyingly. “Tell us, what is thy name? What dost thou seek?”

“M-my name is Fluttershy,” the pegasus replied shakily, “and I need to talk to you about my friends.”

> Chapter 10
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I don’t understand. Is it a name? A title? What?”

“It is… both?” The Day-Mare paced a few steps. “We have not the words to say.”

Twilight groaned and sank to her stomach, head between her hooves. “I don’t know if I have the words anymore, either.” She had subconsciously hooked on the name “Celestia” for the Day-Mare, but apparently that hadn’t been entirely accurate, not to mention the few dozen words that no longer meant what they were supposed to.

Her thoughts over the past several minutes were a blur at best; if regular conversation was like a glass of water, the mind-meld had been akin to being hit by a tidal wave. On the one hoof, she was glad they could understand each other, but the cost had been the clarity of her thoughts and some of her knowledge.

The Day-Mare seemed to sense her struggle. “Verily, we are contrite,” she said, picking over her words as if she were reading them from a page. “Much we did give thee, nigh unto excess. We shall understand if thou are filled with confusion.”

“At the moment, I’d settle for just what to call you,” Twilight replied.

With a sigh the Day-Mare looked down. Her eyes searched the empty space between her hooves for a few moments. 

“Thou mayest call us Celestia,” she said finally. “‘Tis well as anything in thy tongue.”

Twilight nodded, but before she could reply Rainbow interjected from the neighboring cell. “Okay, now that we’ve got that figured out, how about letting us go?”

Celestia shook her head and stepped slightly to the side. “Remember thou didst deign to remain with thy companions, Rainbow Dash; in our own time enacted thy release may be, predicated upon our judgement.”

“But we didn’t do anything wrong,” Twilight protested. “The Tree is fine, we’ll leave and never come near it again, I promise.”

Turning back to Twilight, Celestia’s eyes narrowed. “Mistake not civility for trust, Twilight Sparkle. Thou art a Child of Discord, and we hath seen thy mind is keen to render warning unto him. Counsel us not on thy innocence when thou would cast thy lot so willingly with Disharmony.”

The towering alicorn paced slowly before the cell. “Verily, thy world is strange to us,” she mused. “The Lord of Chaos himself reigns in power over the land, and yet all is not fallen to ruin. How this came to pass we know not, but of a surety we shall discover it.”

“It ‘came to pass’ because Discord doesn’t rule us like a dictator,” Twilight replied without thinking. “Chaos is the only way—” she cut herself off, instantly regretting the conditioned response; after seeing the Night-Mare’s vicious punishments she could only imagine the kind of terrible wrath Celestia might rain down if displeased.

Cold silence fell over the cellblock as Celestia stopped pacing. She stared down at Twilight intently. “Test not our patience with such things,” she said. “We do not favor judgements of suffering as our sister does, but the preaching of sedition shall not be winked at. Rather, ponder on those thoughts we have given thee; perhaps thou shalt find conviction in the truth of things past.”

Twilight breathed a sigh of relief. Still, she couldn’t help prying a little further. “Not to be rude or anything,” she asked cautiously, “but how do I know you haven’t just filled my head with untreowth—” She shook her head and thought for a moment to find the right word. “— lies?”

Celestia didn’t break her gaze, but knelt in front of the cell, bringing her head level to Twilight’s. She was silent for several moments, head cocked slightly to the side. Her piercing eyes seemed to search Twilight’s own, and Twilight had to consciously resist the urge to look away.

After a moment the intent gaze softened. “Thy falsehoods would become truth, were we to take thy choice in the matter. And know this, Twilight Sparkle: We shall never lie to thee, for Triéwenes, Honesty, is an element of Harmony. Well be it for thee to believe on that.”

The spell around her deadened much of the ambient magic, but through her horn Twilight felt a subtle tingle. The faint magic felt warm, comforting, and distinctly familiar.

Celestia blinked in surprise and glanced at some point that seemed to be outside the dungeon, then smiled. As far as Twilight could tell, it was a genuine smile, with no malice or deceit hidden behind it. “Seo winescípe tréo!” she exclaimed quietly. 

“The Tree of Harmony,” Twilight repeated, the ancient words somehow intelligible in her mind. Then she gasped as the import of the event became clear: The Tree and its magic were real; she’d measured the distinct increase in power when the principles of friendship were expressed near the tree. Now faced with yet another example of its power, she could not deny what she felt.

Smile still broad on her face, Celestia turned back to Twilight. “We shall not suppose to convince thee of what magic hath proven,” she said. 

“What does that mean?” Rainbow asked. 

“It means she’s telling the truth...” Twilight said softly. Part of her was slightly in awe as she realized this gave a certain weight to the principles of Harmony.

She knew that part of the reason for her lingering guilt was the amount of lies she’d told her six former friends. Logically, that meant honesty was likely an inherent trait for a pony like herself. Honesty certainly wasn’t forbidden by any means, and although he didn’t punish blatant falsehood, Discord himself generally seemed to expect a certain measure of truth in her reports.

So if honesty wasn’t bad, and might even be considered good, could that mean, by extension,  Harmony wasn’t necessarily all bad either?

But almost as quickly as it came, Twilight crushed the notion. Just because a thing might be natural or good didn’t mean it was worthwhile for an Agent of Chaos. She’d chosen this path because true equality was better than some ethereal definition of “goodness” that served only to enslave those without power. All are equal in anarchy, she reminded herself.

Although she didn’t say anything for fear of angering the physical goddess, Twilight’s face must have betrayed some of what she was feeling, because Celestia’s smile waned and her brow furrowed.

“We perceive thou art conflicted.” It wasn’t a question, almost more like an accusation.

“You could say that…” Twilight replied, actively avoiding eye contact this time.

“Know this, little anhorn,” Celestia said: “Thine allegiance hath been to Chaos, and a castle built upon sand cannot endure the storms. Harmony will reign again, and thou shalt see the error of thy ways.”

Although the tone of voice was even, Twilight shuddered at the implied threat. What might convince her, and what would the punishment be if she didn’t come around?

Part of her wanted to ask more but at the moment it seemed best not to antagonize the princess any further, so she merely looked down and nodded meekly in agreement. For now, the best thing she could do was be patient.

Celestia seemed to take the nod at face value and stood up, addressing both Twilight and Rainbow. “Verily we would speak at length, but the hour is hastening on, and much remains to be done. We shall take our leave and return to thee in some time.”

“Hey wait—” Rainbow Dash called, tapping the cell bars for attention. “Applejack hasn’t woken up yet. Is she going to be okay?”

“The Scourge of the Disobedient is grievous penance even in our time,” Celestia answered sympathetically. “Fain would we have chosen differently… but fear not, for our spell shall soon pass and she shall awake.”

Twilight heard Rainbow’s sigh of relief. “Okay, good to know; thanks.”

“‘Tis our pleasure,” Celestia said. Without further ado, she turned and strode down the hallway, quickly disappearing from sight. A minute later distant hinges creaked, a latch clicked, and the dungeon was once again left in silence. 

“She seems cool enough,” Rainbow said after a few seconds. “I’m a little less afraid for my life, at least.”

“Speak for yourself,” Twilight muttered, beginning to pace aimlessly. “You’re not the one on trial.”

“I guess that’s true.” Rainbow agreed. “I’m not the one who tried to poison the Tree of Harmony or whatever.” 

“I wasn’t going to poison it!” Twilight exclaimed defensively. “I was just….”

She trailed off, and realized that she still had no idea exactly what the seeds were even supposed to do. Discord had only said they would “bind” the tree and neutralize it. She had the vague idea that involved some sort of magical growth, like vines or something, but beyond that the actual purpose or function of the seeds was a mystery to her.

“Just… what?” Rainbow prodded.

Twilight sighed in exasperation. “Nevermind.” It didn’t help her frustration that the seeds were probably still in the shallow cave with her saddlebags, and she had no idea if she’d be able to find a way back to retrieve them, much less complete her mission at this point. 

Out of habit she reached up to massage her head, but before the hoof even touched she realized something was different.

“Huh…” she muttered, “that’s weird.”

“What’s weird?”

“My headache, it’s gone.” The throbbing pain that had plagued her for over a week seemed to be absent, or at least had significantly faded below the threshold of “agonizing” and seemed to reside somewhere around “barely noticeable.”

“Maybe it was that mind-thing Celestia did?” Rainbow suggested.

“I don’t think so…” Twilight shook her head a little, testing if maybe it was a fluke, some deadened nerve waiting to be woken up, but the ache didn’t return. “Now that I'm thinking about it, it’s been fading ever since we teleported in here.”

“Well, that’s a good thing, right?” Rainbow stretched, feathers rustling. “Count yourself lucky; my wing’s still cramped up.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Twilight replied. “I mean, I’m glad it’s gone, but I wish I knew why.” She paused a moment. “Oh, um… sorry about your wing.”

“It’s okay; not the first time it’s happened,” Rainbow said. “It’s my own dumb fault for flying so long and not eating something sooner.”

Her stomach clenched and Twilight groaned involuntarily. “Don’t even mention that,” she grumbled. “I forgot to ask if she ever planned on feeding us.”

“Yeah, that probably would have been a good idea,” Rainbow agreed. “Grazing is okay but not really my speed; I need way more energy than that.”

Twilight made a small noise of assent, but didn’t comment any further. Even the thought of food made the pit in her stomach churn painfully, and she didn’t want to talk about it any more than she had to. 

Instead, she turned to the overload of random thoughts, trying to filter the noise that still rattled around in her brain. Some images and memories were easy to recognize as either hers, or Celestia’s. Others were insidiously real: Did she actually like turnip soup? Was there really a book on leatherwork in her library? Had she truly been in love with a stallion named Wind Seeker? The more she pondered, the more confusing some memories became, and she felt a frightening loss of self as everything began to blur together.

An impatient shuffling of hooves sounded in the neighboring cell. “So you gonna share, or just keep mumbling like a crazy pony?”

Sighing in exasperation, Twilight reminded herself to stop thinking out loud. “I’m just trying to make sense of all this,” she explained. “When Celestia touched my horn, it wasn’t just like she was reading my mind. It was almost as if we were mixing thoughts, like two songs playing at once. Now it’s kinda hard to tell which are her thoughts and which are mine.”

“Anything that might help us get out of here?”

“Not really.” Twilight tried again to focus on a particularly vivid memory. “It’s weird; some of her memories are so…” she struggled for the right words, “...glædful? No, that’s not the word… They’re happy, that’s it.”

“Why is that weird?” Rainbow asked, a touch of confusion in her voice. “She was a princess, I’m sure she had everything she could ever want.”

“I don’t know,” Twilight said, still trying to make sense of the feelings, “I guess I just expected there to be more wrath or something. I mean, they‘re dictators; they’re supposed to be despotic and hateful. There’s some of that, like anger and resentment when her sister left, but not as much as I thought there’d be.”

“Her sister left? You mean the Night-Mare?”

“I guess…” Twilight furrowed her brow. The memory was strong but lacked context, as if something was pulling a veil over her understanding of the events, and the more she concentrated the more indistinct it became.

“Nevermind,” she said, and relaxed her focus. “It’s like I’m missing something. Maybe she didn’t want me to know. Until I can get out of these runes and cast a memory spell on myself I don’t think I’m gonna get anywhere with it.”

As she mentally shelved the alien memories, Twilight recalled something else that was bothering her. Unlike Celestia’s thoughts, this memory was clear and recent. “By the way, you never answered my question.

“What question?” Rainbow’s response was just a little too fast, too prepared.

“The one I asked just before Celestia showed up,” Twilight replied. She still wanted an answer, and wouldn’t be deterred this time. “In the forest with the Night-Mare: Why didn’t you run?”

“I told you,” Rainbow said indignantly, “I couldn’t just leave a friend like that; it’s not right.”

“I know, you said so already,” Twilight replied. “But that’s not all, I know it.”

Rainbow huffed. “So? Applejack says I’m loyal, it’s in my blood. Never leave a pony behind.”

“It wasn’t just loyalty!” Twilight’s voice rose slightly. She hated when ponies dodged her questions, and Rainbow’s combative personality didn’t make things any easier. “I’m loyal to Discord, like thousands of other ponies. I know what loyalty is, and what you did was something different.”

The sharp snap of hoof striking stone echoed through the corridor. “Why do you care?” Rainbow growled. “Why is it so important to you?”

“Because I—” Twilight paused in the middle of her reply and racked her brain. Why did she care so much? After all, she took it mainly on face value that Fluttershy was intrinsically kind, or that Pinkie Pie naturally felt compelled to bring laughter. Why couldn’t she simply accept that Rainbow Dash was just blindly, stupidly loyal as part of her nature?

She thought back again to that moment so many weeks ago in the Everfree, when Rainbow had saved her from the timber wolves. She remembered writing about it in her journal, the way her hooves shook and her quill trembled as she relived the moment over and over. She could have died, and probably would have.

Then she found it at the core of the memory, the one thought that had consumed her entire being for the scant few seconds before Rainbow had risked her own life to save Twilights. A tiny seed she’d buried so long ago and tried to forget.

“Because,” Twilight repeated, more evenly, “I need to know why you saved me from the timber wolves. I need to know... why you thought I was worth it.”

Silence settled over the cells, and immediately Twilight’s heart began to race. She’d finally vocalized one of the things that had been eating at her since she’d first left Ponyville: The fact that she, avowed servant of the Emperor or Chaos, had been accepted by a bunch of Harmony-loving seditionists on nothing more than what appeared to be her own intrinsic worth.

More specifically, a worth that she herself couldn’t seem to find. What did she bring to the table? Why was she so special? Why did they all feel so compelled to be her friends, when she herself had forsaken them?

The breathing in the adjacent cell grew shallow, and Twilight found herself leaning toward the bars, a tiny surge of hope growing in her chest. Perhaps she’d finally have an answer, a reason for the feelings she kept trying to rationalize away, why she herself felt such a strong connection to her former friends.

But when Rainbow spoke her voice was thin and bitter. “You’re not my friend,” she said. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

Twilight’s own breath caught in her throat. “B-but—” she stammered, trying not to lose the little flame of hope. “Rainbow, I… you have to tell me, please—” 

“I don’t owe you anything!” Rainbow shouted, slamming her hooves against the iron bars. “ANYTHING! You got that!?”

Stunned, Twilight fell back onto her haunches and the tiny flicker of hope in her chest snuffed out, leaving a painful, empty hole in its place. She tried unsuccessfully to avoid hyperventilating, and blinked back an unexpected surge of tears.

She hadn’t expected Rainbow’s reaction to be so violent, so angry. She flashed back to Rarity berating her after leaving Fluttershy’s cottage, and the raw emotions that had left her gasping on the floor of the library. It didn’t make sense, any of it. She knew they couldn’t be friends, and yet every failed reconciliation dug into her heart like a rusty knife. 

Then suddenly, a thought popped into her head, something she’d known but never really thought about: If this was so hard for her, a sworn agent of Discord, how much worse must it be for those ponies who willingly opened themselves to Harmony and friendship, even knowing the heartache it could cause?

“I’m sorry.” The words came suddenly, almost involuntarily.

“What?”

Twilight tried to swallow the ball of emotion tightening her throat. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, with as much sincerity as she could manage. “I know I’ve caused a lot of pain for you and your friends; I never meant to do that.”

She paused for a moment. Rainbow remained silent in the neighboring cell.

“And there’s probably nothing I can do to make things better,” Twilight continued, “but I want you to know that I’m honestly sorry things ended up like this. You didn’t deserve it, any of you. I wish it could have been different.”

“Me too,” Rainbow whispered. “Me too.”





Apple Bloom stared up at the looming castle walls and gulped. “Sure is a lot bigger and scarier than AJ said it was,” she whispered.

“I’ll say,” Spike replied. 

“We should be glad it is day and the Night-Mare away,” Zecora said softly. “I have been here at night, and it is truly a fright.”

They’d been watching the castle for a few minutes, hidden in the treeline a short distance from the main gate. So far, there was no sign of the Day-Mare, and the Night-Mare had not returned either. Of course, that meant she was probably still in Ponyville, doing Discord-knows-what.

“I sure hope everypony back home is okay,” Apple Bloom said. “I kinda hate that we just snuck out without doin’ anything.”

“Against the Night-Mare we’d have not a chance…” Zecora paused and squinted at the castle again, eyes searching. “I think now it is time for our plans to advance.”

Spike took a deep breath and exhaled nervously. “Okay, let’s do it.”

Apple Bloom’s mouth was suddenly too dry to form words, so she only nodded and watched, waiting for Zecora to make a move.

The plan was simple enough: Zecora knew enough of the old castle layout, and had said there was a dungeon in the caves that catacombed the foundations. They were going to sneak down, and hope the Sky-Mares had simply put their prisoners into one of the cells. With luck, they’d be able to get in and out without anypony knowing they were there.

Almost without warning, Zecora slipped out of the bushes. Apple Bloom followed, with Spike bringing up the rear.

It always unnerved Apple Bloom how incredibly quiet Zecora could be when she wanted. Despite having hooves like any other pony, the zebra’s rapid trot was almost silent. By comparison, Apple Bloom’s own hooves seemed to her like a stampede of panicked cows, and Spike’s claws sounded like a garden rake being dragged over gravel.

They passed the gates and courtyard without incident, and slipped into the main hall of the castle. Zecora stopped at a hallway crossing and glanced both directions for a moment, then cocked her head to the left and continued down the passage, still silent in the echoing stone halls.

A few turns later, they reached another hallway, this one ending in a steep staircase that disappeared into darkness.

“Down those stairs the dungeon lies,” Zecora said quietly. “We won’t have light, but we’ll have my eyes.”

The stairs loomed below like a gaping maw, waiting to swallow anything that dared enter. Apple Bloom swallowed again, her throat still dry and raspy, but Zecora didn’t wait. Turning herself slightly, she began almost side-stepping down the steep risers so as not to tumble forward. Apple Bloom and Spike glanced at each other silently, then followed.

They had barely gone a dozen steps down when Apple Bloom noticed something. “Hey, hold up!” She called to Zecora quietly.

A few paces ahead, Zecora paused and glanced back quizzically.

“What is it?” Spike whispered.

Apple Bloom trotted over to the side of the stairs and squinted at something tucked into a dark alcove. She grabbed a leather strap on her teeth and dragged the object into the light. 

“It’s Applejack’s lantern harness!” she exclaimed, recognizing the custom leatherwork and hoof-crafted lantern. “That means she came this way!” She paused, scrunching up her face in thought. “Why would she leave it here?”

Zecora shrugged. “The lantern is heavy, and these stairs are tall. Perhaps she left it to avoid a fall.”

“Makes sense, I guess,” Apple Bloom replied. “I wouldn’t wanna carry it down these either.”

“Leave it then, we should not tarry,” Zecora said, motioning with a hoof. “Stay close, and remain wary.”

They continued down the stairs, reaching the bottom a minute later. By now the light filtering down from above had nearly completely disappeared.

“I can barely see my claws in front of my face,” Spike complained.

“Touch my legs, stay close to me,” Zecora whispered. “For in the dark we zebras can see.”

Shivering from more than just the damp coolness of the dungeon, Apple Bloom eagerly obliged. She stepped close enough to feel Zecora’s shoulder brushing her own. Spike’s claws scooted similarly close on the other side.

In near lockstep they followed Zecora blindly through the darkness. Several times she paused as if listening or looking, before turning down what Apple Bloom could only assume were side passages or corridors. 

After about the fourth or fifth turn Zecora suddenly stopped cold, muscles tightening in her flanks and shoulders.

“Oof!” A thump and painful grunt came from somewhere in Spike’s direction.

Apple Bloom nearly stumbled over her own hooves trying to stop. “What in—”

“Shh!” Zecora hissed.

All three froze, silent as equinely possible.

Barely a second later, Apple Bloom heard and saw it. The sound of hooves echoed and a soft glow began to illuminate the walls. 

Then the light source came into view and Apple Bloom stifled a gasp. A towering white pony stepped out of a side passage just barely ahead of them, bathed in golden light from a spell at the tip of her long horn.

Not just any pony either. The light was dim, but Apple Bloom could distinctly see the huge folded wings: It had to be the Day-Mare. 

She’d barely made the connection when the alicorn’s long strides carried her across the corridor. She strode with purpose, quickly disappearing into the opposite passage as the light faded in her wake.

It seemed almost a full minute before any of them dared even breathe. Spike was the first to speak, a thin whisper barely audible above the pounding blood in Apple Bloom’s ears. “What now?”

Apple Bloom took a shuddering breath as quietly as she was able. It was a good thing the Day-Mare seemed focused on where she was going: Had she looked even a fraction of a degree to the side, she would have spotted them instantly. 

“I say we follow her,” she whispered, hoping her voice didn’t waver.

She felt Zecora’s shoulder shift in what felt like a nodding motion. “Though to follow is dangerous indeed, to Applejack and the rest she may lead.”

Taking a few steps forward, they turned down the passage the Day-Mare had entered. Within a few moments, Apple Bloom felt the stone beneath her hooves give way to dirt and rocks. Zecora’s movements became slower, and her turns became more like gentle curves rather than sharp angles; it seemed to Apple Bloom as if they’d entered a cave or something and were no longer in the dungeon.

They curved around a bend in the passage, and suddenly Apple Bloom could see again. Ahead of them was a pale silvery light, emanating from another turn in the passage and bathing the whole tunnel in a dim ambient glow. 

Zecora’s walking slowed to a silent creep. Apple Bloom followed suit, making her hoofsteps as light as possible. Even Spike’s claws were nearly inaudible, though he still made slightly more noise than either of them.

As they neared the source of the light, Apple Bloom began to hear a voice coming from around the corner. The trio stopped at the edge of the light, listening. 

“Modor Heofonlic, thu cild her gebed. Und to ic gief Bodig Haldful, thaet wid freond stedefaest bodig-berere mæg. Mid Súnne stréngd ónd Móna efenwégnes, laetan beon hit.... Mid Súnne stréngd ónd Móna efenwégnes, laetan beon hit....”

Apple Bloom glanced up at Zecora, eyes questioning, but only received a shrug in return. The voice continued, seemingly repeating the last part over and over like a chant. 

Very slowly, Zecora leaned forward, peering around the corner. Apple Bloom and Spike did the same, and Apple Bloom nearly gasped.

The turn in the passage opened to a large cavern, bathed in silver light. In the center of the cavern, an enormous glowing tree made of gems and crystal towered nearly to the ceiling. Even as an earth pony, Apple Bloom began to notice faint tingling in her hooves from the powerful magic that had to be emanating from the tree.

At the base of the tree was the Day-Mare, almost looking small by comparison. She was facing away from the entrance, lying on her stomach. Her warm golden magic mingled with the cool light from the tree as she levitated two glowing gems nearby. She was still chanting, head nodding rhythmically to the flow of the words.

Suddenly, part of the tree near the main trunk split and a rough red gemstone appeared to push out of the crystal, glowing with its own internal power. The Day-Mare’s magic caught the gem, seeming to pull it toward her. As more of the gem became visible it began to change shape, shedding excess material as cuts and facets appeared. 

In a few moments the gem had become a refined jewel, and the Day-Mare levitated it over to the other two. She stopped chanting, sighed and shook her head slightly as if fighting off sleep. Then the magic around her horn glowed brighter, and she started again.

“Modor Heofonlic, thu cild her gebed. Und to ic gief….”

Apple Bloom felt a gentle tap on her hip, and looked back. Zecora had already silently stepped back from the light, and Spike motioned to follow. She nodded; they still needed to find Applejack and the others. 

Backtracking through the cave was quicker than before, and soon Apple Bloom felt the smooth stone floor beneath her hooves again.

“What do you think that was about?” Spike asked, whispering as softly as possible. 

Apple Bloom shook her head reflexively even though she knew Spike couldn’t see. “I dunno, and I’m not sure I like it. Any idea what she was doin’, Zecora?”

“I do not know the purpose for the jewels, whether they are meant as weapons or tools,” Zecora replied, “but now is not the time to wonder; we must hurry to find the others.” 

They continued on, hugging closely to each other. Although It was still pitch black, Zecora seemed to be moving faster now. Apple Bloom wondered if she had a better idea of the dungeon layout now, or perhaps an intuitive sense of where to search next.

Her mind wandered to Applejack and Rainbow Dash. Were they under some kind of spell? Were they bound tightly with cold chains, left to waste away in a forgotten cell? Had they been tortured, or worse? As much as she tried to banish the terrible thoughts, she couldn’t stop wondering what they’d find in the dungeon. 

Of course, Twilight Sparkle was probably with them and had suffered the same fate, but Apple Bloom couldn’t bring herself to feel any sympathy on that front. Emperor’s Personal Student or not, it was Twilight’s fault they were in this mess; if she hadn’t come back to Ponyville, Applejack wouldn’t have come to the old castle and gotten captured by the Sky-Mares.

Come to think of it, Apple Bloom realized she didn’t exactly know what Twilight had done to earn Applejack’s ire. All she knew was that it was bad, and it had put her sister out of sorts for more than a little while. She’d have to ask when they found them.

Suddenly Zecora jerked to a halt. Instantly Apple Bloom’s mind recalled a few minutes earlier when she’d done the same, and her heart began racing as she wondered what new terror might be lurking around the next corner.

In the silence she heard something, a sound other than the blood pounding in her ears: It was a voice, muffled and barely audible somewhere ahead of her.

She strained her ears, trying to discern any words. At first nothing stood out, and she considered nudging Zecora to move closer, then without warning a metallic clang sounded and a shout echoed faintly through the dungeon.

“I don’t owe you anything! ANYTHING! You got that!?”

The echo faded a moment later. The voice was muffled and distorted, but Apple Bloom had no doubt: It was Rainbow Dash, and she was close.





“Ughhh….”

The unexpected noise violently pulled Twilight out of her silent introspection. She jumped slightly and her head spun to glance across the dungeon hallway. Her heart leapt in spite of herself as she saw the orange earth pony stirring. “Applejack?” she called.

Rainbow reacted just as quickly, hooves clinking against the cell bars. “AJ? AJ, can you hear me?”

Applejack groaned again in response. “I take it back…” she mumbled.

Twilight reared back and put her own hooves up on the bars to get a better look at the opposite cell. “Take what back?” she asked, trying to gauge just how lucid Applejack might be.

“...I ain’t glad she’s awake no more,” Applejack moaned. She stretched and winced, eyes squeezed shut. “What in tarnation did she hit me with? A train?”

Twilight opened her mouth to explain, but Rainbow Dash was quicker. “Celestia said it’s called ‘The Scourge of the Disobedient’, or something like that,” she explained. 

“The Day-Mare,” Twilight clarified for Applejack’s benefit. “The spell is painful, but shouldn’t have any lasting effects,” she added, a little annoyed that Rainbow had beaten her to the explanation.

Applejack tilted her head back and blinked groggily at Twilight. “That’s a big heap’a comfort,” she said bitterly, sarcasm practically dripping from her words. With another groan, she rolled onto her stomach and shakily pushed herself to a sitting position. “Ooohhh… Norm’ly I’d say this is jus’ my fair comeuppance, but I know for a fact I didn’t buck her that hard.”

“Whoa!” Rainbow exclaimed. “Are you serious?”

Applejack nodded stiffly. “Two in the face. Don’t seem like it’s done her no harm though.”

“It saved my life,” Twilight said gratefully. “That’s something.”

“Think nothin’ of it.” With another painful moan, Applejack put one foreleg against her muzzle and twisted. A series of hollow pops echoed off the cell walls, and she gasped in apparent relief. “Land sakes, that’s better!”

“Eeeugh, I hate it when you do that!” Rainbow groaned. “You’re gonna break your neck one of these days, you know.”

“I don’t care,” Applejack replied, rolling her neck and shoulders. “How long have I been out?”

“A few hours,” Twilight replied. “The Day-Mare— Celestia— actually just left a few minutes ago.”

“Celestia, huh? Is that what we’re callin’ her now?”

Twilight paused a moment, then shrugged and nodded simultaneously. “It’s the best name we have for her.” In truth she still didn’t quite understand if “Celestia” was a name, title, or alias of some kind, but it was the strongest impression she’d gotten.

“How’d y’all come up with that, then?” Applejack asked. She stretched her back and sighed.

“Well...” Twilight began. 

“It was this crazy mind-meld thing,” Rainbow cut in. “She touched horns with Twilight and—” 

From down the corridor, the sound of a latch interrupted the explanation. Rainbow fell silent as the distant door creaked open, then quietly thumped shut again. 

Twilight’s heart began beating faster, she didn’t think Celestia would have been back so soon. Maybe it was the Night-Mare this time, come to finish them off now that her sister was absent? Yet strangely Twilight couldn’t hear the heavy thump of alicorn hooves; instead a quiet shuffle began to fade into hearing range.

“Applejack? You down here?” a voice whispered.

