> The Problem of Evil
>  by Quixotic Mage
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Prologue: Lullaby and Discussion
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fate has been cruel and order unkind 
How can I have sent you away?

The sweet slow strains of the thousand year old lullaby drifted from a gramophone and caressed the Princess of the Night.  She lay sprawled across deep purple sheets in a room sumptuously decorated in the rich colors of midnight.  Her eye were closed and only a faint wrinkle of her brow indicated that she was still awake.  Behind her the golden door to her chambers, engraved with the moon and stars, creaked open and the soft clip-clop of hoofsteps could be heard.

“Good evening, sister.”  Luna spoke without opening her eyes.  Who else would dare disturb her in her private chambers?  “What brings you here?”

Upon hearing the song Celestia hesitated in the doorway.  “Do you… Do you like the song?” she asked hesitantly.

At the uncharacteristic trace of vulnerability in Celestia’s voice, Luna sat up and turned to face her sister squarely.  “Why do you want to know?”

The blame was my own; the punishment, yours 
The harmony's silent today

Before Celestia could speak understanding dawned in Luna’s eyes.  “Of course.  It was you.  No wonder it’s lasted this long.”

 “It wasn’t hard,” Celestia chuckled wryly.  “Familial problems and regret are familiar to most ponies after all.  I did not mean to intrude, music was your domain not mine.  I just-” she paused, searching for the right words.  “I needed to remember you.  To show that, no matter what had happened, you were still my little sister and I still loved you.”

But into the stillness I'll bring you a song 
And I will your company keep

Luna cocked her head, listening to the song again though she’d already heard it hundreds of times.  “You poured your love for me into a song that, for the entire duration of my imprisonment, was sung by mothers to their children as they rocked them to sleep.  Yes, I feel your care and devotion, your sorrow at what transpired.  The song was a fitting cenotaph while my body languished on the moon.  And yet…” she trailed off.

Till your tired eyes and my lullabies 
Have carried you softly to sleep 

“And yet?” Celestia prompted.  Luna held up a hoof, waiting.

Once did a pony who shone like the sun 
Look out on her kingdom and sigh

“And there it is.”  Luna’s horn glowed blue and the needle lifted off the record, silencing the song.

“There what is?”  Celestia shook her head.  “Luna, I don’t understand.”

“Her kingdom.”  There was the bitterness of a wound reopened in Luna’s voice now.  “Not their kingdom, not the kingdom of the sisters.  The kingdom of the sun and perhaps, if we are kind, the kingdom of the sun and adjunct.  Even your labor of love conceals the same dagger that drove me to the nightmare.”

Celestia opened her mouth to respond then closed it and very deliberately took a deep breath.  “Luna, I-“

“No no sister mine,” Luna interrupted.  “No carefully considered half-truths.  Full moon full truths.  Speak without restraint or leave me be!”

“Fine.”  Celestia released her breath and with it flowed the self-control of a millennium.  Her shoulders slumped and where once had stood the avatar of the eternal sun there now stood an incensed older sister.  “Why in Tartarus didn’t you talk to me?  About any of it!  The advent of the nightmare could not have been sudden.  It must have built slowly, over decades, centuries even.  I’m your big sister, I’m here to help you.  Why couldn’t you find it in your heart to trust me just once in all those centuries?”

“Trust?  Ha.”  Luna snorted in grim amusement.  “What exactly do you think caused the nightmare, dear sister?”

Celestia hesitated.  “Envy of the adoration I received from those I led?” she hazarded.

“You don’t know.”  Luna stared at her sister, disbelieving.  “After all these years you really don’t know.”

“So tell me,” Celestia pleaded.  “Full moon full truths as you said, right?  Tell me what hurt you so dearly.”

Luna grimaced at having her words thrown back in her face.  She was quiet for a moment, finding the right words, then she began.  “I am the youngest of the immortals.  There are not many of us; you, Discord, Aquila of the griffons, Tiamat of the dragons, Yggdrasil of the ents, and some few others.  But of all of us I am the youngest, eternally the youngest.  I have lived thousands of mortal lives and yet,” she shrugged helplessly, “you still expect me to come running to you when I have a problem.”

“Luna that’s not-“

“No!” Luna snapped.  “You wanted to understand so listen.  Equestria is your kingdom.  It has always been your kingdom and I have been at best tolerated and at worst exiled.  And when I return from my exile what do I find?  In my absence the moon and stars have followed their tracked paths without qualm.  Art and music have flourished and my own sister, once regarded as goddess of all things logical and ordered, has penned a song of love so moving it has lasted a thousand years.  In short, I find myself bereft of purpose.”

Luna was breathing heavily when she finished speaking.  Celestia immediately jumped in.  “Luna, I had no idea you felt that way.”  She stepped forward and opened her wings for a hug.  “But I’m so glad you told me.  Together we can solve this.”

“No.  No.”  Luna flinched back. Her wing hit the gramophone, the needle dropped and the lullaby resumed.

So great was her reign and so brilliant her glory 
That long was the shadow she cast 

“A long shadow indeed, sister!”  Luna spat.  She spun and dove out the window, plummeting toward the ground.

At the last moment her wings snapped open and up she soared.  Away fled the princess of the night, followed only by her sister’s forlorn call, “come back, Luna.  Please!”

Not for a single instant did she glance backward, nor was a tear shed from her eye.  No outward sign was given of regret or sorrow lurking in the heart of the princess.  High she flew, above the clouds.  Where scintillating diamonds sparkled below, as the cloud-stuff caught the scattered moonlight. Mirrored above by the spears of pale light cast by stars that, for all their nearness and familiarity, seemed infinitely far away.  The landscape was beautifully barren, comfortingly reminiscent of the empty moonscape Luna had so recently left.

The Princess of the Night flew swiftly and behind her a contrail of star-strewn midnight began to form.  Her teeth gritted, she gave herself over to the exertion of flying, striving to claim every bit of speed her powerful alicorn wings could muster.  An elastic cone of resistance formed before her, one that a certain rainbow-maned pegasus would have recognized.  For a moment, she feared the resistance was too much, that she would be cast backward in a dangerous and ignominious fall.

But no, whatever her inner turmoil Luna was still a princess.  And so, with a mighty shout, she snapped through the sound barrier.  Concentric rings of silver stars interspersed with rings of the iridescent aurora borealis spread from her speeding body, crashing through the heavy cloud cover which had so recently comforted her and scattering it to the four winds.  A great crack filled the air and the rumble was heard as far away as Ponyville.

Luna rode the burst of speed, reveling in the reckless hedonism of rapid flight.  Her laughter, true and unfettered rang from the heavens and echoed all the way down to the land below.  She glided on the winds, resting as the air resistance slowed her to more manageable speeds.  Great breaths of cold clean air filled her lungs, reviving and refreshing her after the stultifying air of her sister’s castle.

Ever so slowly, the calm after the storm found her and she searched the land below for a spot to land and think.  Beneath her the ground was coated with snow and in the distance she saw a clear pillar of ice rising like a fountain from a pool.  It was the work of minutes to fly there and upon reaching the spire she found the base hollow.  The entire structure was held up by four supports corresponding to the four points of a compass.

Curious, Luna stepped up to the southernmost support, peering at it closely.  Beneath the outer coating of ice there appeared to be a door of all things.  Luna’s mouth quirked upward.  I suppose adventure is preferable to maudlin introspection, she thought.  A quick warming spell melted the ice.  A quick kick and it opened.  She was inside.

Luna stood at the top of a very long spiral staircase that descended indefinitely into the earth.  Barely any light made it through the structure so the princess of the night found herself in near total darkness, a situation with which she was unsurprisingly rather comfortable.

The first two hundred steps went quickly.  The second two hundred were somewhat more onerous and by the third set of two hundred Luna was beginning to wonder if the owner of the structure had had an unhealthy fascination with staircases.  After a thousand steps Luna decided that enough was enough and, despite the danger, jumped into the open air in the center of the staircase and allowed herself to float down on her wings.

A small rotunda rested at the bottom of the staircase with three corridors leading off in different directions.  Luna hesitated, uncertain of whether or not she wanted to risk picking a passage and being unable to find her way back out.  As she thought, she noticed a green light, dim at first but slowly growing brighter, approaching from the passage on her right.  Reflections bounced through the walls as the light grew stronger, bathing the entire rotunda and Luna herself in an unearthly lurid light.

The source of the light entered the rotunda.  A small green orb floated in space, with a hint of red coloring its center.  It bobbed twice in front of Luna and then returned to the opening from which it had come and bobbed twice more.  I am to follow then, it seems, Luna thought, strange though this thing may be I will not learn its identity by standing here.  And a poor adventure this would be if all I did was float down a staircase and fly back up.  Out loud she said, “Very well, lead on will-o’-the-wisp.  But be warned, should you lead me false, you’ll know the wrath of a princess.”  The wisp bobbed once more and set off down the corridor at an easy trot, with Luna following close behind.

Eventually, the corridor expanded into a wide room with a statue in the center of a unicorn clad in mail with a heavy woven coat hanging over his back.  The wisp darted forward and sunk through the statue’s eye.  At once a deep voice rumbled out from the statue.  “A visitor.  How refreshing.  Visitors are so rare.  Why in fact, I think you’re the first I’ve ever had, Princess Luna.  A pleasure to meet you once again.  Forgive me for not bowing but I’m afraid I’m rather stiff at the moment.”

Though unable to place the voice Luna knew she had heard it before and she knew too that it belonged to an enemy.  “Who might you be?” she asked, keeping her distance.

The voice chuckled.  “Do you truly not remember?  Then approach my prison and find out.”

Cautiously, Luna stepped up to the statue and raised a werelight.  As light spread through the chamber she gazed at the face frozen in a rictus of anger.  “King Sombra!” she gasped, stumbling back from the statue.  “The prison’s weakening, I must tell my sister!”  She turned to flee.

“Hold!” His voice rang out with command and despite her will Luna found her flight arrested.  “My prison is as strong as ever it was.  You of all ponies should know the strength of your sister’s prisons.  It is a peculiar talent of hers, wouldn’t you agree, Nightmare Moon?”

“I am not Nightmare Moon,” she growled, stamping her hoof.

“Hmm, no I suppose not,” he said contemplatively.  “For that one brief instant you were her equal.  Now, though?  Now you’re back to being her inferior, least among equals of the immortals.  What was the line?  Ah yes, ‘long was the shadow she cast.’  Isn’t that so, little shadow?”

Luna flinched at the words that had so recently sent her fleeing into the night.  “That’s not… wait.”  She paused, struck by a terrible realization.  “How can you have heard that?  There was no pony else there.”

“You arrogant immortals, so certain you know all there is to know of magic and power,” he snarled.  Though he could not move Luna still sensed his power gathering, lunging against his restraints.  “I delved deeper into the forbidden secrets of magic than any other.  I gained the power to enslave a nation.  I and I alone in the history of Equestria have held the title of king by right of power!  Even here, chained by harmony’s goddess, I can still cast my will upon the world.  And I nudged at your mind, dear Luna, to bring you here tonight to make you an offer.”

“I want no part of any offer you care to make,” Luna growled.

“Oh I think you do.  You see we have within ourselves the solutions to one another’s problems.”  His words were quiet now, seductive and intimate in their intonation.  “I was first among mortals and found it lacking.  You are least among immortals and found the same.  Imagine our places exchanged.  You, with all your millennia of knowledge and experience, the greatest mortal that ever lived.  Finally, you would be given the respect and the acknowledgment you crave from your peers.  Something you could never receive from the other immortals.  Luna: the leading light of her age.  A true renaissance pony, master of all arts and sciences.”

Intellectually, Luna knew not to listen.  Only a fool would trade immortality for a mortal life, trade a lonely empty immortality for prestige, honor, and the companionship of other mortals.  Who would… who would make that trade?  Luna wondered, her head growing fuzzy.  Mortality, immortality, what did it matter anyway?

Luna strove to pull herself together.  Sombra’s words had the consistency of poisoned honey.  So blatantly a trap and yet it was so hard to tune him out.  A part of her desperately wanted the vision of belonging he painted, a chance to achieve something more than merely being the last and least of the goddess, destined by birth.  She found herself almost floating toward the statute, each step taken as if moving through liquid or as in a dream.  Almost, she agreed to his deal and passed to him her immortal magic.

And then the sun descended.

True sunlight burned away the chamber’s shadows and revealed the terrible black tentacles that emanated from the statute and had encircled the princess.  Each ended in a mouth with a forked tongue that whispered lies into her ears.  “You will never be acknowledged,” declared one.  “The Nightmare was you as you were meant to be,” hissed another.

Even as Luna perceived them they burned in the cleansing light of the sun.  It wasn’t enough.  The sheer colossal energy of the sun pounded in her veins, melding with her own rage at the attempted manipulation.  Luna screamed as she grasped the sun itself and wove its essence.  She coated the statute in an aura of gold, reinforcing the prison of King Sombra with layer upon layer of sunfire.  The despairing cries of the newly bound king were music to her ears and she continued until even his screams were cloaked by the sun’s fury.

Her anger satiated at last she realized that there was light in the chamber emanating from behind her.  Confused, she glanced back and gasped in shock.  The mane of the Princess of Night had changed.  No longer was it merely the constellations, now the moon itself glowed in a halo around her head.  The very tips of her ethereal dark blue mane had lightened and the faintest hint of a rosy sunrise tinted the tips.

The manes of the royal sisters reflected the power they wielded.  When first Celestia had to raise the moon and stars her mane had changed from the delicate pink of dawn to a pastel rainbow representing all times and all lights.  For Luna’s mane to change in this way there could be only one explanation.  Luna closed her eyes and reached inside herself for the source of her magic.  There, nestled next to the familiar power of moon and stars was the mantle of the sun, the right and the power to access and control that heavenly body. If that power now rested with her…

Luna’s eyes snapped open and she thrust her power into a teleport, desperately straining to reach Canterlot.  With an audible twang, the wards on King Sombra’s prison prevented her teleport and sent her crashing to the floor.  She shook it off and dashed towards the stairwell.  Please be well, my sister, she begged of any that might have the power to help.  I can’t lose you.  Not again!

Reaching the rotunda she bent her legs and jumped, cracking the stones beneath her and sending her rocketing to the top of the shaft.  She tore through the door, already casting another teleportation spell.  This time it worked, partially.  The familiar sensation of being squeezed in four directions at once took hold.  Miles were crossed in the space between heart beats until Luna smashed into the teleportation wards around Canterlot.  Once more she shook it off and spread her wings, flying desperately towards her sister’s chambers.

Bursting through the balcony windows Luna shouted, “Sister!  Where are you?  Please, please be here.”  Silence was the only answer as Luna’s voice trailed off and traces of tears began to form in her eyes.  “Oh Tia, what has happened to you?” she wept.

Before Luna could truly give in to despair a glimmer of her sister’s magic caught her eye.  Her heart leapt into her chest.  “Sister?” she asked, daring to hope that there have been some mistake.  The glimmer led her to a scroll tied with a red ribbon and sealed with the royal seal resting on Celestia’s desk.  Luna broke the seal and unfurled the scroll to read its contents.

Dear Princess Luna,

It’s true that I did not know exactly the cause of the Nightmare.  But I am, after all, a goddess of logic and I had a lot of time to think on it.  I came up with 37 different possible causes of the Nightmare and for each I devised an appropriate reaction.

Goodness! It sounds so clinical when I put it that way.  What I mean to say is that I love you, Luna.  And I spent a long time trying to think of ways to put things right between us.  After our… conversation earlier I put one of those plans into action.  As you have probably already noticed, I have bequeathed to you the mantle of the sun.  Additionally, I have renounced my own immortal nature and used that power to cast a spell, erasing all memory of Princess Celestia from everypony except you and me.  As far as the rest of Equestria remembers there has only ever been Princess Luna and there was no Nightmare.

I do this for you Luna because you were right.  As the youngest of the immortals and as my younger sister you were never given the space the rest of us had.  Because of that I think we never, no, I never came to treat you as an equal.  That changes now.  I am trusting you with the work of my life, Equestria itself.  I leave you no guide to my plans nor outline to follow.  You will make your own choices and they will be different from and even opposed to mine.  That is to be expected.  There is no limit to your rule.  If you wished it you could bring about eternal night and I would not stop you, this I swear. 

But I know you Luna, and I know you will rule with wisdom and grace.  

We were meant to rule together, little sister.  I have had my turn at the wheel.  Now let’s see what you can do.

Love
Tia
> Chapter 1: Of Magic and Memories
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Growing up, Twilight Sparkle had been paranoid.  She would not have called herself paranoid, she would have said that she took precisely the appropriate measure of caution.  She would point to the statistic that 76.8% of talented unicorns cast dangerous spells in their sleep while undergoing training.

Twilight would also bring up the time when she had dreamed she was cold and accidentally set her room on fire.  Tearfully she would ask what would have become of Spike had it not been for the fact that, as a baby dragon, he was completely immune to both the magic of a foal, talented or not, and the fire itself.  Finally she would point out to Celestia, who was the only pony that would sit through the entire two hour presentation on proper caution, complete with slides and graphs, that when data and anecdote agreed surely the truth was on that side.  At which point Celestia would gravely agree that that seemed to be the case and try desperately not to laugh at how adorable Twilight was in her little tweed lecturing suit.

Once she had secured Celestia’s approval Twilight promptly put together a list of 13 wards against kinetic, thermal, electrical, nuclear, magnetic and magical energies, as well as assorted other potential methods of dealing damage.  Every night after she brushed her teeth Twilight would cast protection spells against each and every type of damage, often knocking herself out from magical exhaustion.  After a week of this Celestia took pity on her and taught her how to cast more permanent protection spells in the form of wards, so they didn’t have to be recast every night and could be checked to see that they were still working properly.  After the week it took to get set up, Twilight had the full set of wards automatically protecting her bedroom at all times.

After moving to Ponyville Twilight recalled the naiveté of her earlier self with amusement.  She had once been so proud of her childish caution and set of wards, but she had certainly outgrown all that.

Twilight now had a total of 43 wards around the tree-library she called home.  By building the wards up over time she had vastly improved the original thirteen wards to the point where it would take a fully powered magical blast from somepony stronger than an alicorn to break through.  She had also added wards with a number of other effects, including one against teleportation by anyone not authorized with the proper spell signature.  After Luna’s return a ward against dream walking seemed appropriate.  After Discord’s release she’d added one against Chaos magic, though that one was designed to attract chaos magic in hopes of employing some kind of magical reverse psychology.  Finally, after recalling the memory spell she’d used to recover her friends to themselves and defeat Discord, she added a ward against memory spells operating on anyone in her home.

All of which was to say that when an incredibly powerful memory spell blasted across all of Equestria, the wards on the Great Oaks Library blazed to life and pushed back against the incursion.  Inside, Twilight stirred from slumber long enough to note that her wards had activated and were still standing.  Since they hadn’t fallen nothing could have gone too wrong.  Resolving to deal with it in the morning she smiled sleepily, turned over, and went back to sleep.


***


The next morning Twilight was awoken by the sun shining in her eyes.  Since she hated waking up to an alarm and since Princess Celestia raised the sun at exactly the same time every day, she had calibrated her room such that the sun shone directly in her eyes at precisely 6:43 and 27 seconds.

Twilight also believed that waking up on round numbers inhibited creative thought.

She yawned and stretched her hooves up over her head.  Out of habit she glanced over at her wall clock and her mouth dropped open.

6:45 blinked innocently back at her.

“Spike! Wake up!  Something terrible has happened,” she shouted at the little dragon nestled in his bed-basket.

“Yeah Twi,” he responded, rubbing sleepily at his eyes.  “What’s up?”

“The sun was late!”  Strands of hair were curling out of her mane and a wild look had entered her eyes.  She had already left her bed and was rummaging through her bedroom bookshelves.  There wasn’t anything in those books that would be helpful, she kept the useful books in the basement stacks, but the act itself was calming.

Spike slowly made his way out of his blanket.  “How late exactly?  Because anything less than 5 minutes and I’m calling it within the margin of error.”

“Ah, hmm, well…” slowly Twilight’s gaze dropped from the bookshelf to the floor and she blushed slightly.  “Adding in the time it took to yawn and stretch and it was a little less than a minute and a half.”

“I rest my case.”  Spike scampered over to Twilight and gave her a hug.  “Even if it did happen, Princess Celestia’s probably just sleeping in.”  He headed off down the stairs and called over his shoulder, “Now come on, I’m making strawberry and ruby pancakes for breakfast.”

Following him, Twilight chuckled, “Hold the rubies on mine please.”

“One of these days I will get you to try gem-cuisine and you will love it,” Spike insisted.

Twilight caught up to him and ruffled his spines.  “Not today I’m afraid.”  With the ease of long familiarity Spike shrugged her off and stuck out his tongue.  The two siblings laughed and set off downstairs to enjoy their breakfast.


***


After a delicious stack of pancakes, sans rubies, Twilight set out for the market.  While Spike was probably right about the sun Twilight still wanted to double-check that nothing odd was going on.  It was a little early to call on most of her friends but she knew that, as a farmer, Applejack was an early riser and would have already set up her stall.

Relishing the cool clean morning air, Twilight broke into a gallop for the sheer joy of running on a beautiful day in the country.  The weather patrol hadn’t yet seeded the day’s clouds and the deep blue of the sky imparted a certain solidity to the idyllic thatch-roofed cottages of Ponyville. She nodded and smiled greetings to the other early risers as she passed them.

At last she neared the town square.  The streets opened up into a wide courtyard with a fountain containing a statue of a mythical animal, a dolphin if she remembered correctly, spitting water up into the air.  A few market stalls were already set up with sellers shouting their wares at the passersby.  Panting, Twilight skidded to a stop in front of a familiar wooden applecart.

“Whoa, nelly!  You in some kind a hurry there sugar cube?”  Applejack peered over her cart in concern and Twilight held up a hoof as she tried to catch her breath.

“Felt like galloping… forgot… out of shape…” Twilight gasped out.  “Water…” she wheezed and collapsed to the ground.

Applejack rolled her eyes at the dramatics but she trotted over to the fountain and brought back a cup of water for Twilight to guzzle down.  “Land sakes girl.  I know you ain’t an athlete but a simple run ‘cross town shouldn’t tire you out that much.”

Standing up, Twilight tried to gather the shreds of her dignity.  “Some of us, dear Applejack, are burdened with the weight of great knowledge,” she said haughtily.  “We must move with deliberation save on those rare occasions when we may surrender to the enjoyment of the natural world.”

Applejack chuckled.  “Oh aye, you’re burdened with a great weight alright.”  She poked Twilight in the belly and said, “trouble is it ain’t all in yer head.”

Twilight blushed as her belly jiggled a bit then laughed along with her friend.  “Alright, alright.  I should spend more time out of the library.”

Nodding firmly Applejack said, “I just want you to take care of yerself, sugar cube.  Now what brings you to the market this time of day?  I usually see you come ‘round in the afternoon.”

“I wanted to ask you a question,” Twilight replied, growing serious.  “Have you noticed anything odd today?  Anything weird going on with the sun?”

“With the sun? Can’t say I have.  Though I’ve not been paying it any particular mind.” Applejack admitted.

“It didn’t seem like it rose later than usual?” Twilight prodded.

The orange pony shrugged. “Not that I noticed.  Why?  Something going on with it?”

Frustration crossed Twilight’s face.  “I thought it rose one minute and thirty seconds late.  Spike thinks I just imagined it.”

“That’s probably it,” Applejack said, nodding.  “Or maybe Princess Luna’s sleeping in a bit.”

“Yeah, that’s what Spike–“ Twilight froze.  That was not what Spike had said.  “Applejack, what did you just say?”

Applejack looked at quizzically.  “Princess Luna’s sleeping in, you mean?  I know you idolize yer teacher but even she’s got to take breaks sometimes.”

“I’m not Luna’s student,” Twilight said with growing alarm.  “I’m Princess Celestia’s student.  You know, bright white pony, raises the sun every day?”  Applejack just stared blankly.  “Half of the diarchy?  Ruled alone for a thousand years while Luna was on the moon?  None of this is ringing a bell?”

“Twilight, Princess Luna’s ruled the lunar monarchy for as long as anypony can remember.”  Applejack spoke slowly and carefully, as if she was afraid Twilight had gone around the bend again.  “You’re the egghead, you’d know better than me if there was somethin’ different but as far as I know it’s only been Princess Luna.”

The two ponies stared at each other across the cart, each concerned about the other’s tenuous grasp of reality.  Around them the market had filled with shoppers and the murmur of trade filled the square.

“Alright, well, a survey of just two ponies is clearly inconclusive.  Let’s increase our sample size.”  Twilight grabbed the nearest passerby, a brown earth pony wearing blue and red glasses with an hourglass cutie mark, and dragged him over to the cart.  “Sorry sir but my friend and I are having a bit of a disagreement and were hoping you could resolve our little dispute.” She smiled cheerily, her eyes and grin each just a little too wide.

“Al-alright,” he stammered.  “What is it?”

“Could you please name the pony that raises the sun every day?” Twilight requested sweetly.

For a moment the earth pony looked confused.  He looked down and fumbled for a second with a silver pocket watch.  Then he shook his head and said confidently, “Princess Luna, of course.  Who else could raise the sun?”

“What?” Twilight squawked as hair sprung from her main like springs.  “But, but what about Princess Celestia?”

The earth pony had started backing up at Twilight’s exclamation.  At her question he jumped and ran off as fast as he could.  “Never heard of her,” he called back over his shoulder.

“Ah told you, sugar cube.  I’ve ain’t never heard of this Celestia—“

“Princess Celestia,” Twilight snapped.  She rushed up to the nearest passerby, a mint green unicorn with a harp cutie mark and a black hoody. “You. Princess Celestia. Ever heard of her?”

“N-no?”  The unicorn said uncertainly.

Twilight dashed off and grabbed another pony, this one a gargantuan white pegasus with tiny little wings.  “Never heard of Princess Celestia either, have you?”

“Yeah!”

“You have?” Twilight confirmed excitedly.

“No, I mean ‘yeah, I have never heard of Celestia’” He corrected.

“RRRRGGGHH!”  Twilight’s mane was starting to stand up and the tips had begun to smoke.  “Has anyone in this Celestia-blasted market heard of Princess Celestia?” she shouted. Her magic caught her voice and magnified it until it boomed across the entire square and cut off all conversation.  All eyes turned to purple unicorn crackling and smoking with involuntary magic.  “Princess Celestia!  Anyone?”

Eyes turned aside, embarrassed for the pony ranting in public. “Please,” Twilight almost whimpered.  “Somepony must know.  Somepony… the princess, you must know. Please.”

“Here now, sugar cube.”  Applejack walked up beside her and slung a comforting foreleg over Twilight’s shoulders.  “Let’s get you back to the library.  You’ll forget this whole thing with a good long rest.”  She began to lead the distraught unicorn toward home.

Applejack’s words sparked something in Twilight’s memory.  “Hold on…  There was something last night.  I woke up and felt something.”  Her purple face paled towards a Rarity shade of white.  “Oh no, the spell.  The one that hit my wards.  But which ward activated, what did it do?”  She shook her head to clear it and faced Applejack, her eyes growing serious but with a measure of control now that a hypothesis had been identified.

“Applejack, I need you to gather the others and meet me in the library as fast as possible.  I’m not going crazy, something is going on, and it’s potentially as bad as Discord.”

“I don’t think I should leave you alone, sugar cube.”  Applejack said worriedly.  “You’re not actin’ right.”

“I’m acting in a manner entirely commensurate with the trauma of losing one of my existential anchors,” Twilight snipped.  “Besides, you can’t stop me, I’m already gone.”  As she spoke her horn glowed brightly and with a flash of purple light the unicorn disappeared.

“Ah hate it when she does that.” Applejack muttered.  “Fine, get the others.  Might as well.  Best case scenario’s that Twi’s gone a little cuckoo, again.”  As she trotted off she grumbled under her breath, “and if she’s right then here we go again.”


***


Back at the library Twilight appeared with a quick flash and a puff of smoke.  Nestled in his favorite seat Spike looked up from his comic book as she appeared.

“Hey Twi, welcome back.”  He broke off suddenly as he caught sight of the worry on her face. Standing up he hurried over to her and his tone turned serious.  “What’s going on?”

“Spike!  Quick, who’s the pony that raises the sun?” she asked.  Her hooves jittered in place from nervous energy and he gaze kept darting around the room.

“Princess Celestia, of course.  Did something happen to her?” he asked, fear beginning to creep into his tone.

Twilight took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down, for Spike’s sake if not her own.  Just hearing him say “Princess Celestia” and knowing that she wasn’t the only one to remember her beloved mentor had already helped.  “Something might have,” she said, in answer to his question.  “The fact that you remember her suggests that my hypothesis is correct, but I need to verify it.”

“Right,” Spike said confidently.  “How can I help?”

“There’s nothing you can do right now, I just need to check my magisterium lexiconus.”

“You mean that book you use to keep track of your wards?” he asked.

“Spike, proper names are important,” Twilight chided.

“Yeah, but you only use the long name when you’re nervous…” he trailed off.  “Oh.”  Twilight offered a wobbly smile that was supposed to be reassuring but came off as anything but.  Spike wrapped his arms around her neck in a tight hug.  “Don’t worry Twilight.  Between you and the other girls and of course your number one assistant we can handle anything.”

“Thanks Spike,” she said, patting him on the back as her smile firmed.  “I’ll try and minimize the freak-outs.”  She paused for a moment in thought.  “Actually there is something you can do to help.”

“Name it! Anything,” Spike said enthusiastically as he broke the hug and stepped back.

“Could you make up a big batch of your special tea?  The girls are coming over and I have a feeling we could use something calming to drink.”

 “Gotcha,” he said, trotting toward the kitchen.  “One batch of sapphire steeped Darjeeling tea coming up.”

“Oh, and Spike?” she called after him.

“Yeah?”

“Hold the sapphires.”

“One of these days,” he grumbled as he disappeared into the other room.

Smiling and shaking her head Twilight turned her attention to the wooden statue of a horse’s head that decorated the center of the library.

Energy, warm and familiar flowed through her veins.  Channeling magic felt like slipping into a hot tub filled with coffee instead of water; every muscle in the body relaxed but the mind buzzed awake with possibilities.

Broadly speaking, magic in Equestria could be divided into three categories: spells, free magic, and immortal magic.  Spells were the easiest and most common form.  They consisted of the execution of a specific simple command.  For instance, the telekinesis spell that most unicorns learned was the command ‘move object’.  On the other hoof, Twilight’s teleportation was the command ‘move me’, which was more complex since to execute it successfully the caster had to implicitly understand how to move themselves without injury.  In addition to the telekinesis spell, unicorns tended to learn a number of other spells based around their special talent.  The number of spells a unicorn could learn was directly related to that unicorn’s magical skill.  Wards were just permanent negation commands.  A ward against fire would be the command ‘no fire’ and it would persist until attempts to create fire drained the ward of the magic initially put into it.  Finally, spells followed predictable patterns in terms of effort; lifting one kilogram was exactly half as difficult as lifting two kilograms.

Free magic was more difficult to explain precisely.  Rather than a specific command it consisted of a conscious understanding by the unicorn of all the necessary components for executing the magic on the environment.  For instance, to lift a kilogram with free magic would require the unicorn casting the spell be familiar enough with the object in question to determine relevant physical facts such as center of mass, air resistance, and elasticity.  Free magic was also more energy intensive than using a spell.  All mortal magic began as free magic and only after a unicorn mastered a spell in free form could they develop a spell to accomplish the same task more easily and then pass that spell on to successors to save them from repeating the same effort.  This was one of the ways magical research progressed.

For reasons of efficiency and ease of use, most unicorns used free magic only when a task was easy to comprehend but difficult to phrase as a simple command.  Illusion magic especially lent itself to free magic since once the properties of light were understood any illusion could be produced.  Otherwise, it would take a unique spell to produce each different illusion, and mastering that many different spells was a much more difficult undertaking than understanding light well enough to use free magic on it.

Twilight had earned her title of Archmage in part because she could both learn a vast number of spells relatively quickly, and because she had such a deep understanding of the natural world that she could confidently use free magic for most tasks.  By contrast, Rarity only knew the telekinesis spell and a gem detection spell and would hesitate to use free magic for most purposes.  However, because of her work making and modelling dresses, she was very skilled with telekinesis and often used minor illusions to show her dresses off to best effect.

Interestingly enough, spells and free magic as categories could be applied to pegasi and earth pony magic as well.  Rainbow Dash was, in many respects, the pegasus equivalent of Twilight.  To fly, a pegasus would assemble a collection of innate spells for controlling the air flow around them in precise ways; the more spells a pegasus had and could use at one time, the better they were at flying.  Rainbow had developed enough flying spells that she could actually fly upside down, something conceptually impossible to most pegasi because they lacked her innate understanding of the applications and combinations of flight spells.  Her understanding of the weather was similarly intuitive, enabling her to use free magic to alter an entire sky’s worth of clouds in “ten seconds flat”.

Applejack was similar in her skills to Rainbow Dash and Twilight Sparkle. Earth ponies traditionally developed a core set of spells which enhanced their strength and resilience.  Earth pony free magic tended to deal with encouraging life and growth.  It also tended to be more fundamental than unicorn or pegasi free magic.  With free magic a unicorn could grow a seed to a mature plant in a matter of minutes.  An earth pony could grow an orchard from seedlings to fruit producing trees in a year.  Naturally, Applejack had had many opportunities to hone both spells and free magic while working on the farm and it was more through hard work than any inborn genius that she was on a similar plane as Rainbow Dash and Twilight.

Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy were both odd cases.  So far as Twilight had been able to tell, Fluttershy eschewed magic entirely and communicated with her animals purely through empathy and experience born of long practice.  For a time, Twilight had suspected the kind yellow pony had somehow tapped into a well of earth pony magic, but nothing had ever shown up on her detectors.  Pinkie Pie, on the other hoof, was a drunken master of free form magic.  Probably.  Twilight still hadn’t actually been able to guarantee that Pinkie was using magic at all, but it was the only hypothesis that made any sense.

Immortal magic was different.

Both spells and free magic were, at heart, a mechanical process.  Any pony that cast a given spell would get the same result.  Any pony with the same degree of focus and knowledge would produce the same result from free magic.  Granted, few ponies had exactly the same level of focus or knowledge, but results would generally fall within the same ball park.  Using free magic Twilight could turn a teacup into an orange and Rarity, attempting the same thing, would probably end up turning her teacup orange and perhaps imbuing any tea within it with slight citrus overtones.

Immortal magic was less predictable and more personable, inextricably tied to the self of the caster.  For alicorns and other immortals it was a birthright.  Even just reaching out to it would produce tangible physical changes.  They would stand, larger than life, beautiful and terrible, awe-full in the oldest sense of the word, and as they held that power all the world would grow still and lean in to listen to their will.

Another piece of immortal magic were the mantles of the natural world.  Through carefully questioning of Princess Celestia, Twilight had teased out that the power to move the sun was immortal magic, but that it was connected to the sun, not to the princess.  Her own immortal magic allowed her to possess or pass on the mantle.  While she had it, it was tied to her and changed her for possessing it, but in the end it belonged only to the sun.

Similar to the connection between immortals and mantles, those rare mortals that touched immortal magic were indelibly marked by it.  Anypony that knew how to look for it could see the traces on the bearers of the Elements of Harmony.  They would be able to tell which trees Applejack had bucked instead of her brother, or which clouds Rainbow had created.  There were subtler effects as well, a weight leant to their opinions and presence that led other ponies, even the mayor, to defer to the mane six.  Every time the Elements were used the effects grew more pronounced, and not even Twilight could say for sure how mortal ponies might be changed by prolonged exposure to immortal magic.

Naturally, this effect applied in spades for the princesses and other immortals.  Any use of their magic, spells, free, or immortal, was clearly marked as having been cast by an immortal, though it was not necessarily clear which immortal was responsible.  To those few magical researchers that worried about such things it was a relief that, no matter how powerful or esoteric the spell, it was irrevocably marked as the product of the magic of an immortal and thus identifiable as Princess Celestia’s work, at least until Luna had returned.

Twilight had never before had cause to examine a spell to determine if the caster was an alicorn or not.  Still, she was confident she could translate the theory she knew into practice.  As she removed her magisterium lexiconus its hiding place, she reviewed what she knew of the process.  The spell that had pinged her wards would have left a trace.  Her knowledge of immortal magic would inform a free magic comparison between that type of magic and the trace that had been left.  If she did it right a positive result would indicate that an alicorn had been responsible for the spell and a negative result would mean that it had been an ordinary pony.

By the time her friends arrived Twilight had cast the spell and confirmed her hypothesis, assuming that she had done it right.  She estimated that the odds of her having made a mistake were about one in four, which was good enough for the moment.

Spike pushed around his tea cart, serving the newcomers, as the five ponies all settled in around the center table where Twilight had set up her work.

“Now then dear,” said Rarity, sipping her tea.  “What ever is going on?  Applejack said you sounded agitated earlier today.”

“Agitated?  Applejack said she was all mane-springy and eye-twitchy and we all know what that means.”  Pinkie bugged her eyes out in an attempt to convey her message.  When that failed she threw her hooves up and shouted, “there’s a big meany thingamawhosits and we’re going to have to blast it with rainbow harmony magic.”  Without two of her supporting hooves Pinkie thudded to the ground only to spring off her mane and back to her feet.

“Blasting is the only way to make friendship magic sound cool, but I still think we should just give them the old one-two,” said Rainbow Dash as she boxed with her shadow.

“Or we could, you know, talk to the problem.  I’m sure a nice quiet conversation will let us solve Twilight’s problem and send a friendship letter to Princess Luna.”  As everypony looked at her Fluttershy shrank back and sipped at her tea.  “Or we could blast things, if you wanted too,” she whispered.  Then, even more quietly she said, “I’m really not a fan of blasting though.”

“I’m afraid we might have to use the Elements of Harmony after all.  Here, look at this.”  Twilight placed her spellbook on the table so everyone could see it.  On the page was a bar graph showing a number of small bars and one very tall one covered the full two page spread.

“What exactly are we lookin’ at here, Twi?” asked Applejack.

“It’s a graph of the wards on my library,” Twilight explained.  “The smaller bars represent small uses of magic that have been deflected, mostly from the Everfree or residues of other ponies’ spells.  It’s this bar here that’s the problem.”  She pointed to the long bar.  “That’s my memory spell ward, it prevents anypony from altering the memories of any living thing inside my library.  Late last night it blocked a large scale memory wiping spell.”

“Meaning… what exactly?”

“Meaning, Rainbow Dash, that the rest of you and quite possibly all of Equestria had your memories wiped last night.  Based on the conversation I had with Applejack I think it’s pretty easy to guess what, or who, was removed from your memories.”

Rarity delicately raised a hoof in question.  “Now hold on a second.  If this was a memory wiping spell then wouldn’t there be a gap in our memories?  I can’t speak for everypony but my memory is most certainly not full of holes.”

“Minds are pretty resilient,” Twilight answered.  “Given the chance your mind will fill in gaps all on its own.  And a memory spell supercharges that natural process.  We might be able to find differences in your memories if we spent a couple of days rigorously comparing everypony’s memories since I’ve come to Ponyville, but we don’t have time for that.“  She tapped the page with her hoof.  “Right now, Princess Celestia has been forgotten by everypony except me.  I don’t know exactly what’s happened but it’s clear that she needs our help.”

Rarity and Applejack exchanged skeptical looks.  “So you’re sayin’ that this Celestia pony—“

“Princess Celestia,” corrected Twilight, wincing at the informality.

Applejack rolled her eyes.  “Alright so, as you explained earlier, Princess Celestia is actually the ruler of Equestria and has somehow been erased from everypony’s mind. And you figured this out because the sun might’ve risen one minute late and one of your wards is actin’ funny?”  She shook her head.  “Sorry Twi but that’s a mighty tall tale to swallow.”

“It’s true,” Twilight snapped.  “Spike remembers too. Tell them, Spike.”

“I do remember Princess Celestia as well.  It’s hard to forget your surrogate mother,” his voice trembled a little from worry.  It firmed a bit as he pushed the tea cart around again.  “More tea anypony?” he offered, glad to be helping in some small way.

“Please, darling,” said Rarity holding her tea cup out in a dainty blue field of magic.  “This feels like a two tea cup problem, at least.”

Spike still blushed when Rarity talked to him but his claw was steady as he poured the tea, the result of several hours of practice after a rather embarrassing Rarity related tea mishap.  Everypony considered the situation as he poured except Pinkie, who had got stuck when Rarity mentioned holes in her memory and was now considering the possibility of holes in memory being like holes in Swiss cheese and wondering what a memory would taste like.

“If Celestia—“ Fluttershy began.

“Princess Celestia,” Twilight corrected waspishly, rubbing at her temples.

Fluttershy meeped at the sharp tone but continued anyway.  “I think If Princess Celestia needs our help then we should try and help her.  Though I don’t really know what I can do.”

“That’s a good point, Fluttershy.”  Rarity turned to look at Twilight.  “Even if you’re right, what exactly can we do about it?  Not even you can cast a spell across the entirety of Equestria.  You’d have to be an alicorn to cast such a spell.”

Twilight shifted uneasily.  “That’s what I was checking when you all came in.  I believe the memory spell was cast by an alicorn. What do you remember about the first time we used the Elements of Harmony?”

“We used them to blast the Nightmare and send it packing,” Dash declared confidently.

“Right, but what was the Nightmare?” Twilight pushed.

“It was, uh…” Dash paused uncertainly.  “It was some monster that had been stuck on the moon, yeah?  It got loose and we had to take care of it.”

“That monster was Luna,” Twilight said, to gasps from the others.  “She was under the control of the Nightmare and we used the Elements to set her free.  I think she’s under its power again and has done away with Princess Celestia and wiped out the memory of her so no pony can rescue her.  Well I for one do remember, and I’m not going to abandon Princess Celestia!  We’re going to go and use the Elements of Harmony on her again and fix this mess.  Got it?” she challenged.

Everypony was silent as the dangerous idea Twilight had espoused hung in the air before them.

“Twilight, that’s,” Rainbow hesitated.  “That’s almost treason.  Even if you are her student—“

“I’m not!” Twilight slammed a hoof down on the table.  “I’m Princess Celestia’s student.”

“Student to a princess no pony else remembers,” Rarity shot back, her voice rising.

Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “I remember her, and right now she needs my help.  Our help.  What happened to the ponies that ran into the Everfree forest with a stranger on the off chance that it might help the Princess?”

Winces crossed the table at Twilight’s biting words.

“Hey!  Don’t talk to Rarity that way,” Rainbow Dash jumped in.  “You’re the one acting all weird, talking about things no pony else remembers.”

“Why’s everypony getting all shouty?” Pinkie asked sadly, ears flat back against her head.

Fluttershy also tried to intervene.  “If we could just all calm down a little?  Please?”

They both went unheard as Applejack joined the fray.  “You can’t come to us with fairy tales about some pony named Celestia and expect us ta just up and attack Princess Luna on yer say so.”

Twilight shot to her feet, head pounding.  “Princess Celestia isn’t a fairy tale!  But fine! If you lot won’t take this seriously then I’m going to save her myself.”  She stomped over to the door, pausing briefly to call back to Spike, “come on, she needs us.”

Spike quickly removed his apron and ran to follow.  From behind Rarity called, “Spike, maybe you should stay with us.”  Twilight hesitated at the door but didn’t turn around to look.  Spike didn’t even slow down.  He caught up to Twilight and before anypony could say anything else the door slammed behind them.

Outside, anger drove Twilight at a punishing pace as she stalked toward the train station and Spike had to practically run to keep up with her.  Noting his effort she slowed slightly and said in a clipped tone of voice, “thanks Spike.”

He patted her shoulder.  “I’m not getting left behind again,” he said firmly.  “I hope you have a plan though because I’m not sure what we can do about the Nightmare alone.”

“I had planned to use the Elements, but without my friends,” Twilight shook her head.  “I don’t know.  Why didn’t they just help?” she asked plaintively.

“You can hardly blame them,” Spike offered reasonably.  “I’m sure this all looks pretty odd from their perspective, even considering the stuff we usually get up to.  Attacking a pony they think of as the princess to rescue Princess Celestia when they don’t even remember her.  And it didn’t help that you got angry pretty fast.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have shouted,” Twilight conceded reluctantly.  She rubbed her head.  “This situation’s painful and this headache’s not helping my temper.  Whatever.  It doesn’t matter now.  We need a way to prove to them that Luna has become the Nightmare again.  And to do that we need to be in Canterlot.”

