> The Elder God > by Another Army Brony > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > The Beast Stirs > --------------------------------------------------------------------------         I have been called by many names across the aeons, spoken in tongues long since forgotten, as I myself have been forgotten. There once was a time when my name was whispered around campfires in the dead of night, always in hushed tones, lest I overhear a solitary murmur of it and answer my summons. Those who dwell the earth now have heard of me only as legend, passed down from the times before, when monsters still roamed the land. Once, I was viewed as a God. Now, few so much as know my name.         I have been absent for far too long, allowing those that dwell to become complacent, ignorant. They believe that monsters aren't real, that they were just stories told to frighten misbehaving foals.                  I think it is time to remind them of why they fear the dark. They will know my name, my wrath.                  I am the banished Elder God, and I now awake from my slumber.                                    Celestia found herself tossing in her sleep, troubled by a vague sense of dread that permeated her dreams. She dreamt that she was walking across the southern gardens on a lovely mid summer morn, with naught but the rustle of the winds and the songs of the birds for company. And yet as she walked, she couldn't fight off the feeling that there was something ominous hanging overhead, though she was unable to spot it despite her best efforts. Slowly, the dreamscape around her began to lose its vividness, as if the color were slowly being sucked out of it. The breeze stilled, the songbirds fell silent. It was as if a grey shroud had descended upon the land, stealing the colors and muting the sound until the silence was tangible. Black storm clouds began to move in from the horizon with terrifying speed. Her nameless terror returned, and Celestia found herself walking briskly in the direction of the castle, of sanctuary. A peal of thunder rent the air, rolling across the sky with all the grace of a landslide. The very sound raised her hackles, bringing her to increase her speed to a swift canter.                  A blazing fork of lightning pierced the air, bringing with it another cacophonous peal of thunder. The sky was now nearly as dark as night, and a frigid wind was beginning to kick up. Driven on by her unknowable sense of dread, she redoubled her efforts. It wasn't the storm that troubled her, for she'd seen a number of tempests in her day. No, there was something foul on the wind. The stench of malfeasance was heavy on the breeze, and it was from that she ran, not the storm itself.                  As the first heavy drops fell, she abandoned the ground for the air, seeking refuge at the speed of flight. It was luck perhaps that she did so at that moment; no sooner was she in the air than the ground quaked and roiled as wounded serpent might, cleaved by growing chasms that stretched down into blackness most foul. Another peal of thunder, this one different than the previous ones in volume and timbre, echoed from behind her. Flying for all she was worth, she fled the sound. Another quake and peal swept past her, and she succumbed to her curiosity. She twisted her head to look over her shoulder and immediately regretted it. Snapping her head around to the front once more, she flew as fast as her terror could carry her.                  Beneath her, the ground shook furiously, a black gash racing over the ground in front of her as the very earth was sundered. Oddly enough, her only thoughts were of the garden, and the amount of work that must be done to repair the cobblestone path and flowerbeds. She was snapped from her musings as an unholy clamor rose from behind her. It was as if the world itself was screaming in agony. Fear and curiosity battled in her mind, and in the end it was curiosity that won out. Turning her head, what she saw conjured a fear in her the likes of which she'd never known. Frozen by terror, her wings locked up and she plummeted toward the gaping maw that had opened in the earth beneath her. Bereft of all reason and abandoned by all hope, she screamed.                                    Captain Ivory Lance, the Officer of the Guard for the night shift, was making his rounds as usual. He'd found one of the new recruits asleep at his post about a half hour ago, and he couldn't help but smile as he pictured the colt furiously stammering excuses; the recruit was probably only on his second lap around the perimeter wall. It would be a long night for him, but Lance had no doubt that his lesson had sunk in. That colt wouldn't soon be found asleep at his post again. Captain Lance chuckled at this, remembering his own days as a recruit, days long since passed. An earsplitting shriek jarred him from his reverie. In this wing, at this time of night, there was only one being whose shriek that could have been. Without hesitation, he turned and sprinted towards the royal quarters as fast as his hooves could carry him, unsure of what to expect upon his arrival.                                    Celestia awoke to the sound of her own scream as she thrashed madly in the covers. In her panic, she envisioned her sheets as the cloying embrace of that most fiendish of apparitions that had chased her from sleep. Fighting against her sheets with a strength borne of terror, she managed to throw them off of herself with such force that they sent sprawling the guard that had picked that moment to burst through the door. Chest heaving, Celestia valiantly struggled to catch her breath and calm her racing heart. Outside, there was muffled shouting, though this was of little concern to her. The phantasms of the nightmare were slow to depart, but depart they did. Why then, if the nightmare was over, did Celestia still feel pressed upon by an unknowable terror?                                    Captain Ivory Lance swore as he struggled against the silken sheets that imprisoned him. No sooner had he pushed open the door to Her Royal Chambers than he was sent sprawling by a soft golden missile. Finally managing to extricate himself before any of the junior guard arrived, Captain Lance stood and composed himself, pushing the door open far more cautiously this second time. Finding no missiles inbound, he swung the door open fully, approaching the figure hunched on the bed with equal parts trepidation and concern. Thrice, Her name he intoned; thrice, silence was his only reply. Venturing closer, he saw that Her eyes were tightly shut, as if against a bright light. She took great, shuddering breaths; deep inhalations and exhalations at a measured pace. Moments passed in silence, broken only by the sound of curious steps halting just outside the threshold of the chamber. When She spoke, it took Captain Lance entirely by surprise; Her honeyed voice was tinged with the bitter vinegar of fear.                  "Captain Lance, so good of you to drop by. To what do I owe this visit?" As She spoke, Celestia drew herself up to her full height, managing to look regal and magnificent even in the dead of night, even with a disheveled mane. Lance had encountered many strange things in the castle at night, and had much practice keeping his bearing in most any circumstance. Even so, Her Majesty's response shook him.                  "Your Highness, I was responding to a most dire sound emanating from the chambers. Surely, you too must have heard this?"                                    Celestia turned her gaze towards the Captain of the Guard, sizing him up. He was a fine example of the Guard: standing raptly at attention. His armor gleamed even in the wan moonlight spilling through the window, a finely muscled specimen indeed.  And yet, there was a glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes, as if unsure of how to respond to her admittedly unusual behavior. "Relax, Captain. All is well. I found myself amidst a night terror, nothing more. Now that it's passed, I should very much like to return to my slumber, thank you."                  