Gasping in shock, Applejack lept to the front of the cell. “Apple Bloom!? Is that you!?”

The soft shuffling sound turned into an echoing gallop. Within seconds a yellow filly with a mane-bow nearly as large as her head dashed into view and practically threw herself at the bars to Applejack’s cell. “AJ, are you okay?! You’ve been gone forever and we didn’t know where to look for you and then we tried to get help from Fluttershy and—”

“Simmer down there sugarcube,” Applejack replied. She reached through the bars to hug Apple Bloom. “I’m fine, I’m fine...”

Barely a moment later, a zebra and a small dragon rushed up to the cells as well. Twilight didn’t know the dragon, but recognized the zebra immediately. “Zecora?” she exclaimed.

“And Spike too!” Rainbow Dash added excitedly. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re here to rescue you!” the little purple and green dragon replied. “When Applejack didn’t come back to the farm, we went to Zecora’s house and she told us what happened with the Sky-Mares.”

“B-but,” Twilight stammered, still trying to comprehend the sudden turn of events, “How did you know?”

“I was out in the woods near where you were taken,” Zecora said, “so back to the town with my news I did hasten.” She stepped up to Twilight’s cell and peered at the lock. “Simple iron bars are all I can see; why not use magic to set yourself free?”

“There’s some kind of magic-inhibiting imprisonment spell,” Twilight explained, motioning to the floor. “It’s tied to these runes, and I can’t figure out how to break them.”

Zecora leaned down to get a better look at the runes. “Hmm… rune magic is old, a nearly lost art… but I may know enough to give us a start.” She grabbed a rock in her teeth and began scratching symbols on the floor outside Twilight’s cell.

“...an’ then the Night-Mare showed up an’ took all the chaos magic right outta Ponyville!” Apple Bloom said, drawing Twilight’s attention away from Zecora’s runes. “I wanted to go into town and do somethin’, but I didn’t know what.”

“I’m glad you didn’t little sis,” Applejack said. “That Night-Mare is all sorts of mean.”

“She was saying a bunch of stuff too,” Spike added, “Like how she’s gonna ‘cleanse chaos’ and ‘restore harmony,’ things like that.”

Rainbow snorted in derision. “I was down for that until I met her. But if what I’ve seen is her idea of ‘harmony’, then you can count me out.”

Apple Bloom turned and looked quizzically at Rainbow Dash. “But… Emperor Discord protects us from Harmony. Why would you want it?”

Zecora stopped scratching runes. Applejack’s whole body tensed. A barely audible curse sounded from Rainbow’s cell, and silence fell over the dungeon.

Suddenly looking very self-conscious, Apple Bloom glanced around at the other adult ponies. “What? Did I do somethin’ wrong?”

“No Apple Bloom, you’re right,” Twilight said. She realized Applejack had probably been trying to keep her own seditious thoughts private to avoid upsetting her little sister; it wasn’t in her nature to brainwash a filly too young to know any better. After all, foals naturally loved the idea of Chaos, the freedom to do as they pleased, the fun of random happenstance. It wasn’t until they grew older that discontentment might set in.

“The Emperor does protect us,” Twilight continued, now that she had Apple Bloom’s attention. “That’s why we need to act fast, and get back to Ponyville so we can warn—”

“Twilight, don’t say another word.”

The tone in Applejack’s voice made Twilight pause. She glanced up to see the earth pony glaring daggers at her.

“Applejack, we talked about this,” Twilight said. “We have to—”

“No.” Applejack’s voice was now sharp and dangerous. “You are gonna stop talking right now, and you will not say another word to my little sister. Ever. Do I make myself clear?”

In spite of herself, Twilight’s mouth suddenly felt dry as a sand dune. Subtle pain crept into her ribs and skull as Applejack stared her down with eyes like freshly honed razors. Eyes that warned exactly the kind of terrible vengeance Applejack would invoke on anypony attempting to influence her little sister.

After a moment Twilight nodded; this was not a battle she could afford to fight right now, especially when they were so close to possible escape. 

Apple Bloom glanced between her sister and Twilight, uncertainty filling her eyes. “I don’t understand,” she said, “We wanna stop the Sky-Mares, right?”

The glint in Applejack’s eyes faded, and she looked down to Apple Bloom. “It’s… complicated, sugarcube. We’re kinda all stuck between a rock and a hard place here, but don’t you fret; I’m gonna do everythin’ I can to make sure it all works out right.” 

“Okay…” Apple Bloom still looked confused and unsure, but it was obvious she trusted her sister  enough to take the words at face value for now. 

Applejack turned to Zecora, who had resumed scratching on the floor with her rock. “Almost done there?”

After digging one last line into the floor, Zecora dropped the rock and spat dust from her mouth. Twilight noted that Zecora’s runes were arranged on a grid, rather than the circular pattern the Sky-Mares used. “These runes should work, as best I can tell, but I need unicorn magic to complete the spell.” She looked to Twilight. “When I touch the circle it will weaken your rune: You will have only moments your spell to attune.”

“So I’ll need to find a weakness in the runes, and use that to cast my magic, right?” Twilight clarified. She’d been passively examining the rune magic for some time, and knew it was built like a lock, so if Zecora was going to break part of the lock then all she had to do was find the right “key” for the last little bit, which should be much easier with fewer combinations.

Zecora nodded in assent, then closed her eyes and began mumbling. “Miungu ya mabonde, kusikia maombi yangu... Kufanya haya Adinkra nguvu ili tuweze kukimbia mahali pengine...” At the last word, she stomped one forehoof on the corner of the rune square.

Magic illuminated Zecora’s crude lines and a glowing beam shot across the floor, bisecting the runes in Twilight’s cell. Immediately, she felt a shift in the magical fields and the spell imprisoning her faltered slightly. She began probing the intricacies of the overlapping layers, thanking her lucky stars the she’d spent so much time getting familiar with it already.

Within a second, she’d found it: A hidden repeating sequence that had to be the master key. She memorized the pattern, prepared an inverse counter-spell, and cast her magic. 

An audible pop rippled through the air and instantly Twilight felt the ambient magic rush through her, tingling like blood returning to an asleep limb. The runes on the floor flashed a golden red, and quickly faded to nothingness.

“Whoa, that was cool!” Rainbow exclaimed. 

“I’ll say,” Applejack added. “Watch out, y’all!” She turned tail to the iron bars as Apple Bloom and Spike scurried to the side, and bucked the latch. Chunks of stone exploded into the hall and the cell door swung creakily open.

“Huh, I wasn’t expecting that.” Twilight magicked open her own cell, and Rainbow’s in turn. “I thought it would only unlock my own rune; she must have used the same combination for all three.”

“I am glad that it worked, but we should not tarry,” Zecora said, motioning them toward the door at the end of the cellblock. “We must move quick, step light and be wary!”

Nopony needed to be told twice. Twilight ignited a dim light spell at the tip of her horn and followed closely behind Zecora, staying a few steps to the side. Behind her, Spike and Apple Bloom instinctively positioned themselves between Rainbow and Applejack.

Twilight didn’t try to make sense of the labyrinthine corridors as she matched Zecora’s seemingly random turns. She was sure Celestia had heard the breakout, and it was only a matter of time before the princess would come after them. All they could hope for was staying one step ahead long enough to make it into the forest, where they could hide and sneak more easily. 

To her shock and relief, they made it to the base of the stairs without incident. Zecora ascended first, checking every corner carefully to make sure Celestia wasn’t waiting for them above. A few minutes later they emerged into the soft light filtering through the castle windows, and Twilight snuffed out her spell.

“Rainbow Dash, fly on ahead,” Zecora whispered, “Check the halls so we know where to tread.”

Rainbow saluted and lifted off, her wings almost silent. She flitted to the end of the hall, peeking around the corner from ceiling level where most ponies wouldn’t be looking. After a moment she waved them forward.

The process continued throughout the castle, and with each corridor Twilight felt her heart beat quicker. It was too easy, too perfect. There was no sign of Celestia or the Night-Mare, not even a hoofstep from behind or ahead. Had they really escaped from right under her nose? It didn’t seem possible.

Despite her fears, none of the turns or twists ended up with them facing an angry alicorn. Within minutes they’d reached the outer gates and and dashed into the dense camouflaging undergrowth.

“I wasn’t sure that was going to work!” Twilight exclaimed quietly, breathing deeply to try and control her racing heart.

“We still gotta get back to Ponyville,” Apple Bloom pointed out nervously, “She might catch us on the way if we take the main path.”

“From here I know trails no-pony trots on,” Zecora said, pointing deeper into the shadowy dark of the forest. “We may reach home before she knows we are gone.”

“Sounds good to me,” Spike said, glancing nervously behind.

Zecora peered into the bushes ahead for a moment, then silently stole forward. Spike and Apple Bloom quickly followed, understandably eager to leave the castle behind. 

Twilight began to move after them, but stumbled to a halt as Applejack stepped sharply in front of her. “Applejack? What are y—” Her question was cut short by a steel-shod hoof against her muzzle. She froze in surprise.

Applejack leaned in, eyes glinting. “Let’s get one thing straight, missy,” she whispered: “We might be goin’ back to Ponyville, but if’n you so much as think about pullin’ a fast one, you’ll have me to answer to. Got it?”

In shock, Twilight glanced around to see if anypony else had heard. Zecora, Apple Bloom, and Spike were seemingly already out of earshot. Rainbow Dash looked away pointedly, as if she were completely oblivious.

Suddenly feeling very alone and very frightened, Twilight could only nod in assent.

Applejack stared into Twilight’s eyes for a few more moments. “All right,” she said, lowering her hoof. “Let’s catch up.”





> Chapter 11
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“M-my name is Fluttershy, and I need to talk to you about my friends.”

The pause that followed was nearly silent, but to Fluttershy it might as well have been a hurricane for the blood pounding in her ears.

The Night-Mare glared down, perched on the edge of the balcony she had been speaking from. Her eyes searched back and forth from within her war helm, brows furrowing as if she were trying to determine the best way to violently punish the impudent pony before her.

It took every ounce of Fluttershy’s courage to not simply turn tail and run.

She hadn’t simply come on a whim. She’d spent a fair amount of time at the cottage after Zecora and the others left, agonizing over the possible ways her friends could run afoul of the numerous dangers in the Everfree, to say nothing of whatever the Sky-Mares might do to them. It didn’t help that none of them seemed to want to simply talk out the issues: Applejack and Rainbow Dash were too impulsive, Zecora for all her wisdom preferred decisive action, Apple Bloom and Spike were still too young, and Twilight Sparkle herself was a false friend that chaos seemed to follow everywhere.

Eventually, once she’d calmed down slightly, Fluttershy realized that if anypony was going to try and talk things out, it would have to be her. She would have asked Rarity and Pinkie Pie for help, but Rarity’s boutique was empty and Pinkie had been inexplicably and conspicuously absent for a few days.

Now, standing before the Night-Mare and waiting for punishment to rain down, she began to seriously reconsider whether talking was the thing to do.

The Night-Mare’s eyes narrowed. “Thy request intrigues us,” she said, her still-overpowering voice slightly softer than before. “We shall speak with thee.” Turning back to the crowd, she raised a hoof and motioned toward Fluttershy. “One of thy own hath requested an audience with us! We shall depart for a time; think on the words which we hath spoken.”

The relief rushing over Fluttershy nearly made her knees buckle. She gasped and steadied herself; it wouldn’t do to faint now, not in front of everypony.

In a graceful swoop, the Night-Mare lighted off the balcony and flared to a stop near Fluttershy. “Tell me,” she asked, “where may we speak in private?”

A pale amber pony with a streaked grey mane stepped out of the crowd. “Yes, I believe I can help with that!”

It took Fluttershy a moment to recognize the town’s most capable organizer and de facto leader, Ivory Scroll. Even in the worst times of chaos Ivory was a pinnacle of stability and calm, and Fluttershy felt a little of her anxiety dissipate.

The Night-Mare glanced over to Ivory and nodded. “What doth thou propose?”

“Over there is sort of our town hall,” Ivory said, motioning to a nearby building. “It’s not much but we have rooms you can speak privately in.”

“Very well,” the Night-Mare replied, and began to walk toward the building. “We thank thee for the use of thy ‘town hall.’ ”

“It’s no trouble at all your highness, happy to assist,” Ivory assured, quickly trying to match the Night-Mare’s stride. “But if I may, before you go— might we know what best to call you?”

Pausing mid-stride, the Night-Mare seemed to drift into thought, head tilting slightly. It was barely a moment, but just long enough for the silence to become slightly uncomfortable.

A second later, she inhaled sharply and straightened her head. “Luna,” she said. “Thou mayest call us Princess Luna. ‘Tis as well as anything in thy tongue.”

Soft murmurs rippled through the crowd. Ponies mulled over this new bit of information about the enigmatic princess who had once been merely an old mare’s tale and now walked among them in the flesh. They were understandably awed, curious, and worried about the implications.

But for Fluttershy, the hushed voices only served to remind her that she was still standing alone and vulnerable in front of a hundred or more ponies, most of whom she barely knew in passing. She felt the anxiety creeping back in, threatening to freeze her hooves in place.

“Thank you, Princess Luna,” Ivory said, bowing low, “and an honor it is to have you in our humble town.”

Princess Luna merely nodded wordlessly and began walking again, but for a split second Fluttershy thought she saw the barest hint of a self-satisfied smirk cross the alicorn’s face.

Forcing herself to move, Fluttershy began to follow the Princess toward the town hall. She made herself as small and inconspicuous as could be, avoiding eye contact with anypony even remotely near her line of sight.

When they neared the steps, the Princess magicked the doors open and stepped inside. Compared to the brilliant sunlight streaming down, the shadowed entrance to the town hall suddenly seemed to Fluttershy like a gaping cavernous maw, a deathtrap from which there would be no coming back.

She paused on the threshold and glanced over her shoulder. This would have been her last chance to back out, but the crowd had shifted, falling in behind them and blocking any immediate escape. A hundred-plus curious eyes locked on her, judging in hushed whispers. No, there was no going back now; she was stepping into an audience with the most powerful being in Ponyville, and soon the doors would be closed, leaving her alone at the mercy of Princess Luna, the Night-Mare.

A sudden wave of panic struck, threatening to undo all the progress she’d made so far. Her breathing became a series of ragged gasps. Her heart felt like it was on the verge of either stopping or exploding. She suddenly lost feeling in both forelegs but managed to lock her knees, keeping herself upright.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she thought of her friends. Applejack and Rainbow Dash, caught in a cruel imprisonment spell and possibly tortured. Zecora, plunging headlong into the Everfree to save them. Apple Bloom and Spike, blindly following into danger and possible death. She didn’t know if they might succeed, but at least here, with talking, she might have the slightest chance to beg for their lives.

The panic attack subsided slightly, not completely but just enough. With every ounce of courage and physical strength she could muster, Fluttershy stepped forward out of the warm golden sun and into the shadowy dimness of the town hall.

Behind her, the doors swung and latched shut, silencing the low, monotonous hum of the crowd. The large room was plunged into darkness, lit only by an indirect glow filtering through the upper windows.

“We had not thought to meet thee again so soon, Fluttershy,” Princess Luna said. The rolling thunder of her voice echoed off the walls, but it was still slightly restrained, less overpowering than before.

Fluttershy opened her mouth to respond, but only a gasp of dry breath emerged. She swallowed, trying to whet her mouth and throat. “A-again?”

“Verily,” Luna replied. “Thou wert present when we broke our bonds of stone, and we thank thee for thy part in our escape.”

“Um, you’re welcome, I guess, but... I don’t understand…” Fluttershy said. She racked her brain for an explanation: How could she have possibly helped the Princess escape?

“T’was thy powerful friendship which weakened the spell,” the Princess explained casually, glancing around the interior of town hall as if she were inspecting a home to buy, “we dare to say our freedom would not have been possible otherwise; it is for this reason we have agreed to an audience with thee.”

“I’m… glad I could help,” she said, trying to sound as sincere as possible. “But… like I said, I just need—”

“To ask us of thy friends, yes, we recall,” Luna finished. “Thou seekest to beg the release of Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and Twilight Sparkle, dost thou not?”

“Well, I… yes, actually?” Fluttershy replied, voice weakening. The fact that the princess already knew or could guess her request didn’t bode well. “I don’t know what they could hav—”

“The answer is simple,” Luna interjected. “Twilight Sparkle hath conspired to destroy the sacred Tree of Harmony, and accordingly must needs suffer the punishment for her actions. As for Rainbow Dash and Applejack…”

She paused for a moment, and raised one hoof to gently rub against her chin. “...they hath willingly aided Twilight Sparkle’s attempts to escape, and moreover hath visited violence upon the royal body. For these things they too must be punished.”

“Punished… how…?” Thoughts of torture and death had invaded Fluttershy’s brain again.

Princess Luna’s eyes flashed angrily and she glanced away, up toward one of the high windows where the sunlight was streaming in. “That,” she growled, “is yet to be seen.”

An uneasy silence settled on the room. Fluttershy glanced down and nervously rubbed one foreleg against the other, unsure how to respond. She’d tried to come prepared with some sort of plan to plead her case, but it had been deftly pre-empted so far. She took some solace in the fact that her friends were still alive, at least. It seemed apparent that although the princess seemingly wished to punish the others, something or somepony was preventing her from doing so. 

When she looked back up a minute later, Fluttershy started. Princess Luna had turned away from the upper window and was now staring intently at her, head cocked to the side curiously.

At great personal effort, Fluttershy held eye contact. 

“Truly thou art curious to us, Fluttershy,” Luna said. Her voice now had a different tone to it. While still bright and powerful, there was now an unexpected air of sympathy and understanding. “In any other time, the fates of these other ponies would be at the mercy of Chaos, yet now that Order hath laid claim thou seekest seek to change its course. Tell us, why dost thou trouble thyself with such things?”

The shift in the princess’s behavior was unexpected but welcome, and Fluttershy found herself breathing a slight sigh of relief. “Well,” she said, speaking a little more confidently. “I… I suppose I can’t bear to think of them suffering. Chaos shouldn’t be an excuse for anypony to stop caring.” 

Luna nodded. “Well said,” she agreed. “Praytell then: Dost thou consider thyself to be kind and compassionate toward all creatures?”

“Oh, yes!” Fluttershy replied, softly but enthusiastically. “I try to help every living thing I meet, pony or otherwise.”

“An admirable goal indeed,” Luna said. “And what of…” she paused for a moment as if thinking, then smiled slightly. “What of Rainbow Dash? What virtuous attributes doth she possess?”

Something tugged at Fluttershy’s brain worryingly, but she dismissed it. Against all her fears, she was being given an opportunity to defend her friends, to convince the princess they were good ponies who deserved to be shown mercy. 

“Oh, Rainbow Dash is incredible,” she said brightly. “Not only is she the best flyer in all Discordia;  she’s also brave, and she never would think of leaving another pony behind. No matter what happens, she’ll always stand side by side with a friend.”

“Wouldst thou say then that she is... loyal?”

Fluttershy nodded. “Oh yes!”

Luna leaned forward intently, smiling more broadly. “And Applejack?”

“Applejack is the most trustworthy pony I know,” Fluttershy said confidently. “You can always trust her to tell the…”

She stopped mid-sentence. The subtle tugging in her brain had suddenly turned into a full-blown alarm bell, and she began to realize why. 

It was the smile. It was too broad, too intense. Where the visage of Princess Luna had seemed to be one of sympathy and understanding, now it was a face that might come creeping out of the shadows, fangs glinting like knives, eyes wide with anticipation and hunger.

It was the face of a predator.

“…truth…” the words died in Fluttershy’s throat. She had to swallow twice before speaking again, and when she did her voice was barely audible. “Um… Why do you ask?”

“Because it means the prophecies are true,” Luna said. “Now—”

Suddenly, the princess broke eye contact, and looked behind Fluttershy toward the entrance of town hall. Her horn flared with deep blue magic, and a solid thump sounded from beyond the closed door. 





“Oh, I do wish I could see who she’s talking to,” Rarity whispered, craning her neck to try and see over the crowd.

“Well, if you wanted front-row seats you should have gotten here sooner,” Pinkie Pie quipped brightly. She was bouncing vertically in place, reaching nearly a full head and shoulders above everypony in the crowd. “It’s not every day a princess comes to Ponyville you know.”

“You wouldn’t be so excited if you’d been there when she woke up,” Rarity grumbled. She reared back on her hind legs, trying to get a higher angle.

“Wait, you’ve met her before?” Pinkie exclaimed. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I would have told you all about it, but I couldn’t find you before now,” Rarity said. “At first I thought it was a trick when her statue started to move. Had I known what was actually happening, I daresay I’d be halfway to Westfoal right now.” She stretched even higher, still unable to see over the crowd. “Speaking of which, where have you been?”

Somehow, Pinkie seemed to shrug mid-bounce. “Nowhere, really. I got the feeling I wasn’t narratively important so I just checked out for a while.”

Rarity sighed and dropped back to all fours; she wasn’t exactly young anymore, and standing upright was terrible for her hips. “I give up. Would you be a dear and tell me what’s going on?”

“Let’s see...” Pinkie began bouncing a little higher. Each hop was punctuated by a tiny poing, and the fluffy pink curls of her mane jiggled like so many little springs. “They’re headed to the town hall... the Princess is going inside, and—”

Pinkie gasped and seemed to freeze for a split second at the top of her bounce. The next moment, she crashed ungracefully to the ground, muzzle planted firmly in the dirt. “Oof!”

Slightly taken aback, Rarity raised an eyebrow. “Whatever was that about?”

Looking up wide-eyed and slack-jawed, Pinkie didn’t immediately respond. She just starred in the direction of the town hall for several moments before turning to Rarity. “It’s… It’s Fluttershy!” she exclaimed.

The words made sense, but Rarity found it a struggle to believe she’d heard correctly. “That’s impossible!” she said, blinking rapidly. “It couldn’t be her!”

At least, that’s what she tried to say. In actuality, it came out sounding more like:  “Huh? But— how? She— what!?”

Pinkie Pie frowned slightly and began extricating herself from the ground, shaking gravel off her chest and forelegs. “You know I can’t understand when you do that, but I get the distinct impression you don’t believe me.”

Rarity shook her head slightly, trying to clear the initial shock. “But.. that doesn’t make any sense!” she exclaimed. “No, there has to be something wrong. Perhaps you saw another pony who looks like her, although I can’t think of any—”

“Do you realize how long it’s been since I’ve eaten actual dirt?”

The train of Rarity’s thoughts made a valiant effort to stay on track, but derailed in a thunderous crash of screeching brakes and screaming passengers. “What?”

Pinkie Pie smacked her lips thoughtfully, a faraway expression on her face. “Gosh, it’s probably been at least three months. Last week it was straight cocoa powder, and before that it was cinnamon and oregano, and coffee grounds mixed with little jelly beans before that. Not to mention when it turns to soap or crystal or something. Then again, dirt’s probably been dirt at least a few times since then, but you don’t really notice if you’re not right down in it.”

She rubbed the last bit of soil and gravel off her muzzle and glanced at Rarity. “Still boring though. Do you think that anti-Chaos magic is gonna run out anytime soon?”

“I… can’t say I’d given it much thought,” Rarity said slowly. She made a conscious effort to recenter her mind and bring the conversation back on track. “I was slightly more concerned with why Fluttershy of all ponies would ask to speak to the Night-Mare; the poor dear was positively a wreck the last time we made that encounter.”

“Wait, so Fluttershy was with you too?”

Rarity winced internally. Pinkie probably wouldn’t take well to this; she hated missing out. “There were four of us, actually,” she admitted, trying to keep the summary brief. “Fluttershy, Zecora, Twilight Sparkle, and myself. Twilight had just come back into town, and we saw her heading into the forest so we followed her to the old castle. That’s where we saw the Night-Mare’s statue waking up.”

“Huh…” A far-away expression settled on Pinkie’s face and her eyes glazed over slightly.

For a moment Rarity waited to see what would happen next. It was common knowledge around Ponyville that Pinkie’s various behavioral quirks seemed to herald otherwise unpredictable events, such as “twitchy-tail” warning of falling objects or “itchy-neck” meaning somepony else was watching. Rarity hadn’t heard of “zone-out” yet, but that could simply mean a new facet of Pinkie-sense was about to be revealed. 

However, after several moments with no apparent alteration in the surrounding environment, Rarity began to wonder if this was simply Pinkie being... Pinkie. Again. 

Tentatively, she stepped forward and tapped the uncharacteristically-sedate pony on the shoulder. “Pinkie darling… are you quite all right?”

Pinkie started. “Sorry, just thinking of something. So, what do we do now?”

“Well…” Rarity said, still on-guard for any unexpected eventualities, “I was thinking perhaps we could try and get to the town hall, maybe get inside to help Fluttershy, or at least hear what she’s talking to the Night-Mare about.”

“You mean Princess Luna?”

“Yes, Princess Luna.”

Pinkie glanced around and waved a hoof. “The crowd has thinned out a bit since she left. Can’t imagine they have more important things to do right now, but whatever. Should be easy to get there now.”

It was true; Rarity could see that a portion of the ponies crowding the town center had dispersed somewhat. “Oh, that’s perfect!” she said, starting off toward the town hall. “Hopefully we can — “

“But — !” A pathetic pout crossed Pinkie Pie’s face. “What about my plan?”

Stopping cold only after only two steps, Rarity sighed. “You haven’t told me your plan,” she explained, trying to keep mild exasperation from creeping into her voice.

“Well, I’m not done planning it yet,” Pinkie explained in return. Then she cocked her head to the side, thought for a moment, and nodded. “Yeah, I suppose that means we can’t really use it. All right, let’s go with yours!”

Immediately, Pinkie took the lead and began trotting off toward the town hall. Following behind, Rarity growled under her breath. For as much as Rarity loved Pinkie Pie’s selfless devotion to bringing joy and happiness, her single-minded drive to live in the moment often seemed to leave little room for anything else.

They quickly pushed through the remainder of the crowd of ponies, most of whom were milling about aimlessly or conversing on the words of the alicorn princess. As they neared the town hall, Rarity could see other ponies peering briefly in windows or pressing ears to the walls before wandering off again, invariably looking slightly disappointed or confused. She wondered how they could be so blasé about one of their own speaking face-to-face with a pony as legendary as the Night-Mare.

The reason quickly became apparent. Rarity and Pinkie Pie reached the nearest town hall window at the same time and reared up on their hind legs, shading their eyes from the sun to see into the gloomy interior behind the glass. 

“What in Discordia…?” Rarity exclaimed.

“Huh, that’s weird,” Pinkie said. She stepped back from the window and checked another. “Yep, same here!”

Where normally a pony could expect to see into the main chamber of the town hall, now Rarity could only see a shimmering, dark blue magical field, almost like a drawn curtain. A quick inspection of the other nearby windows yielded the same result, just as Pinkie had said. 

“The Night-Mare must be using a spell to block them,” Rarity mused, probing the magical field with her own. Not that it did any good; she wasn’t a spell expert by any means, and couldn’t make heads or tails of the complex enchantment. 

“I’ll check the door!” Pinkie said, bouncing around the corner of the building.

Rarity followed, crossing the corner just in time to see Pinkie straining against the doors, forelegs wrapped firmly around the pull-bars. 

“She… sure… has… this… place… locked… down… tight!” A large vein began to pop on the side of Pinkie’s neck.

“Don’t hurt yourself, dear,” Rarity said, wrapping Pinkie in a telekinetic bubble and levitating her away. “Let me try.” She focused her magic on the space behind the door, trying to grasp blindly for a latch or crossbar that could be somehow manipulated; ponies rarely built locks that weren’t also magically secured, but the town hall was an exception because of its semi-public nature.

However, her probing revealed no mechanical force keeping the door shut. Rather, it seemed to be more of the same magical field— 

With a solid thump and a surge of excruciating pain, Rarity’s world turned black. 





Fluttershy’s heart leapt into her throat and adrenaline coursed into her veins. She instinctively spun toward the doors, wings flared in case she needed to make a quick escape toward the ceiling. 

But there was nothing. The doors remained shut tight, unadorned except for a faint blue magical afterglow, which faded a second later.

She glanced back over her shoulder, and saw the same blue radiance dissipate from Princess Luna’s horn. 

“It seems there are others keen to join us,” the princess mused. “May they consider that a warning not to interfere.”

The adrenaline in Fluttershy’s chest shifted immediately to sick worry in the pit of her stomach. “Oh no!” she whispered, folding her wings and turning toward the princess. “You didn’t hurt anypony, did you?”

Luna looked down and smiled again, that unsettling, equicidal grin that reminded Fluttershy of a stalking predator. The face made her stomach twist even further, but it wasn’t until the princess spoke that the very blood ran chill in Fluttershy’s veins.