“So that’s why we’re headed to the train station?” Spike asked.

“Yes,” Twilight confirmed.  And, she thought, I hope I can think of a way to face down an angry alicorn by the time we make it to the Canterlot, or we might end up in just as much trouble as Princess Celestia, wherever she is.
> Chapter 2: An Interrupted Court
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Luna was having a bad day.

The shock of her sister’s departure, coupled with the sudden burden of responsibility had all but pushed her original complaints from her thoughts.  Raising the sun was a challenge all its own for the sun was restive and angry compared to her placid moon.  Even as she lifted it to bring the morning it lay bloated and heavy in her magic, feeling like nothing so much as a giant ball of gas caught in the gut.

Having recently returned from the moon Luna barely even knew the current form of Equestria’s government, let alone the major players of the court.  However, she was determined to be an adequate replacement for her sister.  She spent the morning cramming every bit of knowledge that might prove useful into her poor abused brain.  As noon rolled around Sunlit Rooms, a white pegasus with a ray of sunlight for a cutie mark that Luna appeared to have inherited as her primary assistant, herded her gently but inevitably toward the throne room.

Court commenced at 3:00pm and the lunar princess was soon subject to such idiocy, cupidity, and sheer lunacy that she was seriously considering returning to the moon and closing the way behind her.  Thus, Luna was somewhat relieved when, at 3:03pm, the doors to the great hall slammed open and Twilight Sparkle strode through.

“In the name of Princess Celestia I vow to topple thee, Nightmare!” Twilight’s declaration rang through the shocked silence of the hall.  She gathered up a mighty pulse of purple energy and unleashed it at Luna before turning and galloping away.  As she fled Luna could make out Spike crouched low upon her back.

“Your student has disrupted the court,” gasped one of the Nobles.

My student? thought Luna.  Ah yes, I suppose I’m filling in for Tia there as well.  It matters not.  Anything to get out of here.

“Indeed.  Court is dismissed for the moment while I deal with my wayward pupil,” she said aloud.  Spreading her wings wide, Luna took flight and sped after the departing Archmage.

As she crossed the threshold of the door her wings suddenly lacked any lift and she flipped head over heels and crashed to the floor.  How… I see.  A square of vacuum hovered in the doorway to stop my flight.  Clever.  Luna caught site of Twilight just turning the corner at high speed, skewing the long red carpet to one side as she ran.

Intent on her prey Luna gathered her magic and flashed off a line-of-sight teleport to the end of the hall.  The instant she appeared a purple light flashed directly in her eyes sending her off balance.  A bolt of force followed and she stumbled backward, tripping over the scuffed rug.  Luna reached to catch herself on the wall and was shocked to find herself falling through it and down.  Furiously she blinked to clear her eyes and stretched her wings out wide to slow her fall.

Luna almost had succeeded in turning her fall into a controlled descent when a weight suddenly smashed into her back.

“Now!” Twilight Sparkle screamed directly into her ear.  Luna flinched.  She heard the tail end of Spike inhaling and then with the exhale there was a great burst of heat. The world grew still and sharp, like a note ringing on and on just above her range of hearing.

Her personal wards flickered into visibility around her, manifesting as clear panes of glass tinted pastel colors.  Luna bucked against the weight on her back as Spike’s dragonfire strained her spells.  With a crash the wards shattered, sharp shards of spells splintered through the air before dissolving into sparkling motes.

Immediately, Luna flared her magic, electrifying the air around her.  Unfortunately for the princess, even as the wards broke Twilight had leapt from her back and stood at the opening of a long dark corridor.  She cocked her head in apparent confusion.

“Alright, time for plan B,” she muttered under her breath.  Magic gathered at the end of the purple pony’s horn and was released in another beam of purple magic.  Luna barely managed to get up a shield of midnight blue in time.  As an alicorn she would probably have been able to take the hit, but Twilight Sparkle had proved to be a clever opponent and the risk wasn’t worth it.

True to form, Twilight had a trick planned.  As Luna’s shield blocked the attack from the front, a sliver of magic struck from behind and swept her legs out from under her.  Luna crashed to the floor for the third time in as many minutes.

With a savage grin Twilight called back, “catch me if you can, Nightmare!” then turned and ran down the corridor.

Irked, Luna very nearly charged after Twilight without thinking.  The memory of her recent failure with that strategy shamed her into a greater degree of caution.  She reached for her magic and pieced together a quick set of shield spells.  The haste with which they were assembled meant they were weaker than the wards they were replacing, but they were still better than nothing.  She also cast a suite of sensory enhancement spells designed to give her warning for any physical traps and a magic detection spell to help her counter Twilight’s magical attacks.

When she had finished preparing scarcely a minute had passed and the clip clop of Twilight’s hooves could still be heard from down the corridor.  Luna set off with a grim smile of her own, trusting her longer legs would quickly bring her to her prey.

What followed was one of the most challenging games of hide and seek Luna could ever remember playing.  She didn’t have to hold back so it was cathartic to a certain extent, allowing her release from the tensions of court.  On the other hoof, when she got her hooves on Twilight Sparkle there was going to be a new Archmage-shaped crater on the peak of the Canterhorn.

Catching the blasted unicorn proved easier said than done.  Every time Luna thought she was gaining ground she’d reach a dead end or a room sealed with immortal magic set by her sister and impassable without blowing the entire section of the castle to pieces.

Which was not an option. Yet.

When she stopped running to concentrate on using free magic to locate or control Twilight, the unicorn would appear, often through an apparently solid wall, ceiling, or on one occasion in a free standing mirror in the center of the corridor, and blast her with enough magic to disrupt her concentration and force her to resume the chase.  Defensive spells were broken with dragonfire and even with her sensory improvements and magical detection spells she fell prey to entirely too many tripwires, deadfalls, and perfectly placed buckets of water.

It had been centuries since Luna had had that much fun.  This was the kind of combat she relished.  One on one, no politics to worry about, no need to hold back, just sheer magical and physical ability and a worthy foe to test oneself against.  It was surprising that that foe was a mortal, but Luna supposed it was to be expected of her sister’s prized pupil.  After this was over she resolved to become better friends with Twilight Sparkle and learn just how she had managed half of the tricks she had pulled off.  Of course, step one in that plan was capturing the thrice-blasted slippery unicorn and teaching her not to meddle in the affairs of immortals.

Luna growled as Twilight slipped through an attempt to box her in, apparently by walking straight through a wall.  A unicorn shouldn’t be able to do that! Luna griped.  And even if she could she must be getting tired.  Even I’m a bit winded after all this and I have the stamina of an earth pony.  The lunar princess walked slowly toward the intersection where her trap had been set, using the time to catch her breath.

Gazing down one of the corridors she could just glimpse Twilight, horn glowing as she prepared some further devilry.  Sensing an opportunity, Luna used free magic to bend the light away and render herself invisible.  She crept down the passageway as silently as she could, preparing a spell designed to immediately counter any spell a unicorn cast. It required the caster to be significantly more powerful than the target to succeed and the difficulty meant the range of the spell was very short but if Luna could just get close enough victory would be hers.

Twenty feet until she was in range.

Ten feet.

Five

One.

With a great shout Luna flung aside her invisibility and lunged at Twilight, casting her spell as she did.  The light around the unicorn’s horn winked out and then the unicorn herself disappeared.  Luna had time only to curse as a blast of force struck her from behind and catapulted her into the stone wall of the corridor.

Or through it.

The cold tingle of an illusion washed against her fur followed by a blast of water from above that sent her wet body crashing upside down onto a pile of gold coins.  As Luna lay on the pile, attempting to make sense of the inverted world, Twilight and Spike followed her through the illusionary stone wall and the waterfall that had resulted in her current circumstances.

Confusion and dawning horror filled the unicorn’s face.  “L-Luna?  But that’s not… How… What?” she stammered.  “I thought you were the Nightmare.”

For her part Luna rolled all the way onto her back and stretched all four legs up into the air, laughing heartily.  “The Nightmare?  Is that what this is about?  I’m not the Nightmare, as I would have explained to you had I been given the smallest opportunity.  But I’m curious, what was the point of attacking an alicorn alone?  You kept me at bay admirably but you couldn’t hope to win.”

“She wasn’t alone. She had me,” Spike declared, clambering down from his perch on Twilight’s back.

Luna chuckled again and rolled onto her stomach.  “Quite right, and you fought well, young drake.  However, my question stands. Twilight Sparkle, what did you hope to accomplish?”

“I had planned to reveal you as the Nightmare,” Twilight said.  The wariness in her eyes as she regarded Luna had not yet faded.  “Dragonfire to cut through your illusion or, failing that, the Thief’s Downfall.”

“Thief’s Downfall?”  Luna pondered for a moment and then her eyes lit with understanding.  “Ah yes, that waterfall I passed through.  My sister’s security system for the treasury.  An immortal spell that cancels all illusion and compulsion so that none may steal the kingdom’s gold.”  She glanced at the piles of coins scattered around them.  “Yes that would have worked, though I must remember to look into sealing up secret passages leading to the treasury, they rather defeat the purpose of guards.  So, once you reveled me, then what?”

“The Elements of Harmony are in a vault on the passage to the right,” said Twilight pointed back the way they had entered.  “After the Discord incident I made Princess Celestia give me the key to the wards.  I planned to grab them, head back to Ponyville, assemble the others, and BOOM friendship rainbow and everything goes back to normal.”

“You planned to simply walk away from an alicorn enraged at having her plot revealed?  That would have been rather difficult, I think,” Luna pointed out.

Twilight shook her head.  “As you probably know, this castle is the demesne of Princess Celestia.  Every turn bends to her will, every staircase and corridor goes where she desires it to.  As her faithful student, and as an inquisitive and powerfully magical unicorn who was raised here, I am more in tune with the castle than any other pony except the Princess herself.  With that advantage and perhaps a small illusion or two I could have been long gone before you even understood that you were chasing a shadow.”

She was right, Luna realized.  An immortal’s demesne was when the immortal saturated an area with their magic, essentially making the entire area an extension of their self.  Without any need for additional magic, doors would open at their will, corridors would lead directly to their destination and even walls might shift around to accommodate them.  Naturally, it conveyed a powerful home field advantage.  Celestia had almost certainly willed the castle to assist Twilight and, unlike spells which required a specific command, a demesne was almost alive and perfectly capable of broadly interpreting orders to protect a pony.  Knowing about Twilight’s affinity for Celestia’s demesne went a long way toward explaining how she had done so well in their contest.

Luna felt a brief pang of sorrow, remembering the Castle of the Two Sisters in the Everfree.  It had been a demesne shared between the princesses and a proper home for both of them.  Canterlot Castle belonged solely to Celestia and it did not welcome her in the way their old stronghold had. Still, even with the castle working against her it would take a powerful unicorn indeed to successfully leverage that into an advantage.  Mentally she upgraded her estimation of Twilight.  Not on par with an alicorn of course, but formidable nonetheless.

First among mortals, one might say.

The memory of another unicorn who had worn that phrase and very nearly beaten her oh so recently curled around her mind and the good mood she’d had from exercise and challenge soured.

“You underestimate the power of an alicorn,” said Luna, brusquely.  The princess rose to her feet, gold coins rolling off her back like water.  “It doesn’t matters.  Return to Ponyville, Twilight Sparkle.  I will overlook your attack because of the debt I owe you for freeing me from the Nightmare, but this little game is over.”

“It is not over!”  Twilight stamped her hoof and coins clinked as they spun away.  “What have you done to Princess Celestia?  Why did you make everypony forget her?”

Luna spun about and glared down at the smaller mare.  “You labor under a small misapprehension, Twilight Sparkle.  I did not cast that spell.”

“Impossible,” Twilight protested.  “That spell came from an immortal.  The only other pony who could have cast it is…” she trailed off, not wanting to follow the logic to the end.

“Indeed,” Luna laughed bitterly.  “On the heels of an argument my dear sister decided that it was time I stand on my own four legs.  She has decamped to parts unknown, leaving me an entire unfamiliar kingdom to manage and depriving her subjects of even the hint of a memory of her.”  The princess frowned.  “Except for you and Spike.  How is it that you still remember my sister after her memory spell?”

 “I have wards for everything, including memory spells,” Twilight said shortly.  “More importantly, do you have any idea how to bring Princess Celestia back?”

“And why would I want to do that?” Luna asked vindictively, enjoying the chance pass her own distress along to another.  “Here I am, finally the sole ruler of Equestria.  I led a rebellion to achieve this goal and now I find it handed to me on a silver platter.  Who am I to turn it down?”

“I will find Princess Celestia,” Twilight said, not with hope or desire but with certainty.  “With or without your help the Princess of Day shall return.”

“I know she’s your teacher, but such devotion,” Luna marveled cruelly. “Do you love—“

Twilight interrupted, “It’s more than love.  There is nothing I would not do for her.”

Luna spoke slyly, “Even—“

“Nothing,” said flatly.  “If she ordered me to walk off the astronomy tower I would happily do it.

“Confident that she would catch you before you hit the ground?” Luna asked.

Twilight corrected her. “Confident that if I hit the ground it would serve her purpose.”

The two ponies stared at one another, eye to eye, taking each other’s measure.  In the background Spike watched out of the corner of his eye while he gathered a few of the tastiest gemstones.

At last Luna nodded slowly.  “I’ve changed my mind, Twilight Sparkle.  I will use your devotion to my sister.  You will stay in Canterlot as my principal advisor and aid me in holding court.  This will allow you to search for my sister, keep an eye on me, and make sure Celestia’s plans are kept as undisturbed as possible.  Is this agreeable to you?”

For a moment Twilight thought and then she nodded.  “Fine,” she said, her affect flat and all the more frightening for it.  “But if I find out that you are in fact responsible for Princess Celestia’s circumstances then one of us is going to die.”  The Archmage turned on her heels and the locked doors sprung open as she strode out of the treasury.

Luna turned to look at Spike.  “I don’t remember her being quite so intense.”

He shrugged.  “She’s acting odd today but Princess Celestia has always been important to her.  Kind a mother, teacher, first crush, and goddess all rolled into one.  I’m not surprised she got a little odd when the princess went missing.  The other princess that is.  There is one thing you should understand though.”

The princess cocked an eyebrow.  “What’s that?”

Spike took a deep breath.  “The way she feels about Celestia?  That’s the way I feel about her.  Her magic brought me into this world, and even now its fire fuels the beat of my heart and grants me the capacity to feel as ponies do.  My first memory is the feel of her magic on my scales as she stroked away my fears.  If she comes after you I will be right there beside her.  And then we’ll see if in this castle an Archmage, and a dragon can surpass an alicorn.”

As Spike left the room Luna’s eyes lingered on his sharp claws and she noted the smooth grace of a predator in his walk.  He was young, yes, but he was still a dragon and no dragon should be taken lightly.  Though the lunar princess had gained two sun-blessed allies, she couldn’t help but worry that they might prove more dangerous to her than to their mutual obstacles.


***


The guards of Canterlot Castle had long ago grown used to odd behavior from Twilight Sparkle.  She had been a hoofful when she had arrived as a foal, and the less said about the activities of the teenaged Archmage the better, particularly after the Oat Bale Incident.

Thus, when Twilight stormed out of one of the most secure rooms in the castle past guards that had not seen her enter, they managed to keep a stone face in true Royal Guard fashion.  Their resolve was further tested when Spike followed after and asked for dinner to be sent to the chambers he shared with Twilight and for somepony to wake them before the start of court the next day.  Finally, their composure broke when a disheveled Princess Luna followed after Spike and passed along the same request.  The loss of composure took the form of each guard raising a single eyebrow.  Slightly.

The palace guards were very well trained.

Twilight, however, was in no mood to acknowledge the legendary equanimity of the palace guards.  Her headache had returned in full force and was feeding into the anger she let guide her footsteps, trusting the castle to bring her to her rooms.  Hooves pounded stone and carpet as though they had personally offended; maids yelped and dove out of the way as Twilight passed.  She scarcely noticed the fear she inspired in those she encountered and when she did she was grimly pleased.

On and on her legs carried her until at last a thought penetrated the pounding fog of anger in her mind.  This is taking far too long.  Even from the treasury, my room is closer than this.  As the thought crossed her mind she came to a dead end, a rare occurrence in Canterlot Castle, especially for her.  Looking closer, she found a plain wooden door set into the left wall of the corridor.

Opening the door she nearly jumped back in fright.  On all sides, images of a mad pony loomed over her.  Smoke curled from the pony’s disarrayed mane and her teeth were gritted with a hint of sharpness no herbivore should have possessed.  Her purple coat stood on end and faint crackles of electricity could be seem jumping from the unkempt clumps of fur.

So frightening and strange was the image that it took Twilight several moments to realize she was seeing her own reflection.  With that dawning realization, alarm at her appearance overcame her fear and she ventured forth into what she now realized was a hall of mirrors.

It was a long hall, with large square mirrors in gilt frames hung like portraits on the walls.  In between rested smaller round hoofheld mirrors.  The ceiling and floor were each one great pane of glass, giving the viewer the impression that they hung in space, supported only by their own inverted image below and supporting infinite versions of themselves above.  Twilight wandered forward in a daze, her eyes darting from mirror to mirror, hoping to find one that held a less alien visage.

That’s not me, she thought.  I’m not an angry pony.  Anxious and paranoid with some obsessive compulsive tendencies, sure, but not angry.  The mirrors stood in silent disagreement with her claims.  I’ve been angry twice today?  Three times?  That is odd.

Mirror Twilight’s clenched expression slowly began to relax into confusion.  I shouted at all my friends before storming out.  By Celestia, I even shouted at Luna.  I threatened her.  Her eyes widened. I attacked her in front of the entire court.  What in Tartarus was I thinking?

She gazed around again at her reflections.  They looked more sorrowful now but there was still a hint of anger lurking in the messy mane and coat.  I understand now.  The castle brought me here to see what the anger does to me.  Twilight brought up a hoof and rested it on the nearest mirror.  “Thank you for showing me this, castle” she said aloud.  “I need better self-control.  I don’t want to live up to what your reflections show.  It’ll help, I think, being aware of the problem.  Now I just have to be a better pony.”

Nodding firmly to herself at her new resolution Twilight walked confidently to the door on the far side and walked out.  As she walked away she heard a great tinkling crash as thousands of mirrors collided and shattered.  Twilight smiled, confident that that meant she had learned the lesson the castle intended and so the room was no longer needed.

Back in her chambers Twilight found Spike and dinner waiting.  She opted to consult the former and consume the latter.

Spike, for his part, greeted her with concern.  “Where were you, Twilight?  You left before me but the trip took you half an hour longer.”

“The castle took me on a little detour.”  Twilight sat down at the table and breathed in the smell of freshly baked bread with deep satisfaction.  “Tell me honestly, Spike, have I been angry a lot today?”  She scooped up a piece of bread and covered it in a layer of creamy butter.

“Well, yeah,” he said, joining her at the table.  “I mean, it’s not too surprising considering everything that’s happened.  But I’ve been worried about it.  It isn’t like you.”

Twilight nodded.  “That’s what the castle wanted to show me.  That I’ve been letting my anger turn me into something I’m not. Or at least, somepony that I don’t want to be.”

“Are you sure that’s all it is, Twilight?  You’ve faced plenty of monsters before but I’ve never seen you get so angry so quickly.” Spike filled his own plate spinach and emeralds.  “It’s just, dismissing the problem as you needing to control your temper better sounds like a cliché answer to a problem you’ve never really had before. ”

“I think that’s it.” Twilight answered with less confidence than she’d had before.  “Do you have a different idea of why I’ve been getting uncharacteristically angry?”

The little dragon shook his head.  “Not exactly.  I just have a feeling that something else is at work.”

Waving a piece of bread for emphasis Twilight took on a light scolding tone.  “You know the rules, mister.  You need evidence before anypony will believe your hypothesis.  Otherwise you end up looking like those crazy ponies who believe Equestria is a sphere or that we orbit the sun.”

“Alright,” Spike laughed.  “But I’m keeping a close eye on you and if there is any evidence to be found them I will find it and present it to the committee.”

“Properly formatted, I should hope?” Twilight prodded.

“My Little Annotation format, all the way through.”

Slinging a foreleg around Spike Twilight declared proudly, “we’ll make a scholar out of you yet.”

Spike smiled back.  “I hope so, Twi, I hope so.”


***


For Twilight, running morning court was a kind of stress relief.  Each petitioner was a puzzle and it was her job to find the best solution and show her work so others could follow along.  True, on the other occasions when she’d led court Princess Celestia had been on hoof, ready to intervene if a mistake was made.  For this reason, she initially worried that she might overstep her bounds in passing rulings from the throne, as it were.  Though she was actually sitting one step down from the royal dais in a seat that was one size shy of the royal throne.  However, every time she glanced backwards and up at Luna seated on the solar, or lunar now she supposed, throne she was greeted with a look of profound relief.  Luna hadn’t had to hold court in over 1000 years and she clearly had never been fond of it in the first place.

Meeting Luna for morning court had been its own form of stress.  They had not parted on the best note and Twilight, mindful of her resolve to be a less angry pony, was worried that their argument might continue.  Luna, on the other hoof, seemed to consider the matter settled and was clearly grateful for the Archmage’s presence and expertise.  Twilight, for her part, was more than willing to go along with Luna and conduct court while leaving the argument behind.

That was not to say that court was entirely a stress free environment.  There were plenty of aggravations to be had and most of them held titles.

In principle, the court was open for anypony to come and have their disputes or problems resolved by the Princess.  In practice, the nobility tended to monopolize the court’s time, partially because ordinary ponies were intimidated by the court and partially because the nobilities’ concerns really were bigger.  While Twilight preferred seeing the joy in a pony’s face when she smoothed the path to their dreams, she realized that setting proper standards on tax rates and land usage, to name one example, could benefit far more ponies in the long run.

Currently, Blueblood was declaiming on the merits of his latest project.  “That is why declaring a special financial enhancement region in section 3 of Canterlot with a corresponding rural component of 900 square miles centered on the nature preserve colloquially referred to as “White tail woods” would raise the standard of living in Canterlot by 15%.”

There were murmurs of approval from the gallery, composed mainly of nobles who stood to profit from Blueblood’s proposal.  If Twilight were a cynical pony, and she was, she would suspect that they had been briefed on exactly how to respond to each statement from Blueblood.

A purple glow surrounded Blueblood’s proposal as it rose from his grasp and floated over to Twilight.  “The White-Tail woods are the traditional home of the deer,” Twilight said, probing for weakness while she reread the document.  “While we nominally have sovereignty in that region, tradition and treaties between our two species make the action you propose unwise.”

“As you well know, Archmage, the deer have recently suffered from a plague that reduced their population size.  Offering to buy their land is a kindness,” Blueblood answered.  “They no longer need the land but our bits could be very valuable indeed to their relief efforts.”

“One might argue that the equine thing to do would be to simply send aid to our oldest and dearest neighbors,” Twilight countered.

Blueblood flashed a rueful smile.  “Unfortunately, the world simply is not that kind.  Why I doubt you’d be able to find more than one or two nobles willing to lend their resources to an aid mission for non-ponies.  Though I do suspect they’d become more generous if they believed that a new agreement with the deer was in the offing.  One that reaffirms the close ties between our peoples and arranges for our stewardship of land they no longer need.”

Scanning the assembled nobles Twilight was forced to agree with his estimation.  Duke Fancypants would likely have volunteered to spearhead an aid mission.  Unfortunately, he rarely attended court unless prompted, preferring to shore up his power through broad popularity with the populace and close alignment with the princess’s own plans.  Without him, none of the members of his faction had the courage to act on their own.

Inspiration struck and Twilight put her idea into action.  “If you guarantee that an aid mission will be sent immediately I suppose I can sign off on this proposal,” she said.

“Of course.”  Blueblood gestured magnanimously.  “After all I am only thinking of everypony’s best interest.”

Twilight reached for the official signing quill and held it to the page.  About to sign, she paused for a brief moment.  Then her eyes widened and the hoof holding the quill moved to the side of the parchment.  At the same time she surreptitiously cast a small spell on the paper.

“What’s this?”  Twilight put on her warmest tone.  “Why Blueblood, how generous of you.  You’re offering the deer 50% of all profits from the land in perpetuity?  I must have misjudged you.”

“Let me see that,” he snapped.  Reaching out with his magic he jerked the parchment away from Twilight.  It moved so quickly that the edge sliced across Twilight’s hoof and gave her a paper cut, helped along by the little sharpening spell she had just cast.  Blueblood didn’t noticed, busy as he was scanning the proposal.  “It says nothing of the sort.”

“No?”  Twilight asked.  “I must have been mistaken then.  Uh-oh.”  She gestured with her slightly cut foreleg.  “I am sorry Blueblood.”

Catching sight of the cut Blueblood scoffed.  “What are you babbling about now?  Unless you’re apologizing for sullying my proposal with your common blood.”

“That’s the thing,” Twilight said, struggling to keep the smirk off her face.  “I am currently acting in locum a regina. In other words, by injuring me you have technically injured the crown, the punishment for which is exile or death.”

Blueblood’s white face turned purple with rage.  “How dare you—“

“Oh no, don’t worry,” Twilight soothed.  “I, of course, understand it was an accident and will naturally pass the minimum sentence.  Therefore, you are hereby banished from the court for one week.  You may resubmit your proposal for royal approval at that time.”

Snarling Blueblood took an angry step forward, but the guards were already moving to intercept him.

“How fortunate that the aid mission was an informal agreement or that might have to be delayed as well,” Twilight said brightly.  The guards had reached Blueblood and were having to physically restrain him.  As they began to forcibly escort him from the hall Twilight called after him, “and that aid mission must have departed before you return.  Otherwise your competence will be called into question and I’d have to rethink the proposal and your role in it.”  As Blueblood vanished from sight Twilight let the insultingly bright smile drop from her face.

Sighing, Twilight ran a hoof through her mane.  She turned to Sunlit Rooms, who was currently assisting with the logistics of running the court.  “Please ask the usher to bring in the next petitioner.  Though, if you could give us five minutes I’d really appreciate it.”

“Of course, Archmage.”  With a quick flap of her wings she rose from her seat and headed to the door.

“That was done well,” Luna said, leaning down so they could speak with relative privacy.

“Hmm?” Twilight rolled her shoulders to take the kinks out and rubbed the tiredness from her eyes.  “Oh you mean with Blueblood?  No it really wasn’t.  Resorting to a cheap trick like that to buy time is pretty sloppy.  I must be more tired than I thought.”

Luna’s eyebrows rose. “Indeed?  It appears court has grown more complex than once it was.  Tell me, if you planned to have that knave removed from the court regardless why not simply order it done?”

“I wish I could have but it would have been more trouble than it was worth.  See that group of ponies behind me on your left?”  Facing Luna, Twilight jerked her eyes sideways to indicate them.  The princess’ eyes flicked over and she nodded.  “They’re Blueblood’s collection of nobles.  They control a plurality of votes in the Noble String.”

“The Noble String?  Is that the group of ponies my sister delegated some of her power to?  I tried to learn what I could about government but you can only cram 1000 years into your head so fast,” Luna admitted sheepishly.

“That’s not far off.  They are the body that implements the crown’s policies.”  Twilight’s voice took on a hint of a lecturing cadence as she spoke.  “They can vote on policies to ‘suggest’ to the crown, which are often accepted.  As a collective they also control the largest amount of Equestria’s land and wealth, outside of the crown, which they use to implement approved policies and pressure the crown into accepting policies favorable to their interests.  If I used the crown’s power unwisely they would become inconveniently uncooperative.”  Twilight shrugged.  “Of course, everypony is legally allowed to approach the crown and present a proposal, but a proposal from the Noble String is far harder to ignore.  If Blueblood were a commoner I could simply order him thrown from the court and rip his proposal up without fear of reprisal.  Since he’s a noble I have to be more subtle.”

Sitting back on her throne Luna frowned in thought.  “Before my banishment the only nobles were those that performed a great service to Equestria.  Though the position was hereditary I find it difficult to believe that each noble here is the descendant of a worthy hero.”

“They aren’t all descendants, though they like to claim to be,” said Twilight, smiling slightly.  “Approximately 200 years after your banishment, and as the kingdom grew in size, Princess Celestia found it necessary to delegate more and more power to keep the country running smoothly.  Naturally, the ponies receiving the power and responsibility wanted assurances that they would not simply be disregarded when it suited the princess.  Hence, the checks on the princess’s power built into the system.  It gets even more interesting when you consider—”  Just as Twilight was about to launch into a full blown lecture on the origins of the current political structure, Sunlit Rooms peeked her head into the hall and signaled that the next petitioner was about to be admitted.  “Saved by the bell,” Twilight chuckled.  “I’d be happy to lecture your ears off with ancient history and its implications for governmental structure and policy some other time.”

Nodding, Luna said, “I think I would like that.  There is much that I do not yet understand about this modern Equestria.”

From the front of the hall the herald blew a ringing note on his trumpet and cried in a clear voice.  “Presenting the first heir to the throne of the glorious Griffon Empire and new ambassador extraordinary and plenipotentiary to Equestria, her swiftness, Pinion Gilda.”

It can’t be, thought Twilight.  The doors opened wide and in marched a full flight of griffons.  And there she was, marching at the forefront with all the dignity due the position she evidently held.  The griffon Twilight had so briefly and unpleasantly known.

As Gilda neared Twilight realized it wasn’t dignity that stiffened her footsteps, it was fear.  An entirely appropriate fear, considering she had yelled at and insulted the pony now speaking for the crown to which she had just been named ambassador.  Twilight pondered the best way to approach the situation.  Confronting Gilda with her past actions had its merits, but there was almost certainly a better tact to take.  A small smile crossed Twilight’s face as one particularly fun path occurred to her.

 “Gilda!” she called warmly, completely disregarding propriety as she hopped down from her seat.  Gilda flinched slightly at her voice but Twilight pretended not to notice.  “It’s good to see you again.”  She stepped forward and wrapped her forelegs around Gilda, who was too shocked to resist.   Twilight whispered in the unmoving griffon’s ear, “you owe me or your embassy learns you have already insulted our crown.”  It was a gamble, but a fairly safe one.  She doubted Gilda wanted to have it known how poorly she had behaved around the Equestrian Archmage.

Gilda hesitated and then brought one claw up and awkwardly patted Twilight on the back, whispering in return, “fine, but I want a private meeting with you later to boost my position.”

“Deal.” Twilight broke the hug and stepped back.  “Please introduce me to the rest of your retinue,” she said in a normal tone of voice.

One griffon with grey front plumage, black fur, and light grey wings bristled at being referred to as part of the retinue.  He stepped forward and spoke before Gilda could introduce him.  “My name is Grist, Talon of Warlord Aquila and second in command of the embassy.”

“As I recall, Pinion and Talon refer to diplomatic and military ranks respectively?” Twilight said, mostly for Luna’s benefit as the Princess joined the group.

“Correct,” Grist said.  “Though Pinion and first heir are titles empty of honor.  Warlord Aquila no more needs a successor than does your own princess.”

“Tell me, Talon Grist, what is the greatest victory one can achieve on the battlefield?” asked Princess Luna.

The griffon raised his head proudly and puffed out his chest feathers.  “Where the enemies are all dead and your soldiers all alive.”

Luna shook her head.  “Wrong.  The greatest victory is one in which your enemies strength is added to your own that you may attempt even greater feats.  That is the victory achieved by diplomats, such as your own new ambassador.”

“Pah!” he scoffed.  “More of the friendship nonsense.  As if any force could turn a griffon from an enemy to an ally.”  Twilight caught Gilda’s eye and gave her a significant glance.  Gilda’s eyes narrowed but she turned to her second in command.

“We have come to speak with the ponies, not to fight them,” she said sternly, clearly trying for a tone of command but only partially succeeding.  “You will not belittle their philosophy when it has proven so effective against us in the past.”

He glared at her.  “You too?  I knew you were too young to lead this mission.  As you will one day learn, strength is that which accomplishes its purpose.  Any enemy turned to ally is too weak in their convictions to be a trustworthy ally.”  He snorted.  “I grow weary of this foolishness.  Finish the ceremony and we will return to our embassy.”

Uncertain of what ceremony Grist was referring to Twilight glanced over to Luna who momentarily shared her look of confusion.  Then the princess’s eyes lit up and she signaled to the servants standing by on the edge of the hall.  They must have been expecting it for they immediately came forth with a stream of trays bearing loaves of bread and cups of water.

Luna stood tall and intoned in the Royal Canterlot Voice, “Eat of our bread and drink of our water.  Lay aside your weapons and lower your guard for here we shall be your blade and shield.  Let our walls provide safety and our roof shelter for I extend to you the gift of hospitality.”

At her words each of the griffons ate a piece of bread and drank the water.  As one they replied.  “We accept the gift of hospitality and pledge the peacebond in kind.”

Grist nodded firmly.  “An older form but well spoken.  Thank you Princess of the Night.”  He turned to the other griffons.  “Troops! Form up and move out!”

The griffons leapt obey but before the marching column could reach the door it slammed open and Sunlit Rooms flew in, shouting a warning.  “Ready the guard!  Intruders in the palace!”

Before anypony could react two dragons roared into the hall.

On the left came a shimmering blue dragon, serpentine with long thin limbs and wickedly sharp curving talons, slithering through the air like a snake upon the water.  There was something subtly wrong with its face, though most ponies weren’t paying much attention to subtleties at the moment.  Those few that were paying attention and looked closely at its face found themselves lost in the mechanical and utterly alien androgyny of its features.

On the right strode a tall purple dragoness with a long sinuous neck.  Long pink spines started at the top of her head and ran down along her back to her tail and her belly was a light creamy green.  She moved fluidly, with a grace that belied her tremendous size, for she towered over even Luna in her position at the top of the dais.  The dragons stormed forward, bringing with them the hot stench of sulfur and rusted steel.

“Where is my hatchling?” bellowed the purple dragon.  No pony moved, frozen by ancient instincts in the face of a predator.  With a jolt, the pieces came together as Twilight realized the dragoness who had spoken had eyes that were a very familiar shade of green. “Where is he?” the dragoness called again, stomping nearer to the throne.

The other predators in the room were the first to react.  “Soldiers! Blades out.  Defend out hosts!” Grist commanded.  As one, the griffons folded their wings beneath the opposite sides and drew out their wing blades, sharp lines of steel sheathed under the wing and wielded by attaching them along the edge of the front tip of the wings.  They formed ranks between the throne and the approaching dragons.

It was stupid, since the griffons were approximately as delicious and threatening as chickens to the dragons, but Twilight had to acknowledge their courage.  She thought fast, trying to come up with some way to defuse the situation.  Unfortunately, all she was willing to do was scream he’s mine and order the attack.  And as satisfying as that would have been, somehow it didn’t seem productive.

Meanwhile the dragons had slowed.  Smoke shot through with green flame was beginning to pour from the purple dragon’s mouth and all along its length the blue dragon had begun to glow with baleful light.  Battle was about to break out in the court of the princess and there was nothing Twilight could do to prevent it.

“That is enough!”

Luna thundered out the command and her voice brought night to the afternoon court.  She floated above them all, wings extending from wall to wall.  The great crown of the moon illuminated her face alone in the sudden darkness of the hall.  With the force of the goddess of night and moon and stars she compelled them all to yield.

And yield they did.

The griffons’ weapons dropped from nerveless wings as the prostrated themselves before her.  Nobles, who had held themselves so haughtily so recently, were cowed by the appearance of dragons.  They knelt now in a strange combination of abject terror before the might of the princess and pride that this was their princess.

Like a cobra, the floating blue dragon’s tail fell to the ground and it bent in half, lowering itself before the princess.  Even the rage of the mother dragon was held in abeyance by the power before her and she dipped down and spread her wings in a curtsy.

Twilight did not bow, though it was a near thing.  She recognized the effects of an immortal opening themselves to the magic that was theirs alone, having seen it before from Princess Celestia, though with less intensity.  The lighting, the glamor, the urge to obedience all were natural components of being faced with the raw majesty of an immortal, likely enhanced by plain old illusion.  Knowing the components did not completely obviate their impact, but it was just enough to allow Twilight to fight off the compulsion to kneel.  She could not have said why she was so determined not to bend knee, only that she was.

 Luna swept forward on silent wings and landed facing the two dragons.

“You have disturbed my court.”  Her voice carried an echoing undertone, as if it came from the depths of the space depicted in her mane.  “For that insult I may claim your lives as forfeit.”

She paused, letting the possibility weigh heavy on the dragons’ shoulders.  “But I am not without mercy and you are driven by worthy purpose.  Return in three days’ time with recompense for the insult offered.  If I deem it worthy you, like any of my subjects, may present your petition.”

The blue dragon glanced up and opened its mouth to speak.  Luna held up a hoof to forestall it.  “Nothing you say will improve your position.  Go. Now.  And be grateful I believe in second chances.”  Nodding once the blue dragon gathered its companion with a glance and the two walked out of the hall with much less pride and fanfare than they had entered it.

Turning, Luna faced the griffon regiment.  Almost imperceptibly the hall began to lighten and Luna’s tone of voice, though still regal, no longer held the weight of immortal command.  “Soldiers of the Griffon Empire, you drew weapons in my hall mere moments after swearing peacebond.”

Grist shifted angrily, looking as if he wished to speak but, having learned from the blue dragon’s mistake, he held his tongue.

However, Luna caught the motion and fixed him with her gaze.  “You wish to speak?”  He nodded.  “Then speak freely.”

The old military griffon drew himself up and faced her proudly.  “I gave the order to break the peacebond so recently given.  I will pay any price that no punishment falls upon my soldiers.”

“As it should be,” said Luna approvingly.  She considered for a moment.  “Your duty as a guest under the laws of hospitality was at cross purposes with your peacebond.  You chose to draw weapons and defend your host and for that I cannot fault you.  For your assumption of responsibility I will grant you personally a boon from the crown.”

“I thank you,” he said courteously.  “But I can accept no boon for acting as my conscience dictated.”

“Very well, Talon Grist.  But know that you have earned a measure of my respect this day.  I will have somepony escort you to your embassy and ensure that your needs are looked after.”  Luna looked around and raised her voice to address the rest of the court.  “I believe that that is enough excitement for one day.  Court is dismissed.”

Nobles fled rapidly, gossiping about what they had seen as time turned fear to excitement.  The column of griffons, led by a court functionary, formed up and marched from the hall.  Luna, followed by Twilight Sparkle, left by a door behind the throne.
> Chapter 3: Philosophical Differences
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Luna and Twilight retired to a nearby sitting room the princess of the moon was feeling buoyant.  She had made the court her own, enforced her will and protected her ponies, just like Celestia.  With a grin and a giggle she sank into the plush purple fabric of her favorite seat and began to fashion a cup of tea with a flick of magic.  She caught Twilight’s eye and smiled widely, encouraging the smaller pony to share her happiness.

Twilight smiled back but it held a bitter and brittle edge.  She accepted a cup of tea and sipped it briefly, wrestling with her thoughts.  The tea cup clinked aggressively against the saucer as she set it down and spit out what was eating her.

“Pawns,” she remarked accusingly.  “We’re all just pawns to you aren’t we?  A game to play.”

“What are you talking about?” Luna asked, trying to hold on to her good mood.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice, Luna?” Twilight said scornfully.  “Or no, I suppose you can afford not to.”

“Notice what?” Luna asked, her happiness turning to frustration.  “What is so important that it’s got you angry enough to disrupt the one thing that’s gone well since my sister disappeared?”

“I’m not angry.”  Twilight shook her head, searching for the right word.  “It’s just a bit of… angst, maybe?  I am not used to having my face rubbed in just how powerless I really am.”

“I fear I am missing some rather important context,” Luna said with rising alarm.  “What is it that I should have noticed and what has brought on your foul mood?”

Sighing, Twilight rubbed a foreleg across her eyes.  “Envoys from two different and not entirely friendly countries visited today.  The last official visit from a griffon was three decades ago after a few border skirmishes threatened to ignite a war.  I believe, though the records are fuzzy, that the last time a dragon visited the court in an official capacity was shortly after your banishment, perhaps one hundred years before the Noble String and the court in its current form existed.”

“What are you saying?”  Luna asked slowly.

“Isn’t it obvious?  They’re here because she is not.”

Considering, Luna leaned back and took another sip of her black tea, relishing the strong taste with a hint of sweetness.  “But how would they know that she’s gone?  Her memory spell might have decreased in strength past Equestria’s borders due to sheer distance, but it should still have been powerful enough to alter the relatively weak memories the citizens of other countries would have of her.”

“That’s just it,” Twilight laughed hollowly.  “They don’t know.  But, as immortals, Queen Tiamat of the dragons and Warlord Aquila of the griffons do remember, and they sent envoys to probe for weakness.”

“That makes sense—“Luna began, but Twilight cut her off.

“And when they confront you what do you do?  Do you cleverly divine their motives and turn them aside so subtly that they never realize they’ve been deceived?  No.”

Twilight’s horn glowed briefly.  The room grew dark and she was lit from behind in a cheap mockery of Luna when she had held her immortal magic.  “’I am a great and terrible goddess, bow before me mortals!’ Ha!”  The spell ended and light returned to the room but Twilight still wore a scowl.  “Hay, I had a pony thrown from the court because he accidentally gave me a paper cut while I was speaking in your name.”

“What are you saying, Twilight?”  Luna asked coolly.  “That’d you rather have dealt with the dragons and Blueblood entirely on your own?”

“Yes!  No.  I don’t know.  It’s just, ahh,” she growled, frustrated.  Twilight closed her eyes and breathed in slowly bringing a hoof to her chest.  Letting it flow away from her, she breathed out.  Luna sipped her tea, waiting patiently in the hope that the time would give Twilight the chance to clarify her thoughts.

After a few repetitions Twilight opened her eyes and spoke again in a calmer tone.  “Yesterday it took the combined abilities of an Archmage, a dragon, and the demesne of an immortal for a mortal to even annoy you.  Today, despite your unfamiliarity with the mechanics of the court, you managed to bull your way through and enforce total obedience through sheer power.  It brought home to me how, at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter what I or any other mortal thinks is best.  The will of the immortals undergirds the world.  It seems wrong to me that simple raw power should be so important in determining the course of the lives of everypony.”

As Twilight spoke Luna’s face grew stony and a single image was fixed in her mind.  That of the hall as it had been when she had put forth the power of a goddess, when all had knelt to her, save one.  A voice whispered again in her head: first among mortals, I claimed the title king by right of power.

“How dare you of all ponies complain of powerlessness?” Luna asked, her voice deceptively calm.  “You who just this day spoke with the voice of a ruler and were obeyed.  You who have threatened and fought an immortal and walked away.  If anything, you are closer to an immortal than you are to other mortals.”

Surprised, Twilight replied, “I don’t understand.  Are you praising me?”

“Not at all.”  There was a noticeable chill in the room, as if air and warmth were leaking away to somewhere very dark and cold.  “When all others knelt you did not.  You do not know your place, Twilight Sparkle.  The worst monster this world has ever seen was a mortal that sought to rule and several times over the last few days you have reminded me of him.

“I’m a monster simply because I think the ability to use a special type of magic is entirely unrelated to the skills necessary to wield political power?” Twilight asked incredulously.

Luna stood, her wings spread wide to loom over the smaller pony.  “There are no types to power, Twilight.  There is only power.  We immortals have that innate power and it confers the right to command.

“Your vaunted power has proved nearly useless in running court,” Twilight snarled, leaning forward against Luna’s attempt at intimidation.  “There’s nothing more terrifying than an ignorant pony with power and right now I’d say you fit the bill perfectly.”

“That’s what pieces like you are for.  The impact of ignorance can be alleviated by somepony like you.  But power is unalterable.  You are a powerful piece, yes, but a piece nonetheless and a piece can never become a player.  You will move as I will!”  Luna finished at nearly a shout, her breathing heavy and her eyes flashing with anger.

Twilight sat back and regarded her with horror.  “Princess Celestia has never, and would never speak of any mortal that way.  I don’t know how she could have left us at the mercy of somepony as cruel as you.”

“Ah yes, Princess Celestia,” Luna sneered.  “The one pony you deem worthy of being your superior.  The one pony whose title you consent to use.  Well let me tell you something about my sister.”  It was Luna’s turn now to lean forward across the table and it shook from the trembling of her hooves where they rested on the wood.  “The reason she left is because she values me more that every mortal life combined, even yours.  She knows that, no matter how much she cares for you now, you will be dead and gone one day soon while I will be by her side for all eternity.  That, Twilight, is the bond of power we have that you can never be party to.”