Captain Lance nodded once, snapped a crisp salute, and faced about. Shooing the curious onlookers with a stern glare, she lost sight of him as the doors gently closed. With a muffled click, they latched shut, and Celestia allowed her facade to crumble. Her terror had neither vanished nor abated, and she knew that she would find no rest this night. Instead, she made her way to the archives. The creature from her nightmares was unlike any she had ever seen before, and she endeavored to learn more about it if she could. And even if there should be nothing relevant in those dusty pages, the smell of ancient ink and parchment had always soothed her. Resolute, she set off into the depths of the archive's tomes.                                    In her sleep, a lavender mare tossed and turned, her dreams fraught with ill omens.                                    Deep within the bowels of the earth, in a place forgotten by time itself, a maleficent being slowly came awake. After millennia of death-like slumber, this was an achingly slow process. Shaking loose the detritus that had accumulated atop its form, the creature stirred with great effort. The great basalt citadel stood silent as a tomb, save for the whispers of madness in the dark. Across the vast expanse of time since its banishment, the vile creature had lain in slumber, awaiting the day that it would rise once more and bestow darkness upon the world. The time was not yet at hand, though it drew near. The eldritch terror needed a way to prepare the world above for its coming, someone to act as its envoy and sew the seeds of terror and discord. Twisting the shadows together and against themselves, the terrible creature formed a being in the likeness of those who dwelt above. An incredibly small quadruped figure with a disproportionate head stared blankly back. It was but a husk, lacking any of the faculties of a sapient being. To grant it such, the dread creature tore a fragment of a soul from beyond space and time, placing it within the golem of shadows. With a gasp and a convulsion the golem shook, falling weakly to its knees. For weakness, the Elder One had no time. Siphoning a miniscule fragment of its terrible might, the eldritch creature funneled it into the golem, which again convulsed. As the cataclysmic power coursed through its body the golem ignited under the onslaught, power surging through its mortal frame like lightning through a cotton thread. The green flames of eldritch power enveloped the golem but did not burn it, as it was from within the golem that the flames sprung. The Elder One commanded the flames to quench, and they were snuffed as if they'd never blazed.                  "Rise," it commanded the golem, and rise the golem did. "Go forth unto the world and warn them of my resurgence. My demand is for a thousand of those who dwell above to be my offering. I've slumbered for ages, and I hunger. Should they fail, I shall decimate the land to sate my hunger. It's high time they remembered why they fear the dark. Go forth, golem, and do my bidding."                  The golem nodded, and with a flash of blackness sheathed in purple, disappeared.                                    It was at this point that everything went awry, as the shade channeled the Elder One’s dark magic into a teleportation spell. The fabric of space was torn asunder as the shade slammed into a magical barrier. The obstacle was made by forces even older and more powerful than the one that had called the shade into being, yet it was unable to stop the shade entirely. The barrier had been emplaced to imprison a banished God, not a shade. As small as the shade was, with as much power as had been endowed to him, he was able to pierce the veil and pass through. Despite its failure to contain the shade, the barrier was successful in disrupting its passage greatly. In tearing through the barrier the shade had also torn open the darkness between space, sending him careening out of control into a place he was not meant to be. He appeared in a dimension far removed from the one he’d departed, suspended nearly a dozen meters above the earth. It took him just over a second to hit the ground, his head bouncing off the packed gravel like a child's toy. A moment of incredible pain, bright as a solar flare, and then it all went black.                                    Twilight awoke with a jolt as a loud thump sounded outside her home. The first streaks of dawn were breaking the horizon, and she found herself mildly annoyed that she was up so early. Had it been an hour earlier that she'd been disturbed, there would still be time to go back to sleep. An hour later, and she would have likely been roused by Spike or her alarm spell. As it was, however, she was awakened at the perfect time to deprive her of much needed rest. Her annoyance getting the best of her, Twilight poked her head out of the upper window, intent on giving whoever had disturbed her a piece of her mind. What greeted her below stole the wind from her sails of indignation, and before she had consciously processed it she’d already teleported beside the broken form on the gravel below.                  The figure was sprawled along the path to town, bleeding profusely from a gash to the head. Instinctively, Twilight cast a healing spell on the wound, the flesh knitting back together before her eyes. The flow of blood slowed, then stopped as it was stemmed by the spell. The unconscious colt briefly flirted with consciousness as his eyes fluttered open, only to flutter close once more with a weak moan. From the look of things, this pony was in bad shape and in need of medical attention. With a flash of lavender light and a loud "pop", she teleported them both to the clinic in the heart of town.                  Her sudden arrival in the waiting room with a bloody and unconscious pony caused quite a stir, to put it mildly. In the blur of activity that ensued, she was questioned by a half dozen nurses on just what had happened to the fellow. Time and time again, Twilight told her tale. Time and again, she faced the question "is that all?", as if she were trying to hide something. Quickly running low on patience, she wanted nothing more than to go home and pour herself a nice tall mug of coffee and try to put this behind her. Compounding her annoyance was the fact that she had yet to eat breakfast, something her stomach continuously reminded her of as she filled out a number of forms.                  It would seem, to her further annoyance and incredulity, that Ponyville had a hospitality law left over from the pioneer days. As the nurse administering the paperwork explained, Twilight was not yet free to leave and sate her hunger. Simply put, this law dictated that anypony who was brought to the clinic that had no family able to claim them became the ward of the pony that had brought them to the clinic. The law had originally been written based on the notion that if you cared about somepony enough to drag them to the clinic, you cared enough about them to watch over them until they were healed. In some ways, this was still valid, while in other ways it was little more than a burden. At any rate, it was of no concern to Twilight, as she signed the release and was soon on her way home to the warm coffee and oatmeal awaiting her there.                  Twilight may have been tired, hungry, grumpy, and generally unhappy that morning, but she read the terms and conditions before she signed. It wasn't until later, however, as she brooded over a steaming mug of coffee, that it fully dawned on her what she'd just agreed to. If this strange pony had no family to speak of, then she would have to take him in and nurture him. With a pained groan, Twilight smacked her face into the table. Hopefully, this odd unicorn she'd never seen before had family in town. Otherwise... Well, she tried not to think about that. Groaning, she reached for the pot of coffee. This was going to be a long day.                                    