“Dearest Fluttershy, ever the bleeding heart,” Luna said, her voice suddenly hard and cold, without the thunderous volume it had carried only seconds before. “Don't worry; your precious ponies will wake with little more than a headache.”

Somehow, the words did nothing to ease Fluttershy’s growing terror.

“Now,” the princess continued, “tell me what you know about the Elements of Harmony.”

For a brief, blissful moment, confusion replaced fear and Fluttershy stared blankly at Luna. “Um… I’m sorry, I don’t know what that means,” she whispered.

“The Elements of Harmony?” Luna repeated incredulously. “Have the prophecies really not survived Discord’s reign?” Her eyes narrowed. “You aren’t lying to me, are you?”

The fear came back with a vengeance, and Fluttershy quailed. “No!” she whimpered. “If I knew, I’d tell you, I swear.”

The princess regarded her through slitted eyes for a moment, but eventually her face relaxed. “Very well. Perhaps ignorance has made you blind.” She sat back on her haunches and seemed to grow thoughtful, gazing off into the distance for a few moments.

“In the early days of our reign, my court employed a prophet, Scrysight the Seer. I see now he was merely passable as soothsayers go, but he did privately make a few prophecies that rang true. One was to predict the coming of five Elements, pure essences of Harmony which could surpass even the divinely-mandated symmetry of Sun and Moon: Honesty, Laughter, Generosity, Loyalty and…”

She looked at Fluttershy pointedly. “...Kindness.”

Fluttershy gulped.

“Of course such a prediction was practically heresy, and I commanded Scrysight to never speak of it again.” Luna frowned. “Much later, my sister announced in public that her own seers had made shockingly similar predictions, despite never knowing of the original prophecy. And what’s more, she encouraged it!”

Growing agitated, she stood up and began pacing. “Blatantly, in front of the whole country, Solaria welcomed the very ideas that would supplant us! She, who had already upset the balance by convincing our subjects to value her precious Day above the beauty of the Night! As if they didn’t see enough—” Luna’s voice cut off abruptly and she glanced away, chest and flanks heaving with angry breaths.

But something was wrong. Through the fear and worry, Fluttershy felt a prick in her heart, a feeling she’d come to know very well over a lifetime of reaching out and becoming attuned to the needs of others. 

In spite of herself she gingerly stepped forward a few paces, and upon reaching Luna’s side, reached up with one hoof. She placed it on the princess’s shoulder and felt an almost imperceptible tell-tale shuddering.

“Um,” she said gently, “are you okay?”

Instantly the muscles beneath Fluttershy’s hoof tensed. Princess Luna recoiled and snapped around with a snarl.

“DO NOT TOUCH ME!”

Fluttershy screamed and jumped backward, tumbling over herself as she scrambled across the floor. A moment later she slammed into the doors of the town hall, but when they failed to yield she spun around, expecting to see an angry alicorn bearing down on her with murderous intent.

But Luna hadn’t moved, and Fluttershy saw her initial impression had been correct. A single tear still rested on the princess’s cheek, only to be magicked away a split second later.

For a few moments they simply stared at each other. Neither pony moved, and the only sound was their respective breathing: One deep and heaving with rage, the other staccato and thin with terror. 

But gradually Fluttershy realized she didn’t seem to be in immediate danger of being vaporized or physically crushed, and her heart began to slow. She focused on breathing, calming her rattled nerves. The tunnel around her vision faded, and her stomach started to unclench. 

“I’m… I’m sorry…” she whispered, plaintive and submissive. 

Princess Luna didn’t immediately respond. She just continued staring. But after a few seconds her shoulders relaxed, and she smiled.

Then she began to laugh.

It wasn’t an embarrassed chuckle, or a hearty belly laugh. It wasn’t even a sarcastic sympathy laugh. It was a low, quiet, mirthless imitation of a laugh that sucked the very life from the air it touched, leaving nothing but cruel, heartless malice. 

And as she laughed, the smile grew. It grew past the sane limits of a normal smile, becoming almost comically wide and baring the princess’s gleaming white teeth. To Fluttershy, they might as well have been fangs, needle-sharp and dripping with venom.

“Oh, no no no, little pony,” Luna said, the laughter dying off. “There is no need to be sorry. You see, unlike my sister, I doubted the prophecy. I thought she was weak for entertaining it, and I hated that she was loved more than me. In my arrogance and wounded vanity, I left her to rule alone.

“For over two centuries I wandered, gaining knowledge and power. I thought by the time I returned, her rule would have crumbled. I would swoop in to save her, as Night brings relief from the cares of the Day. Imagine my chagrin when I returned to find her kingdom thriving and well, with her worshiped as the matriarch of all the heavens!”

The princess shook her head. “How foalish I was. Discord attacked that same day, and divided we could not stand against him. But now…”

She slowly started walking toward Fluttershy, the predatory grin growing even wider if it were possible. “Now, thanks to you, I see the error of my ways. I have slept a thousand years, walked a thousand thousand dreams, and in all my wanderings have not met a single soul like yours. My sister was right to seek the elements, but she didn’t know where to look nor what form they would take.”

Luna’s strides were long, and in mere moments her muzzle was within touching distance of Fluttershy’s own. “You are the Element of Kindness that was prophesied,” she said softly. “Honesty and Loyalty await us in Solaria’s dungeon; only Generosity and Laughter remain. Once they are found we will defeat Discord, and I will show my sister the true meaning of Harmony.”





Pinkie Pie gently poked at the light teal magical field suspending her. Some ponies didn’t like being floated around, but personally she enjoyed it. Not being a pegasus, she lacked the ability to fly, and not being a unicorn she couldn’t do spells, so it was always fun to get a taste of both those things. 

Especially when it was Rarity; her magic had the best taste, somewhere between mintwheat cookies and blue cream limeades, or at least what those things tasted like on average when the Sugar Polyhedron was having a less-off-than-on day. 

That reminded her, she needed to check in with Mr. and Ms. Cake. She knew it annoyed them when she didn’t get written in properly on days she was expected to work. 

Suddenly her right eye spasmed for a brief second, and immediately after, her tail twitched. 

Pinkie scrunched her nose in annoyance. ‘Somepony’s bad magic falling things’? What’s that supposed to mean? She wondered.

Out of the corner of her non-spastic eye (the left one) she saw something move near Rarity’s head. With a little effort, she made both eyes behave and focused.

The something looked like another magical field, only this one was dark sparkly blue and seemed to be quickly forming a bubble around Rarity’s head. In fact, it reminded her of…

Pinkie’s eyes widened. Somepony’s bad magic! 

Before she could say anything, the dark magical bubble seemed to collapse inward, making a loud thump. Rarity’s head snapped forward, and like a puppet with its strings cut she collapsed limply to the floor. 

Her first instinct having proven correct, Pinkie looked skyward. With how close together the Pinkie-sense warnings had been, she could expect falling things any moment now. 

It took another full second before she realized that with Rarity unconscious, there shouldn’t be any magic still holding her up.

“Oof!”

Yep, still dirt.

Extricating herself from the ground for the second time today, Pinkie noted that this time she’d somehow acquired a bloody snout, which was unusual for her. She dabbed at it gently. “Nothing broken,” she observed thankfully.

Rarity, on the other hoof…

A sudden wave of panic struck her. “Oh no!” In an instant, Pinkie dashed to her friend’s side. What if she wasn’t just unconscious? What if—?

But Rarity was still breathing, and Pinkie sighed in relief. It was then that she noticed, strangely, Rarity’s snout also had a thin trickle of blood escaping one nostril. 

It only took a moment for the coincidence to make sense.

“...That spell was meant for both of us,” she observed to no-pony in particular. “Rarity’s magic must have blocked some of it.”

Now though, Pinkie was left with a conundrum. Fluttershy was still inside, Rarity was unconscious outside, and she herself had been hit with a partial spell she didn’t know the full effects of. All she was sure of so far was that it knocked ponies out, and Princess Luna’s magic tasted somewhere between blue razzleberries and cocoa beans. Any one of those things could quickly become an emergency, and she needed a plan. At least, one accounting for Fluttershy and Rarity’s situations; magic tastes generally didn’t turn into emergencies. 

“C’mon Pinkie,” she said to herself. “Gotta do something about this. Think!”

She knew Rarity had been knocked out trying to get into the town hall, and all the windows and doors seemed blocked, so helping Fluttershy wasn’t an option at the moment. On the other hoof, Rarity was already outside, and suffering the effects of an unknown spell. So she probably should find a unicorn with medical—

Before she could finish her thought, the doors to the town hall burst open.

Instinctively, Pinkie jumped to the side, and not a moment too soon. A huge dark blue form swooped out of the shadows at breakneck speed, throwing up a cloud of dust across the town center before soaring skyward. 

Coughing and sputtering, Pinkie dashed to the edge of the dust cloud and squinted into the sky, shielding her eyes from the bright sunlight. She spotted Princess Luna, quickly becoming a dark dot in the distance as huge wings carried her toward the Everfree Forest

“Well, that changes the plan slightly,” Pinkie mused. 

Immediately, she turned and rushed back to town hall, bounding over Rarity’s prostrate form and into the darkness. “Fluttershy!” she called. “Are you there?”

Only silence greeted her. Fluttershy was nowhere to be found. 

> Chapter 12
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Are we there yet?”

The subtle whine grated on Twilight’s nerves like hooves scraping over a chalkboard. Though Apple Bloom hadn’t actually said those exact words until now, she’d been quietly implying them for a while now with other phrases like “this is taking so long” and “it didn’t seem this far before!”

Not that Twilight could blame the filly for being impatient. They had been walking for a long time now, much longer than seemed necessary to get from the old castle to the outskirts of Ponyville.

“Yeah, we’ve gotta be getting close right?” Spike’s voice had the same whiny undercurrent as Apple Bloom’s, and Twilight gritted her teeth. 

“It is better to wander, and not to rush,” Zecora replied softly, “for the Day-Mare may be about, and seeking us.”

“I’ve actually been wonderin’ the same,” Applejack said. “Truth be told, I don’t recognize any of this.”

Zecora nodded and pushed past yet another thick, leafy bush. “The town is not far, just around this—”

Out of nowhere, an earth-shattering BOOM sounded overhead. Trees shook and thick dust filled the air as a shockwave rippled through the forest. Twilight yelped, stumbling to the side in surprise. Apple Bloom screamed in fear.

“What in tarnation—!?” Applejack shouted.

Before the echo had even faded, Rainbow Dash was fanning her wings to clear the dust clouds. “That was a sonic boom!” she exclaimed, glancing skyward. 

Twilight’s stomach dropped. “Rainbow, wait!” she called.

It was too late. Either Rainbow hadn’t heard or didn’t listen, and a moment later had soared into the dense foliage above their heads. 

“What is she doing!?” Spike said incredulously. “She’s gonna get us caught!”

Apple Bloom gasped. Applejack moved to comfort her sister, pulling the filly close. “Hush sugarcube, it’s gonna be okay.”

In Twilight’s estimation, either the shockwave had damaged her hearing or the forest was preternaturally silent in its wake. For several moments nopony seemed to even dare breathe, all watching the canopy for any sign of movement. 

After what seemed like an eternity, there was a rustle of leaves and Rainbow reappeared overhead. “It was the Night-Mare,” she said, flaring her wings and settling to the ground. “I just caught a glimpse of her heading back toward the old castle.”

“She didn’t see you, did she?” Twilight asked nervously. The thought of being captured again filled her with dread.

“Nah,” Rainbow waved a hoof dismissively. “I only peeked out for a second. Ponyville is close, by the way, I saw the top of town hall over there.”

“What d’ya think she was doin’ here?” Applejack asked.

“I dunno, but it can’t be good.” A concerned look crossed Rainbow’s face. “The sky was all, like, weird, too.”

Applejack scoffed. “You been out in the Everfree too long.” 

“No, I mean…” Rainbow scowled a little. “It’s hard to explain… The sky past town is all polka dots and plaid and stuff, but there’s like a bubble or something over the town and it’s just clear blue sky, like out here.”

Apple Bloom began to bounce excitedly. “Yeah, we saw that before we left town! The Night-Mare cast some kinda spell that took all the chaos stuff away.”

Zecora said something affirmative in reply, but the conversational voices faded as a small chill went up Twilight’s spine. If Apple Bloom’s description was correct, the bubble Rainbow had described was an area-of-effect anti-chaos charm. More importantly, anti-chaos charms were one of the few things the Emperor strictly controlled. Only Agents of Chaos knew how to use them, and were only allowed to use them in very limited, approved circumstances, such as keeping the trains functional.

If one had been cast without his permission, especially one powerful enough to normalize an entire town, Discord would quickly know of it.

The thought ignited a tiny glimmer of hope inside her. After being shunned, questioned, hurt, and frustrated at every turn, it finally seemed like her luck was taking a turn for the better. In all likelihood Discord would act quickly and hopefully nip the entire problem in the bud.

“Maybe it has something to do with that other spell the Day-Mare was doing?” Spike suggested.

The words drew Twilight’s ear. “What other spell?” she interjected.

“At the crystal tree,” Spike said, seemingly pleased in Twilight’s interest. “She was like, praying or something, and gems were coming out of it.” He licked his lips. “They looked really tasty, too.”

The brief hope in Twilight’s chest turned cold. Besides being a delicacy for dragons, gemstones and crystals were often used as magical amplifiers. They could be enchanted with anything, but the main strength of the magic would come from whatever source the gems were refined out of. 

The very idea of that much power made her shudder. “We’ve got to get to the library,” she said, the snap decision leaving her mouth in the same moment she made it. 

“An’ why’s that?” Applejack said suspiciously. 

“I need to find out if there’s any legends or history about this, so we can know what we’re dealing with. The gems mean she’s planning to do some serious magic,” Twilight explained, reasoning that it wouldn’t do to try and hide the truth at this point. “We might need to evacuate the town.”

Applejack rolled her eyes, but a look of uncertain worry crossed Zecora’s face. “Are you sure of this thing you ask? To move so many ponies is no small task.”

Twilight nodded earnestly. “Gemstones are ancient magic, and some of the most powerful. If she refined the gems from the Tree of Harmony, there’s no telling how powerful she could become. If I can find a book about gemstone harmony magic, perhaps we can figure out roughly what she’s planning and if the town will be in any danger.”

“To gain more knowledge is wise,” Zecora agreed, “so a suitable plan we may devise.” She turned to Applejack, as if asking for agreement or approval.

For several seconds Applejack studied Twilight’s face, as if staring harder might reveal some hidden agenda. Against a sudden urge to cower, Twilight steeled her resolve. She knew Applejack didn’t trust her, but the revelation about the gems suggested that a clash between Discord and the Sky Mares could reach even more apocalyptic proportions. She knew evacuating Ponyville wasn’t strictly necessary; her primary goal was mostly to help Emperor Discord defeat the Sky-Mares, and If they managed to save a few lives in the process, so much the better. 

Still, In the back of her mind she wondered why she felt the sudden urge to care at all. She knew that before, her only goal had been to warn Discord regardless of the potential fallout. Now inexplicably, she felt a growing concern about the residents of Ponyville and the surrounding countryside. 

“Zecora?” Applejack said, keeping her eyes on Twilight, “Which way is my farm from here?”

“Down that fork you’ll find the way,” Zecora pointed at a faint branching in the game trail they’d been following. “It is a clear path; only a few minutes trot, I’d say.”

Applejack nodded. “Alright. Apple Bloom, Spike, we’re headin’ home. If’n what Twilight says is true, we gotta get some stuff ready.”

Then she stepped forward until her snout was nearly touching Twilight’s own. “Don’t you try anythin’,” she whispered threateningly. “This is my home, and if anything happens to it, I’ll be holdin’ you personally responsible.”

Twilight gulped down a sudden surge of primal terror, and forced herself to nod. “Okay,” she said simply.

Breaking eye contact, Applejack motioned to Spike and Apple Bloom. “C’mon, let’s go,” she said. “Rainbow?”

“Yeah?”

“Keep an eye on this one,” Applejack said, pointing to Twilight. “You can’t trust her any farther than you can throw her.”

Rainbow cast a sidelong glance at Twilight. “Will do, Applejack,” she said. 

Without another word Applejack, Spike, and Apple Bloom disappeared down the faint trail. Within seconds the sounds of their movement were muffled by the dense underbrush.





True to Zecora’s word, the family farm was much closer than Applejack had anticipated. Upon reaching the farm proper she hurriedly urged her charges into the house.

“All right then you two, don’t dilly-dally,” she said. “We got lotsa stuff to get ready. Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“Start gatherin’ up some travelin’ grub. Couple days worth if’n you can manage, but it’s gotta fit in a regular pullcart with room to spare.”

Spike saluted obediently. “Will do!” he exclaimed, dashing off.

Satisfied that the little dragon could handle that task competently, Applejack turned to her sister. “Okay Apple Bloom, you—”

Apple Bloom was standing just inside the front door, shuffling her hooves restlessly. She briefly made eye contact, then almost immediately glanced away. It seemed she was making a point of looking everywhere except Applejack.

The behavior gave Applejack pause. Her little sister was usually one to speak her mind, a skill they’d both learned from their parents. The only exception for Apple Bloom was when she got skittish about something she couldn’t quite wrap her young brain around.

“You okay sugarcube?” Applejack asked gently. “Now that I think ‘bout it, you ain’t said two words since we left the others.”

Apple Bloom scuffed one forehoof on the floor. She was silent for several moments, and didn’t make eye contact when she finally spoke.

“Sis, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure thing,” Applejack replied without hesitation. “You know you ain’t gotta ask permission for that.”

A few more moments silence followed while Apple Bloom chewed on her lip, seemingly trying to find the words she wanted.

“Why… Why do you hate Twilight Sparkle?”

Now it was Applejack’s turn to shuffle uncomfortably while searching for words. She sighed. “It’s, well… Twilight… see, she hurt us all real bad. I can’t expect you to understand that now, but trust me when I say she ain’t a good pony.”

“Because she believes in Emperor Discord an’ you don’t?”

Applejack felt her heart jump a little in her chest. “I reckon that kinda depends,” she hedged, looking away and making her hooves busy with some saddlebags from a nearby closet. “I mean, I wouldn’t say—” 

“I ain’t dumb, Applejack!”

The tone stopped Applejack in place, and she slowly glanced back to her sister.

There were veritable daggers coming out of Apple Bloom’s eyes now, aimed directly at Applejack. Her jaw clenched and unclenched almost imperceptibly. “You’re the one always goin’ on about honesty and speakin’ your mind and never tellin’ a lie, so why don’t you come clean with me? I’ve known ever since I was shoulder-high to a jump-beatle that you hated Discord. You just never actually say you don’t, an’ you don’t get to start now.”

The words stung with unwanted candor, and Applejack scowled right back. “Now listen here little missy—”

“No, you listen!” Apple Bloom nearly shouted. “Back in the forest you were lookin’ at Twilight like you’d take any excuse to buck in her skull; is that ‘cause she’s gonna bring the Emperor here?”

An unexpected wave of guilt made Applejack’s gut clench. Her sister didn’t know she’d already beaten Twilight almost to death for that very reason. Instinctively she looked at her hooves; they were mostly covered in trail dust, but a few dried brownish-red streaks still showed above the dirt line. Her throat constricted at the sight. 

Apple Bloom stepped forward. “‘Cause if we don’t bring Discord here, the Sky-Mares might win! Do you want ‘em to win, or somethin’?”

Any remaining words died on Applejack’s tongue. She opened and closed her mouth silently a few times, brain churning on the question. On the surface it seemed simple enough. She hated Chaos, as did the Sky Mares. It would make sense for her to answer yes, Apple Bloom’s feelings notwithstanding. 

But the truth was more complex. For all the uncertainties and difficulties they lived with under Emperor Discord, at least he was generally civilized and occasionally made concessions so long as Chaos reigned supreme. Ponies might be his playthings, but he seemed to take no special pleasure in making them suffer. At worst, he seemed to be ambivalent about it. 

By contrast, she’d seen and felt firsthoof the terrible wrath of the Night-Mare. While Celestia at least appeared benevolent, her sister was every bit the harsh, controlling dictator of legend. Were Discord deposed, the Night-Mare might very well rule with iron hoof once more, and Applejack couldn’t decide if that would be better or worse. 

Applejack swallowed and tried to whet her suddenly-dry mouth. “I— I don’t rightly know, sis,” she said. “You’re right, I don’t like Emperor Discord. I hate Chaos, always messin’ with our lives just when we get stuff in order. You ain’t even seen the half of it: Ponyville’s got it mostly easy, what with bein’ right here on the Everfree, but outside our lil’ town there ain’t hardly nothin’ a pony can count on, not even food.”

Thoughts of the nearly-starving ponies in Westfoal came unbidden to Applejack’s mind again. She sighed and shook her head, then turned back to the closet to continue fussing with traveling saddlebags.

“But even much as I hate it, the Sky-Mares might be worse. We don’t know what they want or what they can do, an’…” 

She trailed off, the words in her mind getting stuck in her throat. They’d come unbidden, carrying a simple summation of the feelings she’d so long wished to keep hidden from her younger sister. 

“An’ what, AJ?” Apple Bloom’s voice was plaintive now. It begged for trust, for truth and certainty in a world where reality itself was malleable.

Applejack squeezed her eyes shut and drew a deep, quivering breath. She’d always valued honesty in all things, even moreso since Zecora had taught her its importance as a core part of friendship. If she couldn’t be honest with the filly who looked up to her as a role model in this chaotic world, then what was the point?

“Truth be told…” she said, steadying her voice, “…I don’t know what’s comin’, and that scares me. It scares the ever-livin’ soul outta me.”

The words seemed to suck the life out of the room. Apple Bloom looked crestfallen at the realization that her older sister wasn’t a bastion of infinite strength. After a few moments silence, she spoke. “So what are we gonna do?”

The request for action rather than feelings helped Applejack recenter a little. She breathed deep again and squared her slumped shoulders. “For now, let’s just get those supplies ready,” she said with a tone of finality. “If’n we gotta leave town, it won’t do to be caught with our shoes off.”

“An’ then?”

The words were more despairing than resigned. Applejack left her post at the supply closet and placed what she hoped was a comforting hoof on Apple Bloom’s shoulder. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, sugarcube. Ain’t gonna do no good to worry ‘bout it ‘til then.”

“GUYS!”

Both sisters jumped as Spike’s voice and footsteps came crashing down a nearby staircase. The dragon stopped at the bottom, eyes wide.

“What’n tarnation you shoutin’ like that for?” Applejack snapped. 

Spike pointed back up the stairs. “Something…” he seemed to struggle for words. “Something’s happening; you’d better come see.”





Rainbow had been right about the proximity of the town. After several more minutes of pushing through dense underbrush, the forest gave way to grassy slopes and nearby buildings. 

Immediately upon seeing the town, Twilight’s conjecture about an anti-chaos charm was proven correct. All the buildings were solidly planted on the ground, the sky above was clear blue just like over the Everfree, and not a single item appeared to be randomizing.

It was profoundly unsettling, and the reactions from her traveling companions indicated they felt much the same.

“Whoa!” Rainbow exclaimed. “There’s been lulls in Chaos before, but… this is just weird.”

“In my native land I’ve seen my share,” Zecora agreed, “but in Discordia this is unlike anywhere!”

Trying to shake off the feeling, Twilight took the lead and began trotting toward the town center, where they library was often nearby. “Come on,” she said, “the quicker we get there the quicker we can figure out what Celestia might be planning.”

And how to get rid of all this Order, she added silently. 

As they passed through town, it was apparent that most of the locals didn’t quite know what to make of this newfound stability in their home. A trio of flower-shop mares were clustered around a fresh arrangement, jabbering excitedly about the implications of being able to sell a product without it changing form later. A streetside grocer kept poking his wares in confusion, as if expecting them to grow legs or turn into something inedible. One older pony was ranting at his house, something about how he “never would have painted it that color if it was gonna stay that way.”

Internally, Twilight found herself agreeing with the latter. 

“So… how are you planning on finding this magic spell stuff in a book?” Rainbow asked dubiously. “Aren’t they all just filled with random stuff all the time?”

“Have you ever read a book?” Twilight asked in return.

“Of course I—”

“Then you’d know they’re one of the things the Emperor approves for weak anti-chaos spells,” Twilight continued, cutting off Rainbow’s retort. “Sure, some arrangements of letters and words might change, but the overall message is usually kept intact unless the charm wears off.”

Rainbow huffed in response. “Not the ones I’ve read. None of them made any sense, except the ones with pictures.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. Thankfully, she spotted the library around the next corner and quickly rushed up the path and the porch steps.

“Hopefully I should be able to find it quick,” she commented as she pushed open the door of the library, “If I recall correctly, there’s an old volume on gem-spells by—”

She cut off in surprise. Sitting in the middle of the library proper were Rarity and Pinkie Pie, frozen as if they’d been caught with their hooves in the cookie jar. On the desk in front of them lay a small book and a quill.

Both ponies shot to all fours and a burst of teal magic flipped the book shut. “T-Twilight?” Rarity said haltingly. “Um, well… Fancy meeting you here!” A forced smile painted itself across her face. 

It took a moment for Twilight to do more than blink in confusion. “Um, yeah,” she replied after a moment. Something was profoundly awkward about the situation she’d walked into. “So… what are you two doing here?” she asked, mentally trying to prepare herself in case another unpleasant confrontation might be incoming.

“Oh, you know, just catching up on some reading,” Rarity said brightly. From behind her, a pink hoof appeared over the tabletop and began inching the small book out of sight.

The suspicious motion immediately caught Twilight’s attention. “Oh, really?” she said casually, suddenly realizing she’d caught the pair off-guard instead of the other way around. Deftly, she seized the book in her magic and yanked it toward her. “Reading what, exactly?”

“Twilight NO!” Pinkie cried, flailing uselessly at the airborne tome. Rarity gasped in apparent horror.

“What?” Twilight responded, unable to keep a smug, faux-innocent undertone out of her voice. “Were you reading something you shouldn’t have bee—”

Her words cut off with a strangled choking noise as she suddenly realized why Rarity and Pinkie looked so guilty. Without a doubt, the book hovering in front of her couldn’t have come from any shelf in the library, nor any collection in Discordia.

This book, she’d brought here herself.

“...What is this?” she asked, turning her journal toward the two other mares.

“Twilight, please,” Rarity began, “We didn’t—” 

“Didn’t WHAT?!” Twilight snapped, her words now saturated with barely contained rage.

Face full of chagrin, Pinkie Pie stepped around the desk and began to approach. “Twilight…”

“No!” Twilight shouted, gesturing at the journal. “This— this isn’t okay!”

“But—”

“I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT!” she shrieked. A discarded bookbag caught her eye, and she snatched it up, tucking the journal safely inside. “These are my private thoughts! MINE! You have no right to see them!”

She looked down, trying to secure the latch on the bag and figure out the strap. Her vision was swimming in red, making her struggle with the crude mechanism. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rainbow Dash and Zecora frozen in the doorway, mouths agape. 

Without warning, there was a flash of bright color and something wrapped around her neck and shoulders. Somehow Pinkie had managed to cross the room in almost no time and before Twilight could speak, react, or even think, had wrapped her in a tight hug. 

“I’m sorry.”

Had it been any other pony, Twilight would have responded with a hoof to the face. But there was something about Pinkie in that moment that inexplicably negated the violent reaction. Her voice was quiet and sincere, her touch calm and comforting, firm yet gentle.

Twilight pushed back against the feeling, trying to reignite the self-righteous fire in her voice. “They’re my thoughts!” she protested again, yet even as she fought she felt the white-hot anger being drawn out of her. The fire faltered, smothered by the hug. “They’re m-mine…” she repeated, the words coming out as a whimper this time. “That’s… how I cope…”

“I know and I’m sorry,” Pinkie said again. 

“T-that…” Twilight managed to stammer, “that doesn’t make it…”

“Make it right?” Pinkie finished. She released the hug. “No… it doesn’t. I just hope someday you can forgive us.”

Pointedly ignoring the last sentence, Twilight pulled away and put some distance between herself and the others. She busied herself with the bookbag, untangling the strap and wrapping it around herself

“How…” she said slowly, trying not to let her voice crack or tremble again. “How much did you read?”

“We read enough, darling,” Rarity said, stepping forward. “Things have been hard here, but I daresay you’ve had it just as bad as any of us. Worse, if we’re counting those awful games Discord played on you.”

The image of a single gold coin flashed into Twilight’s brain. She shook her head and growled, trying to banish the memory. “Just—” She waved a hoof in Rarity’s direction. “Just stop. I don’t want your sympathy, okay?” 

Rarity and Pinkie both glanced at each other, then nodded. “All right,” Rarity replied, “I understand.”

“Fair enough,” Pinkie added, then looked around to where Zecora and Rainbow were still standing awkwardly by the door. “What are you three doing here anyway?”