“No!” Twilight slammed her hooves down.  Her tea cup crashed to the floor and shattered, spilling liquid across the floor while she glared at Luna, her body quivering with rage.  “Princess Celestia loves us all.  She wouldn’t abandon any of her subjects.  She wouldn’t abandon me!”

“Well, well,” Luna spat back.  “It seems we’ve found where your respect for your betters has gone.  All wrapped up in your obsession with my sister.”

Opening her mouth to reply, Twilight was caught by surprise as the door opened.  Both she and Luna turned to stare at the pony that would dare intrude.  Sunlit Rooms wilted under their fierce gazes and very nearly backed right out of the room.  A secretary of the royal court had to be made of sterner stuff, though, so she mustered her courage and entered the room.

“You asked that I notify you 15 minutes before your meeting with the treasury ministers, Archmage,” she said hesitantly.  “And the records of the court for the past month have been brought to your study as you requested, Princess Luna.”

Tensions hung in the air as Twilight and Luna eyed one another.  For a moment nopony spoke.  Then Twilight’s compulsive need not to be tardy kicked in and she sighed and dropped her gaze.  “Thank you Ms. Rooms.  Let’s go.  We shouldn’t keep anypony waiting.”  With a deliberate lack of a farewell to Luna, Twilight turned and headed for the exit.

Before she could reach it, Sunlit’s voice brought Twilight to a halt, though she did not turn around.  “For what it’s worth,” Sunlight said, looking surprised at her own daring, “I think you two complemented each other well today in court.  I can hardly remember another day when it ran as smoothly, especially considering all of the unexpected visitors.”  When she was met with stony silence on all sides she shrank back into herself.   “It was just a thought,” she mumbled.

Though neither could see the other, both Twilight and Luna opened their mouths to speak, searching for the right words to say.  In Twilight the desire for reconciliation warred with a need to make her point and the selfish wish to snap back and wound Luna as Luna’s barbs about Princess Celestia had wounded her.

For Luna, the pain of her own insecurity drove her both to beat Twilight down and to offer the balm of acceptance in the hope that it would be returned.  Ultimately, neither pony spoke. Twilight strode from the room in silence, Sunlit Rooms fast on her heels. Luna was left alone with her thoughts.


***


There are certain moments in Equestrian history that have been immortalized in legend from the sheer discomfort everypony feels upon hearing about them for the first time.  Included in this august list is the time a pony put on a puppet show for Princess Celestia recounting her triumphant banishment of Nightmare Moon the day after that event had taken place.  Another time, the Griffon’s invited the ponies for a feast to celebrate the return of peace after one of the many conflicts between their peoples.  Upon arriving, the ponies discovered that the feast was in the form of a traditional ancient Griffon meal referred to as a “Barb E Q” that consisted solely of meat.  And who could forget the way they cringed upon hearing the story of a young student of magic who inadvertently shaved his mentor, Starswirl the Bearded.  Upon being caught the young student had promptly stuck the remains of the beard to his own face and attempted to convince his furious mentor that it was in fact opposite day.

All present at court the following morning knew immediately that it was destined to become another such moment.

Perhaps both ponies had been unwilling to shirk their duties or perhaps both had expected the other to shirk and felt that somepony with authority had to be there.  Whatever the case, both Twilight and Luna had shown up to the court. They each were too stubborn to leave and concede that small victory to the other.  They had also refused to reconcile or, indeed, even acknowledge the others presence and so a certain frostiness hung over the proceedings of the court, leading more than one pony to shiver as they stepped forth to deliver their petition to the throne.

Sunlit Rooms, that brave and foolish pony, had set up a small folding chair between Luna’s throne at the top of the royal dais and Twilight’s regent’s throne, one step below.  Her eyes darted back and forth as she tried to play peacemaker and fulfill the role of assistant for two ponies that were attempting to simultaneously run court without cooperating in the slightest.

Through trial and error, Twilight and Luna had come up with a system for answering the petitions.  Whichever of the two spoke to the petitioner first was responsible for answering that petition and the other would spend the time staring out the windows or sighing in an aggrieved manner until the issue had been dealt with and the next petitioner approached.

Fortunately for all concerned, word quickly spread that the court was the place not to be at the moment and as swift as the rumor spread the nobility all found it fashionable to find reason to be elsewhere.  As a result, only a handful of petitioners were bold or desperate enough to brave the icy atmosphere of the court and everypony breathed a sigh of relief as the court quickly wound down.

It was into this cold atmosphere that Gilda walked, intent on demanding the personal audience Twilight had promised.  Before she could speak Twilight spotted an opportunity to get away and jumped on it.

“Gilda, thanks for dropping by,” she gushed, rising from her chair and walking toward the griffon. “I can’t wait to show you around Canterlot.”

“That’s not why I—“Gilda began.

“Oh don’t worry, I’m sure the court can get along fine without me.  After all, I’m just seeing to it that the Griffon ambassador is treated properly.”  Reaching Gilda Twilight slung a foreleg around her shoulders and started essentially dragging the griffon outside, chattering all the while.  “I’m sure you’ll just love some of the restaurants.  Canterlot is a global city after all and we even have meat dishes in the fashion of griffon cuisine.”

The griffon opened her mouth to protest.  Before she could do so she caught sight of Princess Luna’s tight expression and caught the tension in Twilight’s speech.  Like a hawk hiding from a dragon’s shadow, Gilda decided discretion was the better part of valor.  She swallowed her protest and allowed Twilight to lead her from the hall, chattering inanely all the while.

Once outside Twilight let out a sigh of relief and stopped her patter.  “Sorry about that.  Luna and I have a few philosophical differences that turned out to be problematic.”

 “Ha, you too?”  Gilda chuckled.  “There is a time honored tradition for when you have a fight with your immortal mentor.  Come on, let’s go find some cider.”

“Gilda! It’s not even noon yet,” Twilight said, half scandalized by the suggestion.

Gilda shrugged.  “Haven’t you ever heard the expression ‘it’s five o’clock somewhere’?”

“Sounds like you have a fun plan there.”  Spike had been coming to meet Twilight at the end of court and had nearly bumped right into them.  “Mind if I tag along?”

“Absolutely not,” Twilight said firmly.  “You are much too young.”

“Uh, Twilight?  Dragon remember?”  He tapped his scales.  “I literally eat rocks, I’m pretty sure cider wouldn’t do anything to me.”

“Then there isn’t any point in you having any, is there?”  Gilda asked reasonably.  “Come on Twilight, point the way to the best batch of cider in the city.  I’ve heard good things about the Apple-family brand, if you can find it.”

As they walked away they could just hear Spike mutter, “Darn, I wanted to see if cider really does burn blue.

“Whoa, hold up.”  Gilda turned and walked back to Spike.  “You were planning on trying to set cider on fire?”

“Uh, yes?”

“And you can breathe fire?”

“Yes.”

“You’re in.” Gilda looked over at Twilight.  “He’s in.  Now let’s go!”  She scampered down the hall, wiggling like a playful kitten.  Spike whooped and ran after her.

“But he’s… you… arghh!” Twilight groaned and threw her legs up in the air.  “Fine, I don’t even care anymore. Let’s go see what we can find.”


***


It had turned out that even in Canterlot, and even for the Archmage, it was hard to find places willing to serve cider before noon.  Instead, Twilight and Spike found themselves playing tour guide while showing Gilda around the city.

For her part, Gilda decided to pretend that she was on a reconnaissance mission and, as such, shamelessly enjoyed the tour.  In turn, she shared details of life in the Griffon Empire with the rationale that it would make them trust her more.  Twilight, of course, loved learning about another culture and Spike, in true adolescent male fashion, enjoyed stories about the martial nature of griffon culture.

After a long day touring they had settled into dinner and drinks at an old favorite of Spike and Twilight.  Dinner passed in a haze of pleasant conversation and the party was feeling reenergized when they emerged into the refreshingly cool night air.  Twilight especially was feeling better than she had in quite a while. Struck by a sudden thought she led the group away from the lights of the city and around the back of the castle.  There they embarked on a dark path leading up the face of the Canterhorn, the mountain on which Canterlot was perched.

One question had tickled her curiosity during the day and so, spurred on by the confidence that comes from conversations in the dark, she finally brought it up as they climbed.

“Hey Gilda?”

“Yeah?”

Twilight glanced over her shoulder at the griffon as she spoke.  “You’re acting pretty differently.  Last time we met you were kind of…” she trailed off.

“Mean?” Gilda finished, chuckling.  “Yeah I guess I was, from your perspective.  You wondering what was up with that?”

 “Mhmm.  Ah, watch your footing there you two, it’s a bit slippery,” she said, indicating a wet patch of stone.  She rolled her eyes as both Gilda and Spike promptly ran across the slick rock at full speed.

Reaching the end they cried “Talons rule!” and high-fived.

 The two tried to keep walking but Twilight grabbed Spike’s ear/scale.  “You listen here mister.  Gilda can get away with that because if she falls she has wings to catch herself.  You, on the other hand do not.  I will be very annoyed if I have to jump off this cliff after you, understand?”

“Yes, Twilight,” he replied in a tone familiar to anypony that has ever had to supervise a child.  “You just wait ‘til my wings grow in.  I’ll never have to touch the ground again,” he muttered under his breath.

Satisfied despite the muttering, Twilight let him go and the three continued their ascent.  “So, last time?” Twilight prompted Gilda to continue.

“Right.  Well remember how I explained that strength is the most important attribute for a griffon to possess?”  Twilight and Spike nodded.  It hadn’t been a surprise to learn a militaristic culture placed a high value on personal strength.  “I became friends with Rainbow Dash because she was the strongest flier at the flight program.  The rainboom especially convinced me that she was formidable, a worthy friend to a scion of the griffon royal family.  And when I came to renew that old friendship to lay the groundwork for my eventual diplomatic mission to Equestria, what did I find?”

“You found us.  I still don’t see why that was a problem.”  Twilight cocked her head.  “Did you think that she had replaced you, or something?”

“Not exactly.”  Gilda frowned, searching for the right words.  “It’s more like I thought she had fallen in with the wrong crowd.  Bad influences, you know?”

Surprised, Twilight looked back, though she was barely able to make out the shape of the griffon in the darkness.  “You thought we were a bad influence on Rainbow Dash?  Really?  Have you met Dash?  I love her dearly but I’m pretty sure even Spike is a good influence on her”

“Oh thanks a lot Twilight,” Spike grumbled.

“Bad influence might be the wrong word.”  Gilda’s beak clicked as she thought, a nervous habit.  “She’s a strong pony and she was friends with weak ponies, to a Griffon that’s somewhere between foolish and morally wrong.  At camp I knew she was friends with Fluttershy but since we didn’t like Dash for the same reasons we never really saw each other.  In Ponyville I met Pinkie, who’s just bizarre, and Fluttershy, who’s probably the weakest pony there is, in quick succession.  So my opinion of the strength of Dash’s friends was not very high.”

“Fluttershy faced down a dragon you known,” Twilight remarked almost casually.

Gilda scoffed. “Spike might be cool but telling him to go to bed hardly counts as facing down a dragon.”

“Ouch again,” Spike complained.  “I swear, I don’t get no respect.”

“Not Spike,” said Twilight.  “A fully grown dragon.  Probably a hundred times her size.  There she was, tiny pony about the size of its eyeball and terrified of dragons to boot.  But she flew right up in its face and stared it straight in the eye.  It backed down and did what she said.”

“Huh.”  Unseen in the darkness Gilda’s face took on a considering look.  “Well I guess that makes two of Dash’s friends that are more formidable than they appear.”

“Two?” Twilight asked.

“You of course,” Gilda laughed.  “I have to say, I doubt anyone expected for you to complete your magical training with the Princess in traditional Griffon style but it was pretty darn impressive.”  She paused for a moment.  “Speaking of which, don’t you need to magic up a light?  I’ve got nocturnal vision but I didn’t think ponies or dragons did.”

Spike laughed.  “Hardly.  Those cuts you feel in the rock?  Those are from my talons.  I couldn’t even begin to guess how many times we’ve walked this path.”

“943 times,” Twilight chirped.

“Of course she knows.”  Spike face palmed.   “You see what I have to put up with?  She counts everything, absolutely everything.  Want to know how many times she’s eaten muffins on a Monday?  I bet she can tell you.”

“Spike it’s not polite to make fun of ponies for their little neuroses,” Twilight chided.  “And to answer your question, it’s 103 times but only because of the Monday muffin special at Donut Joes.”

“Twilighhhhttttt,” Spike whined, dragging the name out.  Then the both laughed and she reached back and ruffled his head spike affectionately.

As he broke away Twilight asked Gilda, “what did you mean I graduated in traditional griffon style?”

“You don’t know?  Ah, right I guess you wouldn’t, not being a griffon and all.”  She rubbed the back of her head with a wing.  “When a griffon thinks she’s done with her apprenticeship she challenges her teacher to single combat.  If she wins then she graduates and they can work together as equals.  It’s not the only way of course, but it is considered more traditional than say, completing a quest or something like that.”

Twilight gasped.  “So when I walked into court and shouted at Luna…”

Gilda chuckled.  “Yep.  For a griffon that was the final exam.  I was pretty impressed when I heard.  None of Warlord Aquila’s students, including me, have had the guts to try and graduate that way for generations.”

“It wasn’t really meant to be a graduation,” Twilight said slowly.

“Yeah I kinda noticed that back at the court.  Still, it was close enough for me--” Gilda broke off, stunned as they finally crested the top of the mountain.  She started to get an inkling of why Spike and Twilight might have made the climb so many times.

Before the climbers stretched a meadow of softly rustling grass.  Pale moonflowers dotted the landscape and leant a sweet scent to the gentle night air.  A small creek flowed around the edges of the meadow and off the side of the mountain opposite the stairs.  Set to one side was a small round building with a domed roof.  All in all the meadow was idyllic and peaceful.

The night sky was not.

They had climbed to nigh on the highest point in Equestria and the cliffs on the path they had taken blotted out the light pollution of Canterlot.  Above, the stars were brilliant diamonds woven into a velvet darkness.  No gentle twinkle from these stars.  Instead they blazed with light, lending a lurid glow to the new moon night.  So close were the stars that it was possible to see the arch of the firmament, to see the great dome that encompassed all lands.

“Someday,” Twilight whispered, in a tone that was half prayer half fervent declaration.  “Someday I will find out what’s past the stars.  Someday I will traverse the firmament, bypass the great dome of heaven and learn the last secrets of the world.”

Spike put a claw on her shoulder.  “We will.”  She leaned into his comforting touch but did not speak.

“Surely,” Gilda said hesitantly, almost embarrassed to intrude.  “Surely the Princess has told you of what, if anything, is out there.”

Twilight shook her head her head like a dog shaking off water.  “Sorry, that came out of nowhere to you, I suppose.  This meadow always does that to me.  I come here for stargazing and astronomy in part.”  She nodded over at the small observatory.  “But also to remind myself that there are things I will have to discover for myself, that not all mysteries have been answered, even by the immortals.”

Twilight reached a foreleg up, as if trying to grasp the brightest stars and bring them close.  “You see, I asked her once.  I wanted to know if I sought in vain for unknown knowledge.  She told me that magic, all forms of magic, are tied to the outside of the world, in part through the lights placed on the great dome.  If she were to attempt to move past those lights she might be left bereft of magic itself, and so unable to survive whatever is out there.  At least that was what she thought.  She said she’d never dared try it herself.”

“And you think that you could survive where she wasn’t even willing to try?” Gilda asked, still staring at the view above.

“Though my soul may set in darkness it will rise in perfect light/ I have loved the stars too fiercely to be fearful of the night,” Twilight recited, smiling fondly.  “Do you know what I think when I look up at the stars?”

Gilda shook her head but Twilight had not even looked over for a response.  She continued to speak as if in a trance.

“I think how large we all are.  How large everypony is in comparison with the world.”  She stretched her hooves wide encompassing all the world.  “The sheet of rock and water upon which the countries sit, the flames below, the sky above, and the firmament capping it all off.  Containing and constraining all that is.  It feels so claustrophobic, as if I might hit the edges of the world if I stretch too widely.”

She reached farther still, pushing off walls on either side that only she could see.  Without support she tumbled over her head and came to rest on her back with a sigh, face up to the sky.  Spike and Gilda joined her, lying on their backs in the soft grass and gazing up at the stars.

“I like to imagine that the stars are more than just points of light magically attached to a the firmament,” Twilight confided.  “Maybe they’re holes that the princesses rearrange.  Holes that let in the light of a brilliantly shining universe we can’t even imagine.” Gilda frowned at the plural of princesses but Twilight didn’t even notice the slip.

“Growing up with you, Twilight, I know this is unscientific,” Spike began, “but I always liked to imagine that the stars were dragons.  You told me that dragons just keep growing and aging unless they’re killed, but that for some reason they disappear once they reach a certain age.  I thought that they might climb upwards and breathe their fire down to light the world at night.”

“That’s a nice thought,” Twilight said, trying and ultimately failing to hold herself back.  “But that wouldn’t explain how Luna moves them—“

“I know,” he said hurriedly.  “It’s nice to have a story to tell myself though.”

“A story huh,” Twilight mused.  She twisted around so she could see Gilda’s face.  “Do griffons have stories about the stars?”

“Not really,” Gilda said offhandedly.  “Our necks don’t bend upwards so to see the stars we have to lie on our wings, which both exposes our vulnerable points and leaves us unable to fly.  Unsurprisingly, most griffons don’t like to do that so we really don’t see the stars that often.”

Gilda’s tone grew softer and more thoughtful.  “Though once, when I was just a cub, Warlord Aquila took me flying at night.  To practice navigating in the dark, he said.  And at the end of the lesson we lay on a cloud and looked up at the sky.  He told me that when the great warrior griffons of the past died, their souls went to the night princess and she used their light to paint the sky.”  A fond smile colored her words as she spoke and she reached out a claw to point directly overhead.  “He pointed at the North Star and said that it had been his first friend, long ago when the world was young, and that they had gone on many adventures together.”

“You must be close.”

“Kind of.  I’m his daughter after all.”  The griffon sighed.  “And yet not really.  It’s hard to be close to an immortal.  Warlord Aquila controls the wind after all.  If he ceased his duty the air would grow still and stale and we would all die, ponies, griffons, dragons, even the plants and voiceless animals.  How can you be close to somegriffon like that?”

“I know what you mean.  There’s such a distance between us.  I feel like I’ve spent my whole life trying to catch up to her,” Twilight said sadly.

“Why do you want to close the distance?” Gilda asked, sounding genuinely confused.  “The immortals are due our awe, not our friendship.  The wind is home to a griffon.  It comforts and sustains us, empowers us when we are weak, and shelters us when we are destitute.”  She chuckled again.  “Dash understands that.  She would make a pretty good griffon I think.  Warlord Aquila is the source of our home, the soul of our people.  He is our god.  You don’t make friends with a god.  You worship him.”

“But he’s your father, isn’t he?  How can you worship your father?”

Gilda sighed.  “I was raised by my mother.  There were lessons with him on occasion, like that time I told you about, but he so rarely lowered his guard or offered any companionship.  He was always… distant.  But then you should know all about that.  I recall hearing you were raised in the castle.  Wasn’t living with the princess the same?”

“Not at all.”  Twilight shook her head vehemently.  “The princess became my surrogate parent when she took me under her wing.  I first attended court peeking shyly out from under her wing.  We’d have dinner together every night, just the three of us, and she’d listen to us chatter on about our day.”  She sniffed and reached out and hugged Spike to her.  “I – I miss her. I really really miss her.”

“Isn’t she down there in the castle right now?” Gilda asked slowly.

“It’s complicated,” Spike said when Twilight failed answer.  “We’ve been forced to see the princess in a different light these past few days.  Things have been hard.”  Gilda nodded in empathy, if not in understanding.

Meanwhile, stirrings of guilt threaded their tendrils through the longing for Princess Celestia that consumed Twilight’s heart.  There was, after all, a princess in Canterlot.  One who had also lost somepony they considered a family member.  And how had Twilight acted toward Luna when both of them were in the midst of their shared loss?  She had lashed out, accused Luna of succumbing again to her darkest self, and thrown that most painful memory in her face.

Luna had forgiven her for that, which was itself remarkable.  She had been realistic in understanding that she was in over her head and willing to accept Twilight’s help immediately afterward.  Then, when the sudden appearance of the dragons had put Twilight on the back hoof, Luna had happily leapt to cover for her.  She’d been so proud of herself, Twilight recalled.  That smile and giggle when they’d first left court was the first unfettered expression of joy Twilight could recall from the other pony since returning from her banishment.

And Twilight had taken that away from her.  Over what?  A momentary fit of pique at not being important enough?

Distantly, she heard Gilda start to speak again.  “I still don’t understand.  The stars you love so much that you wore out a mountain path walking to see them were placed there by your princess.  Even if you are close, how can you not worship her?”

Breaking away from Gilda’s gaze she looked upwards again.  As always comfort flowed down from the heavenly lights.  Behind the lights, though, there seemed to be a dark blue face looking down on her.  A newly familiar face and one she would have worshiped, if only it stood for day instead of night.

Gilda’s question had cut through to the heart of her confusion.  Her mind turned over the moments she’d spent with Luna, reconsidering the role she’d played and the actions she’d taken.  Twilight sat up and let her eyes drop towards the horizon.  “I-I just don’t know. Perhaps—“ she broke off, stunned by the sight before her.  Spike and Gilda turned to look and they too starred openmouthed.

Far, far to the north, where there should have been only the tundra, a great beam of light rose.  Bright as the sun it was, and shimmering with the colors of the rainbow. For a moment Twilight wondered if somepony else had used the Elements of Harmony.  But no, the light reached a peak and flared out across Equestria, bringing the light of the noonday sun to midnight.

As the shockwave washed over the top of the Canterhorn Twilight opened herself to the magic and found it utterly unlike anything she had ever known.  There was power in it, obviously, and a regular structure reminiscent of a crystal.  And it yet beneath that rigidity there was an alien wildness to it, a strangeness for which Twilight could think of only one explanation.

Immortal magic shone forth in the frozen north.

Twilight’s thoughts turned immediately to Princess Celestia.  Could this be her magic, somehow set loose?  It was unlikely.  The feel of Celestia’s magic was as familiar to Twilight as the warmth of Spike’s fire.  There were similarities in the feel of the two magics, to be sure, but this new light was foreign to her.  And that raised even more questions that did not have an answer on the peak of the Canterhorn.

She gathered Spike and Gilda closer for an urgent teleport and held up a hoof to forestall their questions.  “I don’t know.  I don’t know what that light is or what caused it.  I don’t know if I worship Luna for her stars or even if I should.   But right now I’m want nothing so much as to talk with her.  I guess that’s a start.”  Not waiting for a response, she channeled her magic and the dragon, the griffon, and the Archmage disappeared.

The meadow they had left behind still blazed with the fey light of the gods pouring out in a far off wasteland.
> Chapter 4: An Idea Takes Root
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

With mixed feelings Luna watched Twilight leave the court alongside the griffon ambassador.  On the one hoof it was a pleasure to feel a lessening of the tension that had plagued the court since its beginning earlier that morning.  On the other, a feeling of dissatisfaction still lingered within her, as though there were words between them left unsaid.

Still, she thought, as Sunlit Rooms led her to a sitting room for her after court tea, I was not wrong in what I said to Twilight.  Though perhaps I was overly harsh considering how helpful she has been in this trying time.  But she should know her place.  Success always follows from obedience to us immortals.  That is their purpose and never has a country succeeded that went against our will.

Sweet smelling steam filled the comfortable chamber as Sunlit bustled around preparing tea, a soft lemon blend to fortify the drinker for the afternoon.  Luna felt her muscles relax at the scent and allowed her thoughts to drift as they would.  Or no, wait.  I remember hearing about one group of ponies that struck out on their own long ago.  What did they call themselves?  Ah yes.

“Thank you Ms. Rooms,” Luna said aloud as the pegasus placed the teacup on the table before her.  “Would you kindly go down to the archives and request that they send up a book for me?”

Sunlit dipped her wings in a bow.  “Of course, princess.  A tale of friendship, perhaps?  An account Starswirl the Bearded and the great feats he performed in your name?”

“Actually, I desire a historical account.  Tell them to find me a reference on the Ancient Atheneighians.”  Luna took a sip of tea as Sunlit made to depart.  “Just an overview, please,” she called after her.  “I don’t have the time to embark on a proper research mission.”

“Understood,” Sunlit acknowledged as she departed on her errand.

Sighing, Luna leaned back into her chair and drank deeply from her tea, letting the sweetness roll across her tongue.  Perhaps this will improve my disposition.

The Princess of Night’s thoughts turned again to the problematic purple pony.  Now that I think on it, Twilight has, in fact, not been all that helpful.  She aided me in that second court, but that was the sole action that would normally be considered helpful.  And her first action was to attack me in front of the court and lead me on a chase through the depths of the castle.

Luna smiled wryly.  To be fair, considering how I was feeling when she challenged me, it was more like an excuse for playful roughhousing than an actual attack.  I suppose I should give her credit for that, even if it was unintentional.  And it is reassuring to have another pony that remembers my sister.

She shivered despite the warmth of the room.  I have had enough truck with true madness, I’ve no desire to suffer gaslighting on the subject of my sister’s existence. I owe Twilight for reassuring me of my sanity, at the very least.  Her ideas are intriguing, even if they are wrong, and I think we could get along if only she did not remind me so much of Sombra.  That anger of hers I saw the first day, the obsession with Celestia, it’s worrying.  It doesn’t mesh with the way Celestia described her student.

As Luna mused a royal guard respectfully poked his head in the door.  “Pardon your highness but Duke Fancypants has requested a casual audience with you.”

“What—who?” Luna glanced up, startled.

Unflappable the guard replied, “An audience, your highness, with Duke Fancypants.”  From his tone one received the impression that, should Luna continue asking the question, he would continue replying in exactly the same way for as long as it took.

Fortunately for him, Luna pulled her mind back from the woolgathering.  “Right, send him in,” she said, stretching for a suitably royal voice.

“Very good your highness.”  Though his words were as free of inflection as ever, Luna couldn’t help but think that he had chosen that specific form of acknowledgment as a subtle bit of mockery.

Impudently, she stuck her tongue out at the guards retreating back.  Thus, the first sight that greeted Duke Fancypants as he walked in was his ruler sticking her tongue out and making a funny face.  Embarrassed, she dropped her gaze to the floor and schooled her features.

When she glanced upwards she found that Duke Fancypants had abandoned his dignity and promptly stuck out his tongue back at her.  Catching her eye he broke into a deep belly laugh.  “I must say your highness, I think this new greeting is a capital idea.  Why I suspect the whole court would be vastly improved if it were standard operating procedure.”

Laughing along, Luna gestured to the seat beside her.  “It’s a pleasure to meet— see you again Fancypants.  Let me get you some tea.”

“Oh I couldn’t let the princess serve me,” he protested as he seated himself.

“Nonsense.”  With a quick application of telekinesis and a small heating spell a gently steaming cup of tea was settled before the good duke.  “Now what brings you by?”

“Well, I am given to understand that I have you to thank for having an aid mission dumped on my withers.”  He took a cautious sip of the tea.  “Oh I say, that’s rather nice.”

“What do you mean?” Luna asked.

“Blueblood wouldn’t know the first thing about how to put together an aid mission, but he knew that if he failed your Archmage would be all over him.”  Fancypants’ tone took a turn for the smug.  “It cost him quite a few favors to be rid of it, you know.”

“In that case, you are welcome, and I’ll be sure to find a good use for the favor you then owe me” Luna shot back.

“Princess you know I would do anything for my esteemed ruler.  Therefore, it is very insulting to imply I might owe you a favor when I am yours to command.  In fact, I believe you owe me a favor for the insult you have tended my honor.”  Fancypants parried.

“A Duke such as yourself could not be so fragile as to take offense from a statement of fact.  Surely your honor instead demands that you err on the chivalrous side of debt rather than forcing your princess to shoulder it.”  Luna was grinning unabashedly now.  This was the part of court she had enjoyed all those years ago, the witty banter back and forth with the few that dared brave the Night Court.  Not the endless rules-lawyering that characterized the court Celestia had made and in which Twilight flourished.

Fancypants met her grin with and answering smile.  “So be it.  I will shoulder this burden for your majesty, I conceded the round to you.”  It was remarkably difficult to bow while seated but Fancypants was nothing if not an accomplished courtier and he made it look elegant.

For a moment Luna preened under the acknowledgement of victory.  Then the possibility crossed her mind that he had purposely lost as a demonstration of his superior magnanimity.  She peered at him closely trying to discern if that was the case.  His enigmatic smile gave nothing away.

Setting the game aside Luna turned to more serious matters.  “You will perform this duty well, yes?  I would hate for an equinitarian mission to go awry.”

Sobering as well, he nodded.  “I will see to it that the best aid we can offer will be sent to the deer.  Though I do hope I’m not sending aid to what will shortly be an annexed people.”

“Blueblood’s proposal?” Luna asked.  “Fear not, I promise that I will not allow it to come to fruition as it stands.”

“The promises of a princess are a dependable thing indeed,” he said carefully.  “But if you might share some specifics it would further put my heart at ease.”

“I have set Twilight Sparkle to that task,” Luna said, fudging the truth only slightly.  “You will have to speak with her to determine the course of action she has chosen.”

The Duke frowned and seemed about to question her further when the door opened and Sunlit Rooms returned, bearing a weighty tome.  “I have brought the history of the Ancient Atheneighians, as you requested your highness.”

“Excellent, thank you Ms. Rooms.  Please set it down over there,” said Luna, indicating the table.  Sunlit Rooms deposited the book with a heavy thunk and stood at the ready in case her services should be needed further.

“Odd to see somepony as old as you reading history,” commented Fancypants, peering over the table at the book.

“Twilight Sparkle and I had a disagreement.”  Luna flipped open the book and began scanning it absent mindedly.  “I felt the need for further research to clarify the issue.”

“I doubt that my own poor council can add to the wisdom of the princess or the Archmage.”  Fancypants spoke without a trace of sarcasm or irony all the more impressive for the obvious falsehood of his statement.  “So if your highness has no further need of me, I shall take my leave.”  He stood and made to depart.

“Wait,” Luna commanded, raising her eyes from the book.  “Now that I think of it the perspective of a member of the Noble String might be valuable on this topic.”

“Oh?”  Fancypants raised an eyebrow in surprise but settled back into his seat.  “My brain, such as it is, is at your disposal, princess.”

 “Twilight and I were discussing immortal involvement in the lives of mortals.  I put forward the position that political power naturally flows from the overwhelming magical power possessed by us immortals.  She,” and here Luna could not refrain from putting an angry inflection on the pronoun, “believed that mortal ponies should have a right to control their own lives because an immortal’s power does not necessarily convey the capacity to govern wisely.”

Luna let out an undignified snort.  “As if Blueblood did not put the lie to the belief that mortals know how to govern themselves every time he appears before the court. What do you think, Duke Fancypants?  You may speak freely, I will not be angry even if you don’t take my side.”

“An interesting question.  It is reassuring to know that even the princess and Archmage occasionally consider the rationale behind the power they hold.  Give me a moment to think about it, please.”  Fancypants quietly sipped his tea and let his gaze wander while he thought.  Luna waited anxiously for his response.  She had hoped he would agree with her immediately, though she had enough self-respect to want his sincere opinion rather than a pleasant lie.

Finally, his gaze focused and he spoke.  “I would argue that the members of the Noble String already do wield power,” he replied seriously.  “We are fortunate enough to have resources that can influence you.”  He held up a hoof to forestall her protest.  “True, you could overrule us, but our control over the economy and shared responsibility for the military mean you and the rest of Equestria would face serious consequences unless you were willing to completely dissolve the mortal Equestrian government.  We are, in many ways, a rare exception to the traditional one-sided power dynamic between mortals and immortals.  An ordinary pony might give you a different answer.”

Luna hummed thoughtfully.  “Hmm, perhaps.”  She turned to Sunlit Rooms.  “Ms. Rooms, I’m sure you have been listening.  For the purposes of this conversation you are closer to an ordinary pony than either of us, what do you think?”

Sunlit Rooms looked like a mouse that had just stumbled upon a snake. “Me your highness?  You want my opinion?”  She made a visible effort to gather her courage.  “Well, I um, I think that Duke Fancypants is correct in saying that ponies already have control over their own lives, but I think he’s incorrect about which ponies that is.”  The other two gave her confused looks so she searched for the words to explain further.  “If you think about it, the Noble String already interacts with you, Princess Luna, very often.  You often give them commands that they have to follow, like with that aid mission.  If anypony has their lives controlled by an immortal it’s them.  Most ordinary ponies will never meet you so you have few opportunity to order them around.  Your decisions through the court affect them, of course, but as long as you don’t make drastic changes most ponies will go about their lives never having been ordered or controlled by you at all.”

“Interesting,” Luna mused.  “Between the four of us there are four opinions, though the both of yours are rather similar.”

“If I may, Princess,” Sunlit Rooms spoke hesitantly.  “I think your opinion and the Archmage’s are similar as well.  From the way you described the argument it sounds as though you both place yourselves on the side of power.  You just disagree on how much power you each should wield.  I can’t imagine the Archmage was actually suggesting that you listen to the nobles more.”  She offered a shy smile.  “Her opinion of the nobles is well known, present company excluded.  Perhaps the two of you are more similar to one another than either of you is to an ordinary pony such as myself, or even a noble like Duke Fancypants.”

The Duke nodded his agreement.  “Yes.  The Archmage has defeated Discord and the monster of the Everfree with the Elements of Harmony.”  Luna assumed that the ‘monster of the Everfree’ was what the Nightmare had become after Celestia had cast her memory spells.  Fancypants continued, “That’s why it is a pity to see the two of you in disagreement, though I suppose that goes to show you how close you are.  One does not feud with one’s inferiors, after all.”

“You have the right of it,” Luna conceded.  “But a mortal of similar standing with an immortal is itself a source of concern.  It has caused catastrophic damage in the past.  Ah no,” she said in response to their worried looks.  “That, at least, I can say with confidence is my worry, and should it become a problem it will be my responsibility to deal with it.”

“If you say so Princess.”

“I do, Ms. Rooms.”  Luna stood and tucked her book on the Ancient Atheneighians under one wing.  “You have both been most helpful.”

Catching the cue to leave, Duke Fancypants and Sunlit Rooms stood as well.  “I’ll send word once the aid mission has departed.  A pleasure as always, your highness.”  With a final bow Duke Fancypants made his exit.

Lost in thought, Luna walked the path to her study.  Sunlit Rooms followed along behind because her office, at least since Celestia had disappeared, was a small offset just outside of Luna’s study.  Well trained in the moods of a princess she recognized the other’s desire for quiet consideration and the walk was silent save for the clip-clop of their hooves on the castle’s stone floor.


***


Yawning widely, Luna set the book down.  The Ancient Atheneighians had been a fascinating people.  They had a form of government they called “democracy”, wherein each citizen could vote directly on the laws that governed them.  Every citizen could make their opinion known but no one opinion dominated the others, as hers and Celestia’s did in the Diarchy.

It would never work in Equestria, of course, the country was far too large to poll everypony prior to any decision.  Still, Luna had begun to see that there might be some value in allowing the common pony to have some say in the rules that governed their lives.  When she imagined a pony such as, say, Sunlit Rooms, having some sway in the government it didn’t seem so bad.

Luna had spent the first part of the afternoon skimming the text, and as she had done so an idea had begun to form.  It was one of those ideas which seemed mad at first blush, but simply wouldn’t be dismissed out of hoof.  So she had gone back over the book, quill and paper in hand, taking notes on the relevant passages and bits of history.

Now the waning light reminded the princess that is was time for her to raise the moon.  And set the sun, as she had nearly forgotten.  Only a few days had passed since the burden had fallen on her and it had not yet become routine.  Neither had it ceased to cause a twinge of pain as the princess extended her control over her sister’s charge.

She let the familiar mantle of the moon wash over her and then gently reached out and pulled the mantle of the sun around her.  The sun was not hers, and reaching out to it felt like being cradled in the warm embrace of her sister’s wings, comforting and yet agonizing in the reminder of Tia’s absence.  Luna spared herself a moment to enjoy the comfortable side of the feeling, to indulge in the fantasy that her sister had returned and was going to make everything okay.

Sighing, she let that pleasant thought fall away.  Truly, she did wish to assume her rightful responsibilities as co-ruler and immortal, to surpass the limitations of the title ‘little sister’ and become a ruler in her own right.  Surely she could not be faulted if, for just a moment, she dreamed of being taken care of?

Eyes glowing brightly, haloed by the stylized moon and lit from behind by the embers of sunrise at the tips of her ethereal mane, Luna, Princess of Night and Day, grasped the sun and moon and spun them past one another, across the horizon’s barrier.  With an effort of will she brought forth the vast majority of stars at a single stroke and nestled the dark sphere of the new moon among them.  Perhaps by the cycle her sister had kept during her absence it should have been a waning gibbous moon, but Luna was more mercurial and this particular evening the darkness of a new moon matched her mood.

Then, slowly and with great care, she focused her will upon four individual stars.  The four closest to the moon, the four that had kept her company in her long exile and aided in her escape.  There was a debt owed these stars, she knew, that could not be repaid.

Still, it was worth trying.  Every night she took the time to place them just so, to bring them out as individuals rather than as a part of the greater whole, to bestow upon them the care and blessings she had to give.

At last it was done.  The white light faded from her eyes.  For a moment her study seemed unfamiliar, too quotidian and yet, somehow, false, like the shadows thrown from a magic lantern on a screen, real until the hoof moved and the shadow changed form.

The door creaked open and Sunlit Rooms peaked her head in.  “Shall I have your dinner brought up to your study, your highness?” she asked.

“Still here, Ms. Rooms?  You are quite the hard worker.”  Sunlit blushed at Luna’s praise.  “Yes, please have dinner brought up and, since you’re still here, have the chefs fix a dinner for you as well.  Unless you have other plans?”

“Your highness I couldn’t—“ Sunlit’s blush deepened as her stomach rumbled.  “I would love to eat with you.”  A sudden thought perked her up.  “Perhaps your highness would care to have a cake sent up?

“Why would I…”  Luna took in the barely concealed eagerness on Sunlit’s face and barely suppressed a chuckle.  “Oh, I don’t know,” she teased, “I’m in the mood for a fruit salad, or maybe a small cupcake.  It wouldn’t do to have too many sweets.”

Sunlit’s face fell into a hangdog expression and Luna swore she could almost hear a whine coming from the smaller pony.  “Alright, alright,” she laughed.  “Have them send up a cake too.”

Perking up, Sunlit Rooms’ wings gave a little flitter of delight.  “At once princess,” she called, rushing from the room before Luna could change her mind.

A smile stayed on Luna’s lips as she collected and sorted the notes she had made.  The pegasus’ enthusiasm for cake made Luna a tad nostalgic.  Celestia was well known as a cake enthusiast and since Luna’s return they had often shared an evening meal seasoned with sisterly chatter.  Sunlit Rooms might not have been Celestia but it would be nice to share a friendly evening meal with another pony.

Now that was an odd thought, Sunlit Rooms as a stand in for her sister.  Sure they both loved cake but they really weren’t that similar.  Except…

Luna sat back from her notes, thoughts racing.

Except both ponies had a white coat, a sun related cutie mark, and worked in government.  Sunlit had spent much of the last day acting as a go between and attempted peacemaker between Luna and Twilight Sparkle.  As evinced by her contribution to the earlier discussion she was capable of incisive commentary into the nature of power dynamics in the Equestrian Court and society in general.

The cutie mark and coat could have been coincidences, and liking cake was hardly uncommon.  Her insight into government could easily have been due to her position.  Still, Luna couldn’t help but wonder.  Despite her skill with magic, Celestia always had loved to fly and often said that she would sooner give up her horn than her wings.

Okay, Luna thought, let’s conduct a little thought experiment.  Imagine for a moment that Celestia wanted to step back and let me take the reins of government.  She might find it hard to simply give up the position she had held for so long to a relatively untested pony who had been away for a very long time.  She might decide instead to disguise herself, take up a position nearby so she could guide events all while letting me think I’m on my own.

Wracking her brains, Luna tried to remember if she had ever met Sunlit Rooms before Celestia’s disappearance.  Unfortunately, other than Twilight who had made a rather large and rainbow shaped impression, Luna simply had not paid much attention to the myriad functionaries that danced attendance upon her sister.

The more she thought about it, the more Luna felt her anger rise.  It was exactly the sort of Machiavellian manipulation Celestia preferred.  And the plan was all too easy to see now that she looked for it.  Celestia would watch and when she had decided Luna was tired of the freedom afforded by her absence, or if a problem arose that required her expertise, the princess of the sun would return in all her glory and undo the memory spell currently in place.  In the resulting furor who would notice if one of the royal secretaries happened to disappear?

Grinding her teeth, Luna cleared aside her notes with her hoof, not trusting that she could keep them uncrushed if she used telekinesis.  Breathing in, she brought a hoof to her chest and gestured away as she exhaled.  Her anger flared back up as she remembered that this was one of Celestia’s favorite techniques for emotional control.

Still, it was effective and after a few more repetitions she felt more in control.  There was no proof yet, she reminded herself, and it would not do to upset an innocent pony’s life because of her paranoid suspicions. No, she would use this dinner as an opportunity to learn more about Sunlit Rooms’ life and, if she was in fact Celestia, try to trip her up.  If the dinner was inconclusive then perhaps a bit of clandestine investigation was in order.

Satisfied with her plans Luna returned to her review of her notes, eagerly awaiting the dinner that was to come.


***


Luna was waiting when Sunlit Rooms returned with the food, as well as a large and delicious-looking cake.  For the first few moments the only sound was of two ponies relishing the castle chef’s fine cuisine.  Then, in a casual tone, Luna spoke up.

“It occurs to me that I know far too little about you considering how much time we’re spending together.  And I have been reliably informed that an exchange of personal information is one of the best ways to make friends.”

Sunlit squeaked and almost dropped her spoon.  “F-friends?  Me?  With the princess?  Oh no, I wouldn’t presume so much.  I’m just a lowly assistant.”

“Nonsense,” Luna declared.  “I shall not lose an assistant by gaining a friend.”  Sunlit shifted uneasily in place but did not reply.  A reason for the other pony’s unease occurred to Luna and she hastened to clarify what she had meant.  “Worry not, I will not order you to divulge your darkest secrets or any such thing.  I merely wanted to know more about you.  Have you any family, for instance?”

“Oh, is that all?”  Sunlit perked up immediately.  “I guess the tabloids were wrong,” she whispered to herself.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing!”  Sunlit laughed nervously.  “So you wanted to know about my family right?  Well there’s my Ma and Pa out in Cloudsdale.  They’re both fog farmers.  They’ve got a nice crop of cloud seeds they plant each year and harvest once the mist bushes come in.  They wanted me to take over the family farm but it turned out I had a different calling and here I am.”

“They sound like nice ponies,” Luna commented.  “Do you have any siblings?”

Sunlit’s face clouded over.  “Yes, I’ve got a little sister.  Though we’re not getting along well right now.  She’s at that age where she needs a little space, I suppose.”

That sounds a little suspicious.  Time to push a little further, Luna thought.  “A headstrong young filly? What’s her name?”

Sighing, Sunlit Rooms hung her head and answered, “Selene Moonchild.”  Luna choked back a laugh while Sunlit Rooms just shook her head.  “I know, I know.  My parents went through a period of sampling their own wares and they were rather enamored with you at the time.”

This must be a jest.  But no, poor Sunlit Rooms looked entirely and embarrassedly serious.  It was hard to imagine Celestia choosing so outrageous a lie.

Unless that was exactly what Celestia wanted her to think?  Luna was rapidly coming to the realization that recognizing a slip up would be difficult considering what Sunlit Rooms was willing to say with a straight face.

Luna changed her angle of attack, in hopes of better luck.  “If you’re parents are fog farmers, then how did you get that cutie mark?” she asked.  “It seems to run counter to their work.”

“My cutie mark?”  Reflexively, Sunlit wiggled around to take a look at the sunbeam that adorned her flank.  “It represents the disinfecting power of sunlight on bureaucracy.”

Ok, that has to be a lie.  Luna’s skepticism must have shown on her face because Sunlit Rooms suddenly looked hurt.

“It’s true,” she protested.  “Would you like to hear my cutie mark story?”

“Please,” Luna said, rubbing her eyes with her wings.  She no longer expected to pick truth from falsehood, but the story promised to be interesting at least.  And perhaps she’d at least gain a bit more insight into Sunlit Rooms’ character, regardless of whether or not she was in fact Celestia.