In a dim room at the Ponyville clinic, a tar black pony tossed against white sheets. Visions of death and destruction are the only reality he knows, trapped inside a nightmare too vivid to be anything but real. He stands atop a slight hill, the bloody light of a crimson dawn breaking in the east. Before him lies the aftermath of a slaughter beyond the scope of words, torrents of blood flowing in crimson rivulets betwixt mounds of dismembered limbs and viscera. There is no sound but that of the breeze gently whispering past; there are no survivors to cry out. The sodden ground is stained crimson with gore and scorched black in various places. The coppery smell of blood and death is the only scent to be found, save for the occasional fleeting stench of charred bones and flesh. Scavengers were just beginning to arrive at the slaughter, carrion eaters presiding over an infinite banquet. The golem finds his dream-self laughing, pleased beyond measure with his handiwork. The golem knew that this was the product of his own labors, though he knew not how or why this was done. Instead, he was conflictingly filled with satisfaction and desire at once; satisfaction for the carnage that had been wrought thus far, and desire for more. More blood, more death… there must be more. There will be more. The golem felt a rage and a lust for blood that was colder than the most arctic depths burning within him. Dark whispers murmured just beyond the edge of his consciousness, hints of a purpose that he’d forgotten. Alas, they slipped through his grasp whenever he tried to focus on them, as if they were nothing more than the idea of smoke.         The dark pony awoke suddenly, jolting back to consciousness as if  his mind was dropped from a great height into his own body. He recalled in explicit detail the visions he’d seen, for they were too real to be dreams. Be they of the past or the future he could not tell, only that they were woven into the fabric of time at some point along the great tapestry. The urge to destroy and slaughter had abated significantly, but not entirely. Seeking an outlet, the dark pony looked for something to destroy. The only thing within reach was a glass vase holding a single red flower, sitting atop the nightstand to his right. Reaching out a shaky limb, he pushed the vase over and chuckled in anticipation of the sound of shattering glass.         The sound never materialized. Instead, the vase slowly reappeared, unbroken, sheathed in a cerulean glow as it floated back to the nightstand. No sooner had it been replaced atop the nightstand than he became aware of a presence to his left. The dark pony turned to see who or what it was that intruded on his destruction. He turned just in time to see the cerulean glow of a horn slowly fade, and he was able to put two and two together and deduce that this pony was the one that had thwarted his attempted destruction.         The dark pony’s glare was met by an nonplussed stare from the azure mare standing in the doorway. “Well, it’s good to see that you’re awake,” she stated matter-of-factly. “How are you feeling?”         The question caught him slightly off guard, but he quickly recovered. “I… uh, fine, I guess.”  The blue pony seemed to accept this, nodding and scribbling something on a clipboard.         Again the level gaze returned to meet the dark pony’s glare. “Can you tell me your name, sir?”         This question was much harder to respond to. The dark pony didn’t know how to answer, drawing a blank whenever he tried to remember his name. His hesitation succeeded in drawing a raised eyebrow from the mare with the clipboard as his glare faltered. What is my name? he thought. Indeed, it was more than just his name that eluded him; he could recall nothing whatsoever prior to his vision of death and destruction. All he could recall was a vague feeling of shadows in darkness.         The impression of shadows seemed to call to him, and from it a singular word emerged; ‘Shade’. “I think,” came the mumbled reply, “that my name is Shade. I can’t remember much, but I think that’s what I am.”         The mare with the clipboard nodded, scribbling furiously. Her eyebrow raised a little at the ‘what I am’ comment, but she didn’t question it, on account of the head trauma. After a moment of silence broken only by the scratch of quill on parchment, the mare spoke up. “Okay, Shade. It appears that you are experiencing something known as ‘retrograde amnesia’, which means that you can’t remember certain things from before your head trauma. While your case appears to be more pronounced than usual, it’s still likely that your memory will return as the swelling goes down and the pressure in your skull is relieved. Do you have any family or friends in town that you can stay with for a while?”         Shade shook his head. He couldn’t remember any of his family, but he had a distinct impression that they were quite far away. The blue mare nodded, flipping through a few sheets of paper until she apparently found what she sought. After a curt “please excuse me for a moment,” she stepped out into the hall and flagged down another nurse. After a brief exchange, she reentered the room. “Well, Shade, don’t worry about a thing. We’ve contacted someone to come down here and take care of you until you’re well enough to contact your family and arrange for them to meet you. She’ll be here shortly.” Unsure of how to respond, Shade simply nodded. He had no idea who this mysterious mare was, attributing it to the amnesia. Maybe she was a friend of his, and could shed some light on the situation, perhaps even help him remember some things about his past. Trying to remember anything before his vision proved futile; the only thing that he could even halfway remember was a recollection of immense pain, though he could not recall how or why he’d been in such pain in the first place. At some point in his musing, the blue nurse that had been standing in the doorway had vanished, presumably to check on other patients. Seizing the opportunity, Shade took a swipe at the vase once more. His hoof connected with a satisfying thud, sending the glass and flower spiraling end over end… right onto the bed opposite his. To add insult to injury, it even landed mostly upright, leaning against the pillow as if placed there intentionally. Frustration and disappointment welled within him, and Shade found himself focusing his malcontent on the source of his consternation: the vase. As he did so, the vase exploded violently, shards of glass trailing a foul purple flame streaking across the room and embedding themselves deeply into the walls. Simultaneously taken aback and satisfied, Shade marveled at what he’d done. While a bit more flashy than he’d intended, the end result was the same. His lust for destruction temporarily quenched, he sighed contentedly. His momentary bliss was interrupted by a commotion arising outside the door. A mare’s voice emerged from the din of the hallway. “-telling me that this colt really can’t remember who he is or where he’s from? Not even a little?” A different, yet familiar, voice answered her. “Unfortunately, yes. He genuinely can’t recall anything about his life before the incident. We’re not even sure that he remember’s that, to be honest. He barely remembers his name. Don’t worry, Twilight,” the blue nurse said, “He’ll likely begin to recover his memory in a day or so as the swelling goes down. Until then, he’s being placed into your care.” The voices had been growing closer, accompanied by a pair of hoofbeats on tile, until the pair were standing just outside of the door. Under her breath, Twilight muttered “It’s a stupid law, anyways.” Blue Nurse shot Twilight a glare that could curdle milk, drawing a meek “sorry” from the lavender mare. Blue Nurse held her glare for a moment more before nodding. “I thought so. Twilight, meet your charge: Shade; Shade,” she intoned, nodding at the dark pony, “meet Twilight. You’ll be staying with her for a while as you recover.” They  greeted each other with a shy smile and a slight nod, equally unsure of how to deal with this latest development. Blue Nurse looked