“Looking for a book,” Rainbow said, seemingly relieved to change the subject. “Something about gemstone magic.”

“Gemstones? Whatever for?” Rarity asked.

“Well, it’s a long story…” 

Likewise grateful for the shift in topic, Twilight sniffled discretely while making a beeline for the nearest shelf. She began skimming the titles, which incredibly seemed to be arranged by title and roughly grouped by subject. 

This must have been the way the books were last shelved before being randomized, she theorized as her eyes passed Arcterra, Alwing, Anselhorn: An Abiding Amber Adornment. While the idea that the placement of un-randomized items could be restored by an anti-chaos spell was not unheard-of, it was rarely observed in any meaningful way. Of course in the Discordian alphabet the letters themselves had no given order, but it was somewhat convenient to have all the A’s in one place at least.

Gradually she became aware of a presence nearby and glanced up from the seemingly endless row of books. Pinkie Pie was a few strides away, silently scanning another section of the shelves.

“Do you even know what you’re looking for?” Twilight asked.

The words came out a little more bitter than intended, but if Pinkie noticed she didn’t react. “I’ve got a general idea,” she replied. “Rainbow said ‘gemstone magic’ and I’m pretty sure I’ve seen something like that in here.”

Twilight made a noncommittal ‘hmph’ in response and returned to her own search.

She pretended to be thoroughly focused, but the minimal attention actually required left her mind free to wander. Her reaction to the hug was still bothering her; she couldn’t figure out what had managed to defer all her anger so quickly, and why she still couldn’t bring herself to be more than mildly perturbed by Pinkie and Rarity’s actions.

A few minutes passed before she couldn’t bear to wonder anymore. “How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“That,” Twilight said. “How did you make me… not angry with you?”

“Actually, it’s something Fluttershy taught me,” Pinkie said. “She says sometimes everypony just needs a hug.”

Twilight’s face screwed into a confused expression. “But… how? I didn’t want a hug.”

“Fluttershy says that’s usually when you need it most.” Pulling a book off the shelf, Pinkie began flicking pages. She giggled. “Ha! I’m not even a unicorn and I know that’s a stupid trick.”

The non-sequitur broke Twilight’s pattern. She tilted her head sideways, and quickly recognized Lulamoon’s Tricks and Secrets for the Magical Novice. Instantly her brain was transported two nights previous, when she’d first returned to Ponyville. At least, she thought was two nights worth. Involuntarily, she chuckled at the memory. “Turn to Chapter Rosebloom,” she said. “I think you’ll like that one.”

Pinkie flicked several pages. “There’s no named chapters, they’re all numbers.”

Oh right, Twilight thought. “Um… Chapter 7 then, I think?”

Flipping backward this time, Pinkie quickly reached the suggested spot. Almost instantly she snorted and had to cover her mouth with one hoof to avoid guffawing.

Even stifled, Pinkie’s laugh was contagious and Twilight found herself biting her tongue to keep from cracking up. She’d almost forgotten how laughable the “secrets” were. 

“Oh, that’s a good one,” Pinkie said, wiping a tear from her eye. She clasped the book between both hooves and reared back to replace it on the shelf, then looked over at Twilight. Her smile remained, but turned slightly melancholy. “I really am sorry, by the way.”

The laughter died in Twilight’s chest, but surprisingly it wasn’t replaced by anger or hurt. Rather, a sense of resignation settled on her shoulders and she sighed. “Then why did you do it?” she asked.

“I’m really not sure.” Pinkie frowned. Twilight was struck by how out-of-place the expression was. “I guess… we both needed to know, y’know? And… I’m not sure about Rarity, but… I think I get it.”

The words stung, and Twilight felt the bitter hurt creep back into her heart. “How?” she said. “You’re Miss Happy-Go-Lucky, how could you begin to know what I’ve been through?”

Pinkie’s countenance fell, and it almost seemed as if her fluffy cotton-candy mane deflated a bit. “Not always,” she said softly. “I know what it’s like to feel all alone inside, like nopony gives a flying feather if you live or die.”

The words struck a chord and it took all of Twilight’s willpower not to succumb. She clenched her jaw and blinked vigorously, clinging to her wounded pride as if her life depended on it. 

“It’s okay to hurt, you know,” Pinkie said after a moment of silence, “that’s how you tell the good from the bad.” She let the words hang in the air, turning back to the shelf and continuing to scan titles. 

It took a few moments for Twilight to compose herself. So far everypony she’d met had been angry, upset, or vengeful about what had happened all those weeks ago. Everypony except Pinkie, for some reason. It honestly wasn’t the reaction she’d been expecting, although to be honest she hadn’t known what to expect from Pinkie in the first place. 

“…then she touched Twilight’s horn, and I guess did some sort of mind-reading spell—”

Rainbow’s voice cracked into Twilight’s head, reminding her that there still were ponies who didn’t understand. “Mind-meld,” she corrected automatically. “We shared thoughts.”

“Yeah, that,” Rainbow agreed. “That’s how we found out her name is ‘Celestia’. After she left…”

The story faded into the background once more, and Twilight resumed searching the shelves Pinkie appeared to be skipping. Periodically she cracked open promising-sounding titles, only to be disappointed. N.C. Storycraft’s Night Mares: Encounters with the Old Ones covered the right time period, but turned out to be pretentious speculative fiction. Secret Messages in Crystals had a section on gem harmonics, but it devolved quickly into pseudo-intellectual drivel. 

After several more minutes, she determined that of the set of ponies in Discordia who could read, only a small set lived near Ponyville and even fewer still had any serious interest in gemstone magic or ancient legends. Despite still having several shelves to go, she was about to give up when Rainbow’s voice interjected again. 

“…and that’s why Twilight brought us here, to try and figure out what Celestia wants with gemstones from the Tree of Harmony.”

“Well I can’t say I’ve read any books about using gems for magic,” Rarity said, “but I do hope you find something. Whatever she and Princess Luna are planning, it would do well to be prepared.”

“Did you say ‘Princess Luna’?” Twilight asked, tearing her eyes away from the shelf. 

“Yes, she addressed the whole town some time ago and that’s the name she used.” Rarity’s countenance darkened. “Also… you might as well know sooner rather than later…”

Her voice trailed off, but even the subtlety-challenged Rainbow Dash detected her reluctance. “What? What’s wrong?”

Rarity bit her lip briefly and glanced apprehensively at Zecora. “It’s Fluttershy. We… we think Princess Luna took her.”

Zecora’s jaw dropped and one of her front legs nearly buckled. “Nothing yet said has possibly been worse! Why did you not think to tell me this first!?”

“I’m sorry dear, I was trying to think of a way to break it to you,” Rarity said hurriedly. “Besides, we don’t know if she did, we only suspect. She could still be somewhere in town...”

Despite the attempted softening of the blow, Twilight felt her heart skip a beat at Rarity’s revelation. Fluttershy was the most tender and vulnerable of them all; the thought of her being imprisoned in the cold, unyielding cells of the Sky-Mares’ dungeon was almost unbearable. 

“You said you don’t know,” Twilight said, “so where else could she be?”

“That’s just it,” Rarity admitted. “We’ve checked practically everywhere. The last time we saw her she was talking with Princess Luna, and then after the Princess left she was just gone.”

“But why was she talking to the Night-Mare at all?” Zecora exclaimed. “She should have known what danger could befall!”

“We don’t know that either—” Rarity began.

“FOUND IT!”

Everypony started and looked to Pinkie Pie, who was holding a non-descript book aloft between both hooves. 

“As soon as Rainbow Dash said ‘gemstones’ I knew I’d seen it before,” Pinkie continued, sliding the book along the floor toward Twilight. “I read it a few months ago when Spike got those really bad cravings. Remember that, Rarity?”

“Oh goodness, do I ever!” Rarity rolled her eyes and raised a hoof to her horn. “I was sore for days…”

“A Spellcaster’s Guide to Crystalline Amplification and Focusing,” Twilight intoned, reading off the cover. She flipped the book open. A moment later, she felt wings hovering over her left shoulder.

“See?” Rainbow said, pointing at the page. “Gibberish, like I said.”

Twilight placed her own hoof under the paragraph Rainbow had pointed at. “Another compelling quandary in this area is the differentiation of distributed latticeworks,” she read. “Even though conventional wisdom states that this obstacle may be solved by frequency emulation, we believe that a different solution is necessary as hardstones have a long history of interfering in this manner.”

Rainbow sputtered for a moment, then scoffed. “Well it’s not like that makes any sense,” she said, hovering away. 

“Actually it does,” Twilight replied, continuing to scan pages. “Mmhmm… yes… yes! This is exactly what I was looking for! With this, I think I’ll be able to figure out what Celestia is going to do with those gems.”

“That shall not be necessary,” a new voice interjected.

All heads whirled toward the source of the voice. At first, Twilight saw only an empty floor in the far corner of the library, but then her eyes caught it: An indistinct shape shimmering in the air, like a statue made of glass. A moment later the glass seemed to melt away, leaving Princess Celestia’s towering form plainly visible.

For Twilight time seemed to freeze. She saw the visage of the princess, but her brain refused to accept it. This had to be a trick, a hallucination. From somewhere behind her, she heard a sharp intake of breath.

“ALICOR—! ”

Golden magic illuminated Celestia’s horn and Pinkie’s voice cut off in mid-shriek, but it was enough to spur the others. Rarity screamed and made a beeline for the door. Rainbow Dash rocketed into the air, wings straining for the nearest window. Astonishingly, Zecora reared and gave a tribal battle cry before charging at Celestia. Twilight herself was halfway through the mental preparation for a teleportation spell, when Celestia’s horn flared again.

“CEASE!”

Twilight’s spell failed instantly as shimmering gold light enveloped her. The shock made her stomach drop. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rainbow Dash stop cold, frozen in mid-air. Rarity and Zecora likewise were halted in place, wrapped in Celestia’s magic.

Unable to move, struggle, or even speak, Twilight could only watch in passive horror as everypony was slowly dragged into the center of the room and forcibly rotated to face Celestia. They were dolls, mere playthings at the mercy of a terrible goddess.

For a moment Celestia appeared to study their terror-stricken faces in silence. Finally she spoke.

“There is no need to fear us, little ponies,” she said, voice firm yet somehow soothing, “for we come not to hurt nor capture. Still thyselves, and we shall release thee.”

The field around Twilight weakened, and she felt herself regain partial movement in her limbs. Celestia was looking down at her expectantly, so Twilight nodded. Immediately she felt the spell release her as the golden glow dissipated. In turn, Celestia looked to each of the others, releasing them once she received an affirmative response.

“Now,” Celestia said as the last bubble of magic vanished, “we perceive there are many questions you may wish to ask, but—”

The words were cut short by a violent stomp from Zecora. “Tell me, where is Fluttershy?” she snapped. “Your sister has taken her, you cannot deny!”

“Zecora!” Rarity gasped, glancing at Celestia in preemptive horror. “We don’t know that for sure; you can’t just—”

“I have seen the way that alicorn acts,” Zecora snarled; “she would hurt without thought, and that is a fact!”

Celestia’s eyes narrowed. “Speak not ill of our sister,” she said coldly. “The truth of this thing is not yet known to us, but we shall discover it. For now, know that if any harm comes to thy friend, it shall be made right.”

Zecora glowered but apparently heard the note of finality in Celestia’s voice and didn’t retort. 

“As we were saying,” Celestia continued, “thy questions must be set aside, for an hour of reckoning is close at hoof, and swift our preparations must be.”

Although Celestia’s voice was even and calm, Twilight somehow felt she knew better than that. Some of the feelings and memories from her time inside Celestia’s mind had gradually been solidifying and separating, becoming more clear. Those feelings seemed to give her a window, a little extra insight that the others didn’t have yet, and she sensed the subtle emotion in the words. 

The Princess was afraid. 

“Discord,” Twilight breathed, her heart skipping a beat. If Celestia was afraid, that meant the Emperor’s arrival was probably even more imminent than previously thought. Twilight inexplicably felt a pang of emotion at the idea. It almost felt like melancholy for the impending destruction of Harmony and Order.

That doesn’t make any sense, she thought. If anything I should be happy— 

“Yes, Discord,” Celestia repeated, intruding into Twilight’s thoughts. She looked visibly perturbed now. “Our sister’s actions have drawn the eye of Chaos, and we must act swiftly if we are to prevail.”

A motion caught Twilight’s eye. She glanced over to see Pinkie Pie raising one hoof in the air, apparently asking permission to speak.

“Yes?”

“So when you say ‘we’...” Pinkie said slowly. “What kinda ‘we’ are we talking about?”

Celestia tilted her head curiously. “We are not sure what you mean.”

“Exactly! I mean, there’s ‘we’ and then there’s ‘we.’” Pinkie first motioned to herself, then to the entire group as she spoke. “It’s confusing, right?”

A flash of understanding seemed to cross Celestia’s face. “You would prefer if we— if I did not refer to… me… as many?”

Pinkie nodded enthusiastically.

“I admit it would make it easier to understand you,” Rainbow agreed, nervously rubbing one foreleg against the other. 

“Very well.” Celestia took a deep breath as if re-centering. “My sister’s actions will doubtless have gained Discord’s attention, and I am forced to act now so we may succeed in defeating him.”

“You did it again! You said ‘we’ when you meant—”

“Wait Pinkie, allow me to clarify,” Rarity said, raising a hoof to interrupt. “Are you saying we…” she also motioned to the entire group “…have to defeat Discord?”

Celestia nodded solemnly. “Yes, and it is for this purpose we— I have followed here: To ask for thy help.”

A collective gasp emanated from everypony in the room. Rainbow Dash’s jaw dropped open. Zecora stood frozen in place, staring at Celestia. Pinkie Pie’s mouth kept working silently, one hoof gesticulating slightly. Rarity glanced around nervously, seemingly unaware of how to respond and hoping in vain to get some clue from the others.

For Twilight, she couldn’t seem to get her brain functioning. Although it was rare, active sedition was one of the few things the Emperor took seriously enough to have a definite punishment for. Being only an agent in training, Twilight had never enforced those punishments but she had heard of them: Ponies taken and thrown into pocket universes of pure chaos, doomed to wander forever until their minds broke.

And here in the middle of Ponyville, Celestia, the Day-Mare, was blatantly asking for help to dethrone Emperor Discord. Even in a world ruled by Chaos, this was teetering on madness.

“Okay!”

All heads swiveled again to Pinkie Pie, who was now grinning widely. 

“What?” she asked. “Sure it’s crazy, but since when did crazy not mean at least a little fun?”

“Hold up,” Rainbow said, “you can’t just defeat Discord. He’s the Emperor! It’d be like me trying to lift a mountain!”

“Quite right dear,” Rarity agreed. “And even if we were agreeable to the idea—” she shot a withering glance at Pinkie “— how would we do such a thing?”

Zecora appeared to regain some of her composure, and nodded at Rarity’s statement. “Though to be free of Chaos I would not mind, a reason and a plan I would wish to find.”

The faintest hint of a smile teased at the corners of Celestia’s mouth. Immediately Twilight was struck at how the nearly imperceptible change softened the harsh, serious lines of the princess’s face. In that moment she seemed warm, welcoming, almost maternal. 

“Dearest ponies,” Celestia said, the visible warmth carrying over into her voice, “wonder not, for I have seen thy hearts. I know the object of thy deepest desires: To be free of Chaos and spread the joy of Harmony to every soul. Were this not true, I would not stand before thee today.”

Stunned silence fell over the room again, but only for a moment.

“What are you talking about?” Rainbow cried incredulously. “Some of us haven’t even met you, and you think you can just tell us what we all want?”

“Indeed.” The growing smile spread across Celestia’s face. “For it has been shown to me in purest truth, that which doth not lie.”

“But, wha— how?!” Rarity asked, stuttering and flustered.

Celestia raised a hoof and pointed to Twilight. “By her.”
> Chapter 13
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fluttershy screamed and cowered as another chunk of stone slammed into the wall next to her.

“How could they escape? How!?”

The iron bars of a nearby door crumpled. Princess Luna growled and turned to the adjacent dividing wall.

“It's just! Not! Fair!”

With each punctuated word a brick was ejected, shattering on the wall behind. Ricocheting debris rained down on Fluttershy’s head and she squeezed even tighter into the corner of the cell. “No! Please!” she wailed.

“Oh, for the love of Celestia, STOP your incessant WHINING!” Part of the wall next to Fluttershy’s head exploded. The ragged chunk of brick and mortar zoomed past Luna’s shoulder as she reared back into the throw.

Fluttershy bit down on her lip, turning the scream in her throat to a mere whimper. She squeezed her eyes shut and covered her face with both forelegs, waiting for the thrown brick to strike.

But it never came. After a few seconds, she peeked one eye open.

The princess was standing with hooves spread wide. Her head was down by her knees, ethereal mane drooping forward over her face. Her sides heaved, and each great breath blew clouds of dust and dirt from the floor under her nostrils. Gradually her breathing slowed, then her back legs buckled and she slumped to her haunches. The brick floating next to her shoulder dropped to the ground with a loud clunk.

“Ahem.” Luna cleared her throat and tossed her head back. The ethereal mane didn’t behave exactly like hair, but seemed to follow in slow motion as it fell back into place. She stared at the wall for a few seconds.

“Forgive my little… outburst,” she said. Her voice was cool and casual, without a hint of the unbridled rage it held mere moments ago.

Fluttershy didn’t lower her trembling forelegs. Her heart was galloping erratically and her breath came in shallow gasps.

“As is most likely apparent,” Luna continued, “I seem to have a slight anger problem.” She stood up and kicked away the brick. “It isn’t so easy to remain composed when one’s plans are continually thwarted, you see.”

The kick drew a gasp from Fluttershy, and she cowered again.

The gasp made the princess pause. She glanced briefly down to the deadly chunk of stone. “Did you really think…?”

“…Yes!” The word squeaked out of Fluttershy’s throat, barely audible.

Luna made a noise that was half derisive snort, half mirthless laughter. “Oh, hardly. I need you and there is still a battle to win, as you may recall.”

Fluttershy’s heart redoubled its galloping pace. In the terror of the moment she’d forgotten Luna’s reason for bringing her here in the first place.

“Without you, I would be without one Element of Harmony, and I’m not sure a suitable replacement could be found in time.” Luna shook her head. “No, no… I need you healthy and well to play your part.”

It was too much for Fluttershy to bear. “B-but how?!” she wailed, the words escaping unbidden. Fresh tears brimmed in her eyes. “I… I don’t know what you want me to do!”

“Shh, hush now…” Luna said, stepping forward and kneeling next to Fluttershy. Her voice was suddenly gentler. The words carried at least a veneer of kindness. “Shhh, shhh… quiet now, it’s okay…” Deep blue magic reached out to stroke Fluttershy’s dusty and tousled mane, brushing the strands behind her ear. “You’ll know how when the time comes.”

“B-but…” Fluttershy whimpered again. In spite of herself, she soaked up the superficial comfort. “I’m just me! I take care of little animals, I help ponies! I can’t f-fight!” The tears were rolling now as the sheer horrible impossibility of such a task crushed down on her. “And w-what if—”

“Shhh…”

There was a subtle shift in Luna’s magic. Fluttershy felt it press her mouth closed and tighten around her throat. Her eyes widened.

“You can, and you will,” Luna said in a venomous near-whisper. “Everything depends on you and your friends fulfilling the measure of your creation. If you don’t…” she glanced at the brick she’d kicked away, then back to Fluttershy “Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

Fluttershy nodded immediately, but to her horror the pressure on her throat did not lessen.

“Now,” Luna continued, “there are things I must do. Your friends have escaped; if we are to prevail I must find where they’ve gone. Only when all the Elements are gathered will the circle be complete, and we will defeat the Lord of Chaos as he defeated us.”

The words sounded hollow, faint. Fluttershy blinked and shook her head. Blood was pounding in her ears and her vision had started to go dim around the edges until all she could see was the princess’s maniacal, predatory smile. She struggled for breath, trying to get stave off the blackness.

“Of course I can’t have you escaping while I’m working... so I think it’s time to lay that sleepy head to rest. Sweet dreams, my little Element.”

Unable to resist any longer, Fluttershy slipped into cold, empty nothingness.





“I don’t understand why you can’t just tell me what it is,” Applejack grumbled.

“Believe me, you gotta see for yourself,” Spike said. He passed the second floor landing and made for the attic stairs. “C’mon,”

Nonplussed, Applejack followed at a trot with Apple Bloom in tow. She almost had to take the steps two at a time to keep up.

At the top of the stairs, she coughed and squinted. Spike had kicked up faint clouds of dust in his wake and was now standing at the far end of the attic near the open gable window. He motioned her over. “Look!”

Applejack obliged. Like Fluttershy and Zecora’s cabin, the Apple family farmhouse was situated near the boundary edge separating the Everfree Forest from Ponyville and held a commanding view of both locales. From the higher vantage of the attic, she would be able to look over the tops of most trees and buildings, several miles out. Whatever Spike wanted to show her, it would definitely be visible from here.

The sun was still bright overhead and it took her eyes a few moments to adjust. True to Rainbow’s description, a dome of sky above Ponyville was bright, clear blue, as if the influence of the Everfree had covered the town like a bubble. Beyond that, patchwork chaos dominated the horizon in random splotches of pattern and color.

But those things she’d expected to see. It was the next which made her breath catch: Out in the direction of the old castle a darkness was rising. It swallowed the horizon like an empty hole, sucking the sunlight into a formless void so black she could barely comprehend it.

She tried to speak but no words came. None seemed sufficient to break the grip of terror suddenly clutching at her throat.

Something brushed her side. The sensation was just enough to make her tear her eyes away and glance down.

It was Apple Bloom. She was standing on her back legs to peer over the edge of the window sill. Her eyes widened and she gasped upon seeing the darkness over the forest. “Throw my shoes!”

Applejack couldn’t bring herself to chide Apple Bloom for the curse. Looking back to the forest she forced herself to swallow the terror. “You said it...” she muttered.

She felt Spike pull himself up on a box next to her. “That’s not the half of it,” he said, pointing. “Look.”

Applejack’s eyes followed. She hadn’t thought it possible, but the terror rose again even stronger: In the faint distance a surge of chaos was sweeping toward them, rolling over the landscape, a portal into some unknown dimension that swirled and twisted in ways her mind simply would not accept. It might as well be dismantling reality itself in its wake.

“What… what is it?” Apple Bloom’s voice was thin and quavering.

“It means she was right,” Applejack whispered.

“What?”

“Twilight was right.” she repeated, turning away from the window and striding toward the stairs. The chaotic energy was a long way off, but the rising blackness seemed like it would reach Ponyville in a matter of minutes. When those two forces met, she didn’t want friends or family anywhere near. “C’mon, we gotta get. Now.”

Spike and Apple Bloom took one last panicked glance out the window before following Applejack. Claws and hooves alike scrambled over the dusty floorboards. “But I haven’t got-” Spike began.

“No time,” Applejack snapped as she rounded the second floor landing. “Grab packs from the closet, get blankets, boots, and whatall other travelin’ gear or food you can carry. Meet me at the barn!”

She took the last five steps in a single running bound and threw her shoulder against the front door. The latch shattered.

Without missing a step she galloped across the yard and within moments had reached the barn. She reared back and drove both forehooves into the locking crossbeam, snapping it in half and swinging both doors inward.

The cows were mingling aimlessly inside, and all of them jumped at Applejack’s entry. They stared slack-jawed at the destroyed beam.

“Land sakes Applejack!” Big Darla said. She struggled to her hooves, favoring the wrapped, bruised leg from what seemed like ages ago. “What in the world— ”

“Listen,” Applejack interrupted, “We got two angry alicorn princesses and Emperor Discord himself ‘bout to start a brawl right on top of Ponyville. I can’t promise you’re gonna be safe here, so you gals gotta leave.”

Ignoring the stunned looks from all around the barn, Applejack rushed to the few pull-carts stashed along the sidewall. She began pulling harnesses and straps into place. “Now, you can use these carts to haul your pers’nal effects, travelin’ gear, and whatever feed you can carry. I recommend headin’ to Westfoal or further.”

The cows glanced at each other, waiting for one to take charge and agree to the sudden instructions. Applejack’s urgency had them spooked; they’d never known her to exaggerate even in times of emergency, and this was possibly the most serious they’d ever seen her. Still, cows were by nature a bit on the slow side and generally preferred to “wait and see” rather than take action.

Applejack didn’t have the patience for that. “C’mon girls!” she urged. “You can either sit here an’ get caught in the biggest throw-down in history, or you can saddle up an’ go, but it’s gotta be now!”

A few more nervous glances passed around the group. Finally one stepped forward. Bella was the largest cow who’d ever stayed at the Apple farm, boasting almost a full ponyweight over Big Darla. She was also the most junior of them, having started less than a year ago, but this time was the first to take initiative. “Alright then,” she said, “time’s a wastin’ AJ; yoke me up to that big cart.”

One by one, the rest of the cows followed suit. Some began gathering personal belongings into saddlebags, others went straight to the feed storage and started grabbing sacks of grain to load into the carts.

The barn came alive with bustling activity. Clarabell, the tipsy cow from the other night, nudged Applejack’s shoulder. “Thanks for thinkin’ of us,” she said. “Some other farms I’ve been on would have abandoned all us stock. Just know when everything’s over, I’ll be happy to come back if I can.”

“Me too AJ,” Bella said, stepping into the harness. “If this barn’s still standing, you can bet I’ll be here.”

Applejack smiled; considering the cows held most of the negotiating power in their business relationship it was nice to know she’d built a place they’d want to return to. “An’ I’ll be happy to have y’all. Now come on; let’s get loaded up.”





Twilight stood in shock. Everypony was staring at her expectantly, their faces betraying emotions from confusion to intrigue to disbelief. It took more than a little effort to keep her composure with so many eyes boring into her.

“I don’t understand,” she said. She kept her gaze focused on Celestia. “How have I ‘shown you their hearts’?”

“When thoughts were shared between me and thee,” Celestia replied. “Thy memories of these, thy friends, held no room for error.”

A soft scoff came from Twilight’s left. “’Friends’ is a pretty strong word,” Rainbow said under her breath, just loud enough for Twilight to hear.

Apparently Celestia heard the jab as well. She turned and frowned. “I am surprised at thee, Rainbow Dash. For one so seemingly loyal, thou art quick to speak ill of thy friend.”

Rainbow’s jaw dropped. She sputtered angrily for a moment. “Me?!” she exclaimed, pointing at Twilight. “She’s the one who stabbed us all in the back and sold us out to Discord!”

“Be that as it may—”

“Buck that!” Rainbow shouted.

Rarity gasped in horror, looking at Celestia as if she expected the princess to bring down divine wrath on the insolent pegasus.

“She doesn’t get a pass on this!” Rainbow continued. turning on Twilight now. “It’s your fault everything went wrong! You think you can just come back all hurt and play the victim? Over my dead body! You’re not special! Just because you’re the Emperor’s student, doesn’t give you the right to walk in and ruin everypony’s life!”

Even Zecora looked taken aback now. Pinkie Pie was wincing as if she were in actual pain.

Twilight just stood, hooves rooted to the floor as she bore the brunt of the verbal assault.

Rainbow’s mouth opened again, but no more words came. Suddenly she deflated and slouched back on her haunches. “I wish you’d never come here,” she said quietly. “I wish I’d never met you.”

Stunned silence fell over the room for a moment, broken only by a soft sniffle from Rainbow.

“Be that as it may,” Celestia repeated, voice firm, “our time is short. Even now the Lord of Chaos himself descends on this place, ready to destroy all who stand defiant. Only the magic of Harmony can defeat him.”

“You speak of Harmony which we know from lore,” Zecora said, “but it was not enough to defeat him before.”

Celestia’s mouth worked silently a few times before she spoke. “The first time, we were not prepared,” she admitted. Then she squared her shoulders. “But now the advantage is ours. We know he is coming, and this time we have the Elements of Harmony!”

A flash of golden magic illuminated the room, and five large gemstones appeared above Celestia’s head. Each was larger than a pony’s hoof, and all appeared to be glowing with internal light or magic.

Rarity gasped. “Oh my! They’re absolutely gorgeous, but…”

“What are they?” Pinkie finished, one eyebrow raised.

“These are the Elements,” Celestia explained. “Each embodies an aspect of Harmony: Honesty, Laughter, Generosity, Loyalty, and Kindness.”

Suddenly tilting her head to the side, Rarity stepped forward and examined one of the gems more closely. “Um, if you don’t mind me saying so, that one appears to be cracked a bit.”

Celestia floated the gem closer for inspection and nodded. “Indeed. This was how it came to me, yet I cannot say why it would be thus.”

“So you’re going to use those to defeat Discord?” Rainbow asked, her voice tinged with bitter skepticism. “From what I’ve seen you and the Princess of Night aren’t exactly on the best of terms right now.”