Sunlit took a deep breath and began her story.  “Back when I was just a foal my class took a field trip to the mayor’s office in Cloudsdale.  As part of the tour we were supposed to meet the mayor and have her explain some bill she was working on.”  She waved her wings dismissively.  “You know, one of those ‘show the foals how government works’ things.”

“I have heard tell of such things,” Luna acknowledged, blushing.  When she had first returned Celestia had sent her on several such tours to reintroduce her to the process of government.  Being the only grown mare, let alone alicorn, on the tour had been embarrassing, but it had been fun to see little Pipsqueak again on the Trottingham tour.

“That day she was explaining a bill closing a public park.  The fillies and colts in my class really didn’t like the thought of a park closing so I was paying close attention to her explanation.  Whenever anything didn’t make sense I asked a question.”  Sunlit sat back, a satisfied smile gracing her lips.  “She started off with that condescending tone public official’s use around foals but pretty soon she got too angry for that and was gritting out one word answers.  I think the only reason she didn’t just stop answering was because the tour had passed the royal auditor’s office while I was pestering her and he was listening in.”

“What happened in the end?”  Luna asked.  “Did you find some flaw in the bill?”

Now it was Sunlit’s turn to blush.  “Ah, actually I stormed up to her, swiped the bill from her hoof, stalked over to her filing cabinet and began comparing the forms.  It turned out she was closing the park under false pretenses to sell the space to a noble that was a distant relative of her husband.  She was arrested by the guards and the royal auditor offered me a job on the spot.”

Luna just stared at her.  “You got your cutie mark for getting your mayor arrested?” she asked, disbelieving.

“Not quite,” Sunlit said, getting into telling her story.  “That just got me a summer job with the royal auditor.  Working together we uncovered proof that almost every single official in the ex-mayor’s office was corrupt as well.  The auditor thought he’d have to go back to Canterlot and get backup to arrest them all.  I thought that would take too long and give them too much of an opportunity to cover their tracks, so I came up with a better plan.”  The white pegasus grinned and there was a hint of mischief to it that Luna had not seen previously.

Bracing for further unbelievable revelations Luna asked, “What exactly was this plan of yours?”

“Remember, this was in Cloudsdale.  The town hall, containing the office of the ex-mayor and all her corrupt underlings was made of clouds.”  Luna nodded, not seeing where this was going.  “A creative interpretation of an old law let me get the building condemned due to an infestation of vermin.”

“You didn’t,” Luna gasped.

Sunlit nodded.  “I did.  Clouds are easy to build with so if there’s a problem with a building we just get rid of the building.  I used a giant lens and burned down town hall with sunlight.  That was when my cutie mark appeared.”

“Huzzah!”  Luna cheered.  “I thought the great tradition of burning corrupt courtiers alive had disappeared.  I am heartened to see I was wrong.”

“I didn’t kill anypony!” Sunlit exclaimed.  “They were given fifteen minutes warning to get out and weren’t allowed to bring any paper with them.  I burned down all the files they kept so that the original uncorrupted files had to be brought from Canterlot.  It kept them from doing any further harm.  The files were brought by the replacement officials and a contingent of the guard came as well to cart the criminals off.”

“That is far less exciting,” Luna pouted.

“I’m sorry that my cutie mark story about burning down town hall wasn’t sufficiently action packed for you,” Sunlit said dryly.  Her eyes widened as she suddenly remembered who she was talking to and she clapped her hooves over her mouth.  “Your highness, I’m so sorry.  That was disrespectful of me.”

Luna waved it away.  “Worry not, in private I see no reason for excessive formality.”

“In that case,” Sunlit began hesitantly, “do you mind if I ask you a question?”

Luna returned the bulk of her attention to her neglected meal.  “Ask away.”

“Why hadn’t you heard that story before?  That was what got me hired as your secretary after all.”

“Would you believe that I have other courtiers do most of the hiring?” Luna responded, thinking fast.

“I know that isn’t true.  You make it a point to at least check up on everypony we hire.”  Suspicion crept into her tone.  “There’s no way you would have missed that when you looked into my background.”

Sufficient authority would almost certainly put an end to the uncomfortable questions, but Luna was loathe to squelch the spark of independence Sunlit Rooms was displaying.  She settled on telling the truth, or a part of it at any rate.  “Certain arcane events have taken place which are influencing memories.  Rest assured, Archmage Sparkle and I know well what has occurred and will resolve it post-haste.”

“Is that why part of why you and the Archmage are fighting?” asked Sunlit Rooms, still suspicious that something was amiss.

“Not exactly.”  Luna struggled to find the right words without giving away too much.  “She and I have different perspectives which, when forced into close contact, lead to conflict.  I am confident she will come to see my point of view.”

“Perhaps, your highness.  But I can’t help but think you might make better progress working together rather than bringing her to heel.”

“I will take you recommendation under advertisement,” Luna said, with a hint of rebuke.

Visibly flinching back, Sunlit Rooms’ posture became as subservient as it was possible to be while still sitting at the same table.  “I-I’m sorry your highness.  I only worried, I mean, if there is any way I can help.”

Sighing, Luna shook her head.  “I accept your question in the spirit of concern in which they were meant.  I don’t think there’s anything you can—“ she broke off as her earlier suspicions came back to her.  “Actually, there is something you can do.”

The white pegasus looked up hopefully.  “Anything your highness, just name it.”

“I want you to tell me if this name means anything to you.”  Luna watched the smaller pony closely, looking for any sign of recognition, as she spoke.

“Celestia.”

Nothing.  Not a hint that the name meant anything to her.  On the one hoof, Luna was pleased that her sister did not appear to be playing her for a fool.  On the other hoof, she had gained a new appreciation for the joys of sharing burdens and would have liked to pass the burden of a ruler along.  On the third hoof, Celestia was a master of self-control and might have steeled herself to show no reaction.  On the fourth hoof, and wasn’t it nice that ponies had four hooves so she could track so many reactions, it hurt seeing that Celestia, Princess of the Day and lone ruler for 1000 years, had been forgotten by the ponies she so loved.

“I’m sorry princess,” Sunlit Rooms said apologetically, confirming what Luna already knew.  “I don’t know that name.”

Forcing her emotions aside Luna waved a wing casually.  “It is no matter, I would not have expected you to.”  She turned to the final dish of the dinner, the much desired cake.  “Now I believe we have one final dish to take care of.  Your princess commands you, eat until you are sated and pay no heed to either diet or health!”

“Yes, your highness!”  With a gleeful whoop Sunlit dove right in, Luna fast behind her.

It was a good cake.


***


This was the last of it, Luna resolved.  Regardless of what her current effort turned up, she would be content and pry no more into the affairs of a pony she was rapidly coming to like.

It had been easy, of course.  Following the meal she had dismissed Sunlit Rooms for the evening, watched her fly off to her home, and then turned to smoke and followed.

There were easier ways to follow a pony, invisibility, tracking spells, even dreamwalking.  But no, Luna shuddered, no dreamwalking.  Not now and perhaps never again, for that way risked the return of the Nightmare.  Smoke felt right, instead.  It allowed her to follow leaving no trace of her passing, save to those rare few ponies that scanned for alicorn magic.

Twilight was one such pony, she recalled as she followed along on the night breeze.  She would have to have been prepared for alicorn magic to have wards that were effective against Celestia’s memory spell.  Luna wondered if Twilight had placed those wards before Luna had returned, back when the only alicorn Twilight had known was the teacher she adored.  Or had those wards been placed specifically in response to Luna’s own arrival?  There were disturbing implications for either case.

No matter.  She set aside that curiosity for the time being.  Instead she gazed ahead to the pony she was followed.  Sunlit Rooms.  She seemed to be a determined and intelligent secretary.  Was she a loyal master of paperwork or deceptive but caring elder sister?  An answer was sought and an answer would be found.

On Luna followed, through her night.  Enjoying the strains of the music and laughter and slurred speech that spun up in ribbons from the windows and doors that still spilled light into her dark evening.  Mirrored above by the cold strains of clear music that sang, always sang, from her stars overhead.

And there she was, a sunbeam in the night.  Even in the dimness Sunlit’s mark shone with a small radiance all its own and Luna followed, a cloud of dark portent.  The princess of night felt discomforted at how easy it was to slip into the mindset of a creature of darkness, stalking the little lamb of light that had wandered too far afield.

No!  Luna tightened the cloud form she wore, brightening the stars that dotted her ephemeral body.  This was, perhaps, an invasion of privacy, but it was not an atrocity on the level of the Nightmare.  And after this it was done.  If she found nothing she would pry no more, and if she found her sister then no invasion had taken place, only the uncloaking of deception.

While Luna was drifting Sunlit had reached her home, a small apartment in one of Canterlot’s poorer districts.  Not quite a slum but not a place of wealth either, an odd place for a pony that drew a palace salary to live.  That mystery, however, was not Luna’s business.  She settled into place, a dark cloud hovering out of sight, and waited for Sunlit to sleep.

Unsurprisingly, Sunlit Rooms was a morning pony and even as Luna watched the light clicked out.  The sound of light snoring drifted out the open window to where Luna’s ears would have been.

Drawing again on the power of an alicorn Luna pushed Sunlit deeper into the Dreaming.  She could not, would not, go herself.  As a kindness, though, she could and did give joyous dreams to the sleeping pony, of sumptuous cakes for the eating, of a thousand bureaucratic Gordian knots waiting for her sun-blessed wit to cut them through.  And if, in one of those dreaming worlds, Sunlit found herself rejoicing at regaining family ties long thought sundered, who can say if that happy vision came from the dreamer or the mistress of the Dreaming?

Into that room came Luna and with an effort of will her body coalesced out of the smoke.  For a third time Luna called forth the power of an immortal, calling like to like, looking for a trace of her sister.  Her eyes glowed with true sight and her vision swept across the room and found… nothing.

Luna waited for a heartbeat… two… three.  Still nothing.

Tension eased from her shoulders as she moved to end the search.  There did not appear to be any evidence that Sunlit Rooms was secretly Celestia, and Luna was glad of that fact.

At the last possible instant before Luna let the true sight fade from her eyes, a glimmer of magic sparked in her peripheral vision.  Not near the sleeping pony, but on her writing desk, stashed in one corner of the tiny studio apartment.

Slowly and with leaden hooves, Luna trod over to the desk and looked down at the shimmering rectangle of immortal magic revealed to her sight.  A note, cloaked in the power of an alicorn.  With great trepidation she uncovered the envelope and brought it up to her eyes, reading easily even in the dim light.  On the front of the envelope these words were written:

To Princess Luna, Ruler of the Lunar Monarchy

Opening the enveloped she found a letter reminiscent of the one she’d been left less than a week earlier.

Dear Princess Luna,

I am glad, my sister, that Equestria stands strong as ever under your rule.  I look forward to the world you will make as your path diverges from mine.  I am glad, too, that Twilight Sparkle remembers me and has come to aid you in your rule.  She is my faithful student and I am surprised and proud that her spells held fast against my working.  I hope you will resolve your differences with her.  Though you can prevent it, if you will, I have long since set her on the path to joining us.  She still has trials to face, to be sure, but I believe in her.

It would relieve my heart to know that you had an immortal companion with whom to pass the ages, for I fear that I might not return.

You are reading this letter because you suspected that Sunlit Rooms was myself in disguise.  You searched for alicorn magic and I managed to place some part of myself in front of you.  I will tell you honestly, Sunlit Rooms may be Celestia, I am not sure.  All I know is that I am not wholly Celestia.  

I am merely what remains of her immortal magic.

It turns out we were not meant to be sundered from our immortal selves.  I cannot feel my body and am not sure if it even exists anymore.  Perhaps my mortal self is out there, somewhere, just as confused as I am.  Perhaps it is even the pony that sleeps in the room with you now.  I don’t know.

I now exist only in my own nebulous immortal magic and whatever remains of me within the mantle of the sun.  You carry me with you, always, though in a more literal way then I might have hoped.

I… I want to ask you for help, dear sister, but I fear that I do not have the right.  There is a painful parallelism in our current situation: you must learn to rule alone and I must escape a terrible magical prison.  

I will see you again.  I will!

But I feel myself… drifting. 

If I drift too far I am not sure I can put the pieces back together again.

In the end it doesn’t matter.  You have proven that you can handle the sun and moon, and you will learn to rule in time.  I am not needed anymore, not as I once was.  So I know that if I fail to return, I leave Equestria in good hooves; yours and perhaps those of my faithful student.

Be strong Luna, be light and darkness both.

Farewell,

Celestia
> Chapter 5: Triage
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Luna fled through her night.

Her sister had made a mistake?  She was gone, not just briefly so that Luna might learn a lesson, but gone with the possibility never to return.  It was inconceivable.

Literally, Luna had never imagined a day might dawn without her sister.  Even in the midst of the Nightmare the worst she had considered inflicting on her sister was banishment, fair turnabout for her own exile on the moon.  That was the whole point of immortality; that she would be there forever.

Now the Princess of Night faced the death of one she’d thought deathless and she was afraid.

So she fled.

Away from that room where she’d heard the terrible truth, carrying the letter that might prove to be last message from her sister, from Princess Celestia.  Her instincts sent her toward the castle, where every inch of stone and mortar was imbued with the feel of her sister’s magic.  There was no use to the castle.  It could not be used to trace or summon Celestia, at least so far as she knew, but its presence would be a comfort, like curling up alone under a blanket which had once been shared with a departed loved one.

Smoke form coiling through the window, Luna became corporeal in the empty great hall.  She could hear it now, a keening coming from the castle, a wail of grief echoing from the very stones, heard now because it was mirrored in her own heart.

Knowing that another shared her pain, even if it was merely a demesne, blunted the worst of the pain.  It knew Celestia and it would remember her in its own silent way, even if the worst should happen.  Much as the Castle of the Two Sisters must have done, Luna realized.  She now understood both why Celestia had left that castle and why she had not had it torn down upon leaving.  A memorial is no place to keep a home.

Celestia was not yet dead, though, so perhaps the grief the castle’s keening anticipated would never come to pass.  For that to be true, Luna needed help.  She needed somepony well versed in arcane lore, willing to plumb the depths of magic if that was what it took to bring Celestia back.

The answer was obvious.  Luna glanced around at the darkened hallway into which her hooves had carried her.  She was already well on her way to Twilight’s room.  Unthinkingly, Luna had let her hooves guide her toward the only other pony in the castle that would share her pain and maybe, if the letter spoke true, be able to help end it.

It was a long walk, longer than it should have been.  Even in their shared grief the castle still preferred Twilight to her, and after their argument it wanted to keep them apart.  Or perhaps that was just Luna feeling the waste of each second that was not spent helping her sister.  Either way, that walk through the empty corridors of her sister’s castle was one of the most lonely journey’s Luna had ever had to make.

At last, Luna stood before the door of Twilight Sparkle’s room at the top of her tower.  Despite having come this far, she hesitated at the threshold, remembering their previous fight.  It seemed unimportant compared with the need to help her sister.  Surely Twilight would see it the same way; after all, her love for Celestia was hardly any less than Luna’s.  Firming her resolve, Luna opened the door.  Stepping inside she found the room cold and empty with Twilight’s absence.

Now what? Luna wondered.  Somehow, during the whole arduous walk to Twilight’s room it had never occurred to Luna that the other pony wouldn’t be there.  She considered trying to find the Twilight, but Canterlot was a big city and finding a single pony in it would be a challenge.  No, she’ll come back to her room sooner or later.  It’s better to wait here, Luna decided.

For a moment Luna considered taking a seat on the couches on either side of a low table in the center of the room.  That seemed too still for the nervous energy that wracked her body so Luna stood, glancing around the room.  Her hoof kept tapping and when she finally managed to lock it down her wings took on twitches of their own.

If only there was something I could be doing.  Anything would be better than waiting, Luna lamented.  Unfortunately, there wasn’t any other pony she could think of that even had a chance of being able to help, and with the inner turmoil she was feeling at the moment she didn’t trust herself to make the right call either.  While she waited, Luna read and reread Celestia’s letter so many times that, had it been written on ordinary paper, it would have long since crumpled into illegibility.

After what seemed the hundredth reread, Luna cast the letter onto Twilight’s desk with a huff and took to pacing the room.  Her eyes lingered on the titles of the books filling the bookcases that lined three sides of the room.  On another evening she would have been good-naturedly judging Twilight’s taste in literature and looking forward to a discussion on how her old favorites fared when compared to the literary canon of the last thousand years.

But it was not an ordinary night, and that managed to suck the pleasure even from the thought of all the magnificent stories she had waiting for her now that she had returned.

As Princess of the Night it had not even occurred to her to turn on any lights, so the room was dim, lit only by stars from the massive window that covered the entire east wall of Twilight’s room.  That darkness was suddenly broken.  Without any sound to give warning, a bright light blazed through the window, its eerie illumination casting the whole room in a strange relief.

Luna rushed to the window and could just make out on its far left side a great column of light rising in the north.  A shockwave, one not fully in the material plane, followed after and Luna shook under its force, though the tower itself held firm.

At once, Luna’s mind raced back to her recent encounter with Sombra beneath the frozen tundra of the north.  She opened her magic to the light, dreading that she would feel his dark energy reaching out and contaminating all that the light touched.

No. Instead of the slimy creeping darkness she had feared, she found a fortifying strength.  The magic seeped into her body, slotting into a place she hadn’t realized was vacant.  It was unmistakably immortal magic and for a brief hopeful moment she thought her sister had somehow returned.  Her sister’s magic was different though, warmer and more fluid.  This put her in mind of another power, an old one, related to Sombra and yet different.  If she could just remember.

As hints of what the light could mean flickered through her mind, she could just see out of the corner of her eye a flash of purple on the top of the Canterhorn.  It was followed quickly by a much closer flash of purple light and upon turning around Luna found herself face to face with Twilight Sparkle, Spike, and that griffon ambassador whose name escaped Luna at the moment.

The lights in the room clicked on automatically at Twilight’s presence, a clever bit of magic nopony was in the mood to appreciate.  Scarcely pausing to catch her breath, Twilight started talking.  “Luna, you’re here.  Good, I—” Twilight stopped.   Luna could see her reasserting control, making some different choice.  Whatever that decision was, its outcome was not what Luna had expected.  Twilight bowed her head, slightly, and spoke more formally.  “Excuse me, Princess Luna, I desire your counsel.”

Luna considered the pony before her, mulling over both her actions and the implication of her sister’s letter.  “I need your help as well, Twilight Sparkle.  And you may call me Luna.”  As Twilight looked up in surprise Luna extended her foreleg.

Slowly, Twilight raised her own hoof and shook it.  In the background Gilda whispered to Spike, “That seemed more dramatic than it needed to be.  Am I missing something?”

Twilight’s focus never shifted from Luna.  “If may ask, what changed?”

“I would like to say that I carefully considered the matter and changed my mind.” Luna shifted uncomfortably and called Celestia’s letter over from the desk.  “However, the truth is I need your help and if that requires that I offer you respect then so be it.  Read and you will understand.”

Encased in a purple glow, Twilight raised the letter to her face.  Her eyes scanned back and forth with inequine speed and her eyes grew steadily wider.  By the time she reached the end of the letter the whites of her eyes were clearly visible across the room.  Immediately she returned to the top of the letter and read again at a slower pace.

Spike, seeing Twilight’s alarm, turned to Gilda.  “That face says that this is easily a five teacup problem, so I’m going to go make tea.  You can stay if you want to, but they’re probably going to be busy for hours.”

Gilda yawned, the late hour and busyness of the day catching up with her now that she had stopped moving and talking.  “I think I’m going to hit the perch.  I’d just be in the way and I’m still flight-lagged from the trip over.  Hey Sparkle!” she called over to Twilight.  “This doesn’t count as our official meeting, you hear?  You still owe me that.”  Twilight gave a distracted wave but didn’t answer.  “I’m not going to get anything more than that out of her now, am I?” she chuckled.

Spike shook his head.

“Ah well, I’ll be back soon enough anyway.  Watch yourself, cub.” She said to Spike, giving him a quick fist bump.  “Later.”  Gilda strode over to the nearest window and soared out, heading to the embassy’s eyrie for whatever sleep she could catch.

“I’m not a cub,” Spike grumbled as he set off to make tea.  “I’m not a griffon and I’m not that young either.”


***


Twilight finished rereading the letter and set it down slowly.  It had been a surprise to find Luna waiting for her in her room when they’d returned from the top of the mountain, but given the contents of the letter she understood.  Now, with that light in the north, the coincidence seemed convenient.  They had a lot to talk over.

She and Luna had seated themselves on the couches in the room’s center and she’d asked Luna to be quiet while she read the letter through a few more times, making sure no hidden meanings had been missed.  After a careful analysis, she was forced to admit that there was nothing hidden in it beyond the painful words of the letter itself.

She rubbed her temples, feeling the beginnings of a migraine, and began to speak, half to herself half to Luna.  “Ok.  Triage, what are the problems and what needs to be dealt with first?  Princess Celestia, or at least some part of her is dying, primary concern.  There is a strong source of immortal magic in the north that just appeared, secondary concern.  Princess Celestia’s body is missing and may or may not be Sunlit Rooms, tertiary concern.”  She paused, frowning, then nodded sharply.  “Right, so, Princess Celestia’s immortality is sentient and dissolving?”

“Maybe?”  Luna’s voice was weak and uncertain.  “I don’t recall an immortal ever being completely separated from their immortal magic before.  I don’t even know what that would mean.  I would have thought that it’s like asking if you can separate your brain from your mind, but if she’s sending letters then that doesn’t seem to be an accurate analogy.”

“What about when you were on the moon?” Twilight asked.  “Did you have both your body and your immortal magic then?  Is there some analogy to how you were then and how Princess Celestia is now that might be able to guide us in helping her return?”

“I don’t think so.  My body, mind, and magic were all in one place, plus the Nightmare, that place just wasn’t here.”  Luna hesitated, searching for the right words.  “Or anywhere, really.  I was imprinted on the moon and it became my body and mind, in a way. It was only with the help of four precious stars that I kept some semblance of an equine mind and was able to eventually return.”

“So you were in one piece whereas in this case Princess Celestia divested herself of her immortal magic, right?” Twilight clarified.  She winced and rubbed her head as her migraine grew worse.

Luna nodded.  “I think so.  Or you might say that her immortal magic divested its body, depending on what is more central to her being.  But it sounds like the magic is just floating around, and magic without a form does not last long.”

“Yes, but how long is not long?” Twilight asked.  Without standing she reached out with magic and pulled a few large books to her.  “We need to get a sense of how fast Princess Celestia is dissolving.  If we have time a bit of research might make all the difference but if it’s a choice between losing her and some desperate ploy I’d risk everything to save her.  We’re not losing Princess Celestia forever.  I’m just not!”

“Of course,” Luna affirmed.  “I do not know how much time we have but I’ll join you in risking everything to save Tia, regardless of what she wrote.”

“She wouldn’t need saving if you hadn’t thrown a hissy fit!”  Twilight snapped, anger flaring in her heart.  How dare Luna act sad when this is all her fault, she thought.  Luna’s taken aback expression startled Twilight in turn and helped her push the strange surge of anger back down.  Twilight clapped a hoof over her mouth.  “I’m sorry!  I didn’t mean to say that.  I, ah-” she grimaced and rubbed her head.  “This situation must be getting to me and this headache isn’t helping.  I am sorry though, you didn’t deserve that.”

Luna regarded the smaller pony carefully.  “We have more important matters to consider so I’ll pay that no mind.  Are you ok though?  You don’t look well.”

“I’m fine,” Twilight insisted despite her drawn face and bloodshot eyes.  “I don’t have time not to be.”  She tried to push back her discomfort and move the conversation to the next problem that faced them.  “So the light, do you have any idea what it might be?  I felt immortal magic in it but nothing I was familiar with.”

“I have some idea of what it is, though my memories are still blurry,” Luna began.  Before she could continue Spike returned with his little tea trolley.  It clattered as he rolled it into the room and gently placed a cup of steaming fragrant tea in front of each of them.  Twilight shot him a grateful smile and sipped her tea with evident relief while Spike settled onto the couch next to Twilight.  He did a double take as he took in her pained face.  He shot Luna a glance to ask if she knew why Twilight looked so haggard, and all she could do was shake her head in response.

“Thank you for the tea, Spike,” Luna said, adding two cubes of sugar to her cup.  “I was just about to explain to Twilight what I know of that strange light.”

“Oh, notes!” Twilight said, sitting up suddenly.  “I’ll need to write this down.”  She made to get up, but Spike stopped her with a claw.

“I’ll take care of it.  You look like you need to sit down for a bit.”

Twilight hesitated before sinking back into the plush purple fabric of the couch with a grateful sigh.  “Thanks, I’d really appreciate that.”

In short order, Spike had a piece of parchment and quill at the ready.  He and Twilight looked to Luna expectantly.

“I believe,” Luna began, “that the light is from a place called the Crystal Empire.  It was a kingdom that used to exist to the north of Equestria.  It wasn’t just an ordinary kingdom, though, there was something special about it.”  She growled and shook her head.  “It’s irritating me, but I can’t remember what that special thing was.  Something about magic, I think.  It had a special kind of magic, maybe?”

The gentle scratch of Spike’s quill against parchment was the only sound as Luna tried to cudgel some answers from her muddled memories.

“Some form of immortal magic?” Twilight asked.

“Not just immortal magic, I don’t think.  There was something more to it.  I wish I could remember,” Luna groaned.

“Why is your memory so shaky here?  You seem to have reasonable recall of other topics from before your banishment.”  Twilight’s curiosity had been piqued and her headache had abated somewhat as she questioned Luna.

“This was fairly close to when I became the Nightmare,” Luna admitted, gazing down into her teacup.  “I don’t- I don’t really remember that period of my life well.  I don’t think I want to, to be honest.  If we could focus on what I do remember of the Crystal Empire?”

Twilight nodded.  “Sorry to bring up unpleasant memories.  You’re right, we need to focus on the more urgent problems.”

Luna looked up.  She wasn’t smiling, quite, but she no longer looked so sad.  “Thanks.  I’ll tell you more about the magic if I remember it.  There’s a little bit more I remember about the Crystal Empire itself.  She glanced over a Spike.  “You ready?”

Spike had paused in his writing as they spoke and was shaking out his claw.  He moved quickly to pick the quill back up and looked at Luna.  “Ready when you are, princess.”

Luna then explained how a pony named Sombra had managed to capture the magic of the Crystal Empire and used it to further his own magic.  It had made him so powerful that he had become a terrible threat to the world, a mortal who had ascended to challenge even the immortals.  They could not defeat him in open battle so they had conceived of a way to banish the Crystal Empire and Sombra with it.  And finally, Luna explained how she had met Sombra in his prison less than a week ago and renewed the bounds on him with the mantle of the sun.

“I don’t know,” Luna concluded, “why it has returned now.  Nor do I know if Sombra has returned as well, or if he will be able to regain control of the Crystal Empire”

As she spoke, Twilight’s color improved and she was able to focus on Luna’s story rather than the headache.  When Luna finished talking the gears in Twilight’s head were already turning.

“So it sounds as though we simply need more information about the Crystal Empire before we can really make any informed decisions,” Twilight remarked.  “We need to know more about what it’s capable of and how Sombra plays into its return.  But I think it’s too dangerous to approach it until that light dissipates.  There’s no telling what it would do to us if we got too close.”

“That is my take on the situation as well,” Luna agreed.  “I believe we should arrange for an expedition that can be ready to travel north the moment the light fades.”

“Right.  And one of us should go with them, probably me since you have a country to run, to see if some trace of Princess Celestia was drawn northward, like calling to like, as it were.”  Twilight reached forward to take another sip of tea and missed, knocking the tea cup over.  She blinked stupidly at the suddenly spreading liquid.  Leaning forward she missed her supporting hoof and almost smashed her face into the table, only to be caught by Spike at the last second.

“Twilight! Twilight what’s wrong?”  Spike pulled her back into a sitting position but her head lolled on her neck.  At his words she tried to focus and just managed to pull her head upright, though the world still seemed to be spinning around her.

“Sorry, sorry,” she slurred.  “What were we talking about?  What was that third problem?  Right, Sunlit Rooms.  We need to come up with a way to determine if she is Princess Celestia.”  She whimpered as another wave of pain burned through her head.

“First we must see to you,” Luna said worriedly.  “I’ll send for a doctor.”

“No! No…” Twilight mumbled, looking down.  “Princess Celestia is more important.  Celestia… Celestia…”

Spike hopped down from the couch and stood in front of Twilight, forcing her to meet his eyes.  “Look at me Twilight.  Look at me.  We need to help you right now, Celestia can come later.”

“Celestia… later!  No.  Celestia…”  Twilight’s ramblings grew incoherent but her gaze focused on Spike and her eyes narrowed.  “Celestia.  Now.  Celestia.  For… ev… er…” she gritted out.  Behind Spike Twilight’s teacup rose into the air, her aura holding it darkening ominously.  With a snap the cup shattered, leaving behind artificially sharp jagged shards of porcelain.

Held in that dark aura, the shards rose into the air and floated behind Spike’s head.

“No!”  Luna realized what was happening too late and her cry of alarm came too slow.

“For Princess Celestia,” Twilight ground out again through gritted teeth.  Held in her magenta aura the razor sharp shards sped toward the back of Spike’s head.  It was impossible to say if Spike realized what was happening, but his gaze never wavered; he kept looking into the maddened eyes of his only family member.

That was why he saw, as the shards neared impact, a trace of lucidity return to Twilight’s feverish eyes.  At the last instant, Twilight’s hoof kicked out and knocked Spike aside.

So, instead of cutting into Spike’s head, the shards were driven deep into Twilight’s right eye.

Recoiling on the couch she loosed a scream of agony, clutching at her injured eye.  Spike sprang up from where he’d tumbled and ran to her.  “Twilight!”

Luna was scarcely an instant behind.  Healing had never been her specialty and she knew no healing spells.  Instead, she channeled her magic freely, focusing on thoughts of health and the banishment of pain.  As the navy blue aura soaked into her, Twilight’s screams turned to whimpers.  Her breath hissed out of her and at first Luna thought it due to the pain.

Then she caught the suspicious words in buried in Twilight’s exhalation.  “Attacked me, probably attacked Princess Celestia too.”

Recoiling, Luna almost ended her spell, but she feared Twilight would injury herself further if it was ended.  Instead, she grabbed Spike and pulled him back, out of Twilight’s reach.  “This cannot be normal.  Has anything happened to injure Twilight’s mind?”

The little dragon shook his head, scarcely listening.  Tears welled up in his eyes.  “Twilight, why?”  He shook off Luna’s hoof and ran forward, grabbing Twilight’s head and turning it toward the darkened right side of the window.  The contrast between the lit room within and the night outside had turned that part of the window into a mirror and he forced her to look at her own reflection.  “Look.  This isn’t you Twilight.  Come back to me.  Please!”

Perhaps it was his pleading, or the frightening reflection in the mirror echoing what the castle had showed her before.  Perhaps it was simply the pain.  Regardless of the cause, a lucid shard of Twilight wrestled to the surface against the tide of madness.

This was what the castle was warning me about, she realized.  This was what Spike noticed about my anger.  Something is interfering with my mind.  As Luna’s healing spell continued, the pain receded and without the pain to keep her grounded she felt her mind flowing away again.  “Stop.  Healing.”  She ground out, hoping the renewed pain would help glue the pieces of her mind together.

“But your eye, your pain,” the princess objected.

Spike whirled around.  “If she says you need to stop then do it,” he snapped.  Startled, Luna let her magic lapse.  Twilight’s whimpering turned to pained moans.  “What else can we do?” Spike asked desperately.

The dive into madness and the return through pain had served their purpose.  Twilight had heard a word in the drumbeat of madness that explained everything.  She felt it even now, pounding against the borders of her mind, trying to gain entrance and shatter what sanity remained.

CELESTIA.

CELESTIA.

CELESTIA.

It had been the memory spell.  Of course it had.  Twilight had thought her wards could keep out a spell powered by the divesture of the immortality itself?  What arrogance.  She had thought concern for her mentor had driven the uncharacteristic anger she had displayed, had thought her love/admiration/worship for Princess Celestia explained the haze and the pain that seemed to fill her mind whenever the princess’s name was mentioned.

But no, her ward had not turned the spell aside, it had inverted it and locked it in.  Instead of forgetting, it had filled her mind with Princess Celestia, calling forth the obsession whenever the name was mentioned.  Until her mind and magic began to melt under the reverberation of the name.

CELESTIA.

CELESTIA.

CELESTIA.

Twilight screamed, an agonizing cry, fighting to beat back the waves of madness.  How could she break the spell?  How could she end the assault on her mind?

Not for nothing was Twilight Sparkle the Archmage.  Even when her mind was under attack from an immortal’s spell, when she was blinded in one eye and in terrible pain, she was still a master of magic.  Two possible solutions occurred to her immediately.  One was to reinvert the spell, as it were.  Change it back into what it was meant to be and allow it to resolve.  Once its purpose was fulfilled the spell would unravel and the excess power that was lashing at her brain would dissolve.

Unfortunately, the spell was meant to make the subject forget the existence of Princess Celestia.  Choosing this option would mean the loss of any memory of the princess, as had happened to every other pony, leaving Luna to recover her sister alone.

That was not an option.  Which meant that there was really only one choice.

She sucked in a deep breath and readied her magic for what she would have to do.  It was dangerous, of course, but there were no safe paths and…

CELESTIA!

She was running out of time.  Pulling Spike close to her, she whispered what she needed him to do.

He stared at her, openmouthed.  “Please, don’t make me do that.  Anything else, please!” he begged.

“I ahhh,” she broke off with a whimper as a fresh bolt of pain lanced through her eye.  “I need you to do this for me, Spike.”

The little dragon drew himself up and angrily scrubbed the tears from his eyes.  He needed clear sight for this, the smallest mistake would be catastrophic for Twilight.  “Ok.  Alright.  If you say so I’ll do it.  Ready?”  With sheer force of will Twilight pulled her forelegs from her ruined eye.  She faced him dead on and whimpered out an affirmative.

Spike inhaled.

And blew a straight and narrow flame directly into Twilight’s ruined eye.

Twilight screamed again, shrill and primal and pained.  Dragonfire was said to be more terrible than any ordinary flame, said to burn down to the very soul and right now Twilight certainly believed it.  However, it was the other trait of dragonfire that she needed: it burned through all other magic.

Diving deep into her own magic, Twilight pushed the pain away as best she could, focusing instead on her nerve endings.  As the fire met the nerve ending at the back of her eye she unleashed the spell she had prepared.  Her magic grabbed at the dragonfire, pushing away the physical heat of the flame and pulling the magic-cancelling part of the dragonfire forward along the optic nerve towards her brain.

As the dragonfire was pulled along it began to eat through her guiding and protection spells.  She reinforced them desperately, racing to keep her magic coherent against the corrosive influence of the dragonfire.  Walking a knife’s edge didn’t begin to describe it.  If she faltered in her magic the dragonfire would burn through her nervous system, killing her instantly.  If she smothered it completely then the spell tainting her mind with CELESTIA would kill her almost as swiftly.

Racing just ahead of death, Twilight felt the dragonfire enter her cranium.  She thickened her magic on one side and thinned it on the other, guiding the dragonfire counterclockwise around her brain.  The burning in her skull brought the cleansing clarity of fire.  Pounding became thumping became a simple beat before almost disappearing entirely as the dragonfire burned away the rogue spell.

Hope began to rise in Twilight’s heart as she felt the pressure on her mind clear.  There was still pain, to be sure, pain of a brutalized eye and pain of tortured mind, but it was her eye now and her mind.

Even as the corrupted spell faded she came upon the most dangerous part of this improvised process, casting the dragonfire back out of her head.  The idea was to circle it around her skull and crash it against itself.  This would reflect its cancelling effect and expel the rest of the dragonfire from her empty eye socket.  The trick was going to be in making the loop in the stream of dragonfire without leaving an opening for it to roar across her unprotected brain.  She watched in her mind’s eye as the dragonfire circled back around, trying to time the perfect moment to extend her spellwork and complete the loop.  Waiting for the right moment.

Now!

Back in the world, Spike and Luna watched with fear as Spike’s dragonfire flowed into Twilight and her eyes lit from within.  They listened in terror as her screams continued on and on, long after her body should have ceased to be able to support them.  Spike’s claws clenched with impotent rage at his own inability to help and at the thought he might have killed his sister.

At last, a great plume of green and purple flame poured from Twilight’s eye.  With one last scream, she collapsed into terrifying stillness.
> Chapter 6: Dragon's Gift
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight woke up.

All things considered, she thought that that was a pretty good sign.

Slowly, the processes of her mind started to hum into motion.  She was lying on a soft surface she assumed was her bed, based on the way it molded perfectly to the contours of her body.  Now, what hurt?

Less than might be expected.  There were a few deep muscle aches and pains consistent with the strain of writhing in pain, but in general all the pieces of her body felt like they were where they were supposed to be.

Tentatively, Twilight worked her way into a sitting position, cautious for any sudden shooting pains.  None appeared, so she dared open her eyes.

Eye.

Oh.

That was going to take some getting used to.

The world around Twilight swum hazily into view. A flat view, like watching the world manifested on a pane of glass.  Her depth perception was, unsurprisingly, shot to Tartarus, though the dizziness she was feeling probably wasn’t helping matters.

Following her immediate instincts, she lit her horn and pulled a book off one of the shelves that lined three of the walls of her tower bedroom.  Opening it to a random page she reassured herself that the world of the printed word had not abandoned her.

Daring Do knocked the goblet from its plinth and into the lava below, shouting ‘you’ll never have it, Ahuizotl.’

Closing the book Twilight sighed with relief.  She had not lost her ability to read or her ability to do magic.  Therefore, the injury had, at the very least, not taken from her the two traits she held most precious.  It was not a catastrophic injury.

Rising from the bed Twilight made her way over to the bathroom, intent on inspecting her missing eye in the mirror.  Reaching for the handle she misjudged the distance and walked right into the door, banging her sore horn in the process.  Catastrophic or not, her injury still had done plenty of damage.  Hissing in pain Twilight fumbled for the handle again and let herself in, walking with her head down until she stood before the floor length mirror.

Altogether she really didn’t look that bad.  Sure she had bed head and her coat could use a good brushing, but really she was in better shape than she had any right to be.

Except for one thing.

Talking a deep breath Twilight’s vision drifted upwards until she could look herself in the eye.  Still she shied away from seeing it straight on.  Instead, Twilight let her gaze trace along the cuts standing out in angry red lines on her face, avoiding the dramatic mark at their center.

Slowly, reluctantly, she shifted her eye to regard the empty socket where her right eye once had been.  Unlike the cuts, her eye had not only been shredded by the shards of the teacup, but also cauterized by Spike’s flame.

Cauterized by dragonfire.  No power she had ever heard of could heal that wound, nor could anything restore her sight in that eye.  The emptiness of the socket and the sheer knowledge that this was something that could be fixed hurt, but not as much as she had expected.  Arguably not as much as was warranted.

She had already established that her magic and her books were still open to her and it was hard to imagine her friends or Spike or Luna abandoning her due to an injury.  The loss was painful, yes, but it would not destroy her.  Already, she had begun to plan how to replace the eye.

A magical artifact, perhaps? A crystal imbued with some type of sensory charm?  Or maybe a specialized form of depth perception detection?  An elaborate ring around her head using echolocation feeding directly into her spatial perception?  The ideas came thick and fast.

Too fast.

Twilight shook her head, still staring into her eye socket.  Why isn’t this bothering me more, she thought.  I just lost the eye and I’m already getting excited imaging the magical research I’ll get to conduct to develop a prosthesis.

Her thoughts seemed almost slippery, branching from main line to tangent effortlessly, easily tracking several trains of thought at once.  Twilight had spent quite a bit of time thinking.  She was very familiar with the strengths, weaknesses, and patterns of her normal thought processes.  This wasn’t normal.  Somehow, something in the mechanics of how she thought had changed.

As a test, Twilight posed a math problem to herself.  The square root of 546 is?

23.36664289109…

The answer came instantly, easily, and she cut it off after eleven digits.  What about science, she wondered.  What are the elements corresponding to, say, the atomic numbers 15, 8 and 28?

Phosphorus, Oxygen, Nickel.

Again, the answers were there instantly.  For a moment she dared hope that she had somehow become super intelligent.  Alright, now, what’s the solution to Fermane’s last theorem?

…

Ponyfeathers.

Disappointing though it was, Twilight had to rule out a sudden increase in intelligence.  It wasn’t that she suddenly knew more.  She certainly could have solved the other problems she’d put to herself, it was just that it suddenly took less time and required less focus.  As if she had spent a significant period of time memorizing those specific facts for quick recall when she hadn’t done any such thing.  Her brain was simply running as if retrieving any piece of information it contained was effortless.  But what could have happened to change how her brain ran?

Well, when she put it like that the answer seemed pretty obvious.  Her brain had gotten a nice dose of dragonfire.  The goal had been to cancel out… her… memory spell, but if there had been any other magic affecting Twilight’s brain it would have been destroyed as well.  Apparently, there had been magic tying up a non-trivial amount of Twilight’s mental processing.  She had never cast any spells on her own mind, there was far too much danger something would go wrong and permanently impair her thought processes.  So who could have cast it and what had the magic been meant to do?

Spike’s worried voice interrupted her musings.  “Twilight?  Where are you?”

“I’m in the bathroom, Spike.  I’ll be right out,” she called back.  Giving her new appearance a last onceover, Twilight turned away.  After performing her morning ablutions, brushing her teeth, washing her face, and brushing her coat, she walked out of the bathroom, still combing her mane.

“There you are.  Are you sure you should be up and about already?”  Spike asked, a frown covering his small face.  “How do you feel?”

“I feel fine Spike.”   Her stomach growled as she sniffed the air, catching the delicious scent of the breakfast he had brought with him.  “A bit hungry, but it appears you’ve brought the solution to that particular ill.”  She trotted past him, grabbing the breakfast cart in her magic as she went.  “Come on, let’s eat.”

Spike followed her over to a small round table across from the bed, where they had traditionally eaten breakfast when they had lived in the tower.  He wrung his hands, guilt twisting his face as he forced himself to speak.  “I – Twilight, I’m really sorry.  It’s my fault, all my fault.  If I hadn’t burned you maybe somepony could have healed your eye, but now they can’t and it’s my fault and you’re going to hate meeeeee,” his voice skirled upward as he spoke, finishing in a wail.

Startled, Twilight looked up and took in her number one assistant’s miserable expression, the tears building in his eyes. “Oh, Spike,” she said softly, “It wasn’t your fault at all.”  She knelt down and wrapped him in a tight warm hug.  “And I could never hate you.  Besides, you did exactly what I needed you to do.”

He sniffed, arms coming up to return the hug.  “Really?  You’re not just saying that?  I trust you, but I was worried that you were in a lot of pain and not thinking clearly.”

“I mean it Spike.  You saved my life.”  Twilight gave him one last squeeze and released him.

Rubbing the tears from his eyes, Spike sniffed again and made an effort to regain a measure of control.  “What happened there, Twilight?  One second you were talking to Princess Luna and the next you were screaming and your eye was all bloody and you were telling me to breathe fire at you.”

Twilight paused, parsing what Spike had just said.  “Does that mean you didn’t see how my eye got injured initially?”

“Not really.  It all happened so fast.”

Twilight was of two minds about how to reply.  One part of her believed in the whole truth at all times and so thought that she should tell Spike that she had injured herself in attacking him.  Another part never wanted to let Spike know how close she had come to harming him.  Or attempting to harm him anyway, since even sharp porcelain might not do much against dragon scales.  Though he was only a baby dragon and her magic was strong.

“I--,” she began, still uncertain what she was going to say, watching his innocently expectant expression.  Oddly enough, it was that innocent look that helped her decide in favor of the truth.  Twilight had kept herself from harming him while mentally damaged and in terrible pain.  She was not going to lie to Spike while her mind was clear.

“I was wrong, before, when I thought that the memory spell didn’t affect me.  You must have been safe because of the combination of the ward and your natural resistance as a dragon.  I got hit with a version of the spell that was altered by going through my ward.”  Twilight shifted uneasily as she spoke, trying not to dwell on how easily the interaction between her ward and the spell could have simply fried her mind then and there.  “It had been building for days and it got worse every time she was mentioned.”

Spike cocked his head.  “You mean Princess Celestia.”