back and forth, from one to another, before shaking her head and walking away. Just before she walked through the doorway, she called over her shoulder, “Shade, you’re released. You can leave with Twilight whenever you are ready.” That was all he needed to hear. As Shade moved to get onto his hooves, a wave of white swept across his vision, nearly causing him to pass out. Steadying himself until the sensation passed, Shade found a slight purple aura around himself, supporting him. Looking towards Twilight, he saw that her horn was sheathed alike in purple. Shade muttered a thanks, as he attempted to get on his hooves once more, though a bit more slowly this time. This second attempt, his vision only went grey, and he was able to maintain his balance unaided. Looking towards his new caretaker, Shade gave a curt nod, and they set out into the hallway. Ugly green linoleum met equally ugly yellow walls, painted in stark contrast by the sterile light of fluorescent tubes. The smell of astringent was stronger in the hallway, a sharp scent that cut through the rest. There was a distant sound of bustle, but for the moment the hallways was devoid of anypony but them. Twilight cast a furtive towards Shade, clearing her throat after a moment. “Uh, *ahem* Shade? Erm, so where are you from?” Looking back at her, Shade considered his answer for a moment before replying. “Honestly? I have no idea. I can barely remember my name, if it even is my name.” The lavender mare hung her head, mumbling under her breath, “Of course you don’t.” They walked in silence for a while, Twilight navigating the corridors on autopilot as Shade tagged along obediently. It wasn’t until they emerged into the midday sun that they spoke again; this time, it was Shade that broke the silence. “So, Twilight? Where are we?” An exasperated sigh preceeded a response, drawing a bit of ire from Shade, though he said nothing. “We’re in Ponyville, Shade. It’s a small town in a land called Equestria. More specifically, we’re in the downtown portion, where most of the town’s shops are located.” “Oh,” came Shade’s reply. After a moment, another question made its way into his thoughts. “Twilight? Where do you live?” Again, she sighed. This time, however, Shade wasn’t so inclined to hold his tongue, interrupting her impending reply. “Oh, I’m sorry for bothering you with my total amnesia. How inconvenient it must be for you to have to answer the stupid questions I have about where I am and where I’m going to be living until I can be dumped onto someone else.” Shade’s reply was a tad angrier than he’d meant it to be, but this was a pretty stressful event for him. Not knowing even the first thing about who you are or you place in the world can do that to ponies. Twilight sighed again, but with defeat this time. “You’re completely right, I’m sorry. I’ve got no right to be upset, and I sincerely apologize. Whatever complaints I have pale against what you’re dealing with. I’ll be more considerate from now on, okay?” Shade nodded, thankful. “I’d really appreciate that. Can we start again?”         Twilight nodded, smiling for the first time since he’d met her. “Yeah, I’d like that. My name is Twilight Sparkle, and I’m the town librarian. The town we’re in right now is known as Ponyville, in the nation of Equestria. I live in the library with my baby dragon named Spike. I’ve gone ahead and prepared a room for you, in case you had to stay with me for a while.”         At this point Shade interrupted. “Wait, how did you know I’d be staying with you?”         Twilight chuckled a bit, an oddly comforting sound. “To be completely honest, I was hoping I wouldn’t have to. In town we’ve got a law that states anypony who is injured and has no family or friends available to take care of them, becomes the ward of the pony that brought them to the clinic. I was hoping you’d either be fully recovered or have family in town. But, it’s alright. We’ll make the best of it until we can get your memory back and get you back to the life you’ve left behind.”         The last sentence resonated with Shade, evoking sadness, worry, and confusion. What sort of life had he lived? Was his family looking for him? Did they miss him? Did anypony? Twilight saw him looking suddenly downtrodden, and immediately began apologizing.         “Aww, I’m sorry. I know this is difficult, and I didn’t mean to make you sad. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to get rid of you, either, because that’s not true. I just want you to recover as quickly as possible so you can get your life back.”         Shade nodded, trying to squash the helpless feeling in his chest. “I know, thank you for all you’re doing for me. It’s just a lot to take in at once… Do you think they miss me?”         Twilight blinked in surprise for a moment before her eyes softened and creased with a smile. “I’m sure they do, Shade. We just have to find out who ‘they’ are. And then… well, who knows. Let’s take it day by day for now.”         Shade nodded, feeling a bit of confidence well in his chest. Things might be bad right now, but at least he had a new friend to help him find his way. Suddenly, Twilight came to a stop in front of a massive tree. Turning to face Shade she smiled broadly, gesturing with an outstretched hoof. “Welcome home!”          > Of scrambles and Golems > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Surely, you're joking,” Shade deadpanned. An inquisitive glance was his only reply. Of course you're not, he thought to himself. Shade allowed himself a moment to take in what was to become his home for the near future, marveling at the irony of it. A tree, perhaps twenty meters tall, sporting thick branches and what appeared to be windows at irregular intervals, loomed before him. It seemed almost cruel that the tree was apparently a library, filled with the byproducts of its harvested and rendered kin. In the upper branches there appeared to be a platform of sorts, though its purpose could not be divined from below. As Shade regarded the structure with dubious curiosity, his thoughts were derailed when a dark suggestion spoke from the back of his mind. When it spoke, it wasn’t speaking to Shade’s conscious mind in words but in impressions, thoughts, and urges, spoken directly to the primal part of him. It came as sweetly and gently as the whisper of a lover, though carrying a malice both utterly beyond fathom and eerily familiar. It spoke but two words, nearly compelling Shade to action before he’d realized what he was doing.         Burn it, the feeling intoned, over and over in his mind. The voice called forth visions in the deepest parts of his mind, images of lands burning with a foul green flame that consumed all that it touched.         “Are you alright, Shade? Is something wrong?”         Twilight's voice severed the voice’s tenuous hold over him, drawing him fully back to the present moment. “I - I’m fine,” he said, shaking off the daze he’d fallen into momentarily. “Thank you.”         The lavender mare seemed less than convinced of this, and appeared to be reconsidering the wisdom of allowing this strange pony into her home. She regarded him warily for a moment, trying to decide if he was safe to be around or not.  Apparently pushing aside her reservations, she motioned for the dark unicorn to follow her as she rounded the tree. After all, if things got dicey, she was more than powerful enough to take care of herself.         As Shade walked, he couldn’t help but feel troubled, though the reason for it eluded him. It was as if he was trying to remember something of grave importance, only to have it flutter maddeningly away. Any time he tried to focus on it, the idea vanished as smoke in the wind. If not for their arrival at the front of the tree, he might have driven himself to madness trying to grasp the ethereal notion. A simple door greeted them on the other side, yet another example of decorating a tree with the body parts of its fallen kin. Shade’s musings were interrupted by the jingle of a small bell as the door was pushed open. Twilight made her way inside, and he deemed to follow. A rather plain interior greeted him. Rows of shelving adorned the walls of the first floor, carved into the flesh of the tree in regular intervals and filled with books of all sorts. The floor of the abode was made of polished wood, which by all appearances seemed to be nothing more than the hollowed-out base of the tree, buffed to a satin finish. To the left there were stairs leading up to a second level, and to the right there was a door to an adjacent room. It was to this room that Twilight ventured first, pushing the door open with a gentle pulse of lavender magic.         