A darkness seemed to pass over Celestia’s face. “In days past, my sister and I… we were not united. We relied on our own strength, and we were punished greatly for that foalishness. I hope to close that division, but in this moment I admit: we cannot hope to bear the elements ourselves. They must be borne by friends, pure in heart, who embody these aspects.”

Zecora stepped forward. “You are building to something, it’s plain to see,” she said. “Tell us who are these bearers, who might they be?”

The other ponies nodded and mumbled assent. They seemed restless, waiting for the implied revelation.

“I would suggest asking the one who knows best,” Celestia said. She again motioned a hoof toward Twilight.

It seemed to Twilight as if the floor had been dropped from under her hooves. “Wha— me?” she stammered, praying the tremor in her voice wouldn’t betray her. “What makes you think—”

Celestia frowned. “Make no trifle of this matter,” she warned. “Thou wrote of harmony in thine journal, and in letters to Discord. Tell thy friends who shall bear the Elements.”

Twilight knew the names Celestia wanted her to speak, but shook her head. “I… No,” she said, trying to puff out her chest in defiance. “I won’t.”

“But thou must,” Celestia said, her voice lowering dangerously. “All our futures depend on this.”

Twilight was about to open her mouth again when she suddenly felt a hoof on her shoulder. She turned with a start. Rarity was standing next to her, bearing a sympathetic smile.

“You don’t have to dear,” she said. “Pinkie and I read your last entry, before you sent the letter to Discord.”

Relief, panic, and horror simultaneously washed over Twilight.

“We’re the element bearers, aren’t we?” Rarity surmised, turning to face Celestia. “If I read correctly: Rainbow Dash is Loyalty, Fluttershy is obviously Kindness, and who else could be Laughter but…” she threw a sidelong grin and motioned at Pinkie, who shrugged modestly and smiled in return.

Rarity continued, “I can only guess that Applejack is Honesty, and…” She preened her mane as if preparing to have her portrait taken. “…If Twilight had anything to say about Generosity…”

Rainbow scoffed. “Good thing there’s no element of humility.”

Pinkie had to stuff a hoof in her own mouth to keep from guffawing.

Rarity scowled, but it was tinged with good-natured chagrin. “Yes, well…” She cleared her throat and turned to Celestia again. “So about ‘bearing’ these elements… is that a… physical effort thing?”

A guttural groan sounded and Zecora’s eyes nearly rolled out of her skull.

“In faith, I cannot say,” Celestia admitted, treating the question seriously. “The prophecy spoke only of the elements themselves, not the manner in which they would be used.”

“So what do you want us to do?” Rainbow asked dubiously. “I don’t exactly know how to ‘use’ a magic gem. Or any magic for that matter.”

Celestia shrugged. “Verily, I had hoped to try the simplest means first.” Her horn glowed brighter.

“Twitchy tail!” Pinkie cried out.

One of the gems, a deep red ruby with shimmering multicolored highlights, darted forward.

“Wait—!” Rainbow backpedaled a few steps. “What—”

Before she could finish speaking, the gem had flown through the air and reached her. Instinctively she raised her forelegs to catch it, and just as she did the golden glow of Celestia’s magic released. The gem seemed to surge briefly with light, bathing the room in a deep red glow. A moment later the light faded, but the gem continued pulsing with internal power.

“The element of Loyalty is embodied in thee, Rainbow Dash,” Celestia said, beaming. “I saw thy heart in the mind of Twilight Sparkle, when thou didst save her from certain death with no thought for thine own safety.”

The timberwolves. The memory came flooding back to Twilight with more detail than she’d ever recalled before. The terror, the growling of the wolves, the flash of color as Rainbow swooped in and saved her. How her quill trembled as she tried to pen a letter to the emperor, and later record the incident in her journal.

Slack-jawed, Rainbow looked from the gem, to Celestia, to the gem, to Twilight, and back again. Her momentary panic seemed to be replaced with awe. She hefted the gem between her hooves. “It’s lighter than it looks, and… it tingles.”

“Good tingles or bad tingles?” Pinkie asked. She was batting at her tail, which continued twitching sporadically.

“Good tingles… I think,” Rainbow said.

“Hmm…” Pinkie trotted over and eyed the glowing jewel with a raised eyebrow. “Where are they? My grannie once said if the tingles are everywhere it’s probably good, but if they’re in one place it’s usually baaad.” 

“Definitely all over,” Rainbow said with an enthusiastic nod.

Pinkie’s suspicious demeanor dispelled. “Well that’s good enough for me,” she exclaimed, turning to Celestia. “Harmonize me, Princess!”

Celestia chuckled. A light, aquamarine gem darted across the room, suspended in golden magic. Pinkie dove dramatically to catch it, and when the gem touched her hooves it briefly bathed the room in a deep blue glow.

“Whoa, you weren’t kidding,” she exclaimed. “This is better than a Fluttershy massage.”

“The element of Laughter,” Celestia noted. “I saw thee in Twilight Sparkle’s mind, using thy gift to ease suffering…”

The memory assaulted Twilight’s mind louder than spoken words. A drenching rain of hot coffee. Stumbling as she ran for cover, one foreleg plunging into a deep puddle of the scalding liquid. The intense burning, soon tempered by a cool spring deep in a cave and a liberal application of what Pinkie called “the best medicine.” She’d laughed until she cried, and it seemed her wound had healed all the faster for it.

She backed away from the group until her haunches met one of the bookshelves, where her knees grew weak and she slumped to a sitting position. “Oh Discord…” she gasped. She’d expected Celestia to engage in sedition and all-out war. She had even expected the use of magical gems forged from the cursed Tree of Harmony, but she hadn’t expected the princess to weaponize Twilight’s friends as literal conduits for the elemental forces of Harmony.

Somewhere in the distance muffled voices echoed. She tried to focus on the words, and realized Celestia was bestowing the element of Generosity on Rarity. Unbidden the memory came: She was standing in a cold town hall, warmed only by a weak fire and a hundred shivering bodies. For hours she’d helped distribute Rarity’s hastily-crafted blankets until she was nearly numb from the chill, but finally the last pony was warmed and Twilight had received her own fluffy patchwork blanket.

As her vision went blurry around the edges, she let her mind drift to the blanket that still resided in the upstairs bedroom above the library, and pulled it close to her body. With the local suppression of Chaos magic, the fabric had defaulted to some kind of geometric floral arrangement, instead of the constantly-shifting patterns it held before.

She squeezed her eyes shut, the day’s physical and mental fatigue flooding over her. Why couldn’t her life be as simple as this blanket? Paradoxically, Chaos seemed to be the one thing she could count on, while Harmony tore her apart inside.

Inexplicably, she felt somepony slide into the bed behind her. A warm chest pressed against her back and a snout nuzzled into her neck. A foreleg draped comfortingly around her torso, and something soft and feathery cradled her stomach.

She hummed appreciatively and scooted tighter against the newcomer for a moment before her brain came back to rational thought. Her eyes snapped open and glanced down to see a butter-yellow foreleg and wing wrapped around her. In the corner of her vision was the hint of a soft pink mane.

“…Fluttershy…?” she whispered.

“Shhh…” The voice that replied was icy cold and definitely not Fluttershy. “She’s sleeping.”

Twilight froze as solidly as if the voice had been a windigo breathing down her neck.

“Wha— What are you doing here?” she asked.

The voice scoffed. “You escaped and thought I wouldn’t come looking for you?”

Of course Twilight knew the princess would catch up to her eventually. She just hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

Her thoughts turned to the warm body nestled up against her. It hadn’t moved, and in hindsight she realized the limbs had wrapped around her unnaturally, mechanically. “What’s wrong with Fluttershy?” she demanded, more boldly than intended.

“You ponies are easier to manage when you’re unconscious,” the voice replied. “Besides, I always did like dolls. They’re far prettier and don’t talk back.”

Thoughts of Princess Luna puppeteering the meek Fluttershy around like a toy filled Twilight’s gut with nausea, and she shuddered in horror.

“I suppose you’re going to do the same to the rest of us?” she snapped, as revulsion gave way to anger. “Turn us into your puppets and force us to do your bidding against Discord in the name of ‘Harmony’?” She spat the last word.

“Better yet, how about I tell you what I’m not going to do?!” Luna snarled.

Deep blue magic wrapped around Twilight’s throat. The world spun as she was yanked into the air, then slammed onto her back. Even against the relatively soft mattress, the impact forced air out of her lungs in a violent huff.

A moment later the magic had tightened down, and she was unable to draw any breath.

The face of the Night-Mare appeared above her, eyes burning, mouth unevenly torn somewhere between a rictus grin and a sneer. “Three times you’ve made the foal of me, Twilight Sparkle!” she hissed. “Three times!”

Twilight pawed at her burning throat, but her hooves passed uselessly through the powerful magic that held her down. Her ears began to pound in time with her increasing heartbeat.

“I should choke the life out of you just on principle,” Luna said, “but I’m not going to. I’m not going to make you watch while I flay the hide from your friends. By the Heavenly Mother, I’m not even going to lock you in stone for a thousand years, like your precious Emperor did to ME!”

Light was fading from the edges of Twilight’s vision now. Her limbs felt heavy and listless. With an effort she turned her head to the side, just enough to see Fluttershy’s unconscious form sprawled awkwardly across the mattress.

A sudden jerk pulled her gaze back to center. Luna’s maniacal eyes drew closer to her own, pupils strangely dilated, almost vertical slits. Twilight wondered distantly if it was her oxygen-deprived brain playing tricks on her.

“But mark my words: You will suffer. Somehow or another, when this is all over, I’ll make sure of it.”

The magic released. Twilight sucked in air hard enough to make her throat raw, then curled up as hacking coughs wracked her chest.

Once she caught her own breath, she rolled onto her side and placed a hoof on Fluttershy’s chest. A gentle rise and fall, combined with the rapid pitter-patter of the pegasus’ heart assured her that Fluttershy would be okay for the moment.

She realized a moment later that Luna had vanished. With monumental effort, Twilight sat up and found herself sitting at the spot in front of the bookcase again. She tried to shake the cobwebs from her brain. Had she passed out or something?

A scream cut through the fog in Twilight’s brain, and the library finally came into clear focus again. A moment later she registered Rarity, Pinkie, Rainbow, and Zecora all scrambling to put as much space as possible between themselves and the library stairs, where Princess Luna had just appeared.

Princess Celestia was facing away from the stairs, but barely seemed to flinch at the new arrival. “Hello sister,” she said, turning to face Luna. “I was not expecting thee to rejoin us so soon.”

“Spare the platitudes,” Luna scoffed. “I see you’ve been busy collecting the Elements without me.”

Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, and Rarity all pulled their respective gems a little closer, whispering together. Zecora moved to stand slightly in front of them, head high and defiant.

Celestia nodded. “Our adversary approaches even as we speak; time is of the essence if we are to have any hope of victory.”

Twilight noticed that Celestia’s words seemed measured, cautious even.

Luna moved forward a few paces. “We had those two captive,” she said, motioning to Twilight and Rainbow, “and a third as well. I was on my way to capture another when they escaped under your watch, and now I find them here along with these… gems, which you have specifically failed to mention before now.”

Luna’s eyes narrowed. “Why do I feel we are suddenly working at cross-purposes, sister?”

The words lingered in the air, unanswered for several seconds. Twilight could see Princess Celestia’s jaw shifting and clenching before she finally spoke.

““Our previous efforts seemed to be... less than effective,” she said, slowly and deliberately. “The ways of Harmony preclude force, so allowing them to come to a natural understanding—”

Princess Luna’s armored hoof slammed into the floor hard enough to crack the wood and rattle shelves. “I KNEW IT! I knew you let them escape!” she cried. “Always! Always you know best, always you undercut me! By the heavens, Solaria! What will it take for you to humble yourself?!”

Everypony flinched and cowered. Silence fell over the room again, punctuated only by Luna’s enraged breathing.

Off to the side, Pinkie Pie’s ears perked up, and she looked quizzically between the princesses before breaking the silence. “Who’s Solaria?”

The white alicorn’s back visibly stiffened.

Luna’s breathing caught. “What?”

“You called her Solaria,” Pinkie said, “But everypony else calls her Celestia.”

Something rang familiar, and suddenly Twilight was back in the dungeon, sharing thoughts with the princess. ‘Celestia’ was the name that had impressed most strongly, although through the noise it hadn’t been clear if it was her true name, a title, or something else. Now Twilight could definitely say that ‘Solaria’ had been one of the other names floating subliminally around in her head.

It was then she noticed Princess Luna trembling.

“You took Her name?”

Celestia took a tentative step forward. “Sister, please understand… it was a complicated time—”

“You took. Her. NAME!” Luna screamed.

A loud BANG sounded through the library, followed by a deep, low reverberation.

At first Twilight thought the sound had been of Luna’s making, until Celestia whirled around.

“No!” Celestia cried, looking toward a high window. “No, no no!”

The princess disappeared with a golden flash, and the remaining two gems fell to the floor. The already-damaged gem cracked loudly, and additional hairline fractures spread through its core.


Twilight’s ears caught the sound of rematerialization just outside. Without hesitation she focused her own magic again, felt the familiar interdimensional pull, and found herself outside. Looking down the street, she gasped.

The house next to the library was in the process of being fully randomized. The walls had turned to taffy and were rapidly transitioning to wet leaves, the whole thing crumbling into a sloshing, sticky mess. Animals in the shapes of furniture struggled to free themselves from the muck. The roof had disintegrated into so many tiny rubber balls, bouncing around the street. The inhabitant of the house was crumpled on his knees, screaming as his coat turned into a patchwork of lollipops and brussel sprouts.

Above her, in the center of the blue sky was now something else. She couldn’t describe it. It seemed like the whole world had folded in on itself and split into a kaleidoscope of dimensions, each stranger than the last. It was some kind of hole or portal, a doorway into a multitude of incomprehensible realms of chaos.

A beam emanated from the swirling hole, aiming at another building. From somewhere nearby, a white-winged form swooped in and met it with a dome of brilliant golden magic.

“Forcurs thin módor, swivung mulbáern!” Celestia snarled, as the chaotic energy dissipated against her shield charm.

“Oh goodness, little sunbeam!” Discord tsk-tsked, appearing in the sky above. “Do you kiss your celestial mother with that mouth?”





The echoing bang made Applejack jump, nearly losing control of the teetering supplies she was roping down to the last cart. Apple Bloom, Spike, and the cows all flinched as well.

“Heavens to betsy!” Clarabell exclaimed.

“T’wern’t me.” Betsy pawed at the ground and snorted. “Honestly…”

“What was that?” Applebloom asked. The filly’s lip quivered as she spoke; she’d been keeping it together fairly well up until now, but the mounting urgency was beginning to wear on her.

Applejack lashed one final turn and spit out the end of the rope. In a few galloping bounds she reached the top of a nearby stack of hay bales and looked toward Ponyville.

“Oh no…” she breathed. Her insides clenched as if she’d been bucked in the stomach. In her mind she’d imagined there would be more time, opportunity to head back into town and warn everypony, urge her friends to come with her and get as far away as possible.

But the surge of chaotic energy was impossibly close now, far sooner than she’d expected. It had to be nearly directly over the town, beginning to block out the sun high above. Toward the Everfree a patch of impossible blackness seemed to be pushing against the chaotic energies, but was being held at bay.

“Spike?”

“Yeah?” The little dragon trotted over from the cart he’d just finished securing.

Applejack lept down from the hay bales and steered him away from the others. “Listen, Spike,” she said softly, “we’re all ready to go here, but there’s somethin’ I gotta take care of. I need you to lead the group to Westfoal as quickly as y’all can move. Take the wide path down by the river; it passes closer to the Everfree but it’s quicker, okay? I’ll catch up as soon as I can.”

Spike’s eyes widened and the spines on his back quivered as realization took hold.

“And one more thing…” Applejack glanced back toward Apple Bloom. “Do whatever it takes, but don’t you dare let my sister follow me or I’ll have your scales.”

“What—” Spike’s voice caught and he swallowed hard. “Whatever you say.”

“Good,” she said. “Now, get ‘em moving.”

As Spike jogged toward the head of the line, Applejack returned to her little sister. She ruffled a hoof through Apple Bloom’s mane. “Hey sugarcube.”

“Applejack…?” Apple Bloom’s voice was trembling unabashedly now. “What’s goin’ on?

Putting on her bravest face, Applejack smiled. “It’s alright,” she said. “Just looks like we gotta push on outta here sooner than we thought.”

Apple Bloom looked unconvinced, but she set her jaw and nodded, blinking back tears.

“Hey.” Applejack sat on her haunches and pulled the trembling filly into a tight embrace. “You’re gonna be just fine, don’t you worry.”

“If— if you say so…”  

The crack in the little voice nearly made Applejack lose control. She squeezed tighter. “I love you, little sis. No matter what happens, remember that.”

Apple Bloom stiffened and pulled away. “What?” Her shimmering eyes locked with Applejack’s own. “What do you mean, ‘no matter what happens’? We’re gonna be okay, right?”

Applejack winced inside, wishing with all her heart she could just spin some falsehood, something to keep her little sister from worrying. But it wasn’t her nature. She’d pushed against that nature too many times in the past couple days, and she simply couldn’t do it anymore.

“Well sugarcube… there’s some things I gotta do,” she said, measuring her words. “I’ve got some friends who’re probably in a mighty bad place, and I gotta help ‘em.”

It took only a moment for Apple Bloom to glance toward Ponyville, where the swirling vortex of chaotic energy was quickly becoming visible above the treeline from ground level. She whirled back, eyes wide. “But— but— No!”

As if on cue, Spike appeared by Apple Bloom’s side and grasped her ruck strap with one paw. With the other he gave a little salute to Applejack. “We’re moving,” he said flatly. True to his word, the short line of carts jostled and began to roll forward, each pulled by two cows.

“Applejack?” The little voice was edged with panic.

“I’m sorry sis,” Applejack said, stepping away from the carts. “I gotta go.”

Apple Bloom tried to follow, but Spike was already dragging her in the opposite direction. Her hooves dug into the earth, churning swaths of dirt and grass. “Applejack, no!” she cried. Tears began pouring down her cheeks.

It if were possible for a voice to tear a pony in half, it would have happened then. Applejack turned and began galloping fiercely toward Ponyville, Apple Bloom’s cries ringing in her ears.

It’ll be okay, she told herself. They’ll all be okay. They’ve got a head start, and Spike’s leading them. They’ll be okay.

“Don’t go!”

She turned her thoughts to the town ahead. Her friends were there. Fluttershy, Zecora, Pinkie Pie, Rarity, Rainbow Dash… Not to mention all the other denizens of Ponyville. They were the ones that needed her help now.

Twilight Sparkle would be there too.

Just the thought of the name was enough to make Applejack’s blood boil. Twilight, the one who’d left a trail of pain and broken friendships in her wake. Twilight, the one who’d come back on some mission for the Emperor. Twilight, the reason Applejack’s defenseless sister was screaming her little lungs out in terror. Twilight, the one to blame for all the misfortune and suffering.

She didn’t know what she’d do if she met that mare again, and part of her hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

Reaching the treeline, Applejack paused and glanced back. In the distance she could see Spike had hefted Apple Bloom bodily into one of the carts. The filly was fighting tooth and hoof, but the dragon was stronger despite his equitable size and held his ground easily.

“Come back, please!”

She couldn’t bear it any more. Turning back to the forest, she plunged into the underbrush toward Ponyville as one final heart-rending scream pierced the air.

“APPLEJACK!!!”


> Chapter 14
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Etst an scytel hwel thu steorfst!”

Celestia’s shield charm deflected another chaos spell seemingly targeted at nowhere in particular. The air crackled and popped with discharging energy.

“I don’t seem to remember you being this mouthy last time,” Discord mused, weaving a loop of yarn into complex, arguably impossible shapes. “Or having such a creative repertoire of vulgarity.”

The tangled yarn detached itself from Discord’s paw and darted away. It expanded to form something like a gaping mouth full of chomping teeth, bearing down hungrily on a group of ponies fleeing down the street.

With a pop of teleportation magic, Celestia appeared in the spell’s path and met it with a white-hot beam of light. The yarn-mouth howled in agony before disintegrating to ash.

“A millennium bound in stone lends time to thought,” she spat. Then her horn blazed, sending out a fireball. It would have blocked her from Discord’s sight, but from Twilight’s vantage she saw the princess teleport again, this time appearing directly behind her target.

“Look out!” Twilight shouted.

The draconequus pirouetted in mid-air, gracefully avoiding what would have been the simultaneous impact of the fireball and another searing magical beam. The two spells collided violently, errant arcs of flame scorching the pink leotard and tutu that had appeared during his elegant dodge.

“Oh, no! I was going to wear this at the recital!” He patted the smoldering embers then whirled on Twilight. “When this is over, we need to have a little chat about your ability to get things done.”

Twilight shrank before the accusation. There were no excuses; the whole fiasco was her fault, her failure, and she would pay bitterly for it.

“I’m sorry!” she cried, knowing the words were useless. “Please, let me help—”

“Just stay out of my way,” Discord snarled. He curled in on himself and teleported away just as another spell pierced the sky.

But the spell hadn’t been aimed at him. A wide, shimmering beam of golden light enveloped the house next to the library, and within seconds the randomization had stopped. Walls began rebuilding, furniture settled down, and the owner’s coat shed brussel sprouts by the dozen.

“Now why’d you go and do a thing like that?”

Turning to the sound of the voice, Twilight caught sight of Discord some distance away, over another building.

“You’re fighting a losing battle, sunspot!” he shouted, raising one paw in preparation for a spell. “Chaos always— OOF!”

An ear-shattering CRACK split the air as something zoomed from the library and struck Discord square in the chest. Rebounding in a graceful arc, the object slowed enough to be visible as something more than a blur.

It was Princess Luna.

“Sister!” Celestia called, soaring to meet Luna’s altitude. “Now is our chance! If we—”

Even from a distance Twilight could read the derisive scoff in Luna’s body language. The alicorn princess veered away from her sister and swooped toward the still-stunned Discord. Small, smoky black tendrils of magic burst from her horn.

But Discord was quick. Even still reeling from the massive physical impact, he managed to dart away from the incoming assault. The magic impacted on another building, each tendril explosively blowing massive holes where they impacted.

“You’d best listen to your big sister,” he jeered, throwing a flurry of randomizer spells in Luna’s general direction. He faced Celestia and conjured a measuring tape. “And I do mean big! Hitting the cake so soon after your nap?”

Uttering a growl of frustration, Celestia beat her wings to soared closer. “Thou canst not win!” she cried, and added her own attacks to Luna’s. “We have the Elements of Harmony now, and they will defeat thee!”

A ping-pong paddle appeared in Discord’s paw, and he batted the incoming spells away. “Elements, eh? So how did it feel to rob Mummy’s grave?”

Luna seemed to stumble in mid-air, and threw a questioning glance at her sister. Celestia returned the look with a shake of her head before firing off another powerful attack spell.

“So where are these Elements now?” Discord asked. A shield charm reduced the incoming spells to playing cards, which he gathered and flourished in an impossibly complex fan. “Or are you afraid to tip your hoof too early?”

Celestia’s eyes flicked to the library for just the briefest of moments, but it was enough. Discord sprang into action, blasting both sisters with telekinetic magic that sent them tumbling. Then he motioned with one paw and a jagged beam of chaotic energy erupted, aimed directly at Twilight and the library behind her.

“NO!” Celestia cried. She teleported haphazardly into the beam’s path with a shield charm.

The beam glanced off the edge of the shield, only deflecting a few degrees to fly past Twilight’s shoulder. A split second later a massive explosion threw her across the street. Dazed, ears ringing, she rolled back onto her hooves.

When her eyes finally refocused, she gasped.

Half of the library had been disintegrated to atoms by a blast of pure chaotic disruption. Suddenly, Twilight realized with horror that she’d never seen anypony else leave the building.





Before Twilight’s teleportation magic had faded, cries of panic and fear filtered into the library from outside. Spells flashed, and the ponies inside briefly heard Celestia shout something indistinct over the ruckus.

“What the heck was that?” Rainbow cried.

“I dunno!” Pinkie replied. Her voice sounded uncharacteristically fearful. “Whatever it is, it can’t be good!”

“It means the Lord of Chaos has come.”

The four ponies looked to Princess Luna, the Night-Mare. She was standing stock-still, but as they looked closely they could see her shoulders trembling.

“The Lord of Chaos has come,” she repeated flatly, “and thanks to the efforts of everypony here, the circle of Elements is incomplete. You are not prepared to defeat him.”

Zecora scoffed at the accusation. “What in the world did you expect us to do? You could have at least given us a pointer or two!”

“Do I look like your personal oracle, bangles?” Luna spat.

“But… but we only need two more,” Rarity offered. “Celestia said if—”

“Do not speak Her name! You are not worthy to—” The princess cut off her own words, biting down on her lip.

Cowed into silence by the deafening shout, the ponies huddled together. Rainbow gulped down a lump in her throat. Rarity gasped quietly in an attempt to calm her rattled nerves.

As if to punctuate the silence, a small explosion reverberated through the walls. More screams echoed faintly in the distance.

Luna straightened her neck and sighed. “It seems I must do what I can to salvage this mess,” she said, spreading her wings. “Make your peace, ponies: This day may be your last.”

With a single mighty beat of her wings, Princess Luna launched herself through a nearby window. The accompanying sonic boom rocked the entire library, throwing books from the shelves.

“What are we gonna do now?” Rainbow asked. “Is she right? We can’t use the Elements to help defeat Discord?”

“I don’t even know how to use mine,” Rarity lamented. She picked up the cracked gem Celestia had dropped. “And this one’s broken worse now!”

“Can you fix it?” Pinkie trotted over, her own gem tucked into the dense curls of her preternaturally dextrous tail. On closer inspection the damage was more severe than first apparent; thousands of tiny spiderweb cracks splayed out from a massive fissure that spanned nearly the entire diameter of the gem.

“I can’t say, darling,” Rarity said, probing with her magic. “Finding gems is my speciality. Repairing them… much less so.”

“Shame on that mare for what she has done,” Zecora hissed, moving toward the other discarded gem, “she puts fault on us but it’s her we should shun!”

She sat on her haunches and hefted the gem between her forehooves. It remained vacant and dim, no activating magic lighting it from within. With a sigh she set it back on the floor.

“What’s more, she has stolen Fluttershy away,” she said, voice beginning to shudder. “Is she alright? Can anypony say?”

“I hope so,” Rainbow said. She fluttered over to Zecora and put a comforting hoof on her shoulder. “I mean, I’m sure she’s okay… you heard what Rarity said: Fluttershy is the Element of Kindness. Without her the rest of the elements wouldn’t work anyway, so why would they hurt her?”

“I hope you are right,” Zecora said. Her hooves were trembling now. “To think of her— h-hurt… gives me terrible fright!”

“Don’t fret dear, we’ll find her,” Rarity assured, gathering the remaining gems in her magic. She winced as another series of distant explosions shook the windows. “But we really should leave posthaste! There’s no telling what—”

“Hello?” The word filtering down from the stairs was faint and unsteady, but the voice was unmistakable.

While the others gasped in surprise, Zecora was on her hooves in an instant. “Fluttershy, is that you? Can it be, is it true!?” She galloped toward the stairs and took them three at a time.

By the time Rainbow, Pinkie, and Rarity had reached the top of the stairs, Zecora had already wrapped Fluttershy in a tight hug. She was rocking back and forth, struggling to get words out. “You— here! I c-can’t believe! W-we were about to leave!”

Tears were beginning to spill down Zecora’s cheeks. Looking tired and frazzled, but true to her infinite kindness, Fluttershy was nuzzling them away as she stroked Zecora’s mane comfortingly. “I’m here, it’s okay. I’m fine, just a little shaken up.”

“But… How did you get here?” Pinkie asked. “Last time we saw you, we thought Princess Luna had taken you away somewhere.”

Fluttershy grimaced and winced. “She did, to the old castle…” Her whole body shuddered in apparent horror as she trailed off.

“Whatever it was, we’re just glad you’re safe,” Rarity said, trotting over and adding her own hug to the one that Zecora seemed unwilling to release.

Still, Fluttershy suddenly seemed to shrink into herself. Her ears began perking at the distant noises of destruction and battle. Her eyes grew distant, fearful, and she stopped stroking Zecora’s mane. “It was awful… She was so angry, so cruel…”

“Who? Princess Luna?” Rainbow asked.

Fluttershy nodded. “Sh-she wanted to m-make me fight… she said I was an Element for a battle, or something…” Her voice was tremulous, weak.

“That’s the same thing Celestia told us,” Rainbow said. “Or ‘Solaria’ or whatever her name really is.” She held out her own gem. “Look, see?”