Twilight fought down a conditioned wince, though the name shouldn’t actually hurt anymore.  “Yes, her.”  She shook off the discomfort and continued.  “Anyway, during my conversation with Luna the name was said often enough to reach critical mass.  The thought of her resonated through my mind and cast everything else out.  I could think only of her and everypony else was an enemy.  I had to attack to protect her, to show my loyalty to the only pony I could remember.”

Twilight took a steadying breath, marshalling her courage to tell the truth.  “I don’t think you could see, Spike, but after you ran over to me I was still holding my tea cup.  I crushed it into sharpened shards and pulled it toward you.”

“Toward me?” Spike asked, then his eyes widened in understanding.  “That’s why you kicked me.  I thought you were flailing out of control but you were pushing me out of the way.  Of course. There’s no way you could ever hurt me Twilight!”

“Spike, I almost—“

“You didn’t,” he said firmly.  “I know you would never.  The only thing you did do was push me out of harm’s way, regardless of the cost to yourself.”  Twilight tried to protest again but Spike talked right over her, hurrying along to keep her from dwelling on what he apparently felt was misplaced guilt.  “So then the dragonfire, was that to cancel out the mental spell?”

“Yes,” Twilight replied, reluctantly allowing herself to be drawn forward in the conversation.  “That’s the gist of it, actually using the dragonfire that way without burning my own brain was a bit more complicated, but since I’m still alive and sane it must have worked out.”

“I’m glad it did,” Spike started to say, before being interrupted by a growling stomach.  “I guess I’m relieved enough to be hungry again,” he chuckled.  “How about you fill me in on the rest of the details over breakfast?”

Twilight nodded in agreement and the two settled in their places around the small breakfast table with the ease of long habit.  They talked as they ate, Twilight explaining the magi-mechanical underpinnings of what had happened, at least so far as she had figured them out.  She bounced ideas off of Spike and his familiarity with Twilight’s way of thinking let him act as a good sounding board.  She also mentioned the strange increase in the speed of her mental processing and the two considered explanations for that as well.

Both pony and dragon had happy memories of many mornings spent in a similar fashion, brainstorming Twilight’s latest project and area of study, laughing and joking with one another as they talked.   Though the subject matter was more personal in this case, the familiarity of the situation was a comfort to both, a reaffirmation of the closeness of their connection.  It wasn’t so much the words said as the warmth of the tone and the trust that anything could be shared, discussed, and dissected, that rejuvenated the both of them after the long few days they’d had.

Just as the meal was ending and the conversation wrapping up, Sunlit Rooms rapped lightly on the door and, after being given permission, entered the room.  Twilight couldn’t help but eye her askance.  After all, this was the pony who could possibly be one component of Princess Celestia.  Twilight couldn’t puzzle out whether she should respect Sunlit based on her feelings toward Princess Celestia, or if she should be angry at the other pony for abandoning her position and Twilight herself.  It was all too complicated to deal with immediately and in any case there was crucial information missing.  With an effort of will, Twilight walled off those conflicting emotions and focused on listening to what Sunlit had come to say without judgement.

On the other hoof, Sunlit Rooms, was unambiguously pleased to see Twilight moving around.  “You’re up!  I’m so glad.  We were all so worried.  The doctor Princess Luna brought in said that you seemed to be fine, but he wouldn’t know for sure until you woke up.  How do you feel?”

Twilight pushed away her misgivings and reciprocated the other pony’s cheerful tone.  “I feel fine now, Sunlit.  Ready to get back to work, even.”

“Oh no, you should take it easy and give yourself time to adjust,” Sunlit said considerately.

“There are too many things going on right now for me to take a few days to rest,” Twilight objected, shaking her head.  “Besides, Princess Luna might need my help dealing with the fallout from the light in the north.”

“Well…”  Sunlit glanced around for eavesdroppers and lowered her voice as if in fear of being overheard.  “The truth is Princess Luna did seem a little nervous about having to explain the light to the court.”

Twilight barely prevented herself from noting acerbically that, one, they were at the top of her tower and thus perfectly well protected from being overheard, and two, glancing around suspiciously and speaking in a whisper was the best way to alert an eavesdropper to the fact that something interesting was being said.

Instead of commenting, Twilight took Sunlit’s words seriously.  “That’s understandable.  The court will no doubt be pretty unhappy about this.”  She paused as if struck by a sudden thought.  “I know.  I’ll go back her up, help her deal with the explanations.  I’m sure the thought that both of us are on the case will be reassuring to the nobles.”

“No no, the medic said you were not to do anything strenuous after waking up,” Sunlit protested.  “I can’t stop you from doing any work, but facing the whole court is out of the question.”

“Sunlit, trust me when I say that Princess Luna would be very grateful for my help right now,” Twilight responded.  “Besides I feel fine.”

“I don’t know…”  Sunlit fretted.

“I do.”  Twilight turned to Spike.  “Can you bring out the roll of black fabric from my workshop?”

“On it.”  The little dragon darted across the room and undid a frankly ominous number of locks.  With a grunt of effort, he pulled open the heavy steel door, pushed open the second heavy steel door hiding behind the first, and disappeared into Twilight’s magical experimentation room.  She refused to call it a laboratory.  Laboratories were for mad scientists and she was an Archmage.

“Why does it have so many locks?”  Sunlit’s tone had become, if anything, even more fearful.

Twilight glanced over at her.  “Does it make you nervous?”

“Yes.”

“Then trust me, telling you would not help your peace of mind.”

Sunlit gulped but didn’t ask any more questions.

A moment later Spike trotted out of the dark room, redoing the locks and doors behind him.  “I brought the black fabric and a black leather strap.  You’re making an eye patch, right?”

“Astute as ever my faithful assistant.”  Twilight’s purple aura surrounded the two components and with a quick application of telekinesis, a cutting spell, and a melding spell she possessed a serviceable eye patch.  With a quick jerk of the head she fit it over her missing eye. “How do I look?” she asked the watching pony and dragon.

Sunlit Rooms and Spike glanced at one another, uncertain of how to respond.  The truth was that between the unhealed cuts standing out in angry red lines on her face, the black eye patch, and the fierce gleam in her remaining eye, Twilight was a frightening sight indeed.

“You, ah, you look pretty scary there Twilight,” Spike ventured hesitantly.

“Perfect.”  She grinned and Spike could have sworn that he saw teeth sharp enough to do credit to any dragon.  “Time to hold court.”


***


Luna had hoped that fear of the strange light up north would make the nobles of the court less intractable or, failing that, that necessity would make it easier for her to deal with the irritation they caused.  Neither turned out to be the truth.  Once again, it took only three minutes after the opening of court for Luna to find herself thoroughly frustrated.  Thankfully, rescue was on the way.

At the far end of the hall the towering oak doors briefly glowed magenta and slammed open, silencing the babbling of the nobles.  In strode the Archmage, Twilight Sparkle.

Nobles, by and large, could be fairly described as clockwork parasites.  Their goals tended to be no larger or more ambitious than skimming a few bits off the top while ensuring that ordinary life just kept ticking along.  Having made it to the top of the social totem pole they were happiest when times were normal and they were left to their own pursuits.

The nobles of Equestria knew that times were decidedly not normal.  Within the past year two ancient and sealed evils had returned to threaten all that they held dear.  Both had been stopped by Archmage Twilight Sparkle, apprentice to the princess, wielder of the Elements of Harmony and, presumably, other powers more eldritch still.  And now a great and terrible light shone in the north, displaying a power they knew they could not match.

So, when Twilight Sparkle walked the length of the hall, her eye newly missing, her face bearing the wounds of some unknown battle, they regarded her with a noxious mixture of hate and hope.  Hate because she was already a figure straight out of a legend, destined for great and terrible deeds that would disrupt their stable lives.

Hope because, when the proverbial shit hit the fan, when dead gods rose and strange magic shone forth, it was answered by Twilight Sparkle.

Luna could see that Twilight was aware of how the nobles regarded her, how she walked with purpose, head up, eye straight ahead to play to their expectations.  But there was something more to it as well, even compared to a few days before when Twilight had also burst uninvited into court.

There is some trace of regality in her bearing now, perhaps, Luna mused, or maybe it’s instead that a weight has been lifted from her shoulders, despite her injury.  Either way, no pony spoke or looked away from Twilight as she made her stately way across the hall and settled into the waiting chair just beside and below the princess’s throne.

In a clear almost lecturing tone, she spoke.  “The light is excess energy from an unraveling immortal spell.  When the energy of that spell has exhausted itself, a land called the Crystal Empire will have returned to the frozen north.  At that time, I will lead a team north to assess the situation onsite.  We will determine what is to be done with the new land when I return to Canterlot.  In the meantime, the royal guard will increase patrols and the palace will be restricted to authorized personnel.”

It was a good response, Twilight had answered their questions and been seen to do something productive.  The specific words and actions themselves were almost unimportant, it was the message the total package conveyed that mattered.  ‘The situation is under control, I will take care of it,’ is what Twilight was saying and it was exactly what the nobles wanted to hear.

Tension eased in the court as they understood that Twilight was claiming responsibility for the light.  They could dismiss it from their thoughts now and go back to their own concerns.  Twilight would handle it.

Of course, relief did not come quite so easily to Luna.  She knew that the burden of responsibility also rested on her shoulders.  Nevertheless, there was a certainty in this new Twilight that provided a measure of calm to Luna, a belief that the Crystal Empire would be dealt with and her sister would be saved.

A smaller echo of that calm came to Luna as she realized that Twilight would handling court for the day.  Watching petitioners come and go while Twilight dealt swiftly with their problems put her in mind of the way Celestia had described her student.  She had said that Twilight viewed interactions with other ponies as a transaction.  As the leader of court she had a clearly defined role: solve problems without letting the nobles have too much of what they wanted.  By contrast she felt adrift in ordinary conversations, uncertain of what role she should play.  For Twilight, a non-Pinkie Pie party was nigh unto hell, but presenting her thesis before 200 of Equestria’s greatest scholars presented no problem.

Luna shook herself from her musings and tried to focus on the court itself.  Sooner or later she was actually going to have to lead the court and here was a perfect opportunity to watch how her sister would have done it, albeit filtered through Twilight Sparkle’s interpretation of Celestia.

Slowly, as time wore on and ponies came and went Luna began to understand the rhythms of the court.  It was not unlike a scene she had seen on the far off Zebrican plains.  A pack of hyenas working together to bring down a large elephant.  One would nip at it on the right and when the larger animal turned to crush the offender another hyena would attack on the left, and so on and so forth.

So too would the nobles nip at Twilight, their pestering drawing her ire but never quite becoming egregious enough to be worth striking down and bearing the fallout the others would inflict.  Still Twilight was far cleverer than any elephant and more than a few nobles left without achieving their ends.

The whole spectacle just served to convince Luna that her idea of a few nights ago would indeed change things for the better.  However, she was not yet prepared and the time was not yet ripe so she shelved that thought and returned her attention to the court.

As Luna had been thinking court had been winding down and soon the last petitioner was leaving through the court doors.  The departing pony inadvertently let the doors slam shut with a crash, leading the doorman to grumble that it truly was not necessary to for the court doors to make noise every time they were used, and that he spent a great deal of time making sure that they could be opened and closed silently and he didn’t appreciate ponies rendering his hard work moot.

Together, Luna and Twilight departed the court for the princess’s study.  Twilight explained what she knew of the cause of her injury.  Then, with the aid of Sunlit Rooms, they finished off the affairs of state and put their minds to work researching both Celestia’s predicament and anything they could find on the Crystal Empire.

Poor Sunlit was run ragged making trips to the castle archives and when Spike joined them in the study he shared a long suffering look with the short of breath aide.  Alas, little progress was made that day and when evening fell they departed dispirited with the lack of success.


***


The next morning the dragons returned to court.

Spike was not in attendance, mostly because he still had not been told that a dragon claiming to be his mother had arrived in Canterlot.  Ordinarily the rumor mill would have quickly passed the knowledge along, but the light in the north had become the prime rumor before Spike could hear of the other dragons. Plus, Spike was not overly given to gossip anyway.

On the other hoof, the fact that Twilight had not told him was rather more surprising.  If asked, she would have claimed that it had slipped her mind sometime between the argument with Luna and gouging out her own eye.  This excuse would be true, but not the full truth.

As Twilight watched the two dragons slowly and respectfully make their way down the hall to the chair and throne where she and Luna sat, she forced herself to face the truth she was flinching away from.

In truth, she was afraid.  She might not have laid Spike’s egg herself, but she had hatched him and he was her closest family by blood and by sentiment.

The hatching of a dragon involved a sort of magical transference, an offering from the hatcher to the hatchling.  When a dragon hatched a dragon egg, a piece of soulfire budded off of the parent to light the soul of the hatchling, much like one might use a lit candle to light another.  Soulfire was the heart of a dragon.  It enabled a dragon’s fire breath and provided the energy to fuel their magic.

Since Spike had been hatched by Twilight, it was a piece of her magic that lit his soul and burned in his chest, making him a hybrid of sorts.  It gave him the kindness of a pony and allowed him to suppress his draconic instincts such as the urge to hoard, though those could come out under duress.  By his very nature, Spike would forever be caught between two worlds, obviously not a pony, but certainly not the same as other dragons either.  However, he had lived his entire life among ponies and so he was unsurprisingly curious about other dragons.  Many a night he and Twilight had searched through the Canterlot archives for records situations similar to his own, though nothing they found matched perfectly and they were never able to answer all of his questions.

It was due to the memory of those nights that Twilight, despite knowing the depth of their connection, couldn’t help worrying that the dragoness that had laid Spike’s egg might be able salve his curiosity and so forge a stronger connection to him.  Twilight dreaded the possibility that that dragoness might be able to persuade Spike to leave Equestria for the dragonlands to learn more about his kind.  Yet Twilight also couldn’t outright deny Spike this chance to learn about that neglected part of himself.  So, as the dragon’s made their way to the throne, Twilight’s gaze was cold but she held her tongue.

The shimmery serpentine blue dragon led this time and it spoke for the other dragon.  “Greetings, Princess of Night, Archmage.  May I present my companion, Iolite,” he nodded to the tall female purple dragon on his left.  “I am Simulacra Seven, commonly known as Sim.  As we were bidden we have spent the past three days meditating on our rudeness and now bitterly regret out actions.”  It’s voice high and androgynous, just shy of unctuous.  “Introspection is not sufficient, of course, to make redress for our transgression.  Therefore, we have brought a small token to demonstrate our remorse and desire to make amends.”

A glow suffused the scales of the blue dragon and when it faded a suit of armor hung in the air before it.  Overlapping scales, similar to those of a dragon shaped the back and connected across the spine, with two slits for wings to slip through.  Shell like, the scales wrapped around the body and would cover the wearers belly as well.  Strips of sharpened metal spooled around the wing holes, designed to fit over the edges of the wings similar to the griffon wingblades.  Greaves connected to the underside of the armor, covering the legs and ending in wickedly sharp claws.  A chest plate guarded the wearer’s front and an unattached helmet and neck guard with a hole and brace for a horn covered the head.  To a pony used to royal guard armor it was more elaborate, covering more of the body, and crueler, containing many sharp edges designed to attack rather than defend.

 It was also lavender with pink and green highlights.  And, just in case there was any doubt about who it was for, the chest plate had Twilight Sparkle’s cutie mark emblazoned on the front.

Pleased with the expressions of shock from noble, princess, and Archmage alike, the blue dragon gave a high chuckle.  “This armor is made from mithril, mined and forged by Queen Tiamat herself.  There is very little in this world, mundane or magical, that can harm the wearer of this armor.”  It tapped on the cutie mark on the chestplate with one long dainty claw.  “She wanted you, Archmage, to have it specifically.  I believe her exact words were ‘consider it an early birthday present’.  Does this meet with your highness’s approval?”

“A princessly gift, is it not, Twilight Sparkle?” Luna asked, nodding approvingly.  Court might have been confusing to her, but formal reparations for an insult tendered had been a common custom when last she ruled.  In the old days, a suit of armor as an apology sent the message that the giver was willing to see the receiver strengthened without any guarantee that that strength would not be turned against the giver.  Adding the cost into consideration and the suit of armor represented one of the sincerest forms of apology, like a stallion buying his mare a pony-sized bouquet when he knows that he has well and truly screwed up.  “It meets with my approval,” Princess Luna formally declared.  “Let it be known that with this gift the debt of insult incurred three days ago is balanced.”

“Yes, it is very nice.”  Twilight rose from her seat and stepped forward to inspect it more closely.  She did indeed admire the craftsmanship that had gone into creating the armor, but something about it seemed odd, above and beyond the incongruity of giving a suit of armor to a peaceful scholar.  She pointed to the wing holes.  “If this armor was made for me why are there holes for wings?”

“If you asked that I was instructed to smile enigmatically.”  The blue dragon shrugged.  “Please take my response as having done so.”

The wing holes were indeed strange but there was something else about the armor that was bothering her.  She gave it another onceover noting the beautiful familiar colors, lavender, pink, and green and it clicked.

“You knew,” she accused Sim.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You supposedly came here to find her hatchling,” Twilight said, indicating Iolite.  “And yet this armor, made for me, includes the hatchling’s colors as well.  This could not have been constructed quickly and in any event you have not yet seen his coloring.  Therefore, you and your queen must have already known that the hatchling was with me.”

A peculiar expression came over the Sim’s face, half grimace half smile as it turned to meet the burning anger of the enraged dragoness.

“Is this true?” she asked, danger coloring her tone.  “Did you and the Queen truly know where my hatchling was for all these years?”

“I-”

“You must have known.  Even I had heard rumors of the Archmage of the ponies and the strange company she kept.  How much more must you have known, you snake!”

“And what of it?” it said, sharply cutting off her tirade.  “You gave the egg to the queen mother to use as she saw fit.  It is only by her forbearance that you were permitted to come seek it out.  Would you scoff at her kindness?”

“No, I just…” she trailed off, the fight going out of her as she hung her head.  Desperation crept into her tone.  “I just want to see my child,” she finished scarcely above a whisper.

Twilight felt the hardness in her heart melt slightly.  Whatever scheme the blue dragon and Queen Tiamat had devised, and Twilight was sure such a plan was indeed in motion, the dragoness before her was plainly sincere.  She seemed a kindred spirit in her sorrow.  It was easy to imagine Princess Celestia taking Spike away after he had hatched, claiming Twilight was too young to live with a dragon or that her magic or his was too unstable.  Another life where she had been raised without her faithful assistant was too painful to contemplate and that pain pushed upon her an unwanted empathy for the purple dragon’s plight.

While Twilight was thinking Luna had grown curious.  “Before we rule yea or nay to your request to visit the hatchling,” she began, “we would know the terms by which your queen gave up the hatchling’s egg.”

A hint of triumph flickered so quickly in the blue dragon’s eye that none could be certain it was actually there.  It spoke with precisely the appropriate levels of surprise and confusion.  “But your highness, did you not yourself approach our queen and offer an exchange for it?”

Ponyfeathers!  Luna chastised herself.  Obviously, Celestia must have acquired it, how else would it have come to be used in an entrance test for her school?  But now, by asking I’ve made it clear that I don’t know and lent credence to their assumption that I am not the pony that bargained for the egg.  She thought fast for a way to hide the truth.

“Of course I did,” Luna said aloud.  “I was merely curious if the details of our exchange had been revealed to all dragons.”  Brilliant, what a perfect save Luna!

“Perhaps.  But regardless, surely you do not want the details revealed before your entire court,” it said, waving its claw broadly at the watching ponies.

“I see dragonkind still knows the value of discretion,” Luna said approvingly.  Inside she was cursing the dragon’s deflection.  Still, if Celestia had chosen to keep it secret it would be better not to reveal the specifics of the deal prematurely, particularly as she still did not know the details herself.  “I am somewhat inclined to grant your request, with certain restrictions.  Archmage Sparkle, this affects you far more personally, what is your opinion?”

“Hmm?”  Twilight looked up, startled out of her thoughts.  “Ah, yes.  I agree.  It would be appropriate to let my brother’s kin speak to him, so long as I introduce them.”

“Is this acceptable to you?” Luna asked.

The blue dragon looked about to object when Spike’s mother spoke up.  “Yes.  That’s fine.  Just as long as I get to speak with my hatchling.”

“Very well.  Then after court is adjourned you and Twilight will go to see the hatchling.  You are welcome to wait and observe the court in your role as diplomats,” Luna offered.  “Refreshments and jewels can be brought.”

Accepting the current situation, Sim bowed, though unlike the previous time its tail did not touch the ground.  “Thank you for your generosity, Princess.  We humbly accept.”

The dragons, were escorted to the side and servants were sent to bring whatever they might desire.  As they were getting settled Twilight penned a hasty note to Spike, advising him that they would be having guests after court ended.  A part of her wanted to tell him everything by letter to avoid the difficult conversation, but she knew it would be better face to face.

“Can you send this to Spike please?” she asked Luna in an undertone.  Luna, having been connected to Spike’s fire by Celesita, nodded and the message disappeared in a puff of green smoke.  That settled, Twilight turned her attention back to slapping down the impertinent nobles.  Unfortunately, her heart just wasn’t in it any longer and her eyes kept drifting over to the dragon’s table.


***


After court ended Twilight had no choice but to lead the dragons towards her tower and the baby dragon it contained.  They were all silent as they walked.  Iolite was clearly worried over her first meeting with her hatchling.  Twilight worried about Spike’s reaction to the dragoness his egg had originally come from.  Sim, realizing it was between two emotionally tense and magically powerful beings, worried about itself if it made the mistake of choosing to talk.

As the strange group walked on, Twilight’s mind turned over and over, trying to figure out how to break the news to Spike.

She’s your mom, Spike.  No.

She laid your egg, Spike.  No.

I’m worried you will want to leave me for your own species.  Definitely not.

Twilight dashed away the beginning traces of frustrated tears in her eye.  She forced her mind to keep working, everything was better with a proper plan, after all.

The phrases tumbled one after the other in her mind, searching for the right one to tell Spike what he needed to know without being harsh or driving him away.  And then there was no more time.  They stood before the door at the base of the tower she shared with Spike.

Moving on autopilot, Twilight opened the door and called up to Spike, “Guests are here!”

“Coming!” He called back.  A moment passed as the dragons made their way inside.  Spike finished with whatever task had been occupying his attention and appeared on the landing at the top of the staircase.  He froze as the dragons came into view.  “Twilight,” he said, a trace of fright in his tone, “what’s going on?”

Twilight opened her mouth, still unsure of quite what to say.  A large purple and pink shape shot past her up the stairs.  Before anypony or anydrake could move Iolite had swept Spike up in a desperate hug.  “My hatchling, oh my hatchling,” she sobbed over his shoulder.

“Twilight?” Spike’s voice skirled upwards with a rising note of panic.

Firing off a quick teleport, Twilight appeared on the top of the stairs where Iolite held Spike.  “She’s a… she’s your…relative,” Twilight managed, still stumbling over exactly what to say.  “Your egg came from her.”

“W-What?” he stammered.

Iolite finally released him and sat back on her haunches, holding his shoulders in her claws.  “It’s true.  It was for the crown, our version of your princess, but I’ve regretted giving in to her demands for years.  And now look at you!  So precocious you can already be left alone,” she practically cooed with pride.

“Is that not common?” Twilight asked.

“Remember that dragon life spans are exceedingly long,” Sim said, having followed the others up the stairs at a more reasonable pace.  “Most hatchlings his age would be considered infants, not yet allowed to leave their mother’s side.”

Some part of Twilight felt a guilty twinge of joy at those words.  She knew how much Spike relished the independence and responsibility he had earned.  Taking it away so that he could cling to the metaphorical skirts of a dragon he had never met would not appeal to him.

“But where are you wings?” Iolite asked, having examined Spike fully.  “They should have started to come in by your age.”

“Wings?” Spike had already looked dumbstruck at the sudden appearance of a dragon who was apparently related to him.  The mention of wings just sent him spiraling further into confusion.

“Of course, living with ponies you must not have had them opened.  Here, hold still.”  Iolite moved around to his back, one sharp claw extending with a snikt.  Her claw moved once, twice, thrice, and Spike cried out in pain.

Immediately, a purple glow surrounded Twilight’s horn.  Sim moved to intercept but his reflexes weren’t quite fast enough.  With a burst of energy Twilight broke through the natural anti-magic defenses of a fully grown dragoness.  Her magic surrounded Iolite and threw her away from Spike sending her tumbling backwards down the stairs.  At almost the same time the magenta glow gently surrounded Spike and pulled him to her.  She spun in place, putting herself between the two dragons and Spike, and prepared another offensive spell.

“Wait!” Sim called, raising open claws in a conciliatory gesture and pointedly making no attempt to reach for its magic.  “The hatchling has not been harmed.  Look at his back.”

Twilight eyed it suspiciously but it met her gaze without hesitation.  Not taking her eye off it she slowly backed up and spared a quick glance down.  There were two long thin vertical incisions running down the middle third of Spike’s back.  Instead of blood she could see traces of a leathery green fabric-like substance.  At his neck was a small horizontal incision which did bleed slightly.

“The cut as his neck?” she asked.

“There’s an innate blockage in a dragon’s nervous system that prevents them from using their wings when they are too young,” Sim explained.  “There would be a risk of permanent damage.  The parent removes it when the time has come for the hatchling to learn to fly.  Knowledge of this is not widespread because it is arguably a weakness, but as the guardian of a hatchling you have the right to know.”

She looked down.  “Spike, how do you feel?”

“Really confused.  Also it stings a little.”  He stretched, wriggling different muscles in his back.  “I feel like I can almost move something back there.”

“Pull his wings out of the slots,” Iolite called as she made her way back up the stairs.  A tumble like that wouldn’t hurt Spike, let alone a fully grown dragon, but Twilight’s success at using magic on her had clearly left her rattled and she regarded the Archmage with a newfound wariness and respect.

Twilight’s magenta aura carefully surrounded Spike’s folded wings and gently pulled the pair out.

“Hey I can feel them now!” Spike said happily.  The wings were dark green in color and wrinkled.  Though that was partially because they were wet, like the wings of a butterfly that had just emerged from a cocoon.  Twilight could see the muscles on Spike’s back tense and flex as he figured out how to move the new limbs.  At last he managed to fully extend the pair, just a bit less than his body length from tip to tip.  They were bat-like, with bony ridges along the top and long leathery folds that hung down in between three cartilage partitions on either wing.

“Awesome!”  Spike craned his neck backward trying to get a good look.

Smiling slightly at Spike’s exuberance, Twilight turned to Iolite.  “I’m sorry.  I thought you were hurting him.”

Iolite shook her head.  “I would have done the same.  It was a fitting reaction to somedrake hurting your hatchling.  I am pleased to know he has had such a guardian all this time.”

 Twilight bristled at Iolite’s use of the past tense.  She started to respond but the sight of Iolite cooing over Spike’s new wings stopped her.  Watching the two of them, so similar in appearance, talking excitedly about wings and flight like a mother and son gave her pause even as it wounded her heart.  As Iolite instructed Spike in the movement and training of his new appendages, Twilight couldn’t help but wonder what else of Spike’s dragon heritage that he might miss out on if he stayed with her.  And, on the other hoof, she wondered if she could bear to let him go.
> Chapter 7: Bonds
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Aren’t they adorable together?” Sim commented, its tail lashing idly behind it.

They undeniably were, much to Twilight’s dismay.  She and Sim were seated at a small covered table to one side of a training field for the royal guard.  Instead of soldiers at work, however, the field was occupied by Spike, Iolite, and Gilda.  Even as they watched, Gilda flew down and smacked Spike upside the head with her tail.

Spike growled in response and worked his brand new wings, trying to get enough lift to pursue.  From beside him, Iolite offered advice and encouragement with a wide smile across her face.

Gilda made another run, but this time Iolite’s claw snapped out and she pulled the griffon to the ground.  Twilight could just make out her words.  “And so the mother dragon brings home a meal for her hungry young dragonlet.”

There was a squawk and Gilda pulled herself free, her feathers puffed up in agitation.  Spike and Iolite burst out laughing and, after a moment, Gilda joined them.

“Well now they’re just rubbing it in,” Twilight grumped.

Sim laughed as well.  “You could join them, you know.  Though you would then have to forego my company to do so.”

“I wouldn’t mind that part,” Twilight snarked.  Then she sighed and turned away from the laughing trio.  “But I do want to give Spike the chance to form his own relationship with Iolite.  I can’t hide my own discontent from him, but that doesn’t mean I should let my dislike of her affect him.”

Sim cocked its head.  “Very wise and generous of you to give him that opportunity.”

“Yes it is.  So, distract me before I change my mind.  Surely there are diplomatic matters we should be discussing right now.”  Twilight glanced down at the papers covering the table before her. There was nothing truly important in the pages, she just tended to carry paperwork everywhere in court as a kind of security blanket, albeit a productive one.

“Diplomatic matters, hmm?” Sim mused.  “Isn’t there another pony who has a role to play in our diplomacy?”

It took all of Twilight’s self-control not to freeze at what Sim was implying.  She made a point of shuffling her papers casually.  “I can summon Luna if you have a serious matter to discuss.  Otherwise, as Archmage I am fully empowered to represent Equestria on the diplomatic stage.”

“Yes, I’m sure you are.”  Sim’s eyes were boring into her, but Twilight refused to give the game away.  “But I suspect you know that Princess Luna is not the pony I was referring to.”

Twilight met its eyes and narrowed her one.  “Let me be frank.  You and the griffon ambassador arrived on the same day.  You concocted an excuse to be here while they did not bother, but the obvious conclusion is that something else drew you both here.  Given the conflicts between all of our races in the past, you clearly believe there is some new weakness at the heart of Equestria.  I don’t know what you think you know, and I don’t care.  Between Luna and myself Equestria stands strong and to imply otherwise is an insult to your hosts.  Am I clear?”

Sim met her gaze squarely for a moment, taking her measure.  Some part of Twilight’s mind noted that she must have made quite the comical image, staring down a creature twice as a tall and ten times as large.  Size was no indication of power, though, and if push came to shove they were still within Celestia’s demesne and Luna was a shout away.

At last, the dragon dipped its head.  “Once again, it seems I must apologize for an insult tendered,” it said.  “I meant no disrespect.   I understand you are an accomplished scholar of magic.  If I show you a unique magical curiosity would you consider us even?”

Twilight wanted to say that, so long as it did not continue to press her, they would be square.  However, she knew that to refuse Sim’s repayment would itself be an insult.  “Alright,” Twilight said, letting her tone lighten.  “I’m always interested in learning more about magic.”

In answer, a blue glow surrounded Sim.  Twilight could feel it reaching for its magic.  A low hum seemed to come from deep within the dragon’s long chest.  After a moment, it opened its mouth and a blue glowing ball of something floated out.

It was magic; that much was trivially obvious.  The exact nature of that magic, though, was not clear.  Twilight peered closely at it as it hung above the table between them.

“This,” Sim declared proudly “is –“

“No don’t!” Twilight interrupted, shushing it.  “I haven’t had a good puzzle in ages.  Give me a moment to examine it.”

“Alright.”  Sim nodded.  “Feel free to take a look.  Nothing destructive, though.  It’s rather irreplaceable to me.”

Twilight couldn’t see magic directly the way Luna could, but any self-respecting Archmage mastered a suite of spells designed to analyze unknown magic.  She reached for those spells now.

Frowning in concentration, Twilight began casting spells designed to tease out the types of magic that comprised the subject before her.  That frown only deepened as answers began flowing in.

“There’s a huge number of spells in that thing, more than I would have believed was possible to fit into such a small space.  I recognize a few as being similar to puppetry spells of all things, but there are so many more that the overall purpose is baffling.”

Sim was smirking.  “Yes, it is quite grand, no?” it preened.

“”It’s not just spells either,” Twilight continued.  “There’s free magic bound in with the spells as well.  And I bet that’s not all.”  On a hunch, Twilight cast a diagnostic spell she would not normally have used, one that could detect the presence of immortal magic.  Sure enough, threaded through the spells and free magic were veins of immortal power.  “Yep, immortal magic too.”  She looked up at Sim.  “This is you, isn’t it?  This is your soulfire.”

“Correct,” Sim said.  “If I may ask, what gave it away?  You initially looked to be quite confused.”

In answer, Twilight closed her eye and focused on her magic.  This would have been nigh on impossible a scant few days ago, but with the way her mind was running now Twilight thought she could handle simultaneously casting all the magic she would need.  Slowly, a ball of power gathered in front of her and was shaped by the successive layers of magic and spells that were applied.

It took a few more minutes and no small bit of effort to complete.  At last, Twilight let go of her magic, panting from the exertion.  The ball of power she had gathered flashed once and then a small shape dropped onto the table.

“Dragon!” squeaked a tiny stylized replica of Sim.  Twilight had managed to get its coloring correct, but the shape was barely more than an ovoid half as long as Twilight’s foreleg with four ovals for limbs and a sphere for a head.  It wriggled in a circle in mimicry of Sim’s usual serpentine locomotion.  Every now and again it emitted another squeak of “dragon!”

“How in Equestria did you do that?” Sim asked.  It leaned down and peered closely at Twilight’s crafting, cast in a spotlight by the blue light of its own soulfire.

“The magic that comprises your soulfire wasn’t making sense.  I suspected that it was your soulfire from the puppetry spells, but I knew that would only be sufficient to make something like that little guy,” Twilight said, gesturing at the small figure on the table between them.  “I only understood where your spark of true life came from when I saw that there was immortal magic in there as well.”

Sim prodded the figure with one claw.  “That is still a very impressive bit of magic to do on the fly.”

Twilight shrugged.  “I was mostly copying what I saw and dumbing it down.  A few crafting and puppetry spells for the body, free magic based animation for the mind.  Keeping it all together was challenging but,” she hesitated, “I’ve been looking for ways to challenge my mind lately.  And I didn’t put much power into it so I expect- ah there it goes.”

Even as she spoke, the little figure gave one last defiant “dragon!” before dissolving into the lavender sparkles characteristic of Twilight’s magic.

Sim blinked then lowered its head and placed one claw over its soulfire.  “Goodnight, little brother.  I hardly knew you.”

Twilight chuckled.  “I could make it last longer with a little more power, but you know there’s no point.  It’s just a puppet spell at heart, not something that’s actually alive.

Sim pulled its soulfire back within its body through its mouth and looked up at her.  “I do know that.  I can’t help but wonder, though, at that small spark of immortal magic that separates me from it.  Tell me, Twilight Sparkle, when you looked at my soulfire did you identify the immortal that created it?”

Twilight shook her head.  “I’d need more time and focus to identify the immortal magic.  I do know the spell, though, I’ve had to use it recently.  If you don’t mind my asking, who was it that created you?”

Sim looked away across the training field.  Its eyes followed Spike and Gilda as the little dragon tried once more to follow her up into the air.  “That’s just the thing, I don’t know.  I told you that my full name is Simulacrum Seven.  I am the seventh iteration of this dragon simulacrum and each iteration has been different from the last.  I have been male and female, weak and powerful, sinuous and sturdy.  The full memories are gone, of course, or I could not claim to be a new individual.  But impressions of those past lives remain.  When the time comes it will be me that remakes my soulfire in a new form and gives birth to Simulacrum Eight.  This chain has gone on long enough that the identifiers in the immortal magic have worn away and with them any chance of knowing for certain who my original progenitor was.”

“You’re beautiful,” Twilight whispered, half to herself.  She had remained silent while Sim was speaking, caught up in wonder at the magic of the being before her.  A being crafted of pure magic.  Twilight had never thought it possible, but the very concept seemed like the culmination of what magic could be.  The ultimate link between the esoteric realm of magical theory and the practical world of real life itself.  More, Sim was self-propagating.  In a very real way Sim represented an entirely novel species, one whose very makeup was written in a language she could read.  Twilight itched to examine its soulfire in greater detail and she very nearly demanded that Sim bring it out again so that she could do so.

With a start, Twilight realized what she had said to the dragon ambassador and she hastily tried to correct herself.  “I mean, that is quite a story.  Your soulfire is an incredible piece of magic and I am very grateful that you showed it to me.”

Sim laughed.  “I am glad you think so.  The mystery of my soulfire is part of the reason I joined Iolite on this quest.  Oh, there is an official mission from Queen Tiamat, which I’m sure you’ve guessed at and which I will carry out to the best of my abilities.  But I’m also here because I wondered if Princess Luna might have been the immortal that first created me.”

“Luna?” Twilight asked in surprise.  “Why would you think it would be her?  Surely Queen Tiamat would be the more likely immortal.”

“Princess Luna is the most creative of the immortals,” Sim said frankly, turning to face her once more.  “Her music, her art, her crafting, all are the stuff of legend.  She has been rather restrained for the past thousand years or so,” it said with a pointed look, “but dragons have long lifespans and long memories.  We do not forget what she has made.”

“She would be pleased to hear that, I think,” Twilight said slowly.  “If you get the chance I suspect telling her that would make her more likely to answer your question honestly.”

“Indeed?  Well, thank you for the tip.  I will keep that in mind if the opportunity arises.”  It stretched its arms overhead and then rose up into the air.  “This has been an interesting conversation, but I’m afraid we really do need to get back to the embassy.”

Twilight rose as well, taking a moment to admire the seamless levitation spell Sim used to slither through the air as an alternative to an ungainly walk on its relatively short legs.  “This has been interesting.  I’d like to think we understand one another a little better, and I would enjoy a chance to examine your soulfire more closely once things calm down a bit.”

“Did it win you over by showing you its soulfire?” Iolite snorted in derision.  She, Spike and Gilda had walked over to the little table when they’d seen Sim stand up.  “It loves to show that thing off, takes it out every chance it gets.”

“It is a unique magical artifact and one that I was sure a scholar such as the Archmage would appreciate seeing,” Sim said primly.

Iolite rolled her eyes.  “If you say so.”  She nudged Spike with one foot.  “Go on Spike, don’t you have something to ask the Archmage?”

Spike took a step forward and looked up at Twilight.  “Hey, Twilight?  Can I go with them to the embassy?  Iolite says they have some equipment that’ll help me train and strengthen my wings.  And she said she’d lend me some books on dragon physiology that even the Royal Library doesn’t have.”

Twilight had to bite back a swift no.  That was the fear talking, she knew.  Instead she forced a smile that fooled nopony.  “Of course you can!  I want you to get answers to all those questions you’ve had that we never could figure out.  Make sure you’re back before nightfall, though.  I think it’s still a little early for sleepovers.”

“Thanks Twilight!”  Spike skipped forward and gave her a hug.  “You’re the best.”

Twilight ruffled his head spines.  Then she shot a glance at Iolite that clearly said ‘bring him back safe or there’ll be Tartarus to pay’.

Iolite met Twilight’s gaze and nodded her understanding.  “Come along now Spike.  We’re wasting daylight.”

As the three dragons left, the fake smile slide off Twilight’s face only to be replaced with a melancholy expression.  Gilda took one look at her and made an effort to cheer her up.  “So, how’s about you and me go find something fun to do, eh Sparkle?”

Twilight sighed and made her own concerted effort to push her funk away, with mixed success.  “Not right now Gilda.  I’m afraid this consumed all the free time I budgeted for today.  Lots of research and paperwork to be done.  Equestria doesn’t run itself after all.  Please do come by again though.  I’ve long since learned the importance of mandatory breaks and I’d enjoy the chance to get to know you better.”

Gilda shrugged.  “Sounds good to me.  Turns out being an ambassador is pretty easy so it’s not like I have anything better to do.  I even get credit for spending time with you, so that really works out.  Anyway, catch ya later, Twilight.”  Gilda took to the air and Twilight watched as she winged her way toward the Griffon embassy’s eyrie.

 Twilight looked around the empty training field and raised a hoof in sarcastic celebration.  “All foes are vanquished and the field of battle is all mine!”  She let loose a mad cackle that she definitely hadn’t practiced in front of the mirror.

“Did you need something Archmage?” asked a passing guard Twilight had overlooked.

She jumped and blushed.  “Ah, no.  Thank you sir.  Return to your post.”  The guard diplomatically choose to simply nod and continue on his way.

Despite the embarrassment of being caught monologuing, Twilight perked up slightly at the thought of all the research she was going to get to do and trotted off to see what could be accomplished with the rest of the day.


***


The next few days passed as normally as could be expected, considering the bizarre light that still lit up the northern horizon.  After court the next day, a Friday as it happened, Twilight busied herself with her appointed tasks.  Her own inclinations led her to prioritize the research into potential cures for Princess Celestia’s situation.  Since it was tangentially related, she also began organizing the ponies and equipment needed for a trip to the Crystal Empire.  It needed to be ready to depart as soon as the light faded away.  As a break, she’d spent a small amount of time looking into magical artifacts with an eye toward building a replacement for what she’d lost.

Gilda also came by, more than once, and while Twilight wasn’t sure if it was due to genuine friendship or an interest in being seen visiting the Archmage, she still enjoyed the visits.  In part, because they helped take her mind off of Spike’s conspicuous absence.

With Twilight’s blessing, Spike continued to spend his every waking moment with Iolite, drinking in everything she could tell him about what it meant to be a dragon and practicing with his new wings.  From her tower study, Twilight could often see him down on that same training ground where he’d first attempted to fly.  Every time he flapped his wings enough to hover, Iolite would sweep him up in her claws and take him on a quick flight around the castle, both of them laughing the whole way.  Spike being happy was good, but Twilight couldn’t quite put away the pangs of worry she felt every time she saw the two of them spending time together.

Luna, meanwhile, continued her own research, aided and abetted by Sunlit Rooms.  While useful, Luna was also keeping Sunlit nearby in the hopes of determining if the pegasus was in fact her sister’s wayward body.  That particular project went nowhere, but she made good progress on her own personal research and found herself nearly ready to propose to Twilight for feedback.

Despite her best efforts, Twilight’s research over the weekend proved rather fruitless.  Between the continual absence of success and the irritant of Spike’s absence, Twilight found herself rather frustrated as she opened court on Monday.  She settled into her not-quite-a-throne on the dais, prepared for a cathartic court session of being strict to the nobles and kind to everypony else.  The court usher was sent out to retrieve the first petitioner and then the door to the court slammed open.  Again.

They promptly rebounded off the springs she had placed behind them and smashed back into the offenders face.  The usher peaked his head through the door and waved in gratitude, evidently tired of ponies disrespecting his job and his doors.

The door itself swung open more slowly this time and a familiar pink shape, squished flat by the rebounding door, slowly peeled off of it and pooled onto the floor in a goopy puddle, blatantly defying pony anatomy.

A twinge of guilt ran through Twilight as she recognized the shape or, at the very least, recognized the antics.  “Pinkie?  You alright?” she called down the hall.

“Twilight!”  Pinkie Pie zipped upright, immediately reforming, though her face remained oddly flattened.  She rushed down the hall and dove onto Twilight for a fierce hug.  “We were so worried,” she sobbed.

Taken aback, Twilight slowly brought her forelegs up and returned the hug, awkwardly patting the other pony on the back.  “I missed you too, Pinkie.”

“And the rest of us, darling?  Or must we continue that dreadful fight?”

“Rarity!  Girls!”  Twilight exclaimed as Rarity led the rest of her friends into the hall.  She rose from her seat on the dais and ran to greet them.   Pinkie, whose forelegs were still wrapped around Twilight’s neck, flapped behind her like a flag as she ran.  Reaching out widely she wrapped all five of them up in a big group hug, paying no mind to the disapproving sniffs from the nobles.

“I missed you all so much!  There’s so much to tell you.  Once court’s over we can spend the rest of the day catching up.”

“Neigh, Twilight Sparkle,” Luna said, having trotted over to join the happy group.  “There is no need to wait.  I know this weekend’s work has been sorely trying for you.  Go, enjoy yourself.  I suspect you will work better for it.”

“Are you sure, Luna?” Twilight asked worriedly.  “Court can be pretty tricky, as you’ve recently seen for yourself.”

“Uh, Twilight?  She been the Princess for a pretty long time,” Dash pointed out.  “I think she can handle court for one day without your help.”  At that, Twilight’s concern only deepened.

“Explain the full situation to them,” Luna suggested.  “We might need the Elements of Harmony to resolve all of this anyway.  Besides,” Luna laughed, “the court will not fall apart without you in a single day.”

“If you’re sure,” Twilight said doubtfully.

“I am.”

“Then alright, I guess I could use a break and some time with friends.”  Twilight smiled.  “And come to think of it, I’ve got a pretty good surprise for you, Dash.”


***


“So let me get this straight, you were actually right about the Princess?” Dash asked incredulously.