Shade followed suit, brushing past the open door as he trailed Twilight into what he now saw was a kitchen and dining area. An icebox stood immediately to the left of the door, low counters hewn out of the living tree circled the room, and a small table with a quartet of chairs to the right completed the minimal furnishings of the room. Natural light spilled in through the bay window above the sink, providing a warm glow to the space that made it seem quite cozy. Beneath the window was a small sink, in which Twilight filled a glass jug she’d produced from one of the cabinets. Shade simply watched as the well-rehearsed routine unfolded. Twilight took the decanter of water and set it on the counter atop a small circular base, situated beneath an inverted glass funnel. The apparatus sported a series of concentric glass tubes stemming from the smaller end. The end of the tube opposite the funnel opened facing down, directly above a second funnel, though this one was packed with a dark substance. Beneath this funnel there stood another decanter, though this one was significantly squatter and sported a slender handle on one side.         Before Shade could venture a guess as to the nature of this contraption, Twilight lit a small flame beneath the first decanter and made her way to the table, sitting heavily and pulling out a chair for him to join her. He complied, sitting across from her as requested. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, she spoke up.         “So, Shade, tell me everything you remember about who you are or where you’re from.”         ‘This is going to be a short conversation’, Shade mused to himself. “Well,” he said, “there’s really not much to tell. I can’t remember anything before this morning. I’m not even sure that Shade is my real name. I’m sorry I’m not more help,” he said as he shrugged.         Twilight nodded knowingly. On the counter, the mysterious glass contraption began to bubble and gurgle. “I thought as much, but I was hoping you’d be able to remember something by now. It’s not a problem, though. You’re welcome to stay here until you get your memory back.”         Shade found himself smiling at the hospitality. “I appreciate that. Do you have any idea what to do now? Aside from just standing around, waiting and hoping that my memory comes back, that is. No offense, but I’d like to be out of here as soon as possible; also, I hate not knowing anything about myself.”         Twilight nodded knowingly. “I can only imagine. I actually do have a few ideas of how we might be able to help,  while also serving a practical purpose. First, we’re going to familiarize you with the town; If something jogs your memory while we’re out, then we’ll have a starting point for your recovery, an indication of what your past contains. And if not, well, I’ve got a few books of sheet music for Lyra anyways. Fresh from the Canterlot archives! I’m not sure what she wants with three-hundred-odd year old sheet music, but she’s got great taste, at least. Bucktohven, Steedivarious, Maretzart…”         Shade drifted out of the conversation, the details of the various composers and their Magnum Opus’ (according to Twilight, at least) all blending together. Supplying an obligatory ‘uh-huh’ or head nod as appropriate, they made their way back to the library proper. At this point, Twilight seemed to realize that her guest was completely out of touch with the conversation. The fact that she’d asked him what he wanted for lunch and he responded ‘uh-huh’ indicated as much.         Waving a hoof in front of his face, she snapped him out of his daze. “Hey, Shade! Yoo-hoo, are you in there?”         He blinked, looking at her for a moment as if he had forgotten who she was. Twilight was struck by a brief moment of panic before recognition flashed in Shade’s eyes. “Oh, sorry about that Twilight. I, uh, got a bit lost for a minute there. What were you saying?”         The lavender mare rolled her eyes, though she was used to such. After all, there weren’t many ponies that could keep up with her passion for learning and knowledge. Sometimes, late at night, she fantasized about a world where other ponies had the same passion and drive that she did; these fantasies invariably devolved into nightmarish dystopias ruled by ultra-focused and determined leaders competing for the largest share of books. At this point, she would sigh, reminding herself it was definitely for the better that not everypony was able to devote themselves to something as intently or for as long as she could. Smiling gently, she reiterated herself. “Shade, what would you like to eat for lunch?”         The charred flash of a thousand corpses, the still beating hearts of my vanquished foes, and the marrow of all those foolish enough to oppose me. The voice whispered to his subconscious, like an itch that was impossible to scratch in a place that he didn’t know he could feel. A vague memory of all of these images caressed his mind; he tasted the burnt charcoal on the back of his tongue but couldn’t consciously discern why. Swallowing hard to rid himself of the unusual taste, he replied “Whatever you suggest. You know this place better than I do.”         She nodded in agreement, turning towards the door and calling out over her shoulder, “You’ve got a point. I know just the place!”         And with that, they set off in the direction of town, and a certain diner that Twilight had been meaning to return to for far too long. -=-=-=-=-         Warm rays of sunlight fell down gently from atop a sapphire blue sky, while a pleasant breeze did its part to ensure the day was neither too hot nor cold. The library tree seemed to sing a song of many leaves, dancing to the rhythm of the breeze as it waltzed through the branches. Far above the ground, a trio of pegasi drifted lazily across the sky, from one thermal to another as the warm air carried them higher and higher. In the middle distance, there was a sound of hooves on cobblestones and of voices, of laughter; the sounds of ponies living their lives seemingly without a care in the world.         They have forgotten their fear, a voice whispered in the corners of Shade’s mind. It’s nearly time to remind them, it said. Fear and trepidation crept into the shadows of the day, hiding in the unseen crevices of what would be an otherwise lovely summer’s day, tainting it subtly. Shade found himself looking to the sky, haunted by a vague sense of unease that he couldn’t quite place or attribute to anything in particular. He did his best to shake it as he tried to lose himself in the details of his surroundings, hoping that something he saw would call to him and offer clues about his past.         The buildings were constructed of rough hewn timbers, the bite of the axes that had shaped them still visible in many places. The walls appeared to be coated in plaster, concealing the underlying structure from casual observation. In some places, the plaster was cracked and chipped, revealing the stonework beneath. Windows were set in thick mortar, clearly patched many times throughout the years as winter took its toll. The roofs were a mixture of thatching and tile in most places, with the odd wooden and stone one here or there. The cobblestones were likewise roughly hewn,  though from a grey and white granite rather than from wood. They were rather uneven in most places, having been displaced and jarred by years of traffic and repeated freezes. ‘One could roll an ankle if not careful,’ Shade thought to himself.         