“I think she meant for you to have one of these,” Rarity said, levitating the two remaining unclaimed gems toward Fluttershy. “Take it and see; they’re really quite marvelous.”

“Yeah! They make you tingle all over and sorta glow inside!” Pinkie bounced exuberantly. “I’ve had mine for, like, a couple minutes now and I’m still not bored of it, so that’s saying something!”

Fluttershy balked and recoiled, but Zecora held her steady. “Do not worry, it is okay,” she said. “The Elements are safe; it is as they say.”

Reaching out a hoof, Fluttershy touched the cracked gem.

Nothing happened.

“Oh bother,” Rarity said, swapping the cracked gem out for the intact one. “Here, try this.”

At Fluttershy’s touch, the gem burned bright with internal magic, then settled to a now-familiar subtle glow like the others.

“Oh my!” Fluttershy hefted the gem between her hooves. Her back and shoulders visibly relaxed, as if an invisible weight had been lifted away. “It does feel good. I feel… better, I think.”

“Isn’t it great?!” Pinkie exclaimed. “And it just keeps getting better! I haven’t felt this good since… since… I dunno when!”

“To Applejack the last gem must belong,” Zecora said with a sigh. She looked disappointed to not be sharing in the effervescent feelings provided by the Elements. “But with this battle, I doubt that she will come along.”

“I could go get her,” Rainbow offered. “She said she was going off to the farm to pack up; maybe she’s still—”

Rainbow’s words were cut short as a massive explosion rocked the library, throwing bodies and furniture against the back wall.





Chaotic disruptor spells randomized matter on the molecular level, effectively vaporizing most anything in their path. Discord’s spell had been only slightly deflected by Celestia’s shield charm, one half the beam blowing a ragged semi-circle out of the side of the library, while the other carved a long furrow through Ponyville for some distance before tapering off.

Twilight only had eyes for the library as she jumped to her hooves She galloped toward the blasted-out shell, but just as she reached the rubble her knees bucked in grief and she stumbled to a stop.

Her friends were in there. Had been in there. Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Zecora, Fluttershy. Discord had known; she’d seen him target the library specifically.

She tried to shout words, but they came out as a strangled scream. Her lungs seemed too small, her throat too tight. She tried desperately to overcome the crushing despair, but it was too late. They were gone, and it was all Discord’s fault.

“Twilight?”

The voice made Twilight’s breath catch. Hardly daring to hope, she looked up through blurry eyes and saw a white unicorn, picking her way delicately through the rubble and dust.

Her heart leapt and she leapt with it, clearing the pile of debris in one bound. She wrapped Rarity in a crushing hug, fighting for breath as her chest clenched painfully.

“You’re okay!” she gasped out. “You’re okay!”

“We all are dear, mostly,” Rarity replied breathlessly. “We were upstairs and on the other side, thank goodness!”

Looking up, Twilight saw the others, likewise picking their way through what was left of the main room. Pinkie waved, grinning more widely than seemed appropriate as she bounced her gem with her tail.

“What happened?” Rainbow asked. She kicked aside some of the larger rubble to clear a path for Fluttershy and Zecora, who were still descending the mostly-intact staircase.

“It was Discord. He—” Twilight stopped herself. To her surprise the words had come out more bitterly than she’d intended. She dropped the thought and shook her head. “Nevermind that. They’re fighting now, and we’ve got to leave or we’ll be caught in the crossfire again!”

“I must say I agree,” Zecora said as she helped Fluttershy over a particularly precarious step. “This is a place we don’t want to be!”

At first Twilight wondered why the pegasus needed help in the first place, then she noted the slight limp, and the way one of her wings drooped conspicuously.

Fluttershy was injured.

“Here, let me help.” With a quick application of magic, Twilight cleared an easier path to the front door of the library, which was still surprisingly intact and more easily accessible than traversing the rubble of the destroyed half. Rarity and Pinkie were almost out of the building already, but Fluttershy, Zecora, and Rainbow gladly made for the door.

A few moments later they met on the street. Fluttershy still seemed to be doing okay, although she was leaning rather heavily on Zecora.

“Okay, it seems they’re mostly battling to the east,” Twilight said, pointing to the swooping and diving figures in the sky. If we head toward Westfoal, maybe we can…”

She trailed off as her eyes took in the scene of the battle. Many buildings had been badly damaged or destroyed so far. Some were burning or otherwise conventionally damaged by the Sky-Mares’ magic, but the vast majority had obviously been struck by a mind-boggling array of Chaos spells.

More than the buildings though, Twilight noticed the ponies. Dozens of them, rushing to and fro like so many scattered ants. She saw walleyed mail-pony Ditzy some distance off, struggling to shield a frightened filly from falling debris. The tiny pony with the huge downy coat, half-dragging a nearly-unconscious stallion away from a shop in the process of randomizing itself. A young pegasus with stunted wings that Twilight distantly recognized as one of Apple Bloom’s friends, crying and digging futilely in the debris of a collapsed house.

An unexpected feeling of impotent rage consumed Twilight as she looked back to the battle above. Not just for the Sky-Mares and their blind drive to restore “harmony”, but also for Emperor Discord himself: Not only had he deliberately tried to kill her friends, the vast majority of the damage done to Ponyville thus far had come from rampant uncontrolled chaos magic. By contrast, Princess Celestia in particular seemed committed to mitigating as much of the damage at possible, giving up attack opportunities to shield and restore buildings hit by randomizer spells.

In fact, as she watched, Twilight began to get the impression this was hardly a battle at all, notwithstanding the significant damage to the town. The two sides rather appeared to be trading hits almost one for one, and with the exception of the massive disruptor spell aimed at the library, almost all the spells were ones that Twilight herself could potentially perform.

The fighting had moved a ways off, but now seemed to be gradually drifting back toward the library. As the figures in the sky approached, bantering voices became clear.

“Oh, come on!” Discord shouted as he deflected another volley of spells. “I know you can do better than that, moonshine!”

“I could well say the same about you,” Luna retorted, easily disintegrating the large winged snowball Discord had thrown in return. “We’re trying not to kill everypony here; what’s your excuse?”

“Truth be told, I’m bored,” Discord said. “Playing Emperor was fun for a while, but after a thousand years waiting for you two morons to free yourselves, it just gets old.”

He dragged out the last word, morphing his appearance to a crippled, decrepit version of himself. He sighed a rattling, wheezing breath before transforming back in a flash. “And now that you’re here… Ugh. I beat you before, and I could do it again, but you’re just making it too darn easy.” With a snap of his claw another randomizer spell jetted out toward a nearby shop.

Before the beam was even halfway to its destination, Celestia had teleported into its path with a shield charm, dissipating the spell instantly.

“Ooh, better that time!” Discord’s voice had taken on the lolling, easy cadance Twilight had heard many times before. He was just playing now. “Keep it up and you might make it to the big leagues eventually.”

Celestia growled in frustration. Her great wings beat through the air, carrying her closer to Discord. “Cease the charade!” she cried. “Let us either reason together or fight until death, but I implore you to spare the town!”

With a scoff, Discord made a backhanded gesture. Celestia only barely dodged the telekinetic slap that would have knocked her out of the sky.

“Charade?” he growled, eyes narrowing. “Let’s talk about charades.”

With a flash Discord transformed. His body and wings turned white. A cartoonish yellow smiley face on one hip passed for a cutie mark, and a single silly bent horn protruded from his forehead. “Ooo, look at me! I’m so self-absorbed! I drove away my little sister and stole mommy’s name for myself! I’m the best, I can do everything alone, me me me me me!”

Another flash, and he turned midnight blue with a half-eaten wheel of cheese for a cutie mark. His eyes were ringed with black, and he slouched conspicuously. “I hate my life. I hate my sister. I hate everything. Nobody understands me. Maybe I should just run away, because that fixes everything. I am darkness! I am the night! Woe is me!”

At the mocking impression, Princess Luna screamed in rage. An ugly beam of black and purple magic exploded from her horn, boring a hole clean through Discord’s chest and the five or six buildings behind him.

Celestia gasped audibly even at a distance. Luna’s own face registered unmitigated surprise.

Face frozen in shock, Emperor Discord coughed once and fell from the sky.

On the ground, Twilight’s jaw dropped silently, lungs clutching in vain for breath. But just as the scream began to fill her throat, she saw the real Discord re-appear, leaning casually on Luna’s hip. “Wow! I didn’t know it was possible to be killed by sheer brooding ennui.”

Luna turned with a gasp and fired off a quick spell, but Discord flicked it away like it was an annoying insect.

“Look, I get it,” he said, casually floating around the princess. “Nobody understands me either. I’m quite literally incomprehensible, so I know what it’s like to be cast out, ignored, treated like you’re some kind of second-class creature.”

“Sister, listen not to his lies!” Celestia had soared high above the other two and folded her wings tightly, swooping down like a hawk on its prey.

Regaining a semblance of composure, Luna thrust herself away from Discord. Stopping nearly directly above the library, she sent another deadly beam in his direction.

This time it passed harmlessly between two smaller Discords dressed like hoofball referees. “Goal!” they shouted in unison. They somersaulted into each other, merging back into one Discord directly in front of Luna. He pointed up at Celestia and sighed with a bored, complacent air. “Get a load of her. Talk about your self-righteous hot air balloons, am I right?”

Twilight suddenly realized Celestia wasn’t going to fire a spell. The princess lowered her head and shrieked out a primal war-cry, apparently intent on physically impaling Discord with the sharp point of her elongated horn.

At the last moment Discord evaded. In a single smooth motion he grabbed Celestia by the throat, redirected her momentum into a vertical spin, and twisted violently like a coiled spring.

The move nearly doubled Celestia’s downward velocity and a split second later her tumbling form hit the ruins of the library. She punched through the roof and upper floor like a cannonball. The impact nearly jolted Twilight to her knees.

“Holy horseapples!” Pinkie breathed, her eyes wide as saucers. Rarity recoiled in horror. Fluttershy gasped and averted her gaze.

Rainbow was the first to move, launching herself into the air toward the library. “C’mon! We’ve gotta help!” Zecora and Pinkie immediately followed, galloping and vaulting over debris.

Rarity stayed, rushing to Fluttershy’s side as the latter shrank into herself.

“Oh no!” Fluttershy whispered between gasps. “Oh no!”

“Breathe darling, just— just breathe…” Rarity seemed to be having trouble following her own advice as she held the trembling Fluttershy.

Twilight could only stare in shock. She’d known the battle would be destructive and terrible, and had seen the horrible effects magical combat could inflict, but those were a detached, almost abstract form of combat in her mind. This was far more real, far more violent and visceral in a way she’d never quite conceived before.

“Well, that worked out nicely.” Discord’s voice caught Twilight’s ear and she looked up.

Luna seemed stunned with surprise, looking between Discord and the site of Celestia’s impact. “You—!” she began.

Discord quickly closed the gap between them and put a claw on Luna’s lips. “Listen here, Princess: Now that I’ve got your undivided attention, you and I are going to have a little chat…”

His voice softened past Twilight’s hearing threshold, just as another interjected loudly from the library.

“Fluttershy!” Pinkie called, head popping up among the debris and dust. “Come quick, we need you!”

Fluttershy raised her head from Rarity’s comforting hug. “But—”

“No time, just hurry!” Pinkie disappeared again.

“Oh my,” Rarity said, standing back up and pulling Fluttershy to unsteady hooves. “Come now, let’s get you over there.”

As the two slowly made their way through the previously-cleared path near the front door, Twilight lingered back. Above her, Discord was speaking inaudibly to Luna, one paw cupping her chin. The princess looked away defiantly for a moment, but a jerk from Discord’s claws brought her gaze back.

Though she couldn’t hear the conversation, Twilight could only imagine the disharmony Discord was trying to sow. The two sisters were obviously at odds, and it would be in the emperor’s best interests to drive that wedge as deep as possible.

She pushed aside the thoughts; they wouldn’t do any good here. Instead she followed Rarity and Fluttershy into the library.

If the building had been only half-destroyed before, it was now completely beyond any hope of salvage. Celestia’s body had impacted with enough force to literally blast the floorboards away, crushing shelves and splintering walls. The second floor and roof above were open to the sky, cross-beams and rafters snapped like toothpicks. Chunks of the structure hung precariously by splinters and bent nails, threatening to collapse at any moment.

Nearly in the center of the main room, everypony else was gathered around Celestia’s crumpled white form. To Twilight’s shock, the alicorn princess was alive, moaning in pain and making small, uncoordinated movements.

“She’s hurt pretty bad,” Rainbow said as Fluttershy limped into the room, assisted by Rarity, “but I’m not sure what. Here Zecora, help me...” She moved to push Celestia’s body into a more normal position.

“Don’t do that!” Rainbow and Zecora both jumped back, startled at the unexpected cry from the normally-demure Fluttershy.

“She might have a neck or back injury,” Fluttershy explained. “Moving her would make it worse!”

Soft words escaped Celestia’s mouth. “Tis not… that…” she wheezed, lifting her head slightly. “My shoulder…”

Fluttershy leaned away from Rarity and limped over to Celestia on her own power. “How can you be sure?” she asked. “Can you move your back legs?”

“I am not a pony like unto you,” Celestia said through gritted teeth, although she did shift both back legs slowly for Fluttershy’s benefit. “My magic tells me more. But the pain…” She motioned slightly with her head. “I canst not summon the strength to heal myself.”

Fluttershy circled behind and placed her hooves on Celestia’s shoulder. “I think it’s dislocated,” she said, probing gently. The princess winced and gasped. “We have to put it back. Here, Zecora, put your hoof there… I’ll put mine here…”

It was fleeting, but Twilight thought for a moment she saw a look pass between Fluttershy and Zecora, followed by an imperceptible nod.

“Ready princess?”

Celestia nodded.

“Okay,” Fluttershy said. “On the count of three. One—”

Fluttershy’s hoof jammed toward Zecora’s, and a loud, cracking pop echoed through the room. Celestia spasmed and screamed through gritted teeth.

“Easy! Easy!” Fluttershy cried, bearing down against the princess’s efforts to writhe away. Within moments gentle hooves were kneading and pressing in all the right spots.

Celestia melted, moaning softly as twitching muscles began to relax. “I shouldst flay thee alive for that deception,” she muttered.

“A cruel trick it is indeed,” Zecora said with a dry undercurrent of mirth, “but sometimes that’s just what a pony needs.”

“If I had waited until ‘three’, you would have braced yourself and kept it from going back in,” Fluttershy explained. Her hooves wandered, massaging further. “So we— Oh no, your ribs!”

Celestia shrugged off Fluttershy’s touch and struggled to her hooves. Numerous tiny cuts became apparent and began to ooze red. “Ribs may wait,” she said dismissively, spreading her wings. “My sister faces Discord alone; I must aid her.”

“Wait!” Rainbow called. “You gave us these Elements to use against Discord, but we don’t know how!”

Celestia’s shoulders slumped. She sighed and shook her head. “In truth, I know little more than thee. The Elements are said to grant supreme power, but to access that power all must be present.” She gestured to the cracked and as-yet unclaimed gem in Rarity’s possession. “Even then…”

“So what are we supposed to do?” Pinkie asked.

A long moment passed before Celestia spoke. “I cannot say,” she whispered. “I do not know.” She launched herself skyward, and with a single beat of her mighty wings disappeared above the destroyed roof.

The ruined library fell eerily silent, save for the muffled cacophony of widespread chaos consuming the town outside. Each pony looked to the others for some kind of guidance, any word of inspiration or action.

“Perhaps it’s for the best.” All eyes turned to Twilight. She pushed down the clenching lump in her throat.

“I mean, maybe you should just let it go,” she continued. “This is a battle between gods. What can five ponies do against that, Elements or not?”

“Remind me why you’re here, again?” Rainbow growled. “Because it certainly can’t be to help us defeat your precious Emperor.”

Murmurs of assent rippled around the room.

Twilight opened her mouth again, but no words came this time. Truth be told, she herself didn’t know. She’d been passively going along with the current for some time now, and somewhere along the way had lost her purpose. Had the question been asked a day or two ago, she would have proudly proclaimed her intent to help Emperor Discord at all costs. Now, she couldn’t tell where she stood.

Before Twilight could attempt to speak again, galloping hooves sounded on the debris outside. Not the panicky cadence of fleeing citizens or the uneven stumble of a wounded straggler, but strong, powerful hoofbeats approaching with a purpose, followed by a familiar voice.

“Rainbow?! Zecora?! Are you in there!? Are you okay!?” An orange earth pony whipped through the front door of the library, panting, and stopped abruptly as she came face-to-face with Twilight in the shadowed, debris-filled entryway.

Twilight stumbled back in surprise. “A-Applejack?” she stammered. “What are you—”

The words were cut short as two hooves slammed into Twilight’s chest. The library spun, then the back of her head something hard, enough to make her vision go dark and swimmy.

A moment later Twilight’s eyes refocused, just in time to see Applejack’s hoof speeding down toward her face.
> Chapter 15
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight blinked, and the library vanished. Suddenly she was in the dusty canyon below the Sky-Mares old castle, slumped against the rock wall. Applejack stood above, shouting incoherently. Powerful hooves slammed down over and over again, each blow accompanied by a sickening crunch.

She felt herself growing weaker. She had to do something. Her senses dimmed, her will to fight waned. The blows were coming faster and harder now, and if she didn’t do something, the next one might be the last.

With monumental effort she forced herself to move just as Applejack’s steel-shod hoof slammed into the library floor, hard enough to send splinters flying into the air.

“Applejack, no!” A pink blur rushed overhead, knocking Applejack away.

Head clear with adrenaline, Twilight rolled the opposite direction. A flame of rage lit inside her brain. It all made sense now: The blackout, the amnesia, the constant threats, the aches and pains that were only now beginning to fade: All of it pointed to Applejack covering for a sloppy backwoods murder attempt.

Twilight bounced to her hooves. Her horn filled with magic, building the spell before she’d even found her target. She spun around to find the traitor she was about to punish.

But it wasn’t Applejack’s eyes she found herself staring into.

Twilight had to mentally clamp down on the spell. Just past Fluttershy, she could see Applejack struggling with Pinkie Pie. “Move!” she shouted.

Fluttershy merely spread her wings, completely blocking Twilight’s line of fire. “No.”

Holding back a fully-powered attack spell took considerable effort, and Twilight realized she’d soon have to release the spell or let it fade out uselessly, leaving her drained and defenseless. She gritted her teeth against the building heat in her forehead. “You don’t understand! She tried to kill me!”

“An’ more’s the pity I didn’t finish the job!” Applejack snarled. “I knew you’d bring this down on us! I jus’ knew it!” She was still fighting, but Pinkie Pie had worked her into some kind of painful-looking grapple and was gaining the upper hoof.

The confession seemed to rattle Fluttershy. She glanced at Applejack, wings drooping.

Twilight made her move, jumping to the side and aiming her horn for a clear shot at Applejack’s exposed underbelly. The spell she had prepared wasn’t deadly, but would certainly make the recipient wish it were. For a brief, satisfying moment she saw Applejack’s eyes widen, expression changing from rage to terror.

A blow struck Twilight’s chin, jarring her vision and breaking her concentration as the world tilted. The spell cracked loudly, zoomed through the hole in the roof of the library, and disappeared into the chaotic sky.

Before she could react, a pair of hooves clamped onto the sides of her head and yanked downward, bringing her face-to-face with Fluttershy.

“NO!” Fluttershy said. it was the closest thing to a shout Twilight had ever heard her utter. “That’s not how we solve problems!”

Something in Fluttershy’s eyes made Twilight quail like a scolded filly, and she tried to look away. “But she—”

“No,” Fluttershy repeated, forcing eye contact again. This time her voice was softer, but still firm and commanding. “You will not take matters into your own hooves like that again. Do I make myself clear?”

Twilight wanted to retort, push the lightweight pegasus out of the way and continue the assault, but her will to fight crumpled like paper under Fluttershy’s piercing gaze.

Fluttershy’s hooves hesitated a moment, then shifted, releasing Twilight’s head and drifting down her neck. One stroked her mane while the other rested for a moment on her shoulder before pulling her forward. Soft wings wrapped around her, not mechanically like before, but gently and lovingly.

“Whatever she did, we can work it out, okay?”

Something broke. Twilight choked on the inexplicable rise of emotion in her throat, tried unsuccessfully to stifle a sob. Her back legs gave way and she slumped onto her haunches, leaned into the hug and let tears surge over her cheeks.

She wasn’t any stranger to crying. As a filly she would cry when her beloved toys fell victim to chaos magic. She would cry when she fell and scraped her knees. When Wind Seeker dumped her for another mare, she’d cried so hard she could swear her heart was being dragged up her throat by barbed wire. All those times and countless others like them, crying had been a catharsis. It had let out her emotions and drained them away with her falling tears, like poison sucked from a wound.

But in the weeks since she’d left Ponyville, it seemed crying never did what it was supposed to do. Every time, she ended up feeling even worse than before. As of late her tears had failed to absorb any bad, taking only the good and leaving it to wither and dry as a dark blotch on a journal page.

But now, enfolded in the inexplicably comforting hug, she finally felt catharsis again. All the weight of the past few days melted away: Pain, fear, betrayal, and anger, all filtered down and congealed in great rolling tears that seeped harmlessly into Fluttershy’s soft mane.

Gradually her tears began to ebb. Tension lifted from her shoulders and chest. Her sobs subsided, replaced with deep, calming breaths.

Fluttershy’s embrace loosened slightly, and she leaned away to make eye contact again. “Are you okay?”

Twilight nodded and wiped her eyes. She felt drained, her emotional and magical reserves spent in the space of a few short moments.

Fluttershy searched Twilight’s eyes for a few more seconds, then nodded in return. She turned to Applejack, who had stopped struggling and now lay passive, all four legs firmly locked from behind in Pinkie’s wrestling hold. Her hat had been knocked off during the struggle, and her blonde mane was tousled, falling awkwardly over her face.

“What happened?”

Applejack visibly cowered before Fluttershy’s question. “I— I didn’t mean to…”

“What. Happened?”

“She… she jus’ made me so darn mad,” Applejack stammered, resolve seeming to crumble. “We we’re arguin’ ‘bout this or that… I don’t even know exactly what happened. I lost it, and when I came to, she was jus’ lyin’ there, like…”

She looked at her hooves, then shuddered. For the first time, Twilight noticed the dark, streaked stains on Applejack’s fetlocks.

“Honest truth, I ain’t never been so scared in my whole life. I didn’t think she was gonna wake up. If twern’t for the Sky Mares fixin’ her the way they did…”

“Then why did you try again just now?” Fluttershy asked.

“You might say I got some anger issues,” Applejack muttered. “What with Discord, an’ the Sky-Mares… I had to have Spike promise not to let Apple Bloom follow me.”

To Twilight’s surprise, Applejack’s voice cracked.

“You didn’t hear her screamin’,” she continued. “I don’t even know if they’re gonna make it far enough before this all turns lopsided. My family, my farm, my town… Everything’s goin’ straight to Tartarus and it— it’s all her f-fault!” With a small sob she spat the last words in Twilight’s direction.

Fluttershy motioned, and Pinkie Pie released Applejack. But when Fluttershy attempted to lean in for a hug, Applejack pushed her back.

“I’m… I’m fine,” she said.

The rebuttal seemed to surprise Fluttershy, but she respected it. “Are you and Twilight going to have problems?” she asked.

With a shake of her head, Applejack retrieved her hat and donned it again. “No. Not unless she starts it.”

Fluttershy turned and looked expectantly at Twilight.

“No,” Twilight replied meekly. Her eyes still burned from her own tears, and her face was warm with chagrin from the unexpected breakdown.

A muffled explosion rattled the library. In the confusion of the fight, it seemed everypony had briefly forgotten the larger battle going on around them.

“So,” Applejack said, “Did anypony have a plan or anythin’?”

“Well, there is this…” Rarity stepped forward, levitating the final Element of Harmony. The damage had spread even further, and one large crack had nearly reached the opposite side, threatening to split the gem in two. “Princess Celestia said we could use them against Discord, but it seems they can’t work unless all of them are active.” She motioned to the other four gems, each claimed and glowing with internal power. “We think this one is meant for you, dear.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow at the final gem. “What am I supposed to do with it?” she asked.

“None of us know,” Twilight replied, the words seemingly forming of their own accord. “Celestia didn’t even how to use them.”

“What do you care?” Rainbow interjected. “Shouldn’t you be, I dunno, trying to stop us right now?”

“Yeah!” Pinkie agreed, head tilting curiously. “Aren’t you supposed to be on Discord’s side?”

Of all the negative feelings Fluttershy’s hug had dredged out of Twilight, uncertainty wasn’t one of them. Now she felt it settling again, indecision clouding her mind and emotions. Why was she letting all of this go on right in front of her? Why wasn’t she destroying the Elements, knowing they were specifically created to be used against Discord? Why wasn’t she out there, distracting Celestia and Luna so he could defeat them again?

“I’m… I’m not sure,” she answered. “I just—”

Another earth-shaking explosion rattled them. The remaining walls of the library, already structurally compromised, began to sway. Support beams groaned and cracked.

“Look out!” Rainbow Dash zoomed over Rarity’s head and knocked away a bundle of floorboards just in time.

“It’s coming down!” Pinkie shouted, making a mad dash for the door. “Run!”

Zecora didn’t hesitate. She hefted Fluttershy onto her own back in one smooth motion and followed Pinkie. Rarity seemed frozen, but Rainbow looped around and dragged her through the door in a blur of color.

Twilight overcame her momentary shock and willed her hooves to run toward the nearest opening, the spell-blown remains of the side wall. But before she’d gone two steps, more of the roof peeled away and came crashing down in her path.

She skidded to a halt, turned, and came face to face with Applejack again. It seemed they’d had the same idea, but the collapsed section of roof was too tall and unstable to scale in time.

Applejack swore and turned, just as a crossbeam came crashing down in front of their last exit point, the front door.

They both stared for a moment, then looked at each other wordlessly. Twilight’s jaw barely had time to drop before another sound made her look up. The floor split directly above their heads, and the contents of the small bedroom tumbled through the crack.

Somepony cried out in terror.

Without a second thought, Twilight instinctively leaped toward Applejack. A familiar falling sensation grabbed her by the middle, and everything twisted.

A moment later she hit hard cobblestone and tumbled. Orange and blonde whipped past her eyes as she collided with something soft.

When the world stopped spinning, Twilight found herself lying on top of Applejack. Before she could quite come to terms with her new position, a horrible cacophony of snapping and groaning made her turn around, just in time to see the library collapse on itself in a heap of rubble and dust.

She gaped at her would-be grave for a moment, then looked back down.

Applejack was staring up at her, jaw slack and eyes wide.

Twilight could only blink in surprise. “I—” she began, but Applejack cut her off.

“LOOK OUT!”  This time it was Applejack who took action, wrapping her legs around Twilight and rolling just as a large white object came crashing to the ground where they’d been lying.

It was Princess Celestia. Gasping and panting, she was covered in cuts, bruises, scorch marks, and the tell-tale signs of glancing chaos spells.

A moment later, Princess Luna touched down a few steps away, looking significantly less battered. She glanced at Twilight and Applejack, and seemed to disregard them immediately. “Are you alright?” Luna asked Celestia, voice flat and cold.

Celestia shook her head, seeming to gulp for precious breaths. “N—No, I am not! Sister, what art thou doing!? Why do you not fight alongside me!?”

“I am fighting,” Luna replied. “For what little good it seems to be doing.”

“Maybe she realizes your resistance is futile!” Directly overhead, Discord was floating in lazy circles. He seemed none the worse for wear, despite the protracted battle. “Honestly it’s like you’re not even trying!”

With great effort, Celestia struggled to her hooves. She shot a glare at Luna, then turned her attentions to the sky.

“Enough of this!” she cried, her voice rattling the few unbroken windows nearby. “Too long thy stain has poisoned this land! Too long have the ponies of Equestria suffered under thy claws!”

Golden magic began to infuse her horn, filling it from within and coalescing from the very air around.

“I hath pondered on thy defeat for ten thousand score nights. I hath not slept! I hath not eaten! I hath not wasted a thought, except to drag thee weeping and wailing from thy throne!”

More than its sheer power, something in Celestia’s voice made Twilight’s blood chill. Her horn tingled with ambient magic, stronger and older than she’d ever felt. Prompted by an unseen force, she looked up, past Discord, at the place where the swirling vortex of chaos was beginning to split.

“Dost thou think I am weak? That a thousand winters in stone hath made me soft? Nay, deceiver! I had hoped to spare this land, but it seems thy subjects mean naught unto thee. Well, so be it! If it must needs be that the valleys rend, and the mountains tumble, and the seas boil to dust, I SHALL SEE THEE BURN FOR THY TREACHERY ERE THIS DAY IS GONE!”