The six ponies had departed the castle and made their way into town.  With the ease of long familiarity they had slipped back into following Twilight’s lead and they listened attentively as she outlined the situation while they walked.  Considering how often some combination of the six of them happened on some adventure, they were a well-practiced audience.  They gasped in all the right places and looked suitably horrified when Twilight explained how she’d lost her eye and what had happened to the princess they couldn’t remember.  The morning sun rose toward noon as they walked, heralding the bustle of a city come to life.  Despite the sensitive information she was conveying, Twilight didn’t fear being overheard, at least not for long enough for it to matter.  The hustle and bustle of Equestria’s capital city kept everypony moving quickly past, intent on their own business.

“I was more wrong than right about the princess,” Twilight admitted.  “I was right that something strange had happened to ponies’ memories, but I was wrong in blaming Luna.”  Twilight stopped walking and sighed sadly.  “That actually makes it harder in a way.  If Luna had been responsible then we could have just used the Elements of Harmony and fixed everything in one go.  Instead everything’s so tangled I’m not even sure if there is a solution, much less one I can actually find.  Most of the problems we’re facing now haven’t happened before, so its not like I can just find the answer spelled out in a book, you know?”

“I hate to interrupt your moping, Twilight, but where are we going?”

Twilight looked up.  “Oh right, sorry, Dash. I forgot you girls didn’t know where we were going.  Actually, we’re here.”  She raised a hoof, gesturing to the building beside her.  The three story dark stone building was a grand affair, even for Canterlot.  The top floor was open to the elements with an arching red roof over the whole structure, allowing fliers easy egress and ingress.  The other two stories were more traditional but strange grotesque statues ornamented the corners of each floor, glaring out at all who passed.

A plaque on the side of the building declared ‘Embassy of the Griffon Empire’ in large block letters.

“Griffons?” Fluttershy meeped.  “I’m not sure I want to meet any more griffons… not that they’re not perfectly nice… probably…”  She trailed off, but the nervousness on her face was at about a seven, where one was cuddling with Angel Bunny alone in her cottage and ten was ‘fainting goat noises’.

Protective, Dash stepped in front of Fluttershy. “Fluttershy’s right.  In case you’ve forgotten the last time she met a griffon it didn’t go so well, and that was one we knew.

“This time will be better,” Twilight promised.  “Besides I happen to know that there’s a griffon who would like a word with several of you.  Wait here while I bring her out.”  Without giving the others time to object, Twilight slipped inside the embassy.

The inside of the embassy was cool from the bare stone walls.  Directly before the entrance waited a griffon guard in full armor, wingblades extended and ready to deal with any intruders, like, say, Twilight.

She quickly held up a foreleg in an open gesture, demonstrating her peaceful intent.  “I’m here to talk to Gilda.  Is she around?” she asked.

“Pinion Gilda is not available,” the guard said brusquely, though he did relax his stance slightly so that he no longer giving the impression that he was on the verge of attacking.  “I’m afraid you’ll have to come back some other time.”

Twilight rolled her eye.  “The flag of your king is flying outside, which is only permitted if a member of the royal family is present, ergo she is here.  Now, I am the Archmage and as such I expect to be permitted to speak with the diplomats in my own city, not get held up by minor functionaries.  You will go get Gilda immediately and perhaps I will be kind enough to forget exactly which guard was foolish enough to delay me.  Clear?”

The griffon, perhaps recalling the rumors that the Archmage had dueled with an immortal and lived to tell the tale, elected to make a noise of acknowledgment that in no way resembled a chicken squawk and proceeded to scurry from the room.  A few short moments later the guard, his head slunk low in shame, returned trailing behind Gilda.

“Twilight, good to see you.”  The griffon lifted her claw for a hoof bump and Twilight returned the gesture.  “I thought you’d be too busy for visiting today.  What brings you to the embassy?”

“I was persuaded to take the day off against my will,” Twilight said wryly.  “But an interesting opportunity presented itself and I thought it would be worth involving you.  Are you free?”

Gilda shrugged.  “Like I keep telling you, I’m really just a figurehead.  Talon Grist does all the real work.  I’ll come along.  What’s up?”

“Let me show you.”  Twilight turned and gestured, leading Gilda out of the embassy.

The sudden light of the noonday sun blinded Gilda for a moment and she shaded her eyes with one wing.  As her eyes adjusted she could just make out a familiar blue pegasus.  Other ponies, less familiar but still recognizable stood there as well, but Gilda only had eyes for that one.

“Twilight, what is she doing here?” Rainbow Dash asked sharply.

“Gilda, I want you to meet my friends,” Twilight said brightly.  “From left to right that’s Applejack, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, and Pinkie Pie.  Girls, this is Gilda, the lead ambassador from the griffon empire.”

“We’ve met, as you know” drawled Gilda, taking refuge in sarcasm while she tried to process the unexpected meeting with her old friend.  “It didn’t exactly go well.”

“That’s why I thought starting over again might be a good idea,” Twilight said doggedly.  “You can’t tell me you don’t wish last time had gone differently.”

“I…” Gilda trailed off, not knowing what to say.

“Exactly.” Twilight nodded, freely interpreting Gilda’s noncommittal response in the best possible way.   “What do you say girls?  Are you willing to give Gilda a second chance?”

When no other pony was willing to speak up, Applejack offered her opinion.  “Way I see it, if somepony is being straight ‘bout startin’ fresh, then it’s worth givin’ them a shot.”  Applejack glanced over at the other members of the group.  “Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie are the ones she was mean to before.  If they’re ok with it, then it’s all good with me.”

 “Yay! I love making new friends.”  Pinkie hopped forward and slung her hoof around Gilda’s shoulders, proving once again that in her mind personal space was something best shared with others.  In an undertone quiet enough that only Gilda and Twilight were close enough to hear she whispered, “I’ll become quite the frowny face if you make Dash sad again.  I don’t think you’d like that.”  Her smile never wavered as she removed her foreleg and hopped back to the others, humming lightly.

Slightly unnerved, Gilda turned to Fluttershy and waited for her verdict.

The yellow pegasus shrunk back from all the attention suddenly focused on her.  She visibly took a deep breath and gathered her courage to say what she wanted to say.  “We never really got along, back at flight camp, did we?”

“Not really, no,” Gilda acknowledged.

“But even back then Dash would come tell me stories about how you and she had gotten into another fight with the bullies.  And I was glad she had somepony to watch her back and to do the things with her that I never could.  It wasn’t perfect, but it worked, and we each took care of our part.”  Fluttershy paused and gently pushed back her mane so she could meet Gilda’s eyes with both of her own.  Not quite to the level of The Stare, but with an uncharacteristic edge for the kind pegasus.

“And then you came to Ponyville.  You yelled at me, which was fine.  Well not really fine, please don’t yell at me.”  Fluttershy seemed in danger of clamming up but with a supporting nudge from Rarity she managed to continue.  “I get yelled at a lot and I’m scared a lot.  I can forgive you for that.  What I can’t forgive is that a few party pranks were enough to drive you away from Dash for good.  I mean, what kind of a griffon up and abandons their fillyhood friend over a few jokes.  Even I wouldn’t do that and I’m such a scaredy-cat they don’t even prank me because they don’t think I can handle it!”

Fluttershy was practically shouting by this point, for her, which meant that Gilda no longer needed to strain to hear her.  The fact that it was Fluttershy scolding her and she was standing there and taking it would have bothered the griffon a lot more before she found out that the timid pegasus had done something similar to a dragon.

“You’re right,” Gilda said simply as Fluttershy finally ran down.  “I never should have let myself be driven away from Dash that easily.”

“That’s what you’re apologizing for?” Rarity exclaimed.  “Not your poor manners or horrid behavior but that you had the good sense to leave when you weren’t wanted?  That was the one thing you got right!”

“Okay,” Fluttershy said.

Gilda blinked.  “Okay what?”

“Okay I forgive you.  I’m sorry, but I don’t think we can be friends.  Not that you’re not a wonderful griffon, I’m sure, to other ponies anyway.  I just don’t think we’d get along.   You and Dash got along just fine, though.  And I know,” she nudged the frowning Dash forward a step with her wing, “that even though she won’t say it, she’d be happy to have you as a friend again.”

Rarity shook her head.  “Fluttershy, dear, you really are too trusting.”

“Maybe.  But I’d be sad if Dash couldn’t see her friend again because of me.”  She turned with the others to watch Dash and Gilda.  “It’s okay with me and Pinkie.  The rest is up to you, Dash.”

Rainbow Dash scuffed a hoof against the ground and studiously avoided looking directly at Gilda.  Gilda, for her part, tried to look at Dash but the awkwardness of the pony overcame her will and she ended up dropping her gaze as well, a light blush staining her feathers.

“Come on Dash, say something already.”  Her words were pleading but her tone sounded angry instead.  It appeared that griffons did not do pleading.

“You know I’m no good with this touchy-feely junk,” Dash muttered.  “I’m just good at… Wait, that’s it!”  She perked up, the fire returned to her eyes.  “Let’s race, Gilda!”

“What?”

“Yeah!”  Rainbow Dash started pacing back and forth in her excitement.  “We’ll have a race.  If you win then we’re friends again and we forget about all the stupid stuff before.  And if I win…” she trailed off, thinking.

“Gilda has to dye her head feathers pink!” Pinkie Pie shouted.

“What?”  Gilda said again.

“Oh that’s a good one, Pinkie. You lose, you dye your head feathers pink.”  Dash got right up in Gilda’s face.  “That’s the bet.  Unless you’re chicken.”

Gilda’s eyes blazed, inflamed by the challenge.  “You’re on, Dash.  Name the course, I’ll show you who’s faster.”

“How about the royal pegasus guard obstacle course,” Twilight suggested.  “That should be tough enough for the two of you, and it’s well marked so there wouldn’t be any doubts about the winner.”

“Perfect.  Race you there!”  Dash took off in a flash of her prismatic mane.

Gilda watched her go and turned to Twilight.  “Does she have any idea where the course is?”

“Nope.”  Twilight grinned.  “She’ll be back.  Follow me everypony,” she called to the group, setting off back toward the castle.

“That’s so Dash,” Gilda sighed, a slight smile on her face.  “At least she hasn’t changed with all the world-saving she’s been doing lately.

As the five ponies and one griffon made their way back to the castle, Rarity trotted up beside Twilight.  “Is this really a good idea?” she asked in an undertone.  “Surely there will be problems at court if the griffon ambassador turns up with a pink head.  Which Gilda might realize if she spent any time at all thinking this through.”

“She’s been blatantly meeting with me privately to play up her connection to the six of us.  If she frames it as a way to draw herself closer to the heroes of Equestria and the Archmage the fallout shouldn’t be too bad.  Besides, I suggested the royal pegasus guard obstacle course because it was designed to be run by ponies in full armor.  Gilda should have at least a fighting chance since she’s heavier,” Twilight responded just as softly.

Rarity nodded, well understanding the political situation and willing to accept as given the intricacies of flight dynamics, though she still looked concerned.  “On the personal side, Dash has a tendency to fly away from emotional problems, though usually not so literally.  Is this really the best way to get them back together?”

“Look at the outcomes,” Twilight pointed out.  “Either all is explicitly forgiven or they have a fun race, dye Gilda’s feathers pink, and enjoy watching the courts reaction.  Seems like Dash has already decided to forgive her and just can’t say it outright.”

“To err is equine, to forgive is divine.  We could all use a little more forgiveness in our lives, wouldn’t you say, darling?”  A slight inflection on the word ‘forgiveness’ lent Rarity’s words an extra layer of meaning.

Twilight glanced over at the other pony.  In many ways Rarity was the subtlest of the six friends and even now Twilight wasn’t quite sure if Rarity was asking for forgiveness or signaling that she was willing to offer it if Twilight apologized for their earlier fight.  Or perhaps there was no double meaning and the word had been stressed by happenstance.  Regardless, Twilight suspected that this was Rarity’s way of offering to let lie their own squabble over the existence of Princess Celestia, something Twilight was more than happy to do.

“I agree,” she said carefully, watching for Rarity’s reaction.  “It’s best to let bygones be bygones.”  When a bit of tension relaxed out of Rarity’s shoulders, Twilight knew she had made the right call.

“Quite right,” said Rarity, smiling.  “Well it’s been loving chatting with you, but I really must make sure Fluttershy is alright after that meeting with Gilda.  The poor dear is so easily frightened.  Do make sure Gilda and Dash don’t kill each other, will you?”

“Will do,” Twilight confirmed.  Rarity nodded back and dropped back to talk with Fluttershy who was, unsurprisingly, bringing up the rear.
> Chapter 8: Insufficient Planning
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight was surprised to find that Rainbow Dash had beaten the rest of the group to the royal pegasus guard obstacle course.  She was less surprised to find Dash arguing with the gate guard.

“Come on, just let me in already,” Dash whined at the stoic soldier.  “I’ve got to prep for a race.”

“The royal pegasus obstacle course is currently closed to the public,” the guard said sternly.  “Visiting hours are Thursdays from ten A.M. to four P.M.  Please feel free to return then.”

“But if I win Gilda has to dye her feathers pink.  This is a matter of national pride, dude.  You gotta’ let me in.  Please?”  Dash blinked her eyes rapidly, trying and failing to channel Rarity’s skill at convincing coquettishness.

The guard snorted.  “You expect me to believe that the griffon ambassador agreed to that?  Pull the other wing.”

“Actually she’s telling the truth.”  Twilight and the gang had arrived at the gate.

“Archmage!”  The guard offered a bow.  “I deeply regret that you had to witness my lack of decorum.

“Its fine,” Twilight said, waving it off.  “But Dash, how did you find this place?  I thought you didn’t know where the course was.”

Dash shrugged.  “I just looked for the strongest concentration of weather magic around.  After the cloud stadium this place was the next strongest collection of weather magic so I came here.  Now tell this armored bonehead to let us in so we can race already.”

Twilight rolled her eyes.  “I’m sorry for my friend’s rudeness.  However, we would like to use the course for a short time.  Please allow us through.”

The guard hesitated.  Twilight recognized the trepidation on his face as the symptom of a guard that had been once been caught in one of her youthful shenanigans and was leery of allowing her to proceed now.  She gave him her most winning smile but somehow he just grew more concerned.  Memories of lab experiments gone horribly awry and a teleporting filly with no respect for boundaries flashed through his eyes and he almost managed to muster up the courage to tell her no.

In the end, Twilight far outranked him and he knew it.  Plus, things tended to go even worse for the poor guards foolish enough to try and contain her.  Sighing, the guard opened the gate and ushered them through, pausing only long enough to ask Twilight to please try and keep the collateral damage to a minimum.

Walking through the gate the group found a long low stone tunnel that tilted downward.  At the far end they could see a dim patch of muted sunlight but could not make out any details.

“Move toward the light…” Pinkie intoned, before ruining the effect with a giggle snort.  She got a few halfhearted chuckles but most of them had well developed Pinkie filters they used for just such occasions.  “Yeash, tough crowd,” she muttered.

At the end of the tunnel the light broke over the group and they caught their first sight of the Royal Pegasus obstacle course.  The group was at the bottom of a deep circular hole, not unlike a well, though it was wide enough for perhaps twenty ponies to stand nose to tail along the diameter.  The floor was the same cobblestone as the tunnel but the semicircle on which they stood was painted green and the other half of the floor was painted red.  Above them, wind tunnels carved into the walls sent gusts so strong as to be visible shooting across tunnel.  A few puffy white clouds drifted in the wind to provide obstacles and a line of angry thunderheads blocked a flyer from moving from the green half to the red half everywhere but at the very top of the hole, though the wind still passed through them. It was a complex arrangement and one that demonstrated the power of cleverly applied pegasus magic.

Upon seeing the course Dash gulped and Gilda grinned.  Her heavier weight meant that she was less likely to be blown of course by the winds while Dash would be struggling to stay on course all the way up and all the way back down.

Meanwhile, Twilight’s attention was grabbed by two of the other inhabitants of the course.

“Spike? Iolite?  What are you two doing here?” Twilight asked, leaving her friends behind and trotting over to them.

Catching sight of Twilight, Spike smiled proudly and laboriously flapped his way over to her on his new wings, followed swiftly by Iolite.  “Twilight, I can really fly!  It’s taken a couple of days but with Iolite’s help I can finally get off the ground.”

Iolite, not mother, he said.  Twilight took a small and rather guilty measure of joy that he was still using the dragoness’s name.  Suppressing her conflicted feelings, she answered his excitement with a smile. “Great job Spike! I know how long you’ve wanted to be able to fly.”

“He is a fast learner,” said Iolite with obvious pride.  “The gusts on this course provide him with a good challenge.

Twilight frowned.  “That seems dangerous for a dragon so new to his wings.”

Iolite shrugged.  “He is sturdy; a few crashes will drive his lessons home.

“Yeah, Twilight.  I’m dragon, nothing bad is going to happen to me!”  Spike puffed up his chest, going for manly and ending up only adorably silly at best.

“Just because you’re a dragon doesn’t mean you’re invincible,” Twilight said.  “Remember what happened to that dragon the girls and I had to convince to move?  Don’t make me bring Fluttershy over here.”

“Which one is Fluttershy and what did she do to this dragon?” Iolite put in, sounding more curious than alarmed.

“Fluttershy is the yellow pegasus over there.  She stared down a full grown dragon and sent him packing.”  Spike point over to the rest of the group.  “Twilight loves to tell that story because it always catches ponies by surprise.”

“Hmm,” Iolite hummed doubtfully.  Fluttershy was currently staring at the three of them from a hiding spot behind Rainbow Dash, trying to decide if Iolite was a small enough dragon to be interesting or a large enough one to be frightening.  As they looked at her she definitively came down on the side of frightening and ducked behind Dash’s wing.  “Perhaps there’s more to her than meets the eye?  Ah, no offense meant, Archmage,” she added hurriedly.

At her words Twilight’s hoof had risen to her missing eye but she forced it back down.  “It’s okay, I’m still getting used to it myself, and I can’t fault others if it takes them some time as well.  Besides, asking for everypony to refrain from eye based idioms in my presence seems excessive.”

An awkward silence fell over the three of them.  Spike looked from one to the other, obviously eager to have his birth mother get along with Twilight.  Once or twice he opened his mouth to speak but the glowers on both pony and dragoness intimidated him out of it.

Finally, Twilight took pity on the young drake.  “Spike, why don’t you go ask Rainbow Dash for some flying tips.  I’m sure she’d be happy to help and I think she’d appreciate having something to take her mind off her race.”

“Okay, Twilight,” Spike said uncertainly.  He screwed up his face with concentration and beat his wings fiercely, managing to take to the air once more.  With a backward glance he flapped his way over to Rainbow Dash.  As expected, she grinned the second he made it over and was off talking a mile a minute while Spike nodded along, trying to learn what he could.

Iolite walked up to stand beside Twilight as they watched Spike attempt to put Rainbow’s advice to good use.  “You don’t like me very much, do you?” she asked bluntly, but without the anger or sadness that might be expected to accompany such a question.

Twilight glanced over at her.  “If we had met under other circumstances I think I would have.  And I do thank you for the opportunity you’re offering to Spike.  However, I can’t help but feel you’re trying to take him away from me.”

“I am,” Iolite said simply.  “Can you blame me?  Imagine if your parents had lost you when you were little and found you half-raised by another species.”

Twilight shifted uncomfortably.  “I haven’t seen my parents in fifteen years.  After Princess Cele- Luna accepted me as her student I left my parents behind to live in the castle.  I remember being homesick the first day or two but spending time with the princess and my lessons with her quickly solved that problem.”  Twilight frowned.  “In fact, I don’t even remember their names or what they looked like.  That’s… that’s actually rather odd.”

“And they never tried to see you?” Iolite asked, disbelieving.  “I’d always heard that ponies were more emotional about their families than dragons.”

“Not that I know of…”  Twilight trailed off, trying to remember vague details about the time shortly after she’d come to the castle.  She’d been fairly little and caught up in the sudden rush of learning magic with the princess.  She’d been old enough that she should have been able to remember something at least.  “I guess I might not remember though,” Twilight said doubtfully.  “Or the princess might have prevented them from seeing me.”

Iolite shuffled her wings uncomfortably.  “You don’t seem especially concerned at having no connection to your parents.”

“You can’t have a connection to what you can’t remember.  The princess and Spike became my family and that was enough for me.”  Iolite winced and Twilight’s brain belatedly caught up with her mouth.  “I’m sure that’s not the case for Spike though,” she offered hurriedly.  “He seems to really appreciate a chance to bond with a dragon.”  Iolite perked up as Twilight’s jaw clicked shut, cutting off the stream of words as her brain caught up with her a second time.  She realized she was offering comfort to the dragoness trying to take Spike away from her.  It was hard, though, to keep from empathizing with the dragoness’s longing to know her son.

“Hey! You going to come watch me trounce the high and mighty Griffon bass door or what?”

Saved from her confusion, Twilight shouted back “that’s ambassador!” with the force of long habit.  She glanced over at Iolite.  “Shall we go then?  I’m sure Spike wants to watch as well and I suspect he’d appreciate it if we could at least be civil to one another.”

“That’s fine with me.  I’m happy with any time I get to spend with my– the little one,” Iolite said with a trace of regret.  The two nodded in truce and rejoined the rest of the ponies on the other side of the royal pegasus obstacle course.


***


“I still think that was a stupid call,” a bright pink Rainbow Dash grumbled as the tired group made their way back from the merchant district to the castle and the griffon embassy.

“You and me both,” agreed an equally bright pink Gilda.  “I totally beat you.”

“As if!” Dash cried, struggling to inject some fire into her voice.  “I was a full wing length ahead.  That judge was blind.”

“Just half blind,” Twilight commented with amusement.  “Besides, if my magic said it was a tie, then it was a tie.”

“Yeah, but—” Rainbow Dash and Gilda begun to argue at the same time.

“If you two don’t knock it off with the arguing, I am going to march right back to the dress shop, pick out the frilliest, pinkest, most lace-covered garments I can find and I will glue them to your hides, so help me fashion!”  Rarity glared at the both of them, panting, daring either to make one more sound.

Dash and Gilda glanced at each other.  Moving as one, they darted forward and wrapped Rarity in a tight hug, covering her fine clothes and elegantly coiffed mane in their still wet pink dye.  “Tag, you’re it!” they shouted and zoomed off as fast as they could, cackling all the while.

“Grrrr.  You two get back here!”  Rarity shouted after their retreating backs.  She looked down at herself and whimpered, “I’m so… so… so tackyyyyy!”

Twilight rolled her eye at the antics.  A quick thought brought to mind a cleaning spell and another sent the ball of recently removed pink paint rocketing after the two miscreants.  Twilight and Rarity shared a smile as a splash and a yelp could be heard from up ahead.

“Thank you, darling,” Rarity said, still sniffling.

“Aww, you should have kept it.  Then you and me would be twinsies!”  As the only one not tired from the day, Pinkie bounced passed with her usual boundless energy.

“You and I,” Twilight corrected automatically, though she’d long since given up on having any impact on Pinkie whatsoever.

“To-may-to, cup-ca-ke,” Pinkie replied, sticking her tongue.  “Hmm, that would be interesting.  I wonder if I could make a tomato cupcake.  But then what would I do with the avocado?  Gasp! Avocado toast and tomato cupcakes.  I’m brilliant!  Pinkie you created another culinary masterpiece.  Give yourself a pat on the back.”  Suiting action to words Pinkie did indeed reach behind her head and pat her back a few times.

Tuning out the babbling pink pony, Twilight and the group caught up to Gilda and Dash outside of the Griffon embassy.  The two of them were standing outside, shuffling in place and looking everywhere but at each other.  Neither seemed quite sure how to say goodbye or if they had resolved their problems with one another.

Twilight moved to resolve the friendship problem, but was stopped by Rarity.  “No, no, let them work it out on their own, dear.”

“Is that for their own good or because you’re enjoying the awkwardness as a form of revenge?” Twilight asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rarity flashed a vulpine smile.  “A lady never tells.”

Finally settling on a farewell that wouldn’t damage their respective reputations Dash held up her hoof.  “So, we cool?”

“We’re cool, Dash,” Gilda said, returning the hoof bump.  “Good to have you back.”  Then the pink griffon turned and walked into the embassy.

“Do you think we should go help her?”  Fluttershy asked reluctantly.

“I think more ponies would just make things worse.  Plus, the embassy is pretty quiet.  If she’s lucky she has until morning to think of some explanation before the other griffons notice,” Twilight said frankly.  “Besides, I’ve played hooky for long enough.  Let’s head back to the castle.  I can get you all settled in the guest rooms before I check in with Luna.”

Today had been a fun and relaxing day, Twilight reflected as they made their way home for the evening.  Spike and Luna had been right; she had needed a day off to clear her head.  Now as long as nothing had gone catastrophically wrong at court she could count today as a success.


***


“You did WHAT?” Twilight shrieked, uncaring of the late hour.  She was pacing in Luna’s study while Luna, her expression a mix of chagrin, excitement, and fear, watched the pacing purple pony from behind her desk.  Twilight’s friends had been settled in their guest rooms and Spike had said goodbye to Iolite and caught up with her soon after.  They had made their way to Luna’s study for a quick debrief before bed when Twilight had been informed of certain changes Luna had made at court that day.  Changes with which she emphatically disagreed.

“One day Luna, one bucking day of court.  All you had to do was not screw anything up too badly and it would have been fine.  Now can you please tell me what part of ‘handle court for a day’ sounds like ‘please dissolve the millennia old government that has sustained Equestria since time immemorial’?”

“I didn’t dissolve the whole government,” Luna protested.  “Just the Noble String.  And anyway I didn’t dissolve it entirely, I just changed how you become a member and required that all members be readmitted under the new process.”

“Making enemies of nearly every powerful pony in Equestria as a result.”  Twilight shook her head.  “What possessed you to require each member of the Noble String be elected by a plurality of votes from each district?”

Luna lit up. She reached into a drawer and withdrew the book she’d spent so much time with the past few days as she prepared to implement her plan.  “I’ve been reading—“

Twilight groaned.  “The ancient Athneighians, of course, I should have guessed.”

“No see look,” Luna gestured excitedly to the page.  “They had this idea that groups of ponies should each choose a leader to represent their interests in a national forum and that that forum should lead the country.  They called it a republic, though they preferred a democracy, in part because they were small enough that it was feasible for every citizen to vote on major legislation.”

“I know what a republic is, Luna.”

The princess wasn’t sure how Twilight had learned to glare so intimidatingly with a single eye in such a short period of time, but the effect was quite impressive.  Maybe all the ‘glaringness’ was concentrated in a single eye?

Meanwhile, Twilight had walked to one wall and gestured up at the large colorful framed map of Equestria hung on it.  “Luna I want you to look at this map.  This is Equestria.”

“I know what Equestria is, Twilight.”

Undeterred by the sass, Twilight continued.  “Lovely country Equestria, very well governed, or at least it was.”  There was that glare again.  “Now I want you to scan across this country.  Can you tell me what’s missing?”

“Ponyville is depicted without massive property damage?” Luna deadpanned.  From the corner of the study Spike stifled a snicker.

A muscle twitched in Twilight’s face but she soldiered bravely on.  “No.  What’s missing is any Atheneighans.  Their government lasted for less than 200 hundred years.  i.e. less than one fifth of your banishment and, based on what I know of early Equestrian history, at maximum one twentieth of the length that the Diarchy has lasted.  Now what made you think that that archaic and outmoded system would be a good replacement for the government that has been successfully in place for a minimum of 800 years?”

Luna flinched.  “I started thinking about what you said in that fight we had.  This seemed like a way to give common ponies more control over their own lives.  Besides, I thought you’d be pleased. I saw how much you hated most of the Nobles.”

“I do,” Twilight replied instantly.  “But by what you just said it’s been less than a week since you thought of this.  That’s not enough time to draft an amendment to the Canterlot zoning regulations, let alone drastically rearrange the government, especially without consulting anypony else.”

“I wasn’t planning on doing it so soon, or without talking to you,” Luna responded hotly.

Twilight slammed her hoof against the wall.  “Then, why?” she shouted.

Tensing, Luna opened her mouth to respond in anger, give voice to words hard to take back.  At the last instant she hesitated.  Some of the fight went out of her and she dropped her head and sighed.  “It was Blueblood.”

“Explain.”

Making her way to a cushion and falling into it, Luna took a deep breath and began.


***


In court, earlier that day:

Court is going well, Luna thought to herself in satisfaction.  No problems had arisen that she couldn’t handle.  The most recent petitioners, a city farmer and his wife requesting a ruling on unclear water policies, had left the court smiling.  Luna dared hope that court was almost over.

Then the court doors slammed open and sunk slightly into the stone either side as if the castle walls were made of jelly.  Luna assumed Twilight had removed the door springs after hitting Pinkie Pie and was trying a new method to prevent slamming.  As Luna saw the pony storming into court she desperately wished the springs were back in place.  She barely held back an audible groan as the court herald announced, “his highness, Prince Blueblood.”

Reaching the throne, Blueblood gave a jerk of the head that could charitably have been called a bow.  When he spoke it was with insistence.  “Princess Luna.  As commanded I have returned from my unfortunate exile to present my proposal for approval.”

“You will have to refresh my memory, it has been a rather long week,” Luna said, playing for time.  Scanning the crowd, she noticed a worryingly large number of ponies that Twilight had pointed out as belonging to Blueblood’s faction.  Fancypants’ followers were not similarly in evidence.

Blueblood smirked, “Gladly.  I have made a few changes to it in any case.”  He cleared his throat in an oddly effeminate and infuriating manner and unraveled a scroll to read from.  “Hem-hem.  First sections 3 and 4 of Canterlot shall be declared a special financial region, with all public spaces and buildings subject to development.”  He peered over the top of the page at Luna.  “Most public space in those regions is either park space or public housing.  Clearly it is being underutilized by those that do not deserve it.”

Luna was already spluttering with anger but Blueblood had returned to reading.  “Second the entirety of the ‘White-Tailed Wood’ shall be annexed as a territory of Equestria.  Note that this does not make it an official province and as such its inhabitants do not receive any rights or seats in the Noble String.  Further, no less than one half of the woods shall be cleared via the application of extreme thermal energy.”  He peered over the paper again, smugness filing his tone.  “That’s fire,” he clarified.  “This is to speed the construction of factories I and my associate Sharp Deals intend to set up.  Wave for the princess Sharp,” An altogether bland grey unicorn with a brown mane waved from the Noble’s gallery.

“Finally, I shall be given sole jurisdiction over this land in perpetuity to administrate as I wish.  Naturally, this includes leasing it to business associates and passing it on to descendants.”  Blueblood rolled up the scroll and sealed it with a tap of his horn.  “You agree to this, of course?”

Mouth hanging open, Luna met his winning smile with a look of sheer disbelief.  “You can’t possibly actually expect me to sign this.”

“The Archmage agreed to my previous proposal,” Blueblood said casually.  “And there are only a few small changes.  Surely you don’t need further advice for such a minor manner?”

Drawing herself up to her full height Luna snapped, “Indeed I don’t!”  A dark blue magic surrounded the scroll and set it alight.  Within seconds it was naught but ash upon the floor.  “That is fire,” she snarled.”

Still smirking Blueblood raised a hoof, signaling to the watching Nobles.

“I withdraw my support for the Canterlot utilities refurbishment project,” a brown pegasus with a light blue mane called.

“I withdraw my support for foal protective services.”  That was a yellow unicorn mare.

“I withdraw my support for the Canterlot public gardens initiative.”  A green earth pony, one of the few of his race among the nobles.

“I withdraw my support…”

“I withdraw my…”

“I withdraw…”

“I withdraw…”

On and on the list went, Noble after Noble seceding from their roles in projects for the city or the country.  Luna quickly lost track of the precise details but a few points remained clear.  If they followed through, the entire country would ground to a halt.  Most of the treasury would be drained just keeping essential services functioning and the damages would ripple outward, lasting for years, if not decades.  Other countries, already set on alert by immortal rulers that knew of Celestia’s absence, might well pounce on this sign of weakness.  War was not impossible and even the best case scenario would be nigh on catastrophic to Equestria’s economy and social structure.

The Nobles would not be spared the repercussions, of course.  Blueblood had apparently offered enough to make it worth their while.  He’d probably called in every favor he was owed and offered favors to all and sundry to make it happen.  As the Nobles began winding down she knew what was coming next.

Sure enough, as the last Noble fell silent Blueblood pulled out another scroll, a copy of his proposal.  “Naturally, Princess, all concerned wish to avoid the consequences of such actions on the part of the Noble String.  However, they clearly feel strongly enough to take a stand on this particular issue.  It is a heavy burden we of the String bear, being forced to follow our conscience, even if it sets us against our beloved ruler.  Please, won’t you reconsider your position?  For the good of Equestria?”

Leaning back in the throne Luna closed her eyes and thought fast.  She might hate the goings on of court but she was not a stupid pony and right now she needed to find a solution.  Sparing half a thought to wish that Twilight was there she sent her mind spinning for answers.

Say yes?  That would embolden the Nobles, convince them that they could control the crown by holding Equestria hostage.  Not to mention the damage the Blueblood’s proposal itself would do, both to Equestria and its standing with others.  Not an option.

Say no?  Then, if the Nobles weren’t bluffing, she would have to watch as they sent the country into a self-inflicted tailspin.  The damage would almost certainly be measured in millions of bits and thousands of lives harmed. Not an option.

Delay?  Twilight might have known a way to use court procedures to stall for time and bring in Fancypants’ nobles to minimize the damage, but Luna wasn’t as well versed in court minutiae.  Plus, this was their moment.  They had almost certainly been planning this for a while and they would know that a delay favored her and might proceed with their threat anyway.  Not an option.

That left executing her plan.

It was early, unready, and she hadn’t run it by anypony else yet.  She’d barely finished researching the subject herself.  But it would solve the current problem and hopefully future snags could be ironed out by Sunlit Rooms, Twilight, and herself.

Besides, she really wanted to see Blueblood’s face when she sprung this on him.

Luna opened her eyes.  Blueblood was still smirking up at her, confident in his victory.  Time to dent that confidence.

Reaching inside for the wellspring of power native to the immortal she covered herself with the aspect of a goddess.  Much like on the day the dragons had come to court shadows collected around the throne and the room grew dark.  Her eyes glowed with the cold flame of the moon even as her mane flowed, glowing with, ha, celestial brilliance.  A small part of her noted with satisfaction that a tinge of nervousness colored Blueblood’s face.

“THE NOBLE STRING IS HEREBY DISSOLVED,” Luna proclaimed in the Royal Canterlot Voice.  “ALL POSSESSIONS INHERENT TO THE NOBILITY ARE HEREBY NATIONALIZED.  THEY WILL BECOME THE PROPERTY OF THE NEW NOBILITY, CHOSEN BY VOTE OF THE POPULACE OF EACH DISTRICT.  THIS MARKS THE END OF THE MONARCHY AND THE BEGINNING OF A NEW ERA IN EQUESTRIAN GOVERNMENT.”

“NOW BEGINS THE REIGN OF THE NEW LUNAR REPUBLIC!”


***


The study was silent after Luna’s enthusiastic reenactment of the events at court.  Twilight was still dumfounded by the account and Spike, respecting her confusion, was doing his best not to laugh at the suffering of the Noble String.

Finally, Twilight mustered up enough coherence to begin asking questions.  “So what happened after that?”

 Luna shrugged.  “That was the odd part.  The Nobles all started pitching a fit, as expected.  But Blueblood silenced them and gave me a deeper bow than he had all day.  What did he say?  Ah yes.  ‘If that is the Princess’ will then so be it.  Come my friends, we know when we’re not wanted.’  Then he led his faction away.”

“That doesn’t sound like Blueblood at all,” Twilight pointed out.

“I did get the sense that it was out of character,” Luna said, nodding in agreement.  “And right before he left I could swear I saw him smiling.”

“That means he has a plan of some kind.  Hmm, how can we circumvent him?”  Twilight paced back and forth in the study.  Taking comfort in the repetitive motion, she turned her thoughts towards understanding the wayward white prince.  She muttered to herself as she walked.  “what about…no… maybe I could, but then, hmm.”

“Should I be concerned?” Luna asked, shooting a sideways glance at Spike.

“I’d be concerned if she wasn’t pacing,” he laughed.  “That’s her preferred problem solving method.  Give it a minute or two and she’ll have solutions.”

Sure enough, ninety seconds later Twilight stopped passing and snapped back into focus.  “Ok here’s what we have to do.  First you announce the revocation of the New Lunar Republic edict and-”

“No.”

Twilight’s motor mouth jerked to a sudden halt before resuming with added confusion.  “What?  No?  I thought it was pretty clear to all concerned that implementing a new form of government on the fly and with zero oversight is a bad idea.”

“Maybe.  But we’re doing this anyway.”  Luna placed her front hooves on the desk and leaned forward, looking intently into Twilight Sparkle’s eye.  “This is my change, my charting the course away from my sister’s path.  I am going to make it work and you, Archmage, are going to help me.”

Twilight’s eye glinted and her expression grew mulish, no offense, as she opened her mouth to respond.  Suddenly a shockwave, insubstantial to the un-magical but terribly real to the magically sensitive blasted through the room.  Twilight, Spike, and Luna all rocked in place as they felt themselves buffeted by invisible winds.

At last, and without warning the wind disappeared, leaving in its wake a peculiar calmness.  The world felt like it does after a furious storm, when nature’s energy is spent and even the air lies quiescent above the wet grass.

Guessing what had occurred, Twilight rushed to a north-facing window.  From her perch high in the castle on the mountain she saw that far to the north the great light that had shone these past few days had faded at last.

“So it has ended,” said Luna, joining her at the window.  “Is the expedition ready to depart?”

“Yes. I double checked my triple-check readiness checklist.”

Luna blinked in confusion.

“She checked it six times,” clarified Spike.

“That’s good then.  No sense leaving tired. We’ll have them depart in the morning,” Luna said.

Their conversation was disrupted by a sudden furious knocking on the study door.  “Princess!  Archmage!” came the breathless call of a royal guard.  He scarcely waited for their okay before bursting into the room.

“We are well aware that the light has vanished.”  Luna’s voice changed at the new presence in the room, she became colder, more standoffish.  Seeing the sudden contrast, Twilight was retroactively touched by the degree to which Luna had let her guard down when it was just the three of them.

“No your highness,” the guard panted.  “The expedition, it’s gone!”

“What?”  That had gotten Twilight’s full attention.  “What do you mean it’s gone?  I sextuple checked everything.”

“It was Blueblood,” explained the guard.  “And the other Nobles.  They used their personal soldiers to confiscate the supplies and left.”

The pieces started to fall into place.  “Let me guess,” said Twilight, “they headed north?”

“Y-yes,” the soldier stammered.

“Right. We no longer have the luxury of waiting until morning.”  Twilight resumed her pacing, moving faster than she had been before and speaking almost as quickly.  “You, guard, wake Sunlit Rooms and bring her here.  No, scratch that.  Wake her, tell her to come here, and deliver this message to Duke Fancypants.”  Twilight was halfway to the desk, intent on the letter she was to right when the guard interrupted.

“Wait, Archmage, there’s more.”

Twilight spun around.  “More?  Tell me.  Quickly!”

“The griffons and the dragons were seen leaving the city at the same time as Prince Blueblood.  Also headed north.”

The sound of Twilight’s train of thought derailing was almost audible.  Into the silence Spike asked in a small voice, “Both of the dragons?  Iolite left too?”

Spike’s circumstances hadn’t been made public, but stupid ponies did not become royal guards.  “Sorry Spike, the report said that two dragons were seen headed north.”  The guard’s voice softened as he spoke.

Reflexively, Twilight moved over to Spike and wrapped a foreleg around him.  The wheels in her head kept turning but she made herself spare a moment for her little brother.  “I’m sorry Spike, I know how much you were enjoying spending time with other dragons.”

Spike gave a whimper and clutched tight to Twilight’s front, not quite crying, just needing to hide his face for a time.  Twilight gave him a moment of her full attention, then the needs of the moment pressed on once more.  She looked up at the guard over top of Spike’s head and resumed giving instructions, albeit in a softer tone.

“Go to the guard station.  Get them to send a runner to Sunlit Rooms, Duke Fancypants, the Elements of Harmony, and Donut Joe.  Tell the first three to come here immediately for an emergency meeting and tell Joe I need enough coffee to pull nine ponies and a dragon through an all-nighter.”

“Understood, Archmage.”  The guard spun on his heel and marched out.  From outside they could hear the clip clop of his hooves on the castle stone as he broke into a run.

“You have a plan?” Luna asked hopefully.

Twilight gestured at the north window with the foreleg not currently wrapped around a baby dragon.  “You met Sombra the night your sister passed her power to you and vanished.  Then a few days later a column of immortal magic blasts out of the ground in the north.  A few days after that Prince Blueblood displays uncharacteristic cunning in getting the Nobles to rebel en masse.  At the same time, the first dragon envoy in centuries and the griffon embassy, possibly minus one, all head north, starting before the light from the immortal magic fades away.”  The purple pony shook her head.  “It’s too many events to be a coincidence.  I think we need to pay a visit to the newly returned Crystal Empire.”

“You want to leave Canterlot?  Now?” Luna asked incredulously.  “I just altered the government so severely that at least a third of the Nobles have risen in rebellion and you, my chief advisor, want to leave?”

“I said ‘we’,” Twilight pointed out.  “You need to come too.”

“I can’t leave now!  I-“

“It’s for Celestia.”  That brought Luna up short and Twilight hurried to explain.  “We need to bring Sunlit Rooms for the same reason.  We know there’s a lot of loose immortal magic up there and, if Sunlit Rooms is indeed Celestia’s body, then the immortal magic might be just the ingredient we need to bring her back.  And we’ll need somepony who can use immortal magic to test that.”  Twilight’s face took on a hard cold look.  “Also, there are the rebels, griffons, and dragons to deal with.  I want you and the Elements of Harmony because I want an ace or two up our sleeve to help deal with everything we’re going to run into up there.”

Luna nodded slowly.  “That does make some sense.  But I still don’t feel comfortable with both of us leaving the government unattended.  What kind of princess just goes haring off on adventures?”

“One, this is not an adventure.  I’ve had adventures.  This is chasing after rebels.  And if we happen to end up in a magically interesting place then how lucky for us.”  Gently disengaging herself from Spike, who had regained his composure, Twilight moved over to the desk and begun gathering writing materials.  “Two, that’s why I asked Duke Fancypants to come here.”

“I know you trust him.  I too was rather impressed with him when we met.  But is he really trustworthy enough to run the entire government, especially after his position was just taken from him?” Luna asked skeptically.

Twilight gave a short cynical bark of laughter.  “Ha, he’s a politician.  Not a one of them are trustworthy, and that includes you and me.  However, he and most of his faction take great pains to maintain a sterling reputation.  They’ll likely win a plurality of votes in any election and then, with Blueblood’s rebellion, they’ll be the only politically savvy and undiminished faction in the government.  You essentially just hoofed control of a good portion of the government over to the once and future Duke Fancypants.  He’s going to be the most fervent supporter of your plan and he’s certainly capable of running the government on a short term basis.”

“That wasn’t what I intended at all!” Luna exclaimed.  “I wanted to give common ponies some control over their lives, not replace a herd of masters with one.”

“There are going to be kinks in any plan, let alone a plan with less than a weeks’ worth of thought behind it.  So unless you’re willing to give up on this ‘New Lunar Republic’-”

“I’m not.”

“Then you’ll have to get used to the idea that there will be some unintended consequences.”  Twilight paused in her writing and fixed Luna with a serious gaze.  “So?  Are you in?”

Luna took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  She thought of her subjects, her plan, the changes she wanted to make and the renaissance of music and art she wanted to inspire.  Against that bright aspiring she weighed the potential life of her sister and in truth, there was no contest.  Mortal lives are fleeting, but siblings are forever.

The Princess of the Night met Twilight’s gaze.  “I’m in.”

“Me too.”

Twilight and Luna both looked over at Spike.  His voice shook and his eyes were still red but a determined light shone within.  “I have some questions for Iolite.”

“It will be dangerous,” Twilight said.  Not as a refusal, just a neutral statement of fact.

Spike shook his head.  “I don’t care.  There are things I want to know.  Besides, I’m sick and tired of letting my family go off into danger while I sit at home.”

Twilight’s smile was tinged with pride as she nodded.  “Good to have you, Spike.  Now, let’s put our heads together and see what we can come up with.  We’ve got a Princess to save, a rebellion to quash, and a lost land to explore. For that we need a plan!”