As the duo drew nearer to the town square, the building slowly became more uniform, taller, and more advanced. Timber gave way to brick, thatched roofs to slate tiled ones, and rough hewn cobbles to tightly fitted paving stones. As the buildings changed, so too did the quantity and quality of pedestrian traffic. The odd passerby in the outskirts had given way to groups of two or three, which in turn gave way to throngs of in excess of five in some places; it seemed that everypony had somewhere to be, and they were all in a hurry to get there, jostling and pushing in some places to get by.         Seeing all of these ponies in one place made Shade feel… anxious? No, that wasn’t the right term. Some combination of eager, angry, and hungry. On second thought, that last one might just have been because he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten.         As if on cue, the gentle summer breeze was suddenly laden with the most delectable smell that had ever graced Shade’s nostrils. It was like a shovel to the face, but instead of pain there was only the maddening anticipation of food, of sated hunger. Just as he was turning to suggest they follow their nose to the source of the lovely scent, Twilight turned into a small diner, adorned in chrome and glass panels. The anachronism when held against the rest of the town was striking, but the thought of anything other than food could wait. Fate it seems was on his side, for the smell that he’d been so enticed by was emanating from the very diner Shade now found himself in.         They took a seat near the window, and Shade had to use all of his willpower not to grab the next tray of food the waitress carried past them. She returned a moment later, sans food, and stopped at their table to deliver menus and take drink orders. Twilight waved off the menus, stating “We already know what we’re having, thank you.” She proceeded to order two each of coffee and something called a ‘Daffodil Scramble,’ whatever that was, all the while ignoring Shade’s questioning look. Once the waitress left, she finally acknowledged him.         “What?” She questioned. “You said ‘whatever you suggest,’ so I suggested this. Trust me, you’ll thank me when you’re done eating.”         Shade held up his hooves in a defensive gesture. “Whoa there, I didn’t  mean it like that, I was just wondering what a daffodil scramble was.”         At this, Twilight’s eyes positively gleamed as a smile spread across her features and she pointed a hoof at shade in a playful manner. “Just you wait. I don’t want to spoil it, but it’s what this place is famous for.         This managed to rouse both Shade’s curiosity, as well as his hunger. Moments later, the waitress returned with a pot of coffee and a pair of mugs, which she set down on the table and walked away. Twilight was “mother”, pouring the coffee for both of them.  Doing this apparently jogged her memory a bit, as she quietly exclaimed “Oh, horseapples. I forgot about the coffee on the counter.”         ‘So that’s what that was,’ Shade thought. Furthermore, though he knew what coffee was, he couldn’t remember if he like it or not.  There was only one way to find out, he decided, and took a cautious sip of the piping hot beverage. A few things became clear at this point; first, that he really enjoyed the taste of coffee; second, that this coffee was extremely hot; and third, that caffeine was his new best friend. As soon as it hit his bloodstream, it was as if the world slowed down a little bit, slowly coming into focus bit by bit. He could see every miniscule detail, hear every ‘tink’ of silverware on a plate, and smell the food cooking in the kitchen. There was a gentle thrumming that he became aware of, seemingly originating from his horn and reverberating both within himself and within everything around him.         It would seem that caffeine seemed to have stirred the magic within him, something he hadn’t even realized he’d been missing until it came surging back. The magic overlaid his other senses like a second sight, as if he had only been hearing the world and had suddenly opened his eyes. This power… it was intoxicating. He’d never felt anything like it before, never felt such raw potency, never felt such--         “Shade! What are you doing?” Twilight’s voice snapped out at him, derailing his train of thought. Something was… off. Looking around and finding dozens of eyes focused on him, Shade slowly realized the entire diner had quite suddenly gone silent.         “Uh… hi?” He offered, abashed. ‘Why are they all staring at me?’ He wondered. “Twilight? What’s going on?”         She looked at him incredulously. “Why don’t you tell me? I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but anypony would get nervous when somepony channels that kind of power near them.”         A small part of him enjoyed the terror in their eyes, but the rest of him was thoroughly embarrassed to be the center of attention like this. Thinking quickly, he attempted to suppress the thrumming within him, to moderate effect. Struck by a brilliant idea, he sneezed with great fanfare. As he did so, he redoubled his efforts to suppress the power within, and by twisting it against itself and turning it inward, he succeeded in driving it down almost completely.         Seeing this, most ponies chuckled to themselves and turned back to their food, one even turning to his friend and saying “-had the same thing happen to me last week.” To which his friend replied, “Frank, you’re an earth pony.”         Things quickly returned to normal after that, with the exception of Twilight. She was looking at him through squinted eyes, as if trying to discern more about his true nature. After a moment, she seemed to give up. “Shade, that was a nice move with the sneeze, but I don’t buy it. There’s more to you than you realize, and I think we need to address this as soon as possible. There’s something…off about your magic. I can’t quite put my hoof on it. When we’re done eating, do you want to go for a bit of a walk with me?”         Shade shrugged, nodding. “I guess so. I would like to know more about myself as well, so if you think this will help, I’m all for it.”         Any further conversation was cut off by the arrival of the most delectable smelling food Shade had ever had the pleasure of being in the vicinity of. Hash browns, chopped and fried daffodils, scrambled eggs, and wheat pancakes all greeted him. With the gusto of a starving creature, Shade set to work.         Not long after this, they’d both finished their meals, and were each patting their stuffed bellies contentedly. At Twilight’s behest, they set off towards a clearing beyond the edge of town, following a different path than they had on the way from the library. Less than two blocks from the diner, Twilight entered a small music store nestled between a hardware store and a place that only seemed to sell couches and writing utensils. As she walked in, a small stack of books sheathed in a purple glow floated out of her bag in the direction of the counter.         As if on cue, a turquoise unicorn with a golden lyre on her flank trotted out from the back room, her face erupting in a smile as soon as she spotted Twilight and the stack of books. “Twilight! So good to see you. Is that the sheet music I asked for?”         Twilight beamed in kind. “You know it, Lyra. Getting back to the classics?”         Lyra shook her head. “Not quite. I’ve got a new piece I’m working on, and I want to incorporate some of my favorite elements from these composers…”         For the next few minutes the mares were lost in conversation about musical theory, while Shade wandered around the rest of the store. Investigating the various musical instruments and accessories, he was amused by his distorted reflections in the curved brass and polished nickel. The conversation ended about the same time Shade had completed his circuit of the store, with Lyra promising to play her new piece for Twilight, and Twilight vowing to hold her to that. With a friendly wave, the duo was off into the light of the sun, leaving Lyra to work on her newest creation.                  