The very sky seemed to catch fire overhead. Shafts of light breached the coiling tendrils of Chaos. In the place where the sun should have been, something burned hotter and brighter than Twilight had ever known. The hairs of her coat began to curl. Her eyes dried up, even as she squeezed them tight against the searing heat that stole the moisture from her mouth and scorched her lungs with every gasp.

From somewhere nearby, Applejack began screaming. Other voices rose in terror as well. Against every instinct in her body, Twilight forced her eyes open again. Past the waves of rippling heat rising from the earth, she could see Rainbow trying to shield herself with wings that were already turning black. Pinkie and Rarity were huddled in the shrinking shadow of a burning building. Fluttershy and Zecora were nowhere to be seen.

The air itself seemed to burn. Every surface was glowing white in the glare of a sun that might as well be filling the sky from horizon to horizon.

Discord himself seemed as yet unaffected, but as he spoke his voice betrayed genuine worry. “Okay, hot stuff, you’ve made your point!” He began throwing spells of every conceivable nature, but they fizzled and burned in the air.

The heat and brightness were beyond unbearable, beyond livable. Twilight let her eyes close again, even though the light seemed to burn her retinas even behind her eyelids. Blinded white, she barely felt Applejack’s hoof touch her own in a simple, comforting gesture.

“That’s enough.”

A voice cut through, somehow cold enough to chill Twilight’s bones, and the burn on her skin lifted. Scarcely able to believe it, she opened her dry, scratchy eyes.

The buildings of Ponyville seemed like a skeleton covered in skin made of ash. Every surface simmered with fading heat as the sun returned to a more reasonable size and brightness. Smoke and steam rose from the coats of ponies writhing and crawling in the street. Wails of pain and anguish filtered into her cracked ears.

Only a few paces away, Princess Celestia stood stock still, untouched by the heat. Princess Luna was next to her, horn glowing. Deep blue magic shimmered, solidifying into a rigid, polished-steel blade pressed against Celestia’s throat.

“Sister…?” Celestia whispered. The word quavered just noticeably.

“Oh come on,” Luna replied. “I was prepared for casualties, but really? I can’t have adoring worshipers if you incinerate all of them.”

Celestia gasped.

“HUZZAH!” Discord threw aside the massive jug of sunscreen he’d been slathering on. “I knew you had it in you, Luna! I just knew it!”

“Had what in me, exactly?”

Discord swooped down in a flash. His mismatched feet sizzled almost comically on the cobblestones but he didn’t seem to notice. “Why, standing up to your bully of a sister, of course!” he crowed, reaching around and slapping Luna’s hindquarters playfully. “All those years, those centuries under her hoof, I thought she’d broken you just like everypony else she’s trotted all over.”

Celestia’s face was rigid with shock. Her eyes darted back and forth between Luna and Discord.

With a gleeful hoot, Discord pinched the princess’s cheek. “Solaria the Wise, Solaria the Powerful, Solaria-turned-Celestia, self-proclaimed Ruler of all the Heavens in her late mother’s stead,” he taunted. “Oh, it’s so good to see you finally put in your place, and by your own sister too!”

The excitement seemed almost too much for Discord. He twirled and hopped and danced silly jigs, singing and laughing to himself until he nearly cried for joy.

Finally satisfied, he floated back over to Celestia and tickled her nose. “So, what are we going to do with this one? Toss her in a dungeon? Freeze her in stone again? Court Jester? Heaven knows I could use a new one. Oh! I know! What about—”

Dark magic flashed, and Discord and Celestia both rocketed across the ruined street. They struck the still-standing rock wall of an otherwise destroyed building hard enough to crack the stone. In an instant, a shimmering magical blade was at each of their throats.

Discord sputtered. “What in the UNHOLY BLAZES of Tartarus are you—”

“Something I should have done a thousand years ago.” As Luna spoke, the very air seemed to grow heavy and dark.

Discord grunted and swatted the magical blade away. With a flash of teleportation, he appeared in the sky above, chaos magic twisting in his claws. “You insolent little filly,” he growled. “I give you the chance to rule next to me, and this is the thanks I get?”

Pitch-black darkness suddenly clamped down over Ponyville, so profound that for a moment Twilight feared she’d gone suddenly blind. Startled screams echoed throughout the town.

A moment later the light returned, but this time it wasn’t the light of the sun. A full moon rose from behind the horizon, bathing the town and silhouetting Discord in pale, shimmering silver. Celestia remained pinned to the wall, her white coat practically glowing in the moonlight.

“Rule next to you?” Luna said incredulously, stepping forward. “You must truly think me a foal.”

In an instant, it seemed to Twilight as if the darkness had come alive. Twisting, indefinite shapes, blacker than black, molded from thin air. As Luna strode forward they suffused around her hooves, wrapping and twisting tendrils around her legs.

“Tell me, great Emperor: Do you really think this was all your doing?”

The shapes seemed to grow more solid, and Luna planted her hooves on them as if they were solid stone. With each step, more dark somethings sprang forth to support her, rising into thin air like breathing steps of living darkness.

“My sister may have dreamed of your defeat for a thousand years, but do you know how long I have dreamed of hers?”

The pulsating tendrils around the Princess’s hooves began to reach higher with each of her strides into the sky. Wherever they touched, only blackness remained, spreading and twisting around Luna’s legs as if she were being charred by invisible fire.

“Truth be told, I hadn’t planned it this way. We were supposed to defeat you together, then perhaps one night I’d slit her throat or something equally satisfying. I suppose this will have to do instead.”

The swirling blackness had completely spread over Luna’s body, moving on to her wings and up her neck. Her feathers began to molt, burning to cold ash as they fell. In their place, dark skin grew and stretched over bone like the wings of a bat.

Discord hadn’t thrown any spells. Instead he coiled slowly, watching with wary eyes as the darkness consumed Luna. “Sounds like you really hate her,” he muttered. “I’m twisted, but that takes the cake.”

Luna scoffed. “Hatred? Even if you were to spend ten thousand years pondering on hatred would you come within a fraction of the loathing I feel for that creature down there. Count yourself fortunate I only mildly despise you, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

By the time Luna’s skyward steps had reached Discord, the blackness had consumed every last patch of midnight blue from the bottoms of her hooves to the tip of her horn. She blinked, and her pupils became vertical slits. She leaned in, her snout nearly touching his.

“Your reign is over, Emperor. This world belongs to me, and the time has come for you to kneel.”

Without warning, Discord slashed at Luna’s throat. She recoiled just in time, his claws barely missing the mark.

The entire sky suddenly became alive with stars. Thousands upon thousands, spilling out overhead, shimmering silver-white jewels. From a half-dozen of them, needle-thin beams of light stabbed through the darkness and converged on Discord.

He cried in pain and twisted through the sky. The beams flickered out, only to be replaced by twice as many. Wherever they touched, Discord included, tiny puffs of smoke wicked into the air. Over and over the beams stabbed, and everywhere Discord dodged, they followed.

Dark magic grabbed Discord and hurled him back to the wall where Celestia was still pinned by the magical blade. Piercing needles of starlight crisscrossed down from the sky, leaving no room for the captives to even flinch lest they be burned.

“What are you?” Discord gasped.

Celestia struggled and tried to push back the the spell with her own magic. “Luna, please,” she whimpered. “I didn’t mean—” Her words cut off as a shadowy tendril slammed her head into the stone wall. She cried out in pain.

“Luna’s not here anymore,” the blackened alicorn replied as she stepped closer to her prisoners. “Nightmare Moon has come to claim her own.”

A row of gleaming white fangs split the pitch-black face with a mirthless, horrible grin.

“You with your sun-worshipers, and you with your pathetic, chaos-ridden excuse for an empire,” she sneered. Her voice rang high and regal, equal parts terrible and beautiful. “Well, now it’s my turn. I shall remake this land, eradicate every last whispered breath of Chaos, and show these squirming insects the true meaning of Harmony.”

A slight motion caught Twilight’s eyes. She turned painfully from the spectacle and saw Applejack, gesturing weakly with one hoof. Her coat had burned completely away in many places, revealing the cracked and blistered flesh beneath. A large portion of her blonde mane had withered to brown, stringy ash.

At first Twilight wasn’t sure what Applejack was trying to accomplish, but then she saw. Rarity was huddled across the street, where the shadow of a doorway had mostly protected her and Pinkie Pie from the scorching sun. Magic glowed around her horn, and it only took another moment for Twilight to catch sight of the cracked gem floating motionless in the middle of the street.

Rarity was trying to get the last Element to Applejack, but her magic wouldn’t reach quite far enough.

Nightmare Moon laughed at Discord and Celestia’s horrified faces. She flicked her mane and stepped away slightly, then jabbed her magical blades forward, drawing yelps of pain from her prisoners.

“I have it in my power…” she said, withdrawing the blades, “but that would be too easy.”

Twilight didn’t even stop to think. Ignoring the pain shooting across her body, she reached out with her own magic toward the floating gem.

Nothing happened. It was still too far.

“Instead, I’ll give you a chance to redeem yourselves,” Nightmare Moon continued. “Bow to your Queen of Eternal Darkness, worship at the throne of Harmony Incarnate, and maybe… maybe if you please me, I’ll see fit to grant you mercy for the suffering I’ve endured.”

In truth, Twilight didn’t know what good her efforts would do. Even if Rarity and Pinkie were mostly okay, Applejack was in no shape to do any kind of fighting. Fluttershy was nowhere to be seen, and Rainbow Dash was lying motionless further down the street. Twilight didn’t even want to think what state the latter two might be in.

Still, something within prompted her. She couldn’t say what or why. Only that she knew this was the last chance to make things right, or at least whatever passed for right.

With monumental effort, she reached out her forehooves and dragged herself forward. Not enough. She tried again, ignoring the searing pain in her muscles and skin. She didn’t dare look at herself. Still not far enough.

With the last of her energy, she made a final pull forward. This was it. She gritted her teeth, concentrated, and willed the gem to come to her.

It moved.

She nearly passed out from relief. Rarity’s magic let go, and the gem shot toward Twilight. Without a moment’s hesitation, she let it fly past her and settled it gently in Applejack’s reaching hooves, where it flared with magic.

Applejack gasped and writhed to a sitting position. Her eyes were wide, bloodshot, but they somehow glowed with inner fire. When she saw Twilight, a smile cracked across her burned face.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Twilight just nodded.

Without warning, the gem pulsed brightly. An aura of magic washed over Applejack, illuminating her from within. Simultaneously, Twilight saw Rarity, Pinkie, and Rainbow’s gems all do the same.

The magic seemed to have an invigorating effect. Applejack suddenly stood under her own power and began walking.

Down the street, to Twilight’s infinite relief, Rainbow Dash also stirred and pushed herself to her hooves. Even at a distance she looked awful, wings and coat blackened, mane seared almost beyond recognition. Still, she managed to begin walking as well.

It took a moment for Twilight to realize it wasn’t quite walking, so much as they were floating. The gems seemed to be suspending them just high enough for their hooves to push off the ground, while removing the effort necessary to stand.

From the shelter of the building, Pinkie Pie and Rarity were also drifting toward Applejack and Rainbow. All four appeared to be converging on one spot.

Their actions hadn’t gone unnoticed though. Nightmare Moon had spotted them.

“What is this?” she demanded, turning from her captives. “What are you doing?”

None of the ponies answered her.

A motion near the end of the street caught Twilight’s eye. It was Fluttershy, also floating suspended in air by the magic of her gem. She wasn’t burned as badly as Rainbow, but looked significantly worse off. Her wing, previously just sprained, now hung bent and limp at her side, and one back leg dragged awkwardly.

Seemingly struck with realization, Nightmare Moon made a creeping imitation of a smile and laughed. “Ah, the fabled Elements of Harmony, and looking quite the worse for wear I must say. Come to finish off the losers now that the battle is won?”

Something clicked into place within Twilight. “Actually, I think they’re here to defeat you.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Twilight regretted them. They’d just slipped out against all logic or reason. She couldn’t even pin the thought process that had given voice to such a suicidal challenge.

But it was too late to take back. Dark magic curled around her body, and suddenly she was yanked off the ground. The violent motion aggravated her burned skin, making her cry out in pain.

A moment later, she found herself face to face with Nightmare Moon.

“And what makes you say that?” The words were dripping with spite and barely-contained anger.

“I thought it would be obvious,” Twilight mumbled. Part of her brain said the pain must be making her delirious, but she was past caring, so she made no effort to stop the words from spilling out.

“Applejack represents honesty, and you’ve been lying since you woke up. Rarity represents Generosity, but you’ve only thought of yourself. Pinkie Pie represents Laughter, and you’ve only brought sorrow. Rainbow Dash represents Loyalty, but you’ve gone and betrayed your own sister. Fluttershy represents kindness, and you’ve done nothing but make ponies suffer.”

Twilight shrugged as best she could. “Logical,” she murmured, on the verge of passing out.

Nightmare Moon’s grin had faded to a thin-lipped grimace. She drew Twilight closer. “It’s easy to consider the faults of another,” she said slowly, “but much harder to look on your own. You’re just as guilty as me, Twilight Sparkle, so don’t pretend to be anything more than the weak-minded, insignificant hypocrite you really are!”

The magic surged, flinging Twilight backward onto the street. She screamed as the cobblestones scraped over her burns before she slid to a halt near the others.

“You’re playing with fire, you know,” Discord said sullenly.

“Let them try,” Nightmare Moon scoffed. “If that sorry lot can do more than give me a sunburn, then perhaps I deserve it. But once they fail, which they will...”

She turned to face the approaching Element-bearers. An ethereal whip conjured out of thin air, writhing and snapping wickedly. “I’ve been waiting for another excuse to use—”

Taking advantage of Nightmare Moon’s distraction, Discord lunged. His scream of pain as he passed through the beams of starlight only gave her a split-second to glance back in surprise before he slammed into her.

The two tumbled, a mess of flailing limbs and bodies. Discord’s arms wrapped around Nightmare Moon’s throat from behind and he hooked his legs over her shoulders, driving her to the ground. She cried out in surprise.

“Always with the magic!” he grunted, squeezing and twisting with his snakelike body. “You forget the simple things!”

Lying in the street, Twilight could only gasp and moan. Her whole body was on fire, the pain so intense her head was swimming. Through double vision, she barely recognized the faces approaching. Eventually, one became clear, kneeling next to her.

“Hello dear,” Rarity said, stroking what was left of Twilight’s mane. “Don’t worry, we’re here, and we’re going to take care of you.”

“Wow, she looks worse than me,” Rainbow said from somewhere nearby.

“Come on, we can’t just leave her in the street,” Rarity said. “Pinkie, can you help me lift her?”

Twilight felt hooves and unicorn magic combine to lift her off the cobblestones. Somehow, the pain seemed to lessen a little, and her mind began to wander deliriously without it.

“Rarity,” she mumbled, “Do… do you remember when you asked… for a reason to ever trust me again?”

“…Yes, of course.” Rarity replied.

From somewhere deep inside, Twilight’s emotions somehow found enough liquid to prick her dry eyes with real tears. “Is being a friend enough?”

There was a moment of silence, but when Rarity spoke her voice cracked. “Yes… Yes dear, that’s more than enough.”

A warm surge of energy seemed to flow into Twilight. It started in her chest, and gradually diffused through her whole body, taking the pain and delirium with it. Within moments her head had cleared, and though she could still feel her injuries, they no longer felt debilitating.

“You think you can just show up with some fancy dark spells and dethrone me?” Discord hissed, drawing Twilight’s attention to where he and Nightmare Moon were still grappling in the middle of the street. “I’ve got an eternity on you, you little show-off! Why don’t you stop this game before you lose too badly?”

As Discord spoke, Twilight could see him struggling and panting with the effort of the fight. He was burned and blistered from the starlight, and great beads of sweat glistened over his body. Even so, he seemed to be winning, until Nightmare Moon moved in a way that threatened to turn Twilight’s stomach.

The black alicorn’s limbs contorted with a sickening series of cracks, dislocating from their joints and slipping out of the grapple. She rolled, throwing Discord to the cobblestones and pinning him with one hoof while the rest of her body crunched and jolted back into place. Dark tendrils sprang from the air and seized Discord, holding him down.

The ethereal whip descended, and Discord howled in agony.

“YOU THINK I’M PLAYING?” Nightmare Moon shrieked.

Over and over the whip cracked, lashing side-to-side across Discord’s writhing, twitching body as his agonizing screams echoed off the buildings.

“YOU THINK I WON’T END YOU RIGHT HERE AND NOW!?”

“Sister—!” Celestia began, but her words broke into a wail as the whip slashed across her chest.

“SHUT UP!” Nightmare Moon’s voice had lost all semblance of control and seemed to be teetering on the verge of insanity as her attention returned to Discord. “THIS! IS! MY! WORLD!” she screamed, each word punctuated by a lash. “MINE!”

Twilight glanced at the others suspended around her. Rarity and Pinkie looked positively sick. Fluttershy hid her face while Rainbow just stared slack-jawed.

Applejack’s face was frozen in horror. Two strokes of the whip had previously reduced the stalwart earth pony to a quivering, sobbing mess, and Discord had already taken a dozen times more. Of them all, she alone could conceive even a fraction of the suffering he was going through.

A moment later she caught Twilight’s gaze and gulped. “This… this ain’t right,” she whispered.

Twilight nodded, and she felt the magic within her shift and intensify. It cradled her, gently lifting her into a standing position among the others. She felt the magic binding her to each of them in turn, growing and spreading over her like a warm blanket. A moment later she realized her hooves weren’t touching ground. Rather, she was floating a fully pony height in the air, surrounded in brilliant, pulsing light. 

In the street ahead, Nightmare Moon looked up from the broken, whimpering creature beneath her hooves. Her whip stopped its vicious lashing, and she stared at the ponies floating toward her.

“You’re kidding. You are kidding, right?”

Twilight could have chosen from a thousand emotions in that moment. Anger, hatred, vengeance, and righteous fury all clamored for her attention. But she ignored them. Instead, she simply closed her eyes, smiled, and thought how nice it was to have friends again.





When she came to, Twilight found herself lying in the middle of the street. The sun was in the sky, but hovering near the horizon with a gentle yellow glow.

She basked in the warmth for a moment, then realized something was wrong: She wasn’t in pain.

Sitting up, she looked down at herself. Where she’d expected to see singed fur and blistered flesh, there was only her sleek and uniform coat. She felt her mane and inspected her tail. Both were completely intact and looked healthier than ever.

Confused, she looked up. The ruins of Ponyville were eerily quiet in the morning light. Or was it evening? She couldn’t quite tell. Amid the rubble, she spotted Rainbow, Rarity, Pinkie, Fluttershy, and Applejack, all lying either sleeping or unconscious in a rough semicircle around Twilight.

To Twilight’s relief all of them seemed to be restored just like her. Rainbow’s wings were no longer singed black. Fluttershy’s wing and leg didn’t seem bent at odd angles. Applejack’s coat was gleaming and healthy, just like Twilight’s own.

A sound nearby caught her ear. She glanced toward the jagged pile of brick and wood that used to be a house, and spotted movement. The debris shifted, and a white hoof emerged.

Princess Celestia dragged herself from the rubble. Unlike Twilight’s friends, her white coat was tattered and filthy. Cuts and bruises covered her entire body, and she seemed to be favoring her front right leg somewhat. She also seemed to be slightly smaller than before, her face younger and more rounded. But strangest of all, her ethereal mane and tail were gone. No longer flowing magically with pastel greens and blues, they were now formed of simple, plain pink hair, not altogether much different than Fluttershy’s.

Another motion caught Twilight’s eyes. A short distance away from Celestia, a twisted pile of rubble was moving. It took a few seconds before Twilight realized the rubble was Discord, limbs and much of his torso encased in ragged stone.

Like Celestia, he also appeared somewhat younger. His beard and eyebrows were no longer long and white, but dark and cropped. His body was slightly smaller, leaner, and his mismatched horns were only about half as long. As she watched, he gradually cracked and peeled away the shell-like covering with his magic, wincing in pain and gasping softly. 

A moment later, both Discord and Celestia spotted Twilight.

None of them spoke, only stared between each other for several moments. Then Celestia’s face turned quizzical, and she pointed at something.

Following the gesture, Twilight’s eyes settled on something she hadn’t noticed before: a small magenta gem cut perfectly into a six-pointed star, floating motionless a short distance from her hip.

A flash of light appeared in her peripheral vision, and she glanced back up. 

Discord was gone. 
> Epilogue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



I can’t simply ignore everything I’ve learned. We give ourselves to the will of Chaos so that nothing can submit us to that control again. I swore to uphold Chaos and bring its magic to all I meet. I’ve faltered, I’ve disappointed my mentor, and I must now make good on my vows.

I am Twilight Sparkle, Agent of Chaos, Harbinger of Entropy, Bringer of Discord. I will forsake my own petty desires to spread the Magic of Chaos and fulfill the ideals of our glorious Emperor, and I will start by destroying the Tree of Harm~



The splotch of ink on the torn page stared back at Twilight, a black mark on her record, casting judgement on her utter failure. Her new quill sat untouched on the steps of the throne room, next to an unopened inkwell. In her mind they seemed to be judging her for bringing them out and completely ignoring them.

Even though she knew it had only been days, it seemed like years since she’d written those words. Pinkie Pie might even be able to divine exactly how many years, if Twilight could only gather the courage to ask. Now as she stared at them, she wondered what had gone wrong.

She looked away from the page and up toward the twin thrones, one etched with a triumphant golden sun, the other with a silvery crescent moon. The colors had faded to near grey over a millennium and the once-sharp details weathered soft. They too seemed to be judging her from above, silent arbiters of law and order in a world given to chaos.

The great hall glowed with diffuse sunlight that angled through the west windows, here and there a sharp beam finding a broken pane to shine through. Twilight noted the light had been coming from the other direction when she’d decided to write in here. She imagined even the light itself was judging her for wasting the precious hours it granted.

When she looked down at the page again, a few of the lines seemed to jump out at her.



What am I? Discord’s pawn? A confused mare caught between worlds? A heartless deceiver?
…
The few weeks I previously spent in Ponyville were some of the best of my life. I made friends, when I didn’t even know that such a thing existed.
…
It goes against all the things I’ve been taught, but it felt so right.
…
I can’t simply ignore everything I’ve learned.



She stared at the final line until the rest of the text on the page faded to a blur. Absently she reached up and traced the fine golden chain draped loosely around her neck. Set into a modest pendant was the small gemstone she’d found after the battle. It was warm to the touch.



I can’t simply ignore everything I’ve learned.



All of a sudden, the grand throne room seemed unwelcoming and cold. The emptiness that had soothed her mind now pressed down and threatened to bury her.

With a flick of magic the journal snapped shut and flew into her bookbag, followed closely by the inkwell and quill. Her hooves echoed sharp and painful on her ears as she trotted away from the twin thrones without a glance back.

A few minutes later she emerged from the gate of the old castle and breathed a sigh of relief. The air out here didn’t smell of a thousand years of neglect, the deepening blue of the sky above didn’t need to be held up by a thousand tons of dead stone, and the trees shared their whispered thoughts instead of just echoing Twilight’s own back at her.

Under her hooves, she felt an unmistakable tingle of magic percolating up from the Tree of Harmony in the caves below. It was stronger out here than in the castle, for reasons she didn’t quite understand. If she concentrated, she could almost hear it talking to the gem around her neck, her horn catching subtle hints of harmonic feedback loops as if she were eavesdropping on a conversation in another room.

Letting the magic wash over her, she began to walk. It didn't matter where. She simply let herself be moved with the ebb and flow, eyes half closed and unfocused. Sometimes it told her to bear to the left or right, but mostly it just coaxed her forward.

But as she listened and walked, the conversation changed. Gradually, a third party began to murmur on the fringes, dark and indistinct. The Tree of Harmony faded and the new magic became more aggressive. It’s uncertain, chaotic fluctuations confused and muddled the magical fields even as the gem around her neck remained strong and unwavering.

Her hoof slipped.

Twilight’s moment of panic was brief but intense. She cried out and her eyes snapped open as she frantically scrambled to correct the imbalance that threatened to throw her head-over-hooves down a steep embankment.

A moment later her hooves found purchase and she managed to right herself. The trail from the old castle back toward Ponyville had many drop-offs and pitfalls, as her previous run-in with a thorny rosebush would attest.

“That’s what I get for wandering around with my eyes closed,” she grumbled.

It only took another second for her to realize that she knew this particular curve in the trail. Down the embankment and around the base of the large rock shelf was a clearing, directly opposite the small cave where she’d briefly hidden with Applejack and Rainbow Dash a day or two before.

Idly she wondered if the magic had meant to lead her here, or if it was only a coincidence. Regardless, she did faintly recall having lost a set of saddlebags nearby. Perhaps she’d be able to find them again.

Selecting another, less treacherous part of the embankment, she made her way down into the clearing behind and below the rock shelf. There was the stream where AJ and Rainbow had talked, the faint rune circles still burned into the undergrowth.

And the cave.

The cave itself seemed different than she remembered. When she’d sought shelter with Pinkie Pie, it had offered cool relief from a scalding rain of hot coffee. When she’d hid for the second time it was a calming respite from a panicky flight.

Now, the mouth of the cave gaped black and foreboding. Stalactites and stalagmites formed jagged teeth, waiting to devour anypony hapless enough to wander inside.

Twilight absently raised her hoof to rub against her left temple, where the barest hint of a headache was forming.

Still, something drew her to the cave, something she couldn’t describe. Ignoring the brief throb of pain in her horn, she cast a light spell and strode forward.

One thing that hadn’t changed was the cold, permeating and damp. It seemed to soak her coat and leach warmth from her very core. She shivered and decided to get out as soon as possible, once she’d found whatever it was she was looking for.

The search didn’t take long, unsurprisingly. The cave wasn’t very wide or deep, although the dense, cloying darkness made it seem much larger than it actually was. Propped against a large rock near the back of the cave, she found the saddlebags that had been abandoned when Princess Luna had caught her.

She sat on her haunches and pulled the bags closer to open one flap. Small canteen, empty. Some incidental toiletries, one woven shawl. She pulled the latter out and draped it around her shoulders to help offset the cold, then closed the flap.

Turning the bags around, she opened the other side. Her horn complained loudly about the double-duty it was having to pull by maintaining both the light spell and manipulating objects, especially with the monster of a headache she seemed to be nursing. Maybe Zecora could mix some herbs for her later.

She sifted through the contents. They were weighted more heavily, with one set of heavy socks, two books on chaos theory, and a small burlap sack.

Twilight’s heart skipped a beat when she saw the sack. She knew what it contained, what she’d very nearly forgotten in all the confusion of the last few days.

With trembling hooves, she reached in and pulled the sack out manually. It felt preternaturally heavy, more than she’d expected for its size. Even without directly using magic, she could feel the powerful, subtle spells coursing through the burlap, keeping the contents restrained.

Still foregoing magic, she gently pulled at the drawstring with her teeth. It loosened more readily than expected, and the top of the sack peeled open.

The Seeds of Discord remained just as she remembered them. Small, black, slightly misshapen. Innocuous. Innocent. She could probably just throw them in the back of the cave and forget they existed.

Her hoof was halfway back for the throw before a surge of harmony magic emanated from the gem on her necklace, just in time to stop herself from launching the seeds haphazardly into the dark. Careful to avoid spilling anything, she brought the sack back between both hooves. Her heart began pounding.

With a slight start, she noticed that the gem resting against her chest was suddenly glowing, casting warm light far beyond what her own light spell was doing. At the same moment, the burlap sack started vibrating in her hooves. To her horror the seeds within began to almost boil, rolling and curling like water in a pot.

Pushing past the near-splitting headache, she grabbed one of the seeds in her magic and brought it to eye level. It vibrated and twisted of its own accord, darkening the aura of her magic like blood in water.

For the briefest moment, she was back in Discord’s shockingly-normal office, staring at a golden coin that balanced vertically on the polished mahogany desk. The coin that had made her a forever slave to Discord’s chaos.

A small flame of indignant rage lit inside her. The empty husk of Twilight Sparkle had shambled out of that office indentured and broken. Chaos, for all she’d given it, had left her cold and empty, but she didn’t have to stay that way. There were friends waiting to fill the void with harmony and love and acceptance, if only she would let them.

Without a second thought, she levitated her Element of Harmony in front of the Seed of Discord and focused her thoughts.

Rarity, who offered me forgiveness even though I didn’t deserve it.

Her gem glowed, and the seed disintegrated to dust. She levitated another from the sack.

Fluttershy, who tended my wounds both physical and emotional.

The seed exploded in a tiny fiery flash. Another.

Pinkie Pie, who softened my heart with laughter and sympathy.

The seed peeled apart and withered grey. Another.

Rainbow Dash, who— 

Twilight paused, suddenly at a loss. Rainbow had rejected her over and over again, and all she could think of were the angry rants, the kicked walls, the deliberate glances away at Applejack’s threats of violence.