Plan they did.  The two ponies and the dragon were joined shortly by seven others.  They spent the night hammering out details and sending orders for preparations.  The whole castle buzzed with energy as ponies scurried through its corridors on urgent missions for the princess and Archmage.  Twilight was not called an organizational genius for nothing.

And so, come dawn’s first light, the company set out northward, bound for the Crystal Empire.



End of Arc 1

 
> A Sunlit Interlude
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Diary,

It’s been a while since I last wrote.  I’m not even sure what drove me to reopen these pages so late at night.  I was sleeping not quite an hour ago and then, quite suddenly, I was wide awake.  Something feels different, somehow.  The world is not the way it should be.

I don’t know.  Maybe it’s just the late hour making me feel funny.  I’m going to get some warm milk and see if that makes me feel better.

___

The milk is very nice, but it’s not really helping.  I just keep thinking about Selene.  I think I was even dreaming about her before I woke up.  Maybe something about the lullaby I used to sing to her when we were little?  I never remember anything about my dreams, so maybe the fact that that small inkling remains is significant?

Ugh, this isn’t getting me anywhere.  Yes, I miss my little sister, but there’s no reason I should be missing her especially much right now.  Couldn’t this have waited for the morning?

This is why I don’t like being up at night.  It encourages introspection.  During the day I could get some work done or go for a walk to distract myself.  At night it’s just me and my memories.  The dark conceals objects but it reveals emotions.

Hey that’s pretty good!  I should write that down.

Oh, right.

Maybe I’m not as awake as I thought.  I’m feeling a bit dizzy as well.  That subtle feeling of everything being off usually means that I’m coming down with something.

Enough of this.  I’m going to go lie in bed and hopefully I’ll get a bit of rest, even if I can’t fall all the way asleep.

Sincerely,

Sunlit Rooms


***


Dear Diary,

Princess Luna has been acting strange these past few days.  I mean, she did get attacked by the Archmage Twilight Sparkle in the middle of court yesterday, so that was odd too; but she was acting odd before that.

I practically had to drag her into court!  If anything, she’s usually the one dragging me.  She seemed really nervous about it too.  I can’t imagine why, she’s led court thousands of times after all.  Then she went haring off after the Archmage leaving me as the only official in court.

I had to tell all the members of the Noble String that court had ended for the day, all while they looked down their snoots at me for daring to tell then what to do as a commoner. I don’t know what they expected of me; it’s not like I could magically summon Princess Luna back to the throne.

After they were gone I had to do it all over again for the ordinary ponies.  Some of them had lined up for hours for the mere chance to be heard by Princess Luna.  A few even cried when I told them that court was closed for the day.

That was not fun and that is not my job!  It’s not like the princess to be so irresponsible.

At least the Archmage and Princess Luna did a good job of running court today, even with the surprise visits from the griffons and those two dragons.  It set my wings all aflutter when Princess Luna shouted down those dragons and made everypony kneel.

Ha!  Maybe that’ll keep the nobles from being too annoying tomorrow.  I doubt it though.

It seemed like there was some tension between the princess and the Archmage when I brought Princess Luna the court records and notified the Archmage of her meeting.  Oh well, I’m sure it will have worked itself out by tomorrow.

Sincerely,

Sunlit rooms


***


Dear Diary,

It did not work itself out.

I don’t know what the hay is going on with those two, but they need to figure it the heck out!

I’m sorry, diary, I shouldn’t use language like that in you.  It’s just been simmering in the back of my mind all day and I’ve had to hold it in because of course I can’t blow up at the Archmage or the Princess.

They apparently had not resolved their little spat and they both showed up for court anyway.  I had to spend the whole time trying to keep court running while they refused to even look at each other.

I was able to talk to Princess Luna privately after the griffon ambassador took the Archmage away.  I tried to hint to her that she and Twilight should really try and be better friends.  I’m pretty sure she missed that though, too caught up in her research and our discussion of political theory.

Don’t get me wrong, diary, I’m a bureaucrat.  Political theory is my life.  But there is a time and place for politics and a time for personal discussions – or would that be personnel discussions? Ha, I crack myself up – and this was clearly the latter.

Anyway, after that I was able to flee to the safe haven of paperwork.  I was so engaged in my work that it took Princess Luna raising the moon to snap me out of it.  Then something very strange happened: the princess asked me to join her for dinner!

It was really weird.  I’ve never eaten with the princess in my life, especially not just the two of us.  She asked me casual questions, like you would with a friend.  Honestly, it was weird to see her acting so, I don’t know, normal?

She’s the princess.  There’s supposed to be this unfathomable gulf between her and ponies like me, and there just wasn’t.  It made me suspicious and when I carefully asked her questions about it my suspicions only deepened.

Something is wrong with the princess.  From what she said, I think that she lost her memories and the Archmage is helping to cover for her until they come back.  Except the Archmage keeps overstepping her bounds and Princess Luna has to carefully put her back in her place.

I could be wrong, I suppose.  And Princess Luna did tell me that she and the Archmage are handling it.

Diary, is it wrong if I kind of like the princess as she is now?  She acts more like a normal pony.  She laughed with me over dinner and we ate cake and drank tea like old friends.  I’m sure it’s not fun being uncomfortable doing something you know you’ve done thousands of times before.  Still, her nervousness over court makes me want to take care of her, somehow.

Is it wrong to want to look after the princess?

Probably.  I’m sure she doesn’t need me, not for that anyway.  She has Archmage Twilight Sparkle after all.

Sincerely,

Sunlight Rooms


***


Dear Diary,

Archmage Twilight Sparkle is one scary pony.

Seriously, diary, I am actually very scared of her.

When I got to the castle this morning Princess Luna had me escort the castle doctor up to the Archmage’s room.  When we arrived I found out that she had somehow burned out her own eye!

Not that bad, right?  Sure, it was gruesome seeing her empty socket and all those cuts across her face.  And, sure, Princess Luna steadfastly refusing to tell anypony how it happened was somewhat alarming.  Still, injuries happen.  That part was maybe a five on the scary scaletm.

No the scary part was when Princess Luna sent me to check on the Archmage later in the morning.  She greeted me, cool as you please, just chatting like nothing was wrong.  Then she sent that little dragon of hers into a room with far far too many locks, fashioned an eyepatch, and marched off to court.

What?

What kind of a pony do you have to be to go right back to work after losing your eye?

I told you last time I wrote that I enjoyed seeing Princess Luna act a little bit more like a normal pony.  I think Archmage Twilight Sparkle scares me because she seems like the opposite.  She seems determined to elevate herself to super-equine levels through sheer force of will.

I’m just glad that when it came time to do research that Spike was there to help her, so I could focus on helping the princess.

Sincerely,

Sunlit Rooms


***


Dear Diary,

I was wrong.  Archmage Twilight Sparkle isn’t trying to become super-equine, she has already transcended the limitations of us normal ponies.

I’m sorry diary, you must be confused as to why I’m writing on a train in the middle of the day instead of before bed.  Let me explain.

It’s been a long few days.  I’ve spent most of them researching for Princess Luna and the Archmage.  However, that is the kind of work I’m used to so I didn’t mind it too much.  Before yesterday the world still seemed normal.

It doesn’t seem normal anymore, and honestly, diary, I’m scared.

Princess Luna dissolved the Noble String to form what she calls the New Lunar Republic.  I’m perhaps the least surprised of anypony since I’m the one that’s been bringing her all those books on political theory and the Ancient Atheneighians.

Still, I wouldn’t be a bureaucrat if I didn’t get nervous at the prospect of a change to the fundamental structure of the bureaucracy I serve.  It would have been okay.  I trust the princess and, as frightening as I find the Archmage, I suspect that the two of them could have made it work.

Unfortunately, Prince Blueblood has launched a revolution against Equestria.

Yes, diary, I too am shocked.  I didn’t think Price Blueblood could even spell revolution, let alone launch one, but he did.  And he stole the expedition the Archmage and I spent the past week organizing.

Of course, I found out about all of this via a midnight messenger the Archmage sent to wake me up.  That did not help my mood.

I am not a night owl, darn it.

That brings me to the new reason I find Archmage Twilight Sparkle so frightening.  We planned the previous expedition over the course of a week, with lots of input from various members of the government.

The Archmage put together a second expedition in less than twelve hours.

Above and beyond that feat, I think the truly remarkable thing is that she is fully capable of double, triple, and even quadruple checking her own work, no matter how out of it she is.  She found and corrected an error in the supply manifest on her third check at four in the morning.

I suppose I’ve oversold the ‘Archmage Twilight Sparkle is so scary’ thing.  I do find her a little intimidating, but it’s something else too.  She’s just so darn good at her job and that overlaps quite heavily with my job.

Look, diary, essentially, my job goes like this.  The princess tells me to get something done.  Outwardly, I smile and say of course.  Inwardly, I grumble to myself about how this task is so much more work than the princess thinks and that it’s going to take forever.  Then I go out and I work really hard and I somehow get it done.

The Archmage, on the other hoof, knows exactly how hard every job is and what the steps are to complete it.  She also magically manages to get things done in a fraction of the time that I, or any reasonable pony, would take.  I guess I’m afraid that as she takes a larger role in the government there won’t be any space for me.

The really sad thing is that I think Princess Luna feels the same way.  I was watching her last night, in between working my tail off of course, and at first she seemed so energetic.  I dared hope that this expedition and her Lunar Republic proclamation would help pull her out of the bad mood she’s been in.

Unfortunately, as the night wore on and Princess Luna watched the Archmage organize the expedition she grew quieter and seemed to draw herself inward.  By the time we all boarded the train Princess Luna was only speaking when spoken to and she’s been staring sadly out the window this whole time.

Diary, I think I have a choice to make.  I can serve as a bureaucrat to the Archmage, essentially fulfilling the same job as I always have for the pony in charge.  I’m sure even she could use an extra pony carrying out orders, even if I won’t be quite as essential or autonomous as in the past.

Or I can stick with Princess Luna.  I don’t know what she’ll need from me, but I don’t think it’s in my usual job description.

I think… maybe… maybe she needs a friend.

There are nine of us gathered in this train car as it carries the second expedition north: the Elements of Harmony, the Captain of the Royal Guard, myself, and Princess Luna.  She looks so alone though.  She’s curled on a bench in a corner of the train and I wouldn’t believe it was possible for a pony so large to seem so small.

I want to look after her, somehow.  I feel almost protective towards her.

I don’t know, diary, maybe this is the sleep deprivation talking.  The only reason I’ve written so much in you this time is that if I don’t I’ll fall asleep, and I suspect that Archmage Twilight has something she wants to tell us before that happens.

Ah, yes, there she goes, calling us over to the part of the train where she and her friends are gathered.  Of course, it’s exactly the opposite side of the train from Princess Luna.  Don’t think I didn’t notice that little power-play, Archmage.  I’ve spent even more time around the nobles than you have.

I do have to go though, diary.  It looks like I’m finally going to get the backstory to all of this.  Maybe with some answers I’ll finally understand why Princess Luna looks so sad.

Sincerely,

Sunlit Rooms
> Arc 2 Chapter 1: Stalemate
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight’s hooves pounded the cobblestones as she galloped.  Her full saddlebags bounced on her back, urging her on to greater speed.  Behind her the screeches and heavy wingbeats of a griffon patrol echoed down the narrow alleyway.

Panting, Twilight sprinted around a corner.  She reached for her magic, trying to fire off a teleport.  Unfortunately, over years of conflict griffons had developed techniques for fighting mages, even ones as powerful as the Archmage.  One of the aerial spotters shouted her position out to the ground pursuers and another put a blowgun to his lips and blew.  Twilight let the spell fade and dodged the dart, which, according to Gilda, was tipped with Mage’s Bane, a poison that inhibited magic and worked as a tranquilizer.  

Without time to gather the focus necessary to cast a complicated spell like a teleport, and without the power of Celestia’s demesne backing her up, Twilight was forced to keep running.  She did have the skill to fire off a few simple un-aimed bolts of force and was rewarded with a cry, though the other griffons continued the pursuit.  Combat spells simply weren’t her specialty and the griffons disrupted her concentration every time she tried to use free magic.

“Rainbow Dash better hurry with my backup,” Twilight muttered, as she rounded another corner. Convincing the loyal pony to leave Twilight so that she could bring back reinforcements had been difficult, but Twilight’d been confident she could keep ahead of the griffons for long enough.  Now Twilight was beginning to wonder if she couldn’t have gone without one or two of the tomes in her saddle bags.  With every step the bags seemed to grow heavier and the sharp edges of the books dug further into her side.

Twilight took pride in the fact that she was still on her feet.  Just six months ago a simple run across Ponyville had left her exhausted.  Now she could keep ahead of griffon soldiers without completely collapsing, at least for a little while.  Nothing like life in a stalemated warzone to force a pony into shape.

Another dart shattered on the stone bare millimeters from her leg and she started at the sudden noise.  It had come directly from the blind spot left by her missing eye.  Not for the first time she swore to herself that she’d look into getting a magical replacement as soon as things calmed down.  Which, she acknowledged ruefully, probably meant not for a long time.

Twilight swung her head from side to side, trying to minimize the area she couldn’t see.  This took her attention off of where she was placing her hooves and an uneven cobblestone sent her toppling head over tail.  

Even with the sudden fall Twilight managed not to lose her saddlebags and kept the books from spilling out.  Though as the griffons caught up to her, wingblades at the ready, having a full bag of books wasn’t exactly doing her any good.  The sharp edges of the wingblades swung for her and Twilight desperately reached for her magic, knowing she wasn’t going to make it.

She sensed a sudden swell of foreign magic and a magenta shield instantly snapped into place between the blade and her coat.  From further down the alleyway she heard the shouts of the royal guards.  The cavalry had arrived.  

As her soldiers marched forward, led by their captain with his blue helmet plume, Rainbow Dash and Gilda dropped from the sky on either side of Twilight. 

“Back off birdbrains!” Rainbow Dash growled.  “Ah, no offense,” she added, glancing over at Gilda.

“None taken.  Featherhead.” Gilda responded amicably.  “They can’t be that bright since they’re standing here staring down a full regiment of soldiers, not to mention you, the Archmage, and my humble self.”  She casually burnished a claw on her chest feathers.  “If they had any sense at all they’d be running off squawking like the chickens they are.”

“As if we’d run from you.  Race traitor!” snapped one griffon, evidently a squadron leader by the insignia on his chest.

Gilda’s casual nature dropped away and she stepped forward, raising a clawful of wickedly sharp talons.  “You want to repeat that?”

“Yeah, you’re real brave with your new pony friends at your back.  A ponylover like you can’t fight your own battles.”  The enemy griffon took a step forward as well, eager for battle.  However, another, wiser griffon grabbed his shoulder and whispered in his ear, indicating the rather large number of pony troops gathered in the alley.  With the soldiers to run interference Twilight now could cast spells at her leisure.  The griffons were outmatched and he knew it.

“Fine,” he growled.  “We’ll settle this some other time, claw to claw like griffons should.  Troops, move out!” he shouted and at his word the griffons took flight.  They wheeled about en masse and flew back toward the griffon war-camp.  The royal guard watched them go, frustrated that the rarity of pegasi in the unit prevented them from pursuing.  

Twilight, however, heaved a sigh of relief.  “Thanks for the rescue, Dash, Gilda.  And thank you captain,” she added, turning to the leader of the royal guard.  “I’m impressed you could move out so quickly.”

“That’s our job, Archmage.”  He removed his helmet, revealing a white coat with a two tone blue mane and bright blue eyes.  “Though I do wish you would stop going off into the city without a guard.  It makes it hard for me to protect you.”

“It’s important.  One of the books I bring back might help us figure out exactly what happened to the Crystal Empire.  I thought you military types were all about ‘gathering intelligence’,” Twilight teased.

“Information does no good if you’re dead,” he responded bluntly, still looking worried.

“As much as I hate to agree with Captain Twinkly over there, he’s got a point.”

“That’s Captain Armor,” he grumbled.  “Captain Shining Armor, it’s not a hard name.”

Rainbow rolled her eyes.  “Whatever.  The point is, even when you have a super awesome pony like me who can get back up in ten seconds flat you still should... should... should do something.  Yeah I kind lost that train of thought.”  Dash rubbed her head sheepishly.

“You were saying that Twilight shouldn’t be going scouting with just you for company.”  Gilda’s feathers were still puffed out and her eyes were hard.  “She’s right about that too.  I can tell you for certain that if they catch you it won’t be pretty.”

“Exactly.  If you won’t listen to me, listen to your friends.  As Archmage you are too valuable to risk so needlessly.”

Huffing, Twilight strode past Captain Armor, heading back toward camp.  The others fell into step with her, while the rank and file soldiers took up guard positions ahead, behind, and, in the case of the few pegasi, above.  “You might have a point,” she reluctantly allowed.  “But nopony else except Luna can read enough of the language to quickly select the promising tomes from yesteryear’s pop novels.  And surely you don’t want her exploring the city?”

Captain Armor shifted uncomfortably.  “I’d prefer neither of you wander about outside of camp, to be honest.  But if worst came to worst I expect Princess Luna has more combat experience and would be better able to protect herself.”

“Hmm.  I was just regretting my relative lack of combat spells.”  Twilight tapped her mouth thoughtfully.  Her eye happened to fall on Captain Armor’s cutie mark and her eyes lit up.  “I know, you can teach me.”

The brave captain of the royal guard actually stumbled in surprise.  “I beg your pardon?”

“Your spell shield blocked the griffon blade very quickly.  Plus,” she indicated his cutie mark, “it’s your special talent right?  If I had had a way to block those darts for a few seconds, I could have teleported out of there no problem.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Gilda put in.  “Griffons have a lot of experience disabling unicorns with projectiles since most unicorns can’t handle a good shield and an offensive or mobility spell at the same time.  I can’t imagine that would be a problem for you, Twilight, and it’ll catch them by surprise.  At least the first time you do it.”

“Well that settles it.”  Twilight flashed a bright smile at the Captain.  “Our first lesson will be later this afternoon.”

“I… I…” He sighed.  “I would feel better about your expeditions if you knew more defensive spells and my shield is one of the best.  I’ll teach you what I can.”

“Great!  Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to speak to my friends privately for a moment.”

A flash of irritation, quickly suppressed, crossed Shining Armor’s face.  Remembering the chain of command, he saluted.  “Yes Archmage.”  At his gesture the royal guard loosened their perimeter, moving just out of earshot of a quiet conversation.  With a last nod, Shining Armor dropped back to walk with the rear guard, since attack was most likely to come from that direction.

Turning to the one allied griffon for miles around, Twilight’s voice took on a worried tone.  “Are you alright Gilda?”

“Fine. Why?” she replied brusquely.

Rainbow pointed back the way they had come.  “Because usually when you walk you don’t crack the stone under your talons.”  It was true.  Cracks spider-webbed out from her talons as the sharp tips bit deep into the ancient crystal cobblestones.  “Plus your feathers are still all puffed out like you’re angry about something.”

“Angry? Why would I be angry?”  Gilda snorted.  “It’s not like I’ve been declared a traitor by my own species and can never go home again.  Oh, wait.  It is.”

“We know this can’t have been easy for you,” Twilight began, speaking carefully to try to avoid setting Gilda off.

“Easy?  You want to know what’s easy?  Easy is wandering through your empty embassy for hours wondering what happened to everyone.  Easy is only by the sheerest happenstance catching everypony you know as they’re leaving the city and getting the whole story.  Easy is realizing that your own race left you to be a prisoner of war and that the only way you get out of this with any honor is if they ponies actually do imprison and torture you.  Then at least if you somehow get free you’ll be welcomed back as a brave soldier.”  Gilda was breathing hard and her voice rose as she spoke until she was practically shouting in their faces, though true to form the royal guard pretended that they could hear nothing.

“You want to know what’s hard?” the enraged griffon continued.  “Hard is realizing that Talon Grist would never have acted this way without orders from the very top of the chain of command.  Hard is knowing that the order to abandon me has to have come from my own father, Warlord Aquila.  So excuse me if being reminded that my family is willing to let me die ruffles my feathers!”  At the last word Gilda let out a screech and slammed her talon into the wall of the alleyway.

Twilight and Rainbow Dash shared a helpless glance and Twilight walked over to Gilda to place a supporting foreleg on her shoulders.  “I can understand.  A little.  Princess Celestia practically raised me.  When it turned out that she had abandoned me for Luna’s sake I felt betrayed.”

Gilda shrugged Twilight off.  “Oh, what do you know?  This isn’t a simple friendship problem for you solve, Twilight.”

“Well, no.  It’s not, but…” Twilight faltered.

“Hey, we’re the ones who’ve stick with you.  No need to bite our heads off.” Dash put in.

“If I hadn’t met you I wouldn’t need some ponies to stick with me because I’d have the rest of my species,” Gilda snapped at her.

Dash’s sympathetic air disappeared in an instant.  “At this rate you’re going to lose your pony friends too, eggmuncher!”

“Take that back you brownwing!”

“Make me, chicken!”

As Gilda and Dash shouted increasing flight specific insults, Twilight silently counted down from ten.  Sure enough, as she reached zero the two decided they had had enough.

Dash wheeled back and leapt into the air.  “I never want to see your beak again.”

Gilda followed suit, albeit on the opposite side of the alleyway.  “Next time I see a rainbow I’ll vomit at the memory of you.”

With a last snap at each other they took off, flying at top speed in opposite directions, though Twilight knew they would circle around and make it back to the pony encampment.

“That didn’t seem to go well,” Captain Armor offered, trotting back over to Twilight.

For some reason, hearing that from the captain was even more irritating than it would have been coming from another pony, so Twilight’s answer was more cavalier than it otherwise might have been.  “Oh give it half an hour, they’ll be at the sparing yard beating each other up.  Another half hour after that and they’ll be in the dining hall stuffing their faces with the whole argument forgotten.  I’ve lost count of how many times those two have blown up at each other.”

“My soldiers are the same way.  I’ve lost count of how many fights I’ve broken up these past few months, especially recently.”  He shook his head.  “I wouldn’t say this to the princess, but I’m not sure how much longer we can last like this.”

“What do you mean?” Twilight asked.  “Sure things have been a bit tense, but waiting isn’t going to really harm anypony.”

They turned a corner, coming out into a wider boulevard that led directly to the pony encampment.  Captain Armor shot Twilight a disbelieving glance.  “With all due respect, Archmage, you aren’t a soldier.  Any soldier will tell you that the waiting is the worst part.  They have to constantly maintain combat readiness, not sure when the engagement will come and if they’ll make it out alive when it does.  This waiting especially, with no end in sight and no plan for moving things forward, is hard on them.”

“What about events like today?” Twilight asked.  “Going out in armor and staring down the enemy.  Doesn’t that bleed off some of the tension?”

“For a few of the more timid ones, maybe,” Captain Armor allowed.  “But for most this just gets their blood boiling with no outlet.  Watching the enemy fly away after getting all riled up just makes things worse.”

The foremost soldiers had passed inside the makeshift walls of the pony encampment and Twilight and Captain Shining Armor soon followed after.  They passed through the guard station and were greeted by the usual sight of ponies trotting about the business of keeping the camp running.  

“Look, I’m not trying to tell you how to do your job Archmage,” Captain Armor said before they separated.  “But the longer this goes on with no end in sight, the less effective the troops will be when they do have to fight.  Just keep that in mind.”

Twilight nodded firmly and offered a small reassuring smile.  “Will do.  See you at 1:00 for shield training?”

“That’s 1300 hours.  This is a military camp after all.  And yes ma’am, I’ll be there.”  With a salute, Captain Armor turned back to his troops and resumed shepherding them off to the barracks.

For her part, Twilight had much to think on as she made her way through the camp to her command center/library.

Upon leaving Canterlot her goals had seemed straightforward: help the soldiers arrest Blueblood and the other rebellious nobles, find out why the griffons and dragons had left so suddenly, investigate the returned Crystal Empire, and make sure Sombra was still imprisoned.  Not easy goals, necessarily, but straightforward.

Unfortunately, Blueblood had somehow stayed ahead of their pursuit all the way to the Crystal Empire, and set up camp in the crystal spire at the center of the city.  The same spire underneath which Sombra was hopefully still bound.  In addition, Blueblood had a military force that outnumbered the royal guard.  

In Equestria, each noble traditionally maintained their own military force and would work together when commanded by the princess.  Blueblood had managed to assemble the forces of the nobles that followed him and now possessed a sizable army.  Meanwhile, the royal guard, under the direct command of the princess, was the only fighting force that was both trustworthy and able to march on short notice.  Though better trained than most noble forces, the royal guard did not have the numbers to match the combined forces of a good third of the nobility, so they were counting on the overwhelming magical power of the princess and the Archmage to make up the difference.

As for the griffons and the dragons, their reason for leaving Canterlot had become painfully obvious. They each wanted to claim the Crystal Empire as their own territory and had received heavy reinforcements from their respective homelands to accomplish that goal.  Twilight wasn’t sure of all the reasons involved.  Presumably it was either to pressure Equestria by gaining a stronghold on the border, or to tap into the unique and still mysterious magic of the Crystal Empire for their own ends.  In either case, it could not be permitted, especially with Sombra on hoof just waiting for somepony to make a mistake and free him.  That is if Blueblood hadn’t freed him already.

All of which combined had led to the current stalemate.  The griffons, dragons, and Twilight’s ponies had each set up camp equidistant from one another in the empty capitol of the Crystal Empire and Blueblood’s forces held the spire in the center of the city.  No one side could be confident of defeating another before the third could catch them from behind. 

It was, Twilight mused, rather like a situation in chess called zugzwang, where the first party to move incurred a significant disadvantage.  The six months had been a back and forth between the three outer camps, trying to force the others into making a move.  Captain Armor’s words had convinced Twilight that they were nearing the end game.  One of the groups would have to move soon, and Twilight had to make sure it was not the ponies and that they were ready for it when it happened. 

Rarity met Twilight at the entrance to the command center.  Though the elegant white pony had not joined Rainbow Dash and Applejack in their military training, she had nonetheless found ways to make herself useful, particularly with her wide network of “fashion” contacts scattered across Equestria.

“Welcome back darling.  Tell me, was that you the soldiers were so gallantly dashing off to rescue?”

“Yes it was.”  Twilight stepped passed the other pony and withdrew the books from her saddlebags.  “So let’s hope that there’s something in these books that makes all the trouble worthwhile.”  She began skimming the titles and sorting the books accordingly.  “You can update me up as I sort, anything important I should know?”

“Come now, I want details Twilight, details.”  She tossed her mane impatiently.  “A daring rescue by Equestria’s finest should not be covered so brusquely.  Where’s your sense of romance?” she teased.

Twilight shook her head, still focused partially on the books.  “Sorry Rarity, but I don’t think we have time to waste.  Captain Armor helped convince me that we can’t last much longer like this.”

“He’s right,” Rarity said, sobering.  “Pitchforks and torches are in this season, darling, all across Equestria.”  As Twilight looked up in alarm Rarity clarified.  “There isn’t outright rebellion or rioting in the streets yet, but it’s not too far off.  Ponies want the princess, they want the nobles, and they want somepony to tell them everything is going to be okay.  They’re going to become quite brutish if they don’t get some reassurances soon.”

Resisting the urge to bury her head in a book and ignore the world around her, Twilight began shelving her finds.  “What about Duke Fancypants?  Isn’t he dealing with it?”

“As best he can,” Rarity replied, worry writ plain on her face.  “And far be it from me to denigrate his abilities, but he never wanted or expected to be responsible for the whole country.  Equestria needs her princess, Twilight.”

Twilight glanced up from her task to look Rarity in the eye.  “Be honest.  Knowing Luna’s whole story and current state do you really think she would be good for Equestria right now?”

“Well…” Rarity hesitated which Twilight took for agreement.

“Exactly.”  Twilight snorted and turned back to the books.  “Hay, without me here this army would have collapsed long ago, despite its importance to Luna and Equestria at large.”

“Nopony’s denying the work you’ve put in, Twilight,” Rarity said carefully.  “But you aren’t a princess and that matters to ponies regardless of what you or Princess Luna accomplish.”

“I know,” Twilight growled, slamming the last book into place.  “But what can I do other than lead when Luna won’t?”

The question hung heavy in the air, weighing on their minds as it must have weighed on the mind of the remaining princess.  With no easy answer Rarity reached for anything else to say to push the thought away.  Struck by inspiration at last she burst out, “I do have some good news though.”

Twilight raised her head.  “Oh?  That would be appreciated now.”

“It turns out that in the time we’ve been gone Ponyville has been attacked by no less than six different monsters.”

Rarity stayed deadpan as Twilight stared at her in disbelief.  Then she burst into laughter.  Honest laughter, though Rarity easily caught the undercurrent of tension.  She watched, nonplussed as her friend cackled to herself.

Winding down to occasional chuckles, Twilight wiped a tear from her eye.  “It’s good to know some things never change.  Thanks Rarity, I needed that.”

“I’m no Pinkie Pie but I do like to hear my friends laugh,” she replied with a little curtsey.  “Even if it wasn’t that funny.”

“I have to take my humor where I can find it these days.”  Twilight sadly levitated the last book into its place on the shelf.  None of her newly acquired tomes looked especially promising and as much as she’d have liked to curl up with them for the next few days, she knew she couldn’t spare the time.  Still she couldn’t help but slip one, entitled The Secrets of the Crystal Empire into her saddle bags, just in case a few spare moments could be found.  “I’m going to go grab lunch.  Want to come along?”

“Of course, darling.”  Rarity fell into step next to Twilight as the two left the command tent and headed for the mess hall.  The pony encampment was even busier than earlier and more than once they had to duck or dodge out of the way as soldiers carrying weapons or large pieces of armor shouldered past.

“Oh that’s right, your joke reminded me.  Are Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy back from their mission yet?”

“Not yet.” Rarity frowned.  “I know they haven’t been gone longer than expected, but I’m still a little worried about them out there on their lonesome.”

“I’m worried too,” Twilight acknowledged, moving closer to Rarity so she could squeeze passed an overturned cart.  “But we all agreed that it made sense at the time.” 

When they had first set up the encampment six months ago Pinkie Pie had not quite understood that leaving their area was dangerous.  She’d popped in and out at her leisure, picking up pranking and other party objects and generally being her inscrutable self.  Unfortunately, it didn’t take too long for the griffons to notice that a pink pony was showing up in the city without backup and she ended up being captured.

Three days later she’d wandered back into camp muttering something about throwing a party for the griffons.  Twilight and the others had tried to convince her to stay within the boundaries this time, but it proved unnecessary since the griffons avoided and seemed to be somewhat unnerved by her.  It was this last trait that had come in handy when Twilight had found a mission for Fluttershy.

One potential method of breaking the stalemate that Twilight had considered was starving out the other parties.  Truthfully it wasn’t a feasible plan with regards to the dragons because in the Crystal Empire the very buildings were edible for them.  However, the griffons were a long way from the Griffon Empire and there was lots of space for resupply trains to go missing.  First as a supplement and then as a primary food source, the griffons had taken to hunting the animals of the frozen tundra beyond the borders of the Crystal Empire.  The mountain goats were their most common meal but they’d also grab seals, penguins, even the occasional yeti when possible.

Twilight had hit upon the idea of sending Fluttershy out to ask that those animals leave the area to prevent them from falling prey to the voracious appetites of the griffons.  Without that food supplement, Twilight suspected the griffons could be made to cave in and leave, or potentially even join the ponies in exchange for diplomatic concessions. 

The problem was that Fluttershy’s best chance for success was going unnoticed by the griffons and so sending soldiers with her would just put her in more danger.  The number of soldiers necessary to guarantee her safety would also insure that she was found and lead to griffon reinforcements capturing her anyway.  So instead Twilight had hit upon the idea of sending Pinkie with Fluttershy.

Sure, Pinkie was unorthodox, but she was also notoriously hard to pin down and prepared for the most bizarre situations.  Twilight had sent the two off on their mission a few days earlier and was eagerly awaiting news of their success.

“No, I’m sure they’re fine,” she said aloud, mostly to reassure Rarity.  “After all, even I couldn’t get a handle on Pinkie and we all know Fluttershy has hidden depths.”

“If you say so, darling,” Rarity replied, doubt still clear in her tone.

“I do,” Twilight said firmly.  “Now, let’s go get that meal.  I’ll need it for my training session with Captain Armor this afternoon.”

“Is that his reward for the aforementioned daring rescue?” Rarity asked lightly.

“I hardly think trying to teach me a spell counts as a reward,” Twilight answered drily.

“Well it never hurts to dream, dear.”  Gossiping back and forth Rarity and Twilight headed off to the mess hall for a quick lunch. 

***

Within the boundaries of the pony encampment there was a single park.  Among the city’s arrow-straight streets, sharp slices of boulevards, meandering cobblestone alleyways, and hard crystal houses, the park stood out as the sole source of greenery.  The ponies, more used to greenery than stone and crystal, had erected a pavilion in the park so that everypony not on duty could go there for a little taste of home.

In the pavilion Luna lay on the ground, her eyes closed.  She did not sleep or dream. she was immersed in magic and music.

Around her were arrayed whatever instruments she could find or borrow from the other ponies of the encampment.  Woodwinds and percussion predominated because of the royal guard military band, but there were plenty of guitars, violins, a cello, and for some unknown reason a digeridoo.

It was not the orchestra she would have wanted, nor the one she had dreamed of when she was composing music on the moon, but at the moment it did not matter.  Her magic filled each instrument, giving wind, holding strings and bows and drumsticks.  She played them all simultaneously, a one mare band.

The piece itself had been written in the midst of the dreamlike haze which had filled her mind down through the long years of her banishment.  It had been meant as a tribute and a threnody for the four stars who had lost their lives to watch over her as she was interred in the moon.  

There had been no paper on the moon, no quill, and no ink.  Briefly she had considered using her horn to carve the notes into her own flesh.  Even as that thought had occurred to her she had known it was useless; if she began to cut herself for memory she would never find strength or cause to stop and whatever she wished to remember would be lost under layers and layers of scars.  Besides, playing as she was with dozens, maybe hundreds of instruments at once, no score ever written could have provided direction for all at once.  So it was fitting and right that she should play solely from memory.

As for the sound, it was… different.  The music held a strange unity for each instrument was in sync in a way that was impossible when played by many different players.  It held a certain mechanical perfection, as if played by a master after a lifetime of practice.  Indeed, Luna had spent many of an ordinary pony’s lifetimes studying music in all its glorious forms.  Though the precise nature of the instruments of this age were alien to her, the art of performance was not. 

Her expertise gave rise to beauty.  The melody rose, hauntingly somber, backed by rhythm and the steady heartbeat of the drums.  One of the soldiers waiting for the return of his instrument had tears in his eyes, and the drawn faces of the other waiting soldiers present in the pavilion gave testament to the power of the music of the Princess of Arts.

Luna opened her eyes.

Around her the instruments were released from her telekinesis and crashed to the ground.  The listeners recoiled at the sudden cessation of sound, like sleepers brought to waking with a bucketful of cold water.  Without a word Luna stormed off, paying no mind to the ponies that rushed to reclaim their instruments and examine them for damage.

“I was regarded as the goddess of art and music and beauty, goddess of all the finer things in life” Luna whispered to herself sadly, angrily.  “So why?  Why now that there is no overshadowing sister has my muse abandoned me?”

Though she had no destination in mind her hooves knew where to take her.  At her quick, frustration-empowered pace she reached the quartermaster’s building on the other side of the encampment in just ten minutes.  Unlike most of the other pony structures, the quartermaster had claimed one of the city’s two story abandoned buildings, claiming he need the space and walls to keep his supplies safe.

On the first floor stood rows and rows of wooden shelves holding everything from weapons to armor to food.  Behind a wooden counter along the far wall stood the quartermaster, a grey and grizzled pegasus by the name of Barrel.  His grim countenance lightened slightly as the Princess burst through his door.

“Good to see you again, Princess.  Here for the usual?” he asked, already turning to rummage in the crates at his side.

Luna paused in the doorway, jarred out of her funk by his quick question.  “uh, I am.  Thank you.  That is, thank you for always taking the time to get everything together so quickly.”

“Of course!” he responded immediately, adding under his breath, “not that I have anything else to do.”

Moving inside and allowing the door to close behind her, Luna idly scanned the shelves, looking for anything that might catch her eye.  When nothing proved particularly enticing she meandered to the front of the store.  “Why is it I never see anypony else in here?” Luna asked.  “I would have thought the quartermaster would be kept pretty busy.”

“Hmph.  Usually I would be,” Barrel groused, plopping a stack of large easel paper on the counter.  “But this time around somepony’s been doing my job for me.”

“Ahh,” Luna nodded in understanding.  “Twilight Sparkle.”

He snorted.  “Exactly.  She’s got some system set up where every regiment get what they need direct from the supply shipments.  We’d never do that because then things tended to go missing, but apparently that just doesn’t happen to the great Archmage.”  His eyes widened, as the realization of what he’d just said hit him.  “Begging your pardon, your highness.  I meant no disrespect to your student.”

“I know how you feel,” Luna offered with a rueful smile.  “She’s done much the same thing to me after all.”

Barrel glanced up from collection of paints he was assembling.  “You, your highness?  How do you mean?   Can’t you just tell her to knock it off?”

Luna leaned against the counter and propped her head up on her hoof.  “I could and she would listen, I think, but… Well let me put it this way, what’s the last order you recall hearing me give?”

“Uhh.”  Barrel’s eyes crossed as he cast his memory back.  “Probably back before we left.  I heard you changed the government somehow, something about the ‘Lunar Republic?’”  He shook his head.  “I don’t know, it’s all above my pay grade.  But that’s the last big order I recall you giving.”

“Right, that’s the last order I gave.  Ever since then it’s been Twilight’s show.”  Luna snorted.  “I wanted to set up something new, something different.  But that led to the rebellion we’re here to put down.  I just– I don’t trust myself to know the right choices to make.  Twilight doesn’t seem to have that problem and it’s easier to let everypony follow her orders than to try and give my own and risk ponies getting hurt because I screwed up again.  I want to help and I want to lead,” Luna looked down and her words came out mumbled.  “I’m just not sure I dare.”

For the first time Barrel was at a loss for words.  He raised one hoof awkwardly, wanting to offer some word or gesture of reassurance.  Before he could gather his courage to say anything Luna’s head rose, her face impassive.  “But that is not your problem.  Is my order ready?”

“I-,” he hesitated again.  With experience born of living with his wife and two daughters he knew Luna regretted saying as much as she had and would prefer he not mention it.  He sighed.  “I got your order right here,” he said, adding the final bit of wrapping to the total package.  “7 sheets of 140lb easel paper, 3 full sets of watercolor paints with extra blue tones, 5 brushes of various sizes, and 1 full container of masking fluid, just like last week.”

“Thank you,” Luna snapped, picking up the package and moving briskly away.  She paused by the door.  “Thank you,” she said again, more softly.  “For listening.”

The old stallion smiled slightly.  “Of course.  Everypony knows the quartermaster’s always there with whatever you need.”

Barrel could just make out a small quirk of Luna’s lips as well.  “I’ll remember that.”

***

Luna trotted into the mess hall.  She had dropped off her painting supplies in the building her soldiers had insisted she be given, despite her protestations that a tent would work just fine.  There was just time for a quick meal before continuing with her latest project.

The other ponies, especially her captain of the royal guard, had tried to insist on providing a private dining area for the princess, but this was one area where she had put her hoof down.  Since the ancient times Luna’s remembered on down through the ages, there had been a peculiar weight to the act of breaking bread together.  Luna was not going to allow herself to be isolated due to some odd idea of propriety.

Gathering her food, Luna scanned the tent for a place to sit.  Though she would, of course, be accepted by any table, there were many soldiers who would simply become stiff in the presence of royalty.  They would be too uncomfortable to converse with her or in front of her at all.

The princess had very nearly resigned herself to sitting alone when she spotted Twilight and Rarity at an otherwise empty table.  Luna almost went to sit alone anyway, but Twilight caught sight of her looking around and Luna refused to let Twilight think she was avoiding her.

Walking over, Luna slid onto the bench next to Rarity and across from Twilight.  “Hello Rarity, Twilight,” she greeted them both, tone carefully neutral.

“Luna, it’s good to see you out and about,” Twilight answered with transparently false cheer.  Still, Luna couldn’t shake the feeling that, below the fake cheer and below the sarcasm, Twilight actually was glad to see her out in public.

“How are things going?” Luna asked lamely.

“Oh fine, fine,” Twilight replied.  She waited until Luna had taken a bite of her hay and walnut sandwich and added, “I did almost get killed today though.”

Princesses do not do spit takes, though it was a near miss.  “W-what?” Luna stammered.  “What do you mean you almost got killed?”

Twilight made no effort to hide her enjoyment of Luna’s surprise.  “I was out trying to find books that might tell us what happened or give us some insight into the magic of this place when I was ambushed by a troop of griffons.  They chased me halfway back to camp and only the timely intervention of the royal guard saved me.”

“I’m glad you made it back okay,” Luna said sincerely.

Now it was Twilight’s turn to be surprised at Luna’s genuine appreciation of her safe return.  “Thank you.”

This is going well, Luna thought.  If this continues we might actually get through an entire conversation being civil to one another.  

Aloud she asked, “Wasn’t that reckless?”  Immediately after, she winced internally.  Drat, so much for being civil, she thought.

At first it looked as though Twilight would laugh off the jab.  “I thought I could teleport out if things got hairy.  It turns out griffons are used to fighting mages and didn’t give me the opportunity.  Unfortunately, I don’t dare let the dragons or the griffons get their claws on these books, so I’ll have to keep going out there.”  Then her eye narrowed.  “It’s a shame I don’t have anypony else I could trust to protect themselves and be able to find and identify the books that might contain important information.”

Luna winced.  “I can’t, Twilight.”

Twilight continued as if she hadn’t heard.  “Or if I had somepony else with the authority and ability to keep camp running so I could devote more time to these excursions that would help too.”

“I can’t,” Luna said again, her voice firmer this time.

“Why not?” Twilight exploded.  “You are a princess.  You wanted to take your sister’s place, to be responsible for the other ponies.  Why won’t you lead?” she demanded.

“You’re just so much better at it,” Luna remarked bitterly.  “After all, you haven’t made any decisions that led to open rebellion.  No, it’s better this way.  You lead until this situation is dealt with and then I’ll work with you to make the Lunar Republic a reality.  I’ve learned my lesson and until we can afford to go slowly and carefully I should not be the pony giving orders.” 

“That’s what you say.” Twilight leaned in, her face inches from Luna.  “But you know what I think?  I think you’re afraid.  Afraid you can’t measure up to your sister, afraid that you just can’t handle leading at all.”

“And what if I am afraid?”  Luna said, not backing down.  “I was the Nightmare.  I fought against the crown, against Celestia. What right do I have to rule?  And what would happen if the Nightmare returned while I ruled?”

“The Nightmare’s just a cop out,” Twilight spat.  “An excuse, just like your claim that the current situation is too tenuous for you to be trusted with command.  That’s what leadership is always like, Luna, making the best call with limited information.  No, I think what you’re really afraid of is something deeper in yourself.  After all, in one day you,” Twilight’s mouth snapped shut, barely catching words she knew couldn’t be forgiven.  She sat back and looked away.  “Never mind.  Its fine.  I’ll just keep running camp.  You go back to your creative distractions.”

“Say it.” Luna’s voice was low, rough with pain, but she refused to allow Twilight the diversion.

Twilight rubbed the back of her head with a hoof.  “I didn’t mean that, what I was going to say.  It isn’t true, you know?  I was just angry.”

“Say it!” Luna growled, urgency filling her voice, a need to hear the words echoing in both their minds said aloud.

“Princess Luna, she clearly doesn’t want to give offense.  Can’t you just let it go?  The mess hall is hardly the place for heart to heart conversations.”  Rarity said, hoping that by reminding them of herself and the rest of the audience that they would calm back down.  Unfortunately, neither pony acknowledged that she had spoken or even looked her way.

“Say it,” Luna pleaded.  “I need to know it isn’t just my own demons tormenting me again.”

Wincing, Twilight didn’t meet the princess’s eyes but she couldn’t deny the pain in the other pony’s voice.  Barely above a whisper she spoke.  “You did more damage to Equestria in one day as Princess Luna than you ever did as Nightmare Moon.”

Luna let out an involuntary hiss, as when some old wound where flesh is soft and bone is fragile is newly struck.  Or maybe as when some rotted cavity so long endured is first probed by the cold steel instrument of its extraction.

“It’s not true, though,” Twilight insisted, looking up now.  “No pony should be judged on their two worst days.  There is so much good you can do if you just work with me,” she said desperately, extending her hoof to Luna.