The rest of their trip was uneventful, as they weaved their way through the streets into the wider open areas that surrounded the town. Perhaps a half hour after they started walking, the duo came to a clearing in a valley, with a small hill standing between them and the town. “Here,” Twilight assured Shade, “Nopony will bother us.”         Shade was inclined to agree, as they’d seen nopony for the last ten minutes. Before he had the opportunity to ask any questions, Twilight launched into her explanation. “Okay, so I want to know more about your capabilities. You caught me off guard in the diner, and I don’t want that to happen again. So, first things first: stop suppressing your aura.”         Shade looked at her, reluctance written across his features, but complied nonetheless. Slowly, he stopped suppressing the aura that welled within him, relishing the feeling of the power coursing through his veins, stronger than before. It felt as if he was standing in a slight breeze, rustling his mane though the grass was unmoved. Twilight’s shock was palpable.         “There… there is no way this is real. You cannot be this powerful, it must be a trick.”         Shade’s mane flowed in the current of magic pouring out of him, carried by the force of an otherworldly breeze. When he spoke, his voice reverberated with a power that sent chills down her spine. “It’s not a trick, Twilight. I’m not doing anything.”         If that was true -- and Twilight felt that it was -- Then it would mean that this unknown pony who couldn’t remember his past was nearly as powerful as the Princesses themselves. The mere thought of such a thing seemed wholly implausible at best, and mind-numbingly horrifying at worst. Should anything go awry with this strange pony, it would take a direct intervention from the Princesses, and perhaps even all of them, to stop it.         Still, if something seems implausible, there’s most likely a good reason for it; namely, that such a thing is not in fact possible, but rather is a product of other, explainable, circumstances. Twilight resolved to find out the truth.         “Okay, Shade. If you don’t mind, I’d like to have you do a few tasks, please.”         Shade merely nodded in agreement; the reverberation of his voice was less than pleasant for him. Twilight nodded in kind, summoning a swarm of a half-dozen stone golems from the hills surrounding them. Such a task was a technique that she’d learned from Celestia Herself, and it drained her power significantly. There were not many ponies, alive or dead, who could call forth such creatures. To summon them, Twilight focused her magic on the rocks, shearing fragments of her soul and binding them to the stone. It was an arduous spell, one which carried a terrible price; for, if the shards of soul were damaged, they were lost forever. The chances for this were miniscule; a soul is a resilient thing,  Over the deep rumbling of rocks sliding against each other as the golems formed, Twilight shouted her instructions to Shade. “Okay, Shade. All you have to do is defeat the Golems. If you find yourself in trouble, the safety word is--”         Before she could finish her sentence, the Golems were engulfed in an unnatural purple flame. Their screams… Dear Celestia, their screams… the sound would haunt her dreams for the rest of her days. One by one the screams stopped, until nothing but smoke and molten slag remained. She was speechless. Any one of those Golems would have easily taken a squad of Canterlot Guards down...to take down a half-dozen at once, without even an apparent effort… Nearly unbelievable. No, it couldn’t be so. Perhaps he used all of his energy in that attack, but was just really good at hiding the exertion. Such a thing was unlikely, but not nearly as unlikely as this pony possessing almost Princess-level strength. Twilight shook her head, resolving once more to putting this pony to the test. This time, she wouldn’t hold back.         “Okay, one last test Shade. Remember, just call out ‘Banana’ and I’ll stop it, okay? Don’t worry, I won’t let them hurt you.”         With that, Twilight pulled out all the stops, sapping the last of her power as she carefully crafted a series of spells that would give even the Princesses pause. Twice as many Golems were called forth, a pack of timberwolves were summoned, and a magical dampening field was employed. The most advanced magic she had gained in her studies was brought to bear. The dampening field alone was something she’d been researching and perfecting for the better part of a decade, achieving nearly an eighty-percent reduction in magical potency within its field. By casting it last, she ensured that her summoned creatures would be raised at full strength, rather than at the reduced efficiency within the sphere of influence. She smiled to herself, feeling a bit cocky. By her calculations, this spell would be enough to take even the Princesses down to a near-dragon equivalent, instead of their God-like selves. Still a mighty force to be reckoned with, but not impossible to handle. Next time a Discord or a Sombra was on the loose, she would be ready.         Shade felt the barrier wrap around him, squeezing his aura until it was but a sliver of what it once was. He felt as if his very essence had been put into a vice, and he did not like that at all. He focused once more on the Golems closing in around him, willing them to combust as they had before. He felt his aura surge in response, as the power flowed through him, only to have it rebound against the barrier and strike him instead. He stumbled under the blow as the golems closed in. They were slower than he was, but they had numbers on their side. Instead of willing the fire to strike at all of them, Shade decided to focus on one at a time, to limit the rebound effect. He focused the fire into a tightly packed beam, the purple flames penetrating the barrier to strike a single Golem. With a shriek it was immolated, consumed with unnatural swiftness by the strange purple flames. In a moment, it was reduced to slag. Shade shifted his focus to the next one, the rope of flames swinging to its newest target. Shade simply couldn’t keep up this way. He backed away from the encroaching Golem Horde, only to find himself surrounded. There were too many of them, they were too strong. He needed a new strategy, and quick. Somewhere deep in his subconscious, ancient knowledge began to unfurl. Spells that had not seen the light of day in aeons began to manifest, black magic that had long been forgotten making a resurgence once more. Shade felt a cold ball of hatred and rage forming in his gut, sending dark tendrils seeping into the ground all around him, searching for he knew not what. A dozen tentacles found what they sought, forming unseen fists far below the surface. These fists and the evil they contained suddenly shot to the surface, disgorging their hateful contents. From her spot atop the hill, Twilight shivered in the warm summer sun. There was the stench of dark magic roiling in the meadow, a malodorous stench that spoke of death and despair. She’d never felt magic like this before, and it chilled her to her bones. The ground around Shade suddenly erupted, and the source of the stench became clear. Reanimated skeletal remains clawed their way out of the soil, carrying with them a heinous odor. Foetid flesh hung to bones in some places, while yet others had been stripped clean. The abominations’ eyes glowed with a sick red flame, casting a ghostly afterimage as they shambled from their graves. ‘This… This is necromancy,’ she thought. She had only ever read about it in the oldest books in the forbidden archive, and even then it was barely hinted at. There was one book, though… one book which contained more than vague allusions to such forbidden magic. Bound in equine flesh and penned in blood, it was the most disturbing book in the entire archive, sealed by Celestia herself within the catacombs deep inside the mountain. Months of begging and pleading by Twilight