The elemental gem flickered, and the seed vibrated furiously.

“No!” she cried, concentrating. She thought of the cell in Celestia’s dungeon, that was when they’d talked the most. They’d mostly argued, they’d laughed briefly, and argued again.

Then Twilight found it, that moment, ever so fleeting, when both she and Rainbow had come to an accord.

Rainbow Dash, who met my apology with her own.

Her element glowed a little weaker this time, and the seed fought, but finally snapped and cracked as it was crushed to powder.

Twilight realized she had broken out in a sweat. She blinked the burn out of her eyes and levitated the last seed. “Okay, here we go…”

Applejack.

Her brain locked up as every memory of the past several days came rushing in: The beating in the canyon, the lies to cover it up, the threats in the forest, and finally the attack in the library.

Of all the ponies she’d once called “friend”, Applejack had treated her the worst, had literally tried to kill her twice, and hadn’t once apologized.

No, that couldn’t be all. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to think.

The seed hissed and writhed against her magic. It even seemed to grow a little, swelling and sprouting little nodules. The dark aura spread like a cancer through her magic, pressing on her mind.

She pushed back as hard as she could, fighting the physical and emotional pain in her own head. But try as she might, Twilight couldn’t find anything, past, present, or future, that would make up for the wrong Applejack had done, not even the token comforting hoof she’d extended under the broiling heat of Celestia’s sun-spell.

So if Applejack couldn’t make up for those things, how could they remain friends?

Then Twilight realized what she had to do. The only way she and Applejack could ever hope to be reconciled in the face of what had happened.

Bearing down until her head seemed like it would split open, she concentrated on the thought as hard as she could. The Element of Harmony glowed, and a thin beam of magic bisected the seed, slicing it neatly in two. Both halves fell to the ground, spasmed for a moment, and then withered away.

Twilight dropped the empty sack and gasped like she’d been holding her breath for hours. She slumped to the ground. Her forelegs were numb and trembling. Sweat dripped from her brows into her eyes. Her chest felt like it was going to burst if her heart didn’t stop pounding, pulse deafening in her ears.

On the plus side, her headache was completely gone.

She lay on the cave floor for some time, but eventually her heart slowed, her breathing returned to normal, and the feeling came back to her legs.

Pushing herself to a sitting position, she slowly and carefully inventoried her other belongings, rearranging them for weight and bulk. She transferred her journal, inkwell, and quill from the bookbag and folded it neatly into the saddlebags as well. The empty burlap sack she incinerated, kicking the ash in every direction.

When she emerged from the cave, it appeared to be quite some time later. The sun had dipped lower and was beginning to glow orange against the deepening blue of the sky.

Plenty of time to get back to Ponyville before dark, she thought as she moved toward the embankment below the trail.

“I suppose you must be rather proud of yourself.”

Twilight yelped in surprise. She whirled toward the source of the voice, but saw nothing there. Then a paw settled at the base of her skull and tightened gently.

She froze, not daring to turn around.

“I spent a literal lifetime cultivating those, you know. All that time and effort… poof! Just like that.”

She could feel hot breath brushing her mane and ear as it carried the words. Somehow the voice was different than she remembered, smoother and less gravelly, the throaty timbre slightly brighter. 

Twilight gulped against the lump in her throat. “I— I had to do it.”

“No, you actually didn’t. You chose to. There’s a difference.” Discord paused a moment, then sighed. “Probably the first real decision you’ve made for yourself since this whole debacle started.”

Another paw moved close behind Twilight, barely brushing her coat as it traced the golden chain around her neck. “That’s a cute bauble you’ve got there,” Discord mused. “I like the metaphor, quite apt.”

The gem resting against Twilight’s chest seemed to warm and hum in response. She focused on the magic emanating from it, tried to draw strength and confidence into herself from the Element.

“I have a new life now,” she said softly. “I’m not your slave anymore.”

“Don’t kid yourself. You’re a slave all right, just not mine.”

A tiny flare of righteous indignation ignited in Twilight’s voice. “I have friends, something you’ve never—”

“Friends on which you are now utterly, completely, wholly dependent,” Discord cut her off, moving in closer behind her and jabbing a claw toward the pendant. “You see that little trinket? It doesn’t work without the rest of them. What happens when things go south, when something comes along you or they can’t forgive, can’t work out? When they abandon you, which they will, I want you to remember this moment as the one when you sold your soul to Harmony in exchange for a worthless crystal necklace.”

Twilight’s heart fluttered in her chest as the flame of indignation blew out. She fought the urge to gasp for breath. With all her will she focused on the Element for strength. “I don’t care,” she breathed, shaking her head though the gesture was dampened by Discord’s grasp on her neck. “I don’t want to go back to the way I was.”

“Good,” Discord growled. “Wouldn’t want you anyway. Can’t imagine why they do either.”

The words pierced into Twilight’s soul like daggers, threatening to draw tears instead of blood. Doubt rose bitter in her throat as she began to hyperventilate. She squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on her friends, her Element, Harmony, anything to block out the seeds Discord was trying to sow in her mind. 

The grip on the back of Twilight’s neck flexed gently, claws just barely pricking below her jawline. A shudder ran through her body.

“What are you… going to… do?” she whispered. It was a fight just to keep her voice steady, one she seemed to be losing.

“See, that’s just it…” There was a small ping of magic and a familiar golden coin appeared, spinning slowly in mid-air. “I have no idea.”

Twilight gasped as the blood drained from her head and limbs.

“DISCORD!”

The presence behind Twilight fled so rapidly she nearly lost her balance. Above her on the embankment, the golden beams of the setting sun reflected from Celestia’s pearlescent coat, silhouetting the alicorn princess in fiery golden light that threatened to blind Twilight with its brilliance.

Spreading her wings, Celestia alighted from the embankment and swooped down into the clearing. She passed into the shadow of the rock outcropping, but even in the waning half-light she seemed to practically glow.

“Art thou unharmed?”

Twilight nodded weakly. The bloodflow hadn’t yet returned to her trembling knees.

Celestia circled around Twilight to face the shadowed cave entrance. “Explain thyself, trickster!” she called into the dark.

“Just catching up with my former student,” Discord’s lolling voice replied. If Twilight squinted, she could almost see the draconequus curled in the depths of the cave, a golden coin glinting and turning between his claws. “She’s overdue for her annual performance review, you know.”

Catching Celestia’s sidelong glance, Twilight shook her head violently. She scooted closer, and the princess’s wing draped over her protectively.

“She hath nothing to say unto thee,” Celestia said, “and if thou valuest thy corporeal form it would serve thee well to leave her in peace.”

A cold, mirthless laugh echoed from the cave. “You’ve got nothing on me,” Discord chuckled. “At best we’re equals now, thanks to your plucky band of bleeding hearts and their arsenal of weaponized costume jewelry.”

“And they shall not hesitate to use that power again, should the need arise!” Celestia shot back. “If thou fearest not me, it wouldst serve thee well to fear them.”

When Discord didn’t reply, Celestia nudged Twilight toward the embankment. They followed the gentler half of the slope back up to the trail, where the final rays of sunlight were beginning to fade below the horizon.

Just as Twilight’s hooves had settled on the familiar path, Discord’s voice rang out from the clearing. “We’ll talk later, Celestia!” he called. “Don’t go getting any delusions of grandeur just yet!”





The two ponies walked in silence for awhile, Discord’s last words seeming to echo around them. 

For Twilight, it was the first time she’d been alone with Celestia since the battle. They hadn’t spoken except in brief meetings to coordinate the early stages of disaster management with Ivory Scroll and other civic-minded ponies. Cleanup and rebuilding had already gotten well-underway within the last 24 hours or so, thanks to the town’s existing infrastructure for dealing with Chaos events.

Up close, the princess was far less imposing than before. Although she still towered over most normal ponies, it was no longer by an order of magnitude. Her formerly sharp, angular features had rounded and softened, as if she’d been unevenly de-aged in some fashion by the magic of the Elements. Her plain pink mane drooped loose and unstyled, and her coat and tail were in sore need of a brushing.

Lost in her own thoughts, Twilight found herself wishing more and more that the princess wasn’t here. Wishing that Celestia would just fly off and leave her alone. Wishing she could simply teleport away into the darkness and be alone again. Not because she needed solitude, but because the princess’s very presence was eating at her.

“I perceive thou art troubled,” Celestia said, breaking the silence.

Twilight nodded stiffly. “You could say that.”

“Do not fear the boastings of that creature,” Celestia began. “His words are poison, but he—”

“Actually I was thinking more about how you nearly broiled everyone alive yesterday.”

The break in Celestia’s gait was miniscule, but Twilight knew she’d struck a chord.

“I mean,” Twilight continued, “how did you think that would be okay, even compared to what Discord was doing? It doesn’t seem like something remotely in line with Harmony.”

“No,” Celestia agreed. “No, it is not.” She paused for a moment before continuing. “I come from a time long past, Twilight Sparkle. Even in a world of Chaos, thy values hath made mine seem… savage.” She spat after the last word, seemingly in self-disgust. “In return, the Elements of Harmony hath seen fit to levy punishment for my sins.”

So that’s what happened, Twilight thought. The blast of Harmony magic had somehow weakened both Celestia and Discord as they were caught in its path, to say nothing of whatever it had done to Nightmare Moon.

The breaking of the silence felt cathartic in a way, and Twilight ventured to voice her own question. “What did he mean by that?” she asked. “That you two would ‘talk later’?”

To her left, Celestia sighed heavily. “It means our victory was not absolute,” she said. “Discord still roams free, his magic lives in the earth, and many ponies still hath sworn unto him their loyalty. I fear long shall be the days until Harmony is truly returned.”

“But he’s willing to work with you?”

“I canst not say,” Celestia replied with a shrug. “He appears greatly changed since last I knew him. Perhaps he may listen to reason. Perhaps not. All that remains is to try.”

They walked in silence for a few more minutes. The last glow of the sun was fading, and Celestia summoned a light spell to illuminate their path.

“Princess?” Twilight said, breaking the silence again. “If you don’t mind me asking, I’ve been wondering: Why was Luna so angry with you?”

Celestia paused mid-stride. A strange expression crossed her face, something impossible to make out in the unusual magic light. A moment later she resumed walking. A few times she opened her mouth as if preparing to speak, then closed it without a word.

Several minutes later, just when Twilight was about to despair of ever hearing an explanation, the princess stopped again and turned to face her.

“The things I show unto thee are of great personal importance,” Celestia said softly. “I trust they shall be respected and shared with care.”

Twilight nodded.

The princess hesitated another moment, then moved to a patch of underbrush by the side of the trail. Twilight followed and mirrored Celestia’s motions, kneeling in the soft, overgrown grass.

Celestia closed her eyes and muttered a brief incantation. The sounds of the forest grew muffled, and the trees faded into a diffuse blur. Runes etched into the grass, and Twilight could see a faint spherical shell enclosing them protectively.

The light at the tip of Celestia’s horn faded, leaving them lit only by the faint golden glow of the runes and even fainter diffuse light of the shield itself. The princess leaned forward in a familiar motion, and Twilight bent her head until their horns met.

Twilight was prepared for the surge of shared thoughts this time and braced herself. Within moments she found Celestia. They navigated the flow together until Celestia stopped and nudged Twilight into an eddy.

The scene changed. She found herself in a wide field, verdant and lush unlike anything she’d ever seen in her life. Her young sister, dark and elegant, pranced and leapt in the distance with several smaller ponies. They were playing, it seemed.

She looked up. Towering above her was the form of another alicorn, but her features were obscured and abstract. The impression was of transcendent beauty and infinite understanding, lustrous white and flowing crimson, powerful and gentle beyond compare.

The form spoke, a glorious voice pealing like bells yet rolling like thunder. The words, such as they were, were unspeakable, but carried a feeling of immense sorrow and dread to the hearer’s soul.

The images faded, and Twilight found herself a separate entity again. Celestia led her further, into another memory.

She was within a cave, dark and cold yet not unwelcoming. The only source of light was a small, crystalline shape in the form of a sapling. Etched on it were words she could not read, and that faded when she tried to focus on them.  

To her side, a voice cried out. She turned just in time to see a flash of midnight blue disappear into the darkness, wailing incoherently. Into her heart settled a sadness deeper than she’d ever known.

The scene shifted more quickly this time. A room, details blurred and forgotten, but with a wide door leading to a balcony. She watched her sister pace and stomp, struggled to control her own building rage.

The dark alicorn motioned wide to the village sprawled below, and cried words that rang surprisingly clear. “It’s not fair! Why do they love you, and not me?!”

“I don’t know!” she heard herself shout in response. “I cannot control their hearts!”

“But you bask in their love while I slave over a sky none wake to adore!”

“That is not my fault!” She bit her lip, but more words burst forth, biting and cruel. “If that is how shallowly you see things, then maybe She shouldn't have blessed you in the first place!”

Her sister gasped and recoiled. The words suddenly wanted nothing more than to crawl back into thoughts, but they had flown. Dark wings spread to hide falling tears, then beat mightily, blowing the memory away to emptiness.

A shift. Her eyes blinked in the bright sunlight as she looked over the crowd. Pride swelled her breast, hollow and bitter. The faces below were featureless, blending together in a patchwork of colorful bodies, but the voices echoed in sharp clarity.

“Celestia returned!”

“Hail the Heavenly Mother!”

“Praise be to her name!”

“Celestia! Celestia! Glory to Celestia on high!”

The words pierced her heart like knives, yet she smiled and shone as the sun. They had what they wanted, the manifestation in flesh of the goddess their ancestors had slain, and none dared to question her will.

The memory changed again, and she stared into the dark, helmed face of the sister she’d nearly forgotten.

“Half a millennium gone and you return on the eve of battle,” she said as armor and weapons assembled around her. “Have you cast your lot with him that would seek to destroy me?”

Her sister scoffed. “I come to you from beyond the seas and mountains, from lands you have never seen nor heard rumor of, from a place where I was safe and loved and none tortured my ears with your name. No, it could not possibly be because I miss my sister or wish to help her.”

She stifled the rage rising within and sighed. “My mind is full of other things, and I cannot argue the past with you now. Evil is coming to ravage this land, so I ask: Will you stand with me tonight for the sake of those I have sworn to protect?”

A pause, then a nod. “I will.”

“Good. Armor you have, weapons you will find with the guards. Speak my name and they will give you whatever you need.”

“In that case, one more thing I must know.” Her sister’s voice was soft, but rumbled with hidden dangers. “I have walked dreams and heard whispers in the night. They speak of a treachery, a betrayal I dare not imagine, so I wish to hear it from your lips before I believe it. Tell me, sister, what do they call you these days?”

A great howl split the air, and the wall of the palace ceased to exist. The sky outside filled with unspeakable horrors, descending as far as her eyes could reach. A hellish chorus of terrified screams rose into the air as the city below fell victim to incomprehensible destruction.

Then a creature appeared, amorphous and alien, it’s very impossible existence unmaking reality in its wake. It reached out, and its claws wrapped her in cold, rigid, unyielding darkness.





Twilight jolted awake. It took her a moment to reconnect with herself, to remember the soft, cool grass under her belly and the body that seemed momentarily too small. Her vision was shrouded in darkness. It took several tries before she was able to locate her magic. Finally she found it, and the spell illuminated her horn.

In the faint light Princess Celestia appeared, lying on her side within touching distance. Her eyes were tightly closed, but twisting rivulets of tears ran down her cheeks and traced her jaw to fall on the grass like rain. Her whole body shook with racking gasps, and her lips trembled as she bit down to stifle the whimpers in her throat.

“I— I couldn’t save them,” she whispered. “I couldn’t save her and now she’s g-gone again!”

Twilight sat in awkward silence for a moment before speaking. “You… you made mistakes,” she offered gently. “Everypony makes mistakes, but you didn't force her to do anything.”

“Mistakes.” Celestia wiped her snout and took a shuddering breath as she raised herself to a more dignified position. “A broken dish may be called a ‘mistake.’ A wrong turn may be called a ‘mistake.’ Those do not ravage worlds and destroy untold millions of lives. Her actions were born from my own, and those… there is no word for those.”

They both fell silent, save for an occasional sniffle.

After several moments, Twilight spoke again. “In the first memory you showed me, the pony I couldn’t see: Was that…?”

“Yes. That was Her.” The princess wiped at her cheeks and stared into the indistinct dark of the forest for several moments. “I cannot say why I thought to supplant Her, why I tried to take Her glory. All for my own selfish pride.” She choked on the words. “Twilight… I cannot even remember Her face! I took Her name and Her throne, and now She's left me as well!” A fresh wave of sobs broke the night air.

Within her chest, Twilight’s heart swelled, and she made no effort to restrain the tears that burned her own cheeks. She pondered the memories, the emotions she’d felt and the words she’d heard. She knew that she’d only been given the briefest glimpse into those memories, and did not envy the crushing responsibility they held. Those were things the princess would carry for eternity, that only she could come to terms with in her own time.

But perhaps in some small, momentary, insignificant way, Twilight could offer comfort.

She reached out and rested her hoof on the princess's shoulder, hoping the gesture was appropriate. “Would it help…” she began, halting and unsure. “…Would it help if I called you by your real name instead?”

The princess turned to look at Twilight. Her eyes shimmered again and another series of silent sobs wracked her shoulders. She nodded.

Scooting forward, Twilight wrapped Solaria in a tight embrace. The princess tensed initially, but a moment later she leaned in and returned the gesture as her tears soaked into Twilight’s mane.

In the back of Twilight’s mind, a tiny voice echoed. Sometimes, everypony just needs a hug.





“Do you want to come in with me?”

They were standing just outside the circle of light from Fluttershy and Zecora’s cottage. It was one of the few buildings in Ponyville that hadn’t suffered any damage during the battle, and the Element bearers had met there earlier to discuss the events of the past several days. Apparently they were still there, muffled voices drifting through the walls and into the night.

Solaria shook her head at Twilight’s question. “No, there are other tasks I must attend to,” she said. “Besides, I fear my presence would be a distraction from the things you wish to say.”

Much as she hated to admit it, Twilight knew Solaria was right. Squaring her shoulders, she took a deep breath and strode toward the house.

“Oh, and Twilight?”

Twilight paused and turned.

“Keep me appraised? Long and weary shall be the days ahead, and it would be well for me to hear good tidings from time to time.” Solaria smiled gently.

“I will,” Twilight replied, returning the smile. “Good night, princess.”

“Good night, Twilight Sparkle.”

Turning back toward the house, Twilight continued forward. With each step, the reality of what she had to do became more and more frightening, but she pressed on against the fear.

As she approached the cottage, the muffled voices within became more distinct and she began to make out words.

“... is difficult, but how else do you expect to work it out?” Rarity was saying.

“Ain’t that I don’t want to,” Applejack said, “but it’s jus’ not that simple!”

“Yeah, I mean how do you say something like that?” Rainbow agreed.

A quiet voice that must have been Fluttershy mumbled something indistinct.

“Well sure, sounds easy enough coming from you,” Applejack grumbled.

Reaching the house, Twilight stepped onto the porch. At the sound of hooves on wood, the voices inside suddenly cut off. The obvious correlation made her hesitate, but she forced herself to walk up to the door and tap softly.

“I’ll get it!” Light hooves trotted into the entryway. The latch rattled, and the door swung open to reveal Pinkie Pie. “Twilight!” she exclaimed, leaping forward and wrapping Twilight in a crushing hug. “We were wondering when you were going to show up!”

Twilight chuckled awkwardly and returned Pinkie’s hug. It felt good to know that of all the ponies here, at least one was unabashedly happy to see her. She noted the thin gold chain draped around Pinkie’s neck, holding a finely-cut gem similar to Twilight’s own.

“Come on in, we’ve got tea and cookies,” Pinkie said, releasing the hug and motioning her inside. “I managed to salvage some Sweet Wheats from the Sugar Polyhedron; Mister Cake said they can’t sell the stuff that fell on the floor, so he let me have them for free… as long as I don’t let anypony without my constitution eat them, whatever that means.”

She whispered the last sentence and nudged Twilight in the ribs with a conspiratorial wink.

“That sounds… great,” Twilight replied, stepping into the small foyer.

“They’re in the sitting room,” Pinkie said, pointing. “I’ll run to the kitchen and get you a cup and saucer. HEY EVERYPONY! TWILIGHT’S HERE!” She bounded down the entry hall and around a corner, leaving Twilight alone by the front door.

With a deep breath to steady her nerves, Twilight stepped to the entrance of the sitting room. Rainbow Dash and Rarity were sitting reclined on cushions around the low coffee table. Fluttershy and Zecora were snuggled on one end of the couch. Applejack sat stiffly on the other end, conspicuously looking anywhere but at Twilight. Like Pinkie, they all wore simple gold chain necklaces set with their respective gems.

Unsurprisingly, the plate of Sweet Wheat cookies on the table appeared completely untouched.

“…Hey girls,” Twilight said, waving weakly. “Hope I’m not crashing the party.”

“Not at all, dear,” Rarity said, getting to her hooves. She trotted over and offered a brief hug, then steered Twilight into the room. “We were actually hoping you’d show up. Here, have a seat.” She pulled a chair from the wall then returned to her cushion by the coffee table, sitting instead of reclining this time.

Twilight took the offered chair. She smiled as genuinely as possible at the faces around her. Fluttershy briefly returned the smile in full, while Zecora gave a half-smile and a nod. Rainbow waved weakly and half-smiled with a sidelong glance. Applejack didn’t look at her or smile, but merely nodded acknowledgment.

Silence settled over the room.

Rarity coughed. “Um, yes… well, now that the ‘pleasantries’ are out of the way, it’s a good thing you’ve shown up, darling. We were just discussing a few things, and Applejack has something she’d like to say to you.”

“That’s actually why I’m here,” Twilight said. It took monumental effort to keep her voice from wavering. “There’s something I wanted to say to Applejack too.”

For the first time, Applejack turned from studying the drapes and looked at Twilight. Her expression was a mask, betraying nothing she might have felt.

“Oh!” Rarity exclaimed. “Well, that’s good! Um… would either of you prefer to go first?”

Silence. Twilight stared the plate of dusty cookies, trying to avoid Applejack’s inscrutable poker face.

After a few moments, Rarity sighed in exasperation. “Fine. Applejack, you go first, dear.”

Applejack’s expression cracked and she huffed indignantly at Rarity. “Why do I gotta go first!?”

“Because we already know what you need to say,” Fluttershy piped up from the end of the couch, “and it’s better to get it out now in case Twilight needs to change what she plans to say.” She looked pointedly at Twilight, her eyes carrying an implicit warning.

Rainbow groaned and rolled her eyes. “Just… get it over with AJ,” she said.

With a heavy sigh, Applejack left the couch and circled the coffee table. She sat on her haunches a few paces away, looking at the floor. Close up, Twilight could see the gem in Applejack’s pendant was still cracked down the center, hairline fractures muddling what would have been a radiant orange core.

“Twilight, I—” Applejack began, then trailed off. Her mouth continued working silently for a moment, then she looked up into Twilight’s eyes. “I let my temper get way outta hoof, and… I did things I can’t take back. I don’t expect anythin’ can make that right, but I wanted to say—”

Twilight stepped off her chair and closed the distance in two strides. She wrapped her legs around Applejack’s shoulders and pulled her close.

“—I’m sorry?” Applejack’s voice trailed into a confused question.

“I forgive you,” Twilight whispered, “and I’m sorry too.”

For a moment nopony moved. Then she felt Applejack’s forelegs shift up and wrap tentatively around her.

In an instant, Twilight’s heart seemed to swell with relief and joy. She squeezed Applejack tighter. A deep shuddering breath wracked Applejack’s chest, and Twilight felt something damp on the side of her neck.

A subtle hum and tingle of magic made them jump. Both ponies pulled away and glanced down, just in time to see a faint glow wash over Applejack’s gem.

When the glow faded, the crack had disappeared.

For several seconds they looked between each other and the gem, eyes wide. Then Applejack’s mouth twitched into a half-smile and she chuckled. “H-how ‘bout that?” she said, wiping her eyes self-consciously.

“Yeah, wow…” was all Twilight could say. Her heart was fluttering inexplicably at the far-too-timely manifestation of Harmony magic. She dabbed her own eyes. “Um… how’s your little sister?” she asked.

Applejack sniffed. “A little shaken still, but she’s a tough filly. She and Spike are upstairs sleepin’.”

“I’d like to talk to her tomorrow and apologize,” Twilight said gently. “If that’s okay with you.”

With a nod, Applejack patted Twilight on the shoulder. “Sure thing.” She dabbed her eyes once more, then returned to the couch. “There, got it over with,” she said to Rainbow, but the smile she briefly flashed at Twilight was sincere.

Twilight glanced around the room, feeling more than a little self-conscious. Fluttershy was positively beaming at her. Rarity looked like she was about to burst into tears. Zecora smiled again, and this time it was full and genuine.

“Um, since we’re doing this thing…” Rainbow stood up and cleared her throat. “I’m sorry for the stuff I said before.” She stuck out one hoof. “We cool?”

If it were possible, Twilight’s heart grew even fuller. She felt herself beaming at Rainbow as joy suffused through her veins. With tears gently pricking at her eyes again, she bumped Rainbow’s hoof with her own. “Yeah… We’re cool.”

At that moment, Pinkie Pie came bounding out of the kitchen, a teacup and saucer stuffed securely into her dense mane. “Whew, sorry that took so long!” she exclaimed. “Your cupboards make no sense, Zecora.” Then she spotted the beaming faces and damp cheeks, and her jaw dropped. “WHAT? Don’t tell me I missed the big reconciliation!”

The other ponies began to chuckle, and Twilight felt as if she would burst. This was what she’d been missing. This was where she belonged, with ponies who loved her and that she loved in return.

“Um, Zecora,” Twilight said, after the chuckles had subsided and the hot tea was placed before her. “Do you have some parchment I can borrow? I need to pen a letter.”





Long after the two ponies disappeared over the rise, Discord stared after them from the shadows of the clearing. He twirled the gold coin absently, pondering what was to come next.

Of course he wasn’t about to just hand over his entire empire to the first demi-goddess who came along, even if she had nearly bested him. His loyal supporters numbered thousands, his magic ran deep in the earth, and none of that would change if she were to lock him in stone for another millennium. Besides, what would it accomplish? Just another mad power struggle when he eventually freed himself?

No, she needed him if she was going to have any hope of carving out a place for herself in this world. She knew it as well as he did, and he fully expected her to reach out in the coming weeks to work out some kind of deal.

He hadn’t decided yet how he wanted to approach it. Help her? Actively subvert her? Get out of her way and just let events unfold? Maybe all three. Each option held so many intriguing possibilities in a world that had gotten ironically stale for his tastes.

For starters, there was the Princess of the Sun herself. She intrigued him more than anything. He’d never really gotten a chance to know her before, what with the surprise attack and all. It would be quite fascinating to take things a little slower this time, see what made her tick, especially now that the Elements of Harmony had gone and made them essentially equals. That did annoy him somewhat, but the damage was done and he might as well make the best of it.

A silvery light crested the trees above, and the moon crept into view.

Discord glanced up, studying the curious new pattern of dark craters pitting its surface. If he squinted, it was almost possible to imagine they formed the silhouette of an alicorn’s head in profile.

Of all the things he’d planned for, that hadn’t been one of them. He’d fully expected Luna to freak out again and betray her sister, but had completely underestimated the sheer hatred she carried in her heart, to say nothing of the powerful dark magic she’d somehow harnessed on her own. Idly he wondered how long Solaria would keep her up there, and what new terrors the world would know when and if Nightmare Moon were ever released.

And then there was Twilight.

He stopped twirling the coin. She had surprised him. He’d known for years that something was different about that pony. She didn’t fit into his world, no matter how much she’d wanted to. He’d humored her desires, tried to mold her, but every time she seemed close to a breakthrough she’d just crawl right back into her little box of order. It stung to count her as a loss on his scoreboard, but now that she’d finally found a place to call home, watching her would be almost as fun as Solaria, if not moreso.

Plus, since she now seemed to bear the enigmatic sixth Element, it seemed wise to keep an eye out and avoid drawing her ire. Being encased in stone wasn’t all that bad aside from the whole not-moving-but-still-aware thing, but it was definitely low on the list of vacations he wanted to take. 

He eventually realized he’d been standing in the clearing far longer than intended. News of the Sky-Mares violent return would have spread across the empire by now, and his lackeys were probably in a panic wondering where he was. Time to return to his throne and do some damage control in the interim.

He looked down at the golden coin in his paw and considered it for a moment. Then he flicked it into the air and watched it bounce twice on the earth before settling.

A smile cracked his misshapen face. “Now that could be interesting.”

With a flash the Lord of Chaos vanished, leaving the clearing empty and silent.