had eventually succeeded in gaining her access to the tome, though only for a short time and only under the close supervision of Celestia. The book was said to be the fevered ramblings of a madman, one who had stared into the darkness for so long that it had consumed his mind. Within its pages there were things best left unspoken; hexes and curses so vile their very concept was abhorrent to everything Twilight stood for. By far, the most horrendous thing in the book was the act of tearing a soul from beyond the veil of death and binding it to the cadaver of a deceased being. Necromancy, as it was called, prevented the soul from finding its eternal peace and forced the abomination to walk the earth, forever sowing destruction and disease in its wake until it was destroyed. The method by which this was done had thankfully been lost ages prior to the penning of the accursed tome. It was said, however, that only the most powerful of mages could perform necromancy at all, and that it required a living sacrifice. There were legends passed down from the times before of the Elder Gods, who could tear open the veil of death and summon forth undead hordes, but they were just that -- legends. Until now, it would seem. In the meadow before her, the most horrific scene imaginable was playing out. Dark magic that was never meant to exist was manifested before her very eyes, the vile perversion of the natural order of things taking place in the light of day. So shocked was she, she could do nothing but stand and watch the scene unfold. Reanimated animal corpses endowed with unnatural strength proved a match for stone Golems three times their size, clashing furiously against one another. Manticores, wolves, and other shambling abominations fought tooth and nail against living stone. From the woodline, there arose the howl of a pack of timber wolves, eager to join the fight. Despite their numbers, the wolves were dispatched easily by the unnatural purple flames. Shade spewed a thick rope of flames from his mouth in a manner very similar to a dragon, playing it across the wolves until their pitiful shrieks and whimpers of pain ceased entirely. As the last Golem and Infernus succumbed to each other's blows, Shade stood alone in the middle of the killing field. He turned to Twilight and smiled, pleased with himself, thin tongues of purple flames still licking out from between his teeth. Shade’s smile faltered as he saw Twilight’s expression. Utter revulsion, fear, and curiosity played across her features, each battling for dominance. Why should she be revolted? He only did what she asked him to do. Besides, that was pretty amazing, the whole pulling-bones-from-the-earth-and-spawning-minions thing. About this time, Shade remembered her reaction to his unbridled power. Quickly, he tamped it down once more, turning it inwards against itself rather than outwards. As he did so, He saw Twilight visibly relax. As the power emanating from Shade died down to what might be considered ‘normal’ levels, Twilight found that the pressure she’d felt in her horn dissipated with it. She hadn’t realized how restricted her breathing had become until the pressure had vanished, as different as night from day. It had been a long time since she’d been this frightened by anything; not even Nightmare Moon had evoked such terror. The last time she’d faced such nameless fear was as a filly, lost and alone in the dark of night near the edge of the forest. All throughout the night she’d been tormented by the sounds emanating from within, unknown sources leaving room for her imagination to run wild. It was partly this fear of the unknown that drove her to learn all she could about everything there is. And now, she was facing the fear of the unknown once more, in the form of an amnesiac pony, with unfathomable powers, and knowledge of dark magic that should not exist, that stood at odds with everything that was natural and right. At the same time, she was nearly giddy with the prospect of learning more about the arcane arts that he alone could teach. In the end, it was her curiosity that won out, as it nearly always did. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Twilight called out to him. “Shade, could you come here, please? I need to ask you a few questions.” He was happy to oblige, pleased that she no longer had the terrified look on her face. Trotting over, he greeted Twilight with a smile, this time sans flames. “How’d I do?” “Uh… well, I guess.” She seemed uncertain of her words, as if she was picking her way around a sensitive subject. “Shade, would you mind describing exactly what you did?” “I just did what you told me to do… I defeated the Golems.” Twilight tried to fight her exasperation. “Yes, you did. Quite well, in fact. What I want to know is how you did it. What exactly did you do to defeat them, specifically the second time?” Shade tapped his chin as he contemplated his answer. Twilight wanted to shout at him, ‘it has been less than two minutes you dolt, what is there to think about?!’ After a moment, he answered. “Well, at first I tried to reuse the ‘set-everything-on-fire’ technique from the first time, but it felt like I was being squeezed through the eye of a needle. The harder I tried, the more it pushed back. So, I figured, if there's only the eye of a needle to pass through, I’ll focus the flame to fit through the eye. This worked pretty well, but it meant that I could only engage one Golem at a time. This wasn’t fast enough, and I was about to be surrounded by the Golems. I’m not sure, but I think I reached into the ground and pulled up the bones, maybe? Anyways, after that--” Twilight interrupted Shade, burning to know more. “Wait, what? You aren’t sure? How can you do something like that without knowing what you’re doing? How did you find the bones? How did you reanimate them? How did you make them fight for you?” Shade, to Twilight’s eternal consternation, merely shrugged. She wanted to slap him so badly, but she refrained. She had other ways to get that information, but for the time being, there were more important things to attend to. After all, there were observations and hypothesis’ to write. Princess Celestia had retired for the evening, taking her customary place beside the grand fireplace in her chambers. As she had done for so many years, she carefully perused the various bills and legislatures that had come to her for revision or signature. ‘Isn’t this the reason the legislative branch was created?’ She mused to herself. It was, in fact, the reason the branch had been created in the first place; but, it should stand to reason that one thing bureaucracy loves is even more of the same. And so it had come to pass that the minor issues that had once consumed much of her time had now been replaced by other minor issues, although with a few extra layers of bureaucracy thrown in for good measure. She had just settled into her large, plush chaise lounge for the evening, a warm cup of chamomile tea on a nearby table. She levitated over the first item of the evening, a request to establish a sub-comittee to review the possible need for a revision of the number of chairs in the tax office during the month of April. Why such a thing ever needed to exist was beyond her. Reading through the proposal inexplicably confused her more, with everything swaddled in layer upon layer of legal terms and bureaucracy. She sighed heavily; it was going to be a long night. A green flame from the fireplace caught her attention. A letter from Twilight was exactly the distraction she needed to brighten her spirits. With a motherly smile, she opened the letter to see what her student had been up to in the intervening time since they last spoke. As she read, her smile slowly spread. It would seem that Twilight had made a friend of sorts, as she seemed to gush about this “very interesting” stallion for the greater portion of the letter. She appeared very eager to “get to know him better”, which drew a smile and a motherly sigh from Celestia. Her latest protege was growing up… With a slight smirk, she set about penning a response.