For an instant Luna teetered on the edge, but the habits of solitude and suspicion were not so easily cast aside.  Ignoring the proffered hoof, Luna stood.  “I find myself no longer hungry,” she said stiffly.  It was true, the food which once had been redolent with appetizing scents now smelled of ashes.  “We will speak again.”  On wooden legs she turned and mechanically put one foot ahead of the other, following any path that would lead away.

From behind she heard Twilight call, “Luna! Come back, please!  Just because we’ve both thought it doesn’t make it true!”

Luna did not stop, did not turn around.  The mess tent suddenly seemed suffocating, close and hot.  And if she turned around she would do something.  She wasn’t sure what, but something was building inside her, an emotion, an energy, a scream maybe.  All she knew was that she needed to get out.  Only the weight of a lifetime of dignity and the need to not alarm her soldiers kept her from breaking into a run, and that will only lasted until she passed the mess hall entrance.

She fought for calm, for control.  Her steps hastened.  She started to trot and then to gallop.  Her hoofsteps pounded on the crystal cobblestones of the empty city they were squatting in.  She stumbled, once, and almost knocked over one of her little ponies.  They’re so small, she thought irrelevantly.  Almost toy sized really.  And they were in her way.  Her dodges became slower, missing other ponies by the slimmest of margins.  Only when a small green earth pony had to literally dive out of the way to keep from being stepped on did the realization of her carelessness penetrate the fog in her thoughts.

With a leap that shattered crystal underhoof Luna took to the air and began winding her way between the buildings.  Now at least she knew she needed to avoid the obstacles, even she wouldn’t escape from a head on collision with a building unscathed.  Her wings beat franticly, far faster than needed to keep her airborne, but a nervous energy filled her veins and she needed to move her body, wings, legs, anything.

Luna swept down on to the balcony of her dwelling, landing in a gust of air that would have knocked over observers, if there had been any.  But there were not.  This was her space, for now, she was safe here behind the uncaring, unseeing, unneedful crystal walls.

Through the grand double doors, she strode, slamming them behind her, through the corridor, up the stairs, until she reached her destination.  It was a wide airy room, with one entire wall of clear crystal and a skylight so that the very air glowed with the radiance of sun or moon or stars passed through brightest crystal.  

Here, Luna painted.

With a flick of magic she snatched one of her recently purchased papers from their stack and stapled it to her easel.  Another flick set water flowing into a basin set into the wall on the far side of the room.  Still another unpackaged all the brushes and lifted them, each levitated in its own precise telekinetic grip.  Her paints came next, dabbed onto the palette and mixed with water.  Her brushes dipped in the paints and she began.

Princess Luna, goddess of art and music and beauty, painted.  Her brushes danced across the canvas, all five moving at once.  Her eyes stared unseeing at the canvas, perceiving only the subject in her mind’s eye, a subject with which she was intimately acquainted.  Paint splattered the room from her wild strokes, blending with her coat when it landed on her.

Her painting was quick, but deliberate.  Each stroke measured and tapered as with a master’s patient perfect execution.  No observer could know that, for Luna painted faster than any mortal master could, maintaining that perfect focus on five different brushes at speeds that blurred the eye.  She threw off the mortal limitations of art and produced with the experience of countless lifetimes and the magical power of an alicorn.

Finally, her brushes began to slow, dropping off one by one as their role was fulfilled.  At last, only the littlest brush was left, adding small dots of white.  As it fell from her grasp to the floor she closed her eyes.  

Please, she prayed though she had nothing and no pony to pray to.  

Please.

Luna opened her eyes and found the Nightmare.

A low moan escaped her lips.  Tearing her eyes from the painting she lifted it with her magic and dragged it into the next room.  That room was a long corridor, the walls utterly opaque, and the floor a deep ruby red.  She walked down the corridor, past self-portrait after self-portrait.  Not all were of the Nightmare, though most were.  Some few, especially near the beginning, were of herself as a young filly, the way she had looked right after returning from the moon with the coat of light blue and the mane simply hair instead of ethereal space and stars.

Reaching an open space on the wall she turned her magic on the painting and pressed it into the crystal, embedding it so deeply and seamlessly that only the destruction of the wall could remove it.

Turning, Luna gazed down the long hallway at the one hundred and eighty self-portraits.  She had painted one every single day since they had come to the Crystal Empire.  Initially, she had used a mirror, but her own features were easy to remember.  And besides, the accuracy of the image in her head never made any difference.

One hundred and eighty self-portraits and not a single one looked like her.

Princess Luna sank to the floor of her hall of imperfect mirrors and cried.
> Arc 2 Chapter 2: Mistimed Words
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight stormed across the crystal cobblestones, ignoring the ponies that scrambled out of her way.  “I’m tired of it.  I’m sick and tired of dealing with that pony’s neurosis.  I mean really,” she said, wheeling on a bemused Rarity.  “What the hay was I supposed to do?  I told her she didn’t want to hear it.  I told her it wasn’t even true, but she still made me say it!”

“You’re being a bit unkind, don’t you think, darling?” Rarity asked, her tone soothing.

“No,” Twilight growled stubbornly.  “We fight practically every time we run into one another. It’s not unkind to say that she should be doing her part running this camp.  Instead she’s hiding in her room out of a stupid misplaced sense of guilt for something that obviously wasn’t even her fault in the first place.  I shouldn’t have to tiptoe around the neurosis of the only other pony in camp who should be able to actually lead.”

Troubled by Twilight’s words, Rarity frowned.  “Twilight, that’s what friends do, they’re willing to look past your foibles and set free the better pony buried beneath.”

“Wow, Rarity that was pretty sappy,” Twilight snarked.

“Hmph, case in point,” Rarity said, flipping her hair.  “I am going to look past that uncouth remark and continuing telling you the things you need to hear. 

Rarity pulled Twilight to a stop in the shade of an awning out of the way of the main thoroughfare.  “Seriously, Twilight.”  “You and Princess Luna are very much alike.  The difference is you have us and she only has you.  You’re not used to being the sane and stable friend.”

“Come on.  I’m not that hard to deal with,” Twilight protested.

Rarity raised an eyebrow.  “Smartypants Incident. Remember that one?”

“Alright, point taken,” Twilight admitted, wincing.

“No, actually, I don’t think you have quite taken the point.”  Rarity glared at Twilight.  “Ever since we got here you’ve been ordering us all around.  You have Applejack and Rainbow Dash training with the military from sun up to sundown.  You’ve been treating me like some kind of secretary.  You have Spike off on some secret errand.  And you sent Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy of all ponies on a dangerous mission surrounded by ghastly dragons and beastly griffons.  None of us have seen our families or homes in six months because of you.”  Rarity’s voice was tightly controlled as she spoke, but her anger bled through and having it pointed at her made Twilight feel very small indeed.

“I, I–” Twilight began, scrambling for some kind of apology.  Rarity held up a hoof.

“No, let me finish. You’ve done all that and you know what?  We’re your friends anyway.  All of us trust that you wouldn’t ask this of us without a good reason.  Because that’s what friends do.”  Rarity stepped forward and slung a leg across Twilight’s shoulders.  “You said Princess Luna had been alone for 1000 years.  I would guess the poor dear could really use somepony willing to trust her like that.  Be firm with her when she needs it, by all means, but remember to be kind to her as well.”

Twilight still looked a little shell shocked, but after Rarity had stopped attacking and actually made her point the panicky feeling began to die down.  She took a deep breath in and brought her hoof up to her chest.  Breathing out, she slowly gestured out, imaging pushing all the stress away.  After a few repetitions she felt centered enough to actually consider what Rarity had said with a clear mind.

The other pony was right, she realized, at least to a certain extent.  Having Applejack and Rainbow Dash train with the soldiers had been a common sense way to keep them busy, and Applejack had appreciated the opportunity to follow in her parents’ hoofsteps.  Rarity was well suited to helping out in administration, though Twilight could stand to treat her more like a friend and less like an employee.  But no matter how Twilight thought it though she couldn’t explain away sending Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie out of camp.  Even if Pinkie was, well, Pinkie, with all the strange abilities that entailed, Fluttershy certainly shouldn’t have been put in that much danger.

Luna was a thornier matter.  Still, Twilight cast her mind back to the isolation she had endured before leaving Canterlot the first time, when she had not even understood how lonely she was. She tried to multiply that pain across a thousand years of loneliness and found that she couldn’t.  Even with her prodigious mental abilities that span of time defied imagination, and emotions were notoriously difficult to multiply in any case.  However, she didn’t have to be able to calculate pain to the nth degree to understand and appreciate the root cause of another pony’s pain.

Looking up, Twilight offered a feeble smile to Rarity’s firm but sympathetic gaze.  “Thanks, Rarity.  I needed somepony to talk some sense into me.  I won’t send Fluttershy or Pinkie outside the camp again.  And I’ll try and be more understanding of Luna.”

“I’m just repeating what you told me when you sent Spike off.  ‘A little diplomacy goes a long way’ wasn’t that it, dear?  Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a few minor tasks that require my attention.”  Rarity stepped back and turned to go.  “You go have fun playing with your heroic rescuer,” she teased, trotting off into the crowds.

“And I’ll try to be nicer to you too!” Twilight called after the departing pony, receiving an elegant wave in return.  With one last deep breath she hauled herself to her feet and headed toward her appointment with the captain.


***


It turned out that training grounds and soldiers hadn’t changed that much in the 1000 years since the disappearance of the crystal empire; possibly because there just wasn’t that much to change.  The training ground was a wide open space with sections of sand, dirt, and grass to let soldiers practice working on different types of terrain.  They had set up training dummies, and racks of weapons and armor surrounded the space.

Twilight walked across the grass and over to the dirt where the captain waited.  Something of Twilight’s inner turmoil must have showed on her face because Shining Armor asked what was amiss as soon as she was within earshot.

“Nothing.  Or not nothing, but it’s a personal issue rather than something to do with the camp.” Twilight shook her head.  “However, I could really use a good distraction right now and I can’t think of anything better than learning a new spell. So let’s get started.”

Shining Armor blinked, surprised at her hurry, but he caught his bearings quickly and led her over to a line of training dummies in a variety of colors perched at the edge of the dirt.  “Ordinarily,” he began with a clearly well-rehearsed speech, “I would spend two to three days working through magical theory, or having one of our spell casters do it, before I allowed you to actually try the spell.  Many of the unicorns under my command slept through basic theory and desperately need the refresher.  I think we can get away with skipping that for the Archmage,” he added, winking.  

“I think I’m up to date on the latest magical theory,” Twilight acknowledged.

“Good.  Unfortunately, I can’t skip this next warning.”  He cleared his throat and looked seriously at her.  “This is not an easy spell.  If you are unable to use this spell it is not a reflection on your character.  Many upstanding, even heroic ponies have been unable to cast it.  The princess herself has told me she is unable to cast this spell, though naturally she has other options available to her.  Try not to take it personally if the magic just doesn’t come.”

Twilight blinked.  Her library of spells was vast and there were very few that would have warranted a similar warning.  Generally speaking, magic was agnostic as to the ethics of the caster.  There were certain exceptions, complicated dark or light magic for instance, but a shield spell should not have fallen into that category.

Aloud she said, “Well, now you’ve piqued my curiosity.  I’ll try to not get upset if I can’t get it working.  Seriously, though, magic is kind of my thing.”  She nodded to her cutie mark.  “I can count the number of pieces of magic I’ve failed at on my hooves.”

“Of course, Archmage.  Why don’t I just explain the spell?  It should become clear why the warning is necessary.”

Nodding, Twilight gestured for him to continue.

“I’ll described the function first so you can practice that with free magic.  Then we’ll go over the spell technique.”  He cleared his throat and focused his attention.  A purple aura colored his horn, slightly lighter in color than the beam that shot up and spread into a pink bubble that surrounded the two of them.  “The bubble is an all-purpose shield; it can block physical, magical, and thermal attacks, and pretty much anything else you’ll encounter as well.  It’s also fast.  As you might have noticed the entire process of reaching for my magic and casting the spell took less than a second, and it’s even faster if you’re already holding on to your magic.”

Twilight held up a hoof to stem the flow of information.  “That sounds too good to be true.  There’s a drawback isn’t there?”  Shining Armor opened his mouth to answer but Twilight beat him to it.  “No wait, I’d rather figure it out on my own.  Give me a second to examine it.”  Smiling at her interest, Shining Armor nodded and stepped back to give her room to work.  Reaching for her magic Twilight powered up her favorite diagnostic spells, sending them running through the shield to allow her to pick apart the components of the magic.

Peering into the pink bubble that surrounded them, Twilight's analysis spells suggested that Shining Armor had been correct.  The shield was comprised of tightly woven threads of magic designed to resist just about everything.  With enough time she might have been able to pick the shield apart, but each thread was itself coated in magic, providing both the shielding against magical attacks and rendering the shield inaccessible to anypony other than the caster.  Ordinarily a shield of this complexity would require time to put together, but she had seen how fast Shining Armor had cast the spell.

Looking closer she realized the catch.  Casting the magic as a spell provided the structure needed to snap the spell into place in a single instant.  On the other hand, casting the spell via free magic would require layering resistance to each type of attack and holding the incomplete structure in her mind while working on the next layer.

Looking up, Twilight grinned.  “It’s expensive isn’t it?  Trying to cast this spell with free magic would exhaust almost any unicorn and the spell must have some highly specialized requirements so, despite how useful the shield is, if you can’t cast it as a spell rather than free magic it’s almost useless.”

“That’s right.  I’m impressed you figured that out so fast,” Shining Armor congratulated as he pushed off the bubble and walked back over to her.  “I got my cutie mark when I invented this spell and first cast it with free magic.”

“Wow, you must be a pretty powerful unicorn to have cast this with free magic as a colt.”

“It runs in the family,” he said shortly and Twilight was taken aback at his harsh tone.  Before she could respond he rubbed his face and shook his head.  “No, I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.  Family and magic can be something of a sore subject for me.”

“I suppose I can understand that,” Twilight agreed. 

“Anyway,” he said, forcefully pushing off the uncomfortable moment so they could continue with the lesson.  “The first time I cast the shield was still half spell just by reflex.  Since you actually have the power for it, I want you to perfect the shield with free magic before I explain how the spell works.  That way even if you can’t get the spell to work you’ll have the more expensive form of the shield for emergencies.”

When Twilight agreed he let the bubble fall and had her begin work.  Over the next hour he coached her through putting the pieces of the spell together correctly, building the shield in such a way that the component layers had constructive rather than destructive interference.  

After his explanation was finished it still took about half an hour before the first thin pale pink bubble shield phased into existence.  Over the next half hour, as Twilight ironed the kinks out of her understanding of the way the shield’s layers fit together, the bubble grew darker and more solid.  Finally, when she could hold it for a minute with Shining Armor leaning his full weight on against the bubble he proclaimed her ready for the next step.

The next level involved the training dummies.  Given a spark of magic each dummy was capable of swinging a padded arm forward and hitting a target with a different type of force, white dummies for physical force, red for thermal, yellow for electricity, and so on.  To confirm that she had properly woven together each aspect of the spell, Shining Armor had her stand in front of each dummy in turn and wait to raise the shield until she saw the arm moving forward.

The next hour seriously bruised Twilight’s pride, and plot, as she was repeatedly dumped on her rear by the dummies.  It didn’t help that every time she fell Shining Armor was there with an infuriatingly encouraging smile to help her back up and tell her to try again.  Before long, the only thing that let her stand back up was the urge to wipe that smile off his face.  Oh sure, it seemed sincere, but Twilight could just tell that he was laughing at her on the inside.

If she had actually been casting the shield with free magic each time, she would have long since collapsed from magic depletion.  Instead, she used a trick Princess Celestia had taught her when they were focusing on free magic.  It allowed her to reabsorb the magical strength spent on free magic so long as it hadn’t been expended or dispelled.  That restriction made it relatively useless in combat since any attack and most defensive spells had to be expended to be any use, but it was perfect for learning a new and costly shield spell.

And learning she was.  Twilight slowly became more familiar with the magic and the proper combination of the layers and appropriate power levels became etched in her memory.  Twilight graduated from the kinetic dummy first and slowly worked her way across the other types.  Lastly, Shining Armor tested her with the final dummy, which could disperse any type of force its operator selected.

When her shield held for ten blows against attacks without knowing ahead of time what type the attack was, he popped up from his position at the dummies controls and grinned at her.  “That should do it.  Nice job!  I don’t think anypony’s picked it up in less than a week before.  Though I guess I should expect that from the Archmage, eh?” he nudged her teasingly in the ribs.

Magical conservation technique or no, Twilight was still feeling pretty ragged both mentally from the magic and physically from being whacked by the dummies so many times.  As such, she barely had the energy to swat Shining Armor, but after that workout it seemed essential so swat she did, though she sank to ground immediately afterward.

Shining Armor, soldier that he was, dodged easily and trotted off to the water barrel, returning with a full dipper.  Twilight snatched it in her hooves and guzzled the cold liquid down greedily.  Rain water had never tasted so sweet and as it washed the dust from her throat she felt some measure of strength returning.  After sending him back for a second and third dipperful, Twilight began to feel somewhat equine again.  Having drunk her fill, Twilight fought her way back to her feet.

“Alright, I’m ready,” she said, determination warring with weariness, “bring on the next step.” 

Shining Armor ran a considering eye over her and Twilight firmed her wobbly knees and did her best to look ready.  It must have been enough for he resumed his lecture.  “You’ll be relieved to learn that the spell isn’t physically or magically difficult.  It just requires a specific state of mind.  The spell is dependent on your desire to protect.  You have to want to protect whatever you are casting the shield around, want to throw yourself in the way of any harm.  You must be willing to endure whatever pain or injury is necessary to keep the subject of the shield safe.  The more fervent your desire to protect the faster the shield goes up and the stronger it is.”

Nodding slowly, Twilight considered his words.  It was common for a spell to involve a certain mindset.  One of the traditional forms of the telekinesis spell involved imagining a limb like a griffon’s talon or a dragon’s claw to grasp and move the objects around.  An impulse to protect made sense for a shield spell.

“So I just have to want to protect something to use the shield as a spell?” Twilight asked.

He shook his head.  “Not quite.  Self-sacrifice is a key component of the spell.  You have to not only want to protect somepony, but protect them with your own self.”

“The level of dedication necessary to pull that off must be why the spell is rarely used.”  Twilight hummed thoughtfully.  “Wait, if self-sacrifice is a requirement of the spell then how is it you can cast the spell around yourself?” 

“There’s a bit of a trick to that.  You need to disassociate your mind from your body.”  Seeing her horrified expression, he quickly continued.  “Not literally.  You just need to imagine your mind taking the hit for your body.  I’ve found it helps to think about it the same way as when you go to sleep.”

“Why?” Twilight asked, before answering her own question.  “Oh I see.  Because sleep is essentially putting the mind and its goals on hold to make sure the body is in good shape.”

“Right.  So, what do you think?  Ready to try it out?”

Twilight stepped back and reached for her magic.  She closed her eyes, letting the familiar power flow through her, then concentrated as she had been instructed.  Visualizing her mind protecting her body she tried to push the magic through that image and into the form she had practiced earlier.  For a moment it appeared that the spell would resolve.  Then she felt the curious sensation of her mind diving behind her body for cover.  At her minds unwillingness to put the body before itself, the spell dissolved.

After three more attempts and three more failures, Twilight opened her eyes with a huff.  “I’m not sure I’m going to be able to cast it on myself.  My body just isn’t as important to me as my mind.  I mean, look.” She gestured to her missing eye.  “I lost my eye and at the time I was just relieved that my mind was still working properly and I could still read.”

“It might not work,” Shining Armor acknowledged.  “Several of the ponies I have tried to teach this to have had similar restrictions on how they could use the spell.  Unfortunately, in your case the most important use of the shield is to protect yourself.  Give it a few more tries.  If you can pull it off once the necessary mental state might click.”

Closing her eyes once more, Twilight tried to will her mind into the proper state to use the spell.  She had succeeded with other similar spells, learned how to inhabit the absent state of mind necessary for teleportation or nostalgia for memory restoration.  

Unfortunately, this particular configuration was so alien to her usual way of thinking that she just couldn’t seem to reach it, like a contortionist stretching for a position they’d never used before that relied on muscles they’d never trained.  After another few tries Twilight opened her eyes and let her head slump in defeat.

“No good, eh?”  Shining Armor rubbed the back of his head.  “There is one more thing we could try.  I’m not a huge fan of this method, but it has seen some success in the past.”

“I’ll try it,” Twilight said forcefully.  “There’s no way I’m letting this spell beat me without trying every conceivable course of action.  And if I have to invent a way around this I will because there’s no way the Archmage should be stumped by a stupid shield spell.”

Shining clonked her lightly on the head.  “What did I say about taking the spell personally?  You of all ponies should know you can’t just force magic to cooperate.”

Glaring, Twilight bit back a sharp retort.  First Rarity and now Shining Armor, she was getting tired of being told that she was wrong today. Still, Twilight had to admit that he was right, trying to invent a way around a spell’s restrictions was asking for trouble.  That kind of change would require long and careful research mapping each individual thread of the shield to produce a new optimized spell.  She simply didn’t have time for that.

“So what is this alternate method?” she asked.

Looking slightly sheepish Shining Armor replied, “some ponies can only pull off the spell when they’re actually in danger.  The dummies won’t work since you’ve been hit by them so many times today already.”  Twilight growled at that and Shining Armor chuckled slightly.  “Instead, I’ll shoot a spell at you, something small like a weak electric charge, and you try to block it.”

“Hmm.  That sounds like a good idea to me.  Let’s try it.”  Twilight trotted a few paces away and turned back to face Shining Armor.  “Alright, I’m ready.  Shoot a slow one so I have time to get the spell together.”

“Can’t,” he called down to her.  “If this is going to work you have to raise the shield by instinct.  Giving you time to think it through would make this worthless.”

Twilight gulped.  She had been planning to dive out of the way if her shield failed, but at the speed regular spells traveled she wouldn’t have the time.  However, she wasn’t going to back out now.  “Fine.  Full speed it is.  Let me know when you’re going to fire.”

“I’ll count it down.”  Shining Armor planted his hooves solidly into the dirt of the practice field.  He drew in a deep breath and the lavender glow of his magic sprung into being around his horn.  “Ready…Three…Two…One…Fire!”

Twilight reacted instantly, reaching for her magic and trying desperately to force it into the spell.  Even as she did so she could feel a wrench from somewhere below her stomach and knew that the spell hadn’t gone right.  Flinching, she prepared for the blow thinking, this is going to hurt.

A shadow fell over her and a dragon dropped from the sky.  Leathery purple wings slammed down in front of her and the Shining Armor’s spell splashed harmlessly off of them.

“No!” Spike roared at the captain and a great gout of flame washed towards him.

Just before the flames reached him his purple shield sprang into being.  Powerful as the shield was, it couldn’t completely protect from dragon fire.  The shield itself held but Shining Armor was sent tumbling end over end, still inside the bubble.  With the reflexes of a soldier he turned the tumble into a roll and shot back to his feet.  

“Get away from her!” he shouted.  His horn glowed more brightly and a powerful lance of crimson energy formed at the tip.  “Twilight duck!”  The bolt crackled and split the air as it shot toward Spike.  In an instant, Twilight realized that Captain Shining Armor had spent six month preparing to fight dragons and he wouldn’t have used the spell if it wasn’t effective.

With no time to think further Twilight dove between Spike’s wings, coming up between him and the fast approaching bolt.  She reared back, brought up her hooves, and poured her magic into the first spell that came to mind, the shield spell she’d spent all day practicing.  

An inch before the wide crimson bolt would have hit them both, a purple bubble expanded into being.  The bolt impacted on the shield which rang like a gong at the blow.  Thunder rumbled in clearing.  On and on it went as inch by inch the bolt was broken on the shield.  Gritting her teeth, Twilight poured her magic into the shield, trying desperately to keep it up under the terrible pressure of Captain Shining Armor’s dragon-slaying spell.

Difficult though it was, Twilight persevered and at last the final inch of the spell faded as the red light vanished from the training ground.  Dripping with sweat Twilight fell forward onto the ground, panting for breath.  Spike knelt down beside her, torn between checking up on her and taking down Shining Armor.

Taking advantage of Spike’s proximity, Twilight managed to ground out a few words.  “Not…attack...magic…lesson.”  Hopefully that would be enough to explain the situation to Spike.  It wouldn’t be the first time she had done something extreme in pursuit of magical knowledge, though admittedly being attacked by a member of the royal guard was a first for her. 

Spike stayed where he was, which Twilight considered an improvement over charging Shining Armor.  Dragon and captain eyed one another warily, each shooting glances to where Twilight was recovering on the ground 

Twilight could tell that anything might set them back to fighting and that simply wouldn’t do, so she hauled herself back to her feet for what felt like the millionth time that day.  She made her way in between the two and sat back on her haunches, holding up a hoof to both of them.  

Catching her breath, she tried to clarify the situation.  “Spike, this is Captain Shining Armor.  He was firing a low power spell at me to help me learn a shield spell.  The shield spell I just used to block the stronger spell he launched at you, in fact, so thanks for helping me get that.  Captain Shining Armor, this is Spike, my little brother.”

“Little brother?”  Shining Armor’s eyes narrowed and for a moment it looked as if he was going to launch another attack.  Catching her glare, he realized just how bad an idea that would have been.  “Ah, right.  I remember that you had a baby dragon following you around before.  He looks pretty different now.”

Spike chuckled at that, a low rumble like gravel shifting.  He did indeed look different.  The baby fat he’d still had when they’d come north had disappeared.  He was tall now, as tall as the princess and more strongly built.  His wingspan was as wide as he was tall and the wings had cruel bat-like claws at the ends.  “I’m not quite a baby anymore,” Spike said, his voice deeper, if not so deep as a full grown dragon.  “But I guess I owe you an apology.  I thought you were attacking Twilight and just reacted.  Sorry about that.”

“No, the fault was mine,” Shining Armor acknowledged, “I thought that you were from the dragon camp here to assassinate the Archmage.  Truce?” Shining Armor stepped forward and offered his hoof to Spike.

“Truce.”  Spike bumped the offered hoof with his own claw.  “Can’t stay mad at anypony willing to take on a dragon solo for my sister.  That was quite a spell.”

“Well I am the captain of the royal guard after all.  If I couldn’t find a spell that’s effective on dragons after six months in the field, then we’d have a serious problem.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Spike said, folding his wings up behind his back.  “Good thing Twilight blocked it.”  His eyes widened as he realized he’d been neglecting her.  “Twilight!”

The two of them spun and hurried to where she was still seated in the dirt, panting heavily.  As they approached she waved them off.  “No, no, I’m fine, really.  Go back to your male bonding.”

Spike looked properly chagrined.  “Sorry Twilight,” he said, as Shining Armor went for another cup of water.

“It’s alright, I really am ok,” she insisted. Accepting the cup from Shining Armor she drank deeply, slowly starting to cool down from the unexpected exertion.  “And hey, I pulled off the spell.”

“Not just pulled it off,” Shining Armor corrected.  “You knocked it out of the park.  My attack was specifically designed to overcome a dragon’s inherent magic resistance.  I’m not sure even I could have held the shield against that level of magic penetration.”

“One of the perks of being me,” Twilight said in between sips, “is that if all else fails I can just pour a metric ton of magic into a spell and hope for the best.

“Now that you know the state of mind needed to use the spell, do you think you’ll be able to cast the shield on yourself?” Shining Armor asked.

“I think so,” Twilight said slowly.  “I’ll give it a try once I’ve recovered a bit more.”

Spike cut in, “is there something special about that shield?” 

“To use it you have to be willing to throw yourself in harm’s way for the other pony.  Or dragon, in this case,” Shining Armor answered.  “She couldn’t make it work to protect herself, but, as was just demonstrated rather dramatically, she could protect you.”

Despite his increased size, Spike could still tear up with the best of them.  He draped one wing around Twilight and hugged her close.  “Twilight,” he said, voice rough, “let me take the hits, okay?  I- I’m touched that you would do that but please, I’m a dragon, I can take it.  Let me protect you.” 

Twilight leaned in to the hug.  “I appreciate it Spike, I really do.  But no matter how big you get, you’re still my little brother and I’m not going let you get hurt for me.  That’s just the way it is.”

“Ahem,” Shining Armor coughed, worried about intruding, but determined to speak.  “I have to agree with Spike on this one.  I can’t- none of us here on this trip can afford to lose you.  So if Spike is willing to protect you, I vote you let him.”

Spike met Shining Armor’s eyes and an understanding passed between them.  He nodded slowly and the Captain nodded back.

“Well,” said Twilight in tones that clearly indicated she knew she wouldn’t be listened to on this matter.  “Let’s first see how well I can protect myself.  I’m going to try casting the shield on just myself now.”  She straightened and moved away from both Spike and Shining Armor.

Closing her eyes, she cast her mind back to the moment she had seen the red bolt shooting toward Spike.  She conjured up the way she had felt then, the desperate need to save her little brother.  Looking at that emotion with the benefit of hindsight she had a better sense of what Shining Armor had meant.  There was, by the nature of the spell, a certain requirement to act without thinking that she would never have been able to replicate had the previous unique situation not occurred.  However, since she had cast the spell once she found it possible to slip back into that fervently protective mindset.  

Within her mind she placed her own self-image where the Spike of her recollection stood.  With that picture held firmly in her mind she tried once more to push her way through the spell.

“Uh, Twilight?”

“Not now, Spike, I’m concentrating,” she said, not opening her eye.

“Yeah but listen,” he said.  There was a knocking sound, like claws on stone.  Twilight opened her eye to find Spike grinning at her, rapping on a purple bubble.  “I think you pulled it off.”

Shining Armor kicked the air.  “Alright! Way to go Twi— Archmage.”

Grinning, Twilight lowered and raised the shield, letting the process grow more familiar with repetition.  “Time?” she called out.

“Uh, four thirty?” Shining Armor answered, confused.

Spike laughed.  “No, when she decides to learn a new piece of magic she usually has me time her and then she tracks how long spells of various difficulties take her to learn.”

“I’ll just have to approximate,” she said cheerfully.  “We started at one so that took about three and a half hours.  That’s longer than usual so I guess your shield spell must be pretty tricky.”

“You can learn most spells in less than four hours?” Shining Armor asked, obviously disbelieving.

“How long does it take you to learn new military maneuvers?” she responded pointedly.

He shrugged.  “Fair enough.”

“Besides,” Twilight continued, “I need to practice more to confirm that I’ve constructed the shield properly and that it will hold when I need it to.”

“I think we should leave that for some other time.  After all, you were panting on the ground from magical exhaustion mere minutes ago.”

“I won’t always have the luxury of being fully rested when I use this spell, will I?”  She turned to Spike who had been trying to slip away.  “Oh and don’t you go anywhere Spike.  I want to test this against dragonfire too.  We’ll discuss your mission after dinner.”

Spike sighed but nodded.  “Let’s get to it then.  I’m starving and the faster this is over the sooner I can eat.”

Shining Armor glanced over at him.  “This can’t take that long.  She was just exhausted, how much energy could she have left?”

Catching the manic glint in Twilight's eye, Spike winced.  “You’re going to regret saying that,” he muttered.
> Arc 2 Chapter 3: Connection
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spike was not wrong in his guess that Twilight would demand they stay on the training field for a long time.  She kept Spike and Shining Armor there until she could reflexively generate a shield that could hold against every type of force the dummies could generate, every standard offensive spell Shining Armor knew – not including the dragon-slaying spell, once had been quite enough of that – and dragonfire, at least for a few seconds.

After Twilight managed to hold a shield against dragonfire for a short time, Shining Armor put his hoof down and declared an end to the practice.  Twilight felt that she still had room to improve, but even she had to admit that they both had responsibilities that had been neglected in favor of the magic lesson.

The sun was setting as they dashed to the mess hall for a quick dinner and then went their separate ways, though Twilight did extract a promise from Shining Armor to pass along a few of his offensive spells as soon as an opportunity arose.

Twilight settled into her command center/tent for a few hours of nice relaxing paperwork.  To another pony the red tape and bureaucracy necessary to keep the camp humming along might have been a chore, but to Twilight ink, parchment, and a good cup of tea made for the best possible evening, regardless of whether she was reading, writing, or doing paperwork.

Spike followed her in, partially because he still needed to report, but mostly because he’d simply missed spending time with her during the past few months.  It didn’t hurt that Twilight had mentioned that Rarity often stopped by in the evenings to help finish everything that needed doing.

Sure enough, soon after Twilight and Spike had gotten settled Rarity breezed through the tent flaps.  “Twilight, I –EEEKKKK!”

At Rarity’s sudden shriek Twilight winced and caught sight of Spike’s stricken expression.  She moved to explain the situation, to offer comfort that Rarity was just startled, not afraid of him, and she hoped that it was true.  

However, Rarity got there first.  In a sudden rush she darted forward and wrapped Spike in a hug, talking a mile a minute.  “Oh Spikey it’s so good to see you again.  We’ve missed you darling.  Where have you been?  What have you been doing?  Have you been eating right?  I’ve been saving a few a gems for you, but you’ve grown so much I’m not sure you need them.”

The sheer relief that washed across Spike’s face was a pleasure to behold.  With a laugh he delicately hugged Rarity back.  “It’s good to see you too, Rarity.  And please, one question at a time.”

With one last squeeze she let him go and stepped back.  Her smile seemed too wide for her face and lit up her eyes. Twilight was surprised at the apparent depth of Rarity’s enthusiasm.  Perhaps she had been more worried by Spike’s absence than she had let on.

“So?” Rarity said expectantly, “tell me all about it.”

He shot a glance over to Twilight.  “I’d love to but I’m not sure I’m allowed to talk about it.”

Twilight waved a hoof.  “I couldn’t keep anything from Rarity if I tried.  Without her I couldn’t keep this place running half as smoothly.  In fact,” Twilight added with a mischievous smirk, “you could say she’s become my number one assistant.”

Spike gasped and clutched a claw to his heart.  “Rarity, you’ve stolen my place?  I trusted you.”

She nudged him with her hoof.  “Oh stop that, it would take three of me to replace you,” eyeing his larger frame she added, “almost literally.  Now come on, I want to hear everything.”  Rarity’s horn lit briefly and she dragged a cushion over and sat next to Spike, looking up at him expectantly.

Flustered by her attention, though not nearly as badly as he once would have been, Spike stammered.  “Well, I, I,” he glanced over at Twilight who smiled encouragingly.  His voice firmed and he continued.  “I was with the other dragons.”

Rarity gasped and shot a glare at Twilight.  “Twilight!  How could you send Spike over to those ruffians alone?  We’re fighting with them!”

“No no, it was okay,” Spike hastened to assure her.  “I asked her if I could go.  Dragon’s don’t have many young and they value the young they do have very highly.  So we were pretty sure they wouldn’t just attack on sight.  I still wanted to learn more about my kind and since we’re all stuck here for the time being it seemed like a chance that might not come again.”

“Still,” Rarity said, unconvinced, “I don’t like the thought of you going off alone like that.”

“If it helps,” Twilight interjected, “you could think of it this way.  Spike’s been curious about dragons for a long time.  Wouldn’t you rather he learned about them in a place and time where, if anything went wrong, we could be there with an army and a princess at a moment’s notice?  That’s how I convinced myself to let him go anyway.”

“I see your point,” Rarity said primly.  “Why the thought of them harming you, Spike, makes me wish I’d joined Applejack and Rainbow Dash in their military training.” 

“I’d like to see that,” Spike chuckled.  “Rarity in shining formfitting battle armor, charging into an army of dragons with a fierce battle cry,” he trailed off, staring into space.

Rarity and Twilight shared an amused look.  “If armor’s so appealing to you I might just have an inspiration for my new dress line.”

“Spike, I thought the damsel was supposed to fantasize about rescue by a knight in shining armor, not the dragon,” Twilight teased.

Spike snapped back into focus and a pink tinge lit his purple cheeks.  “That’s not– I didn’t– awwww.” Spike hung his head as they laughed good naturedly at him.  “I couldn’t be cool and mysterious for even five minutes without sticking my claw in my mouth,” he lamented.

Rarity managed to stop laughing and put a hoof against his side.  “It’s okay Spike.  I think it’s cute when you get flustered like that.  And I do still want to hear about your time in the dragon camp.”

“Thanks Rarity,” Spike said, smiling down at her.  He hurried to continue before his sister could get it in her head to resume the teasing.  “I actually met somedrake you six had met a while back.  See if you can guess who it was.”

“A dragon that we’ve all met before other than you?” asked Rarity, surprised.  “I can’t think of any.”

“The one in the cave!” Twilight burst out suddenly.  “The one that was filling Equestria with smoke from the top of that mountain.  You met that dragon?”

“Got it in one.” Spike said.  “His name’s Thraxus and he’s even smaller than I am now, about Applejack’s size.”

“But darling, that can’t be the same dragon.  The one we met in that cave was huge.”

“Yeah I was confused when he said that was him too, since you all had described him as being really large.  That explanation was one of the most important things I learned from the other dragons.  Remember that time I, ah, had some trouble with my size?” Spike asked, cringing from the shame of the memory.

“Yes,” Twilight said, “but I thought that was due to the effects of your run away greed?” 

“It was, kind of.  See, it turns out that a dragon’s size is related to the size of his hoard.  Without any hoard you’re tiny.”  Spike held out a claw at the height level he had been before.  “Once you gain a few small items you’re a bit bigger.”  He raised the claw to his chest height.  “Once you have a strong foundation for your hoard you’re a bit bigger still.”  He held the claw up to his own head.  “And from there you grow a little more every time you add to your hoard.”  He extended his arm to its full length above his head and then let it fall back down to his side.  

“But what does that have to do with your greed growth,” Twilight asked, perplexed.

“If a dragon somehow manages to get a larger hoard then he’s ready for, mentally, he goes out of control,” Spike answered.  “That’s a sign to other dragons that he’s weak and that they would be able to take his hoard away from him, shrinking him back down and forcing him to start growing his hoard again from the beginning.  My case was a little different.  Somepony managed to get through to me and I instinctively gave up the ‘hoard’ of miscellaneous items I had assembled.”  He smiled earnestly at Rarity.  “I can’t thank you enough for setting me straight back then.”

“I was happy to see you return to normal, Spike,” Rarity responded warmly. 

“So then how come that other dragon, Thraxus, shrunk?  Did some other dragon take away his hoard?”  Twilight asked, still focused on understanding dragon physiology.

Spike laughed again.  “Not a dragon, Fluttershy.  Apparently, when she scolded him into leaving it was sufficiently similar to one dragon claiming the hoard of another that, before he had flown more than a couple miles, he snapped back into a body barely older than a hatchling.  The other dragons were very impressed with Fluttershy.  Dragons of Thraxus’ size and age don’t often lose, and when they do they rarely lose everything like that.  Last I heard he wanted to meet her again.”

“Should we be worried for Fluttershy?” Rarity asked, concerned.

“I don’t think so.  If a dragon loses his or her hoard then that proves they should not have had it in the first place,” Spike clarified.  “Looking for revenge would be frowned upon.  Trying to win back some of your hoard might be okay but Fluttershy could just explain she didn’t keep it and I don’t think she’d be bothered.  Plus, Fluttershy handled him when he was huge, I think she’ll be okay now that he’s pony-sized.” 

As Spike spoke Twilight had pulled out a blank sheet of paper and begun scribbling notes, not wanting to lose a chance to record first-hoof information from the secretive culture of the dragons.  “Fascinating,” she muttered.  “I’d love to write a paper on this.”  When he stopped speaking she scanned back over the document, making sure her writing was legible and accurate.  A further question occurred to her as she read.  

She looked up.  “Spike, from what you’ve said you must have a hoard somewhere to have grown as large as you have.  Where is your hoard?  

Rarity jumped in, eyes shining at the thought of a hoard of gems.  “What’s in it?  Diamonds?  Rubies?  Perhaps a nice sapphire or two?  How’d you get it anyway?”

Spike shifted uncomfortably.  “One question at a time, Rarity, Twilight, please.  My hoard is…around.”  His eyes narrowed and he wouldn’t meet either pony’s gaze.  “I’d really rather not explain actually.  You might take it the wrong way.”

Twilight blinked.  Spike had never hidden anything from her.  Well, childish secrets occasionally, who took the gems from the gem drawer for instance, but never anything important.  Aloud she said, “If that’s what you’d prefer, Spike. I trust you not to have done anything wrong in collecting your hoard so I won’t force you to tell me.”

He looked up, surprised that she was being so understanding, and the guilt on his face grew more pronounced.  He took a deep breath and let it out, careful to aim outside the tent so the inside wouldn’t grow smoky.  “No,” he said heavily.  “You both have a right to know.  I’ll tell you.  But please promise to listen to me all the way through.”

“I promise.  Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye,” they both said.  Twilight smiled slightly, now that she had the eyepatch she didn’t have to worry about accidentally poking her eye any more.  A small silver lining if there ever was one.

“Okay,’ said Spike, steeling himself.  “My hoard currently consists of the Elements of Harmony.”

“What!?” The word came out as if ripped from inside Twilight.  “That’s not-“

“Listen!”  Spike almost shouted.  “It’s not just the physical necklaces and crown.  In a larger sense you six are the Elements of Harmony.  You all are my hoard.”

“You’re not exactly helping your case there, Spike,” Twilight observed tartly.

Rarity had stiffened away from him.  “Being your hoard makes it sound like you own us.  Like we’re just possessions to you.  I’d hate to imagine you could think of us that way.

Spike stood, staring down at them, now with anger or as a threat, just to impress upon them how serious he was.  He spoke slowly and carefully, but with an urgent need to be understood.  “Do you know what a hoard is to a dragon?  I didn’t, but Iolite was explained to me.  A hoard must be made up of gold and gems and other precious objects, but that’s not what a hoard truly is.  The hoard is the dragon.  The dragon defines himself by what he chooses to add to his hoard.  He forces himself to grow with every item added, to be more than he was before, to protect that which is most precious to him.”

Sighing, Spike looked away.  “I don’t know if I can explain it right.  But when Iolite was explaining to me how important a hoard is to a dragon, how it shapes and is shaped by them in turn, all I could think of was you, my friends, and all that you mean to me.  And then, when I realized that as the Elements of Harmony you six are close enough to gems to count for a dragon’s hoard sense, I was happy.  I thought I could finally grow a little.  That I could become strong so that I wouldn’t have to be left behind anymore.  That I could protect you all instead of being left behind as you all go off to save the world.”

He closed his eyes and hung his head.  “That was what I was going for anyway.  If… If I haven’t made any sense at all, and this still bothers you, I will relinquish my ‘hoard’ and go back to being small.  The last thing I want is to upset either – any of you.”

Rarity and Twilight shared a troubled look.  Twilight, at least, was at a loss for words.  On the one hoof, she wasn’t terribly happy with being considered part of a hoard.  On the other, when she thought about how she would feel if she had to let her friends go face danger without her, she could understand where Spike was coming from.  In addition, she was slightly distracted with trying to write down everything Spike had said while it was still fresh.

Fortunately, Rarity was not distracted and slightly more adept at communication than Twilight.  “Spike, let me make sure I understand.  Does being in your hoard let you, say, tell us what to do, or anything like that?”  

He shook his head.  “It shouldn’t, and I wouldn’t want that if it could.  Iolite and Sim weren’t quite sure how it would work since usually gems aren’t alive.  When I explained befriending you all and how you have this connection to the Elements I think they understood why I wanted to try though.”

Rarity nodded slowly.  “So it sounds like, for a dragon, being part of your hoard is another way of saying something is near to your heart.  Is that fair?”

“Yeah,” Spike said slowly, looking up with hope in his eyes.

“Well then,” said Rarity cheerily, “I see no problem with that.  And I am touched that you want so desperately to stay with all of us.”  She glanced over at the purple pony.  “Do you have any problem with that, Twilight?”

Twilight stopped writing and looked up, concern still written across her face.  “What about the physical necklaces and gems?  Won’t them being in your hoard pose a problem if we actually have to use them?”

Spike shook his head.  “No.  Since you six are the Elements, you possessing them doesn’t impinge on them being in my hoard.  It’s as if I claimed them and then left them lying around.”  He grinned.  “Normally that would be stupid since they would be taken immediately, but I think you six can protect yourselves.  The only way there would be a problem is if they get taken from you, like Discord did, or if one of you gets hurt.”

Twilight nodded slowly, thinking it through.  “So it sounds as if the Elements stay with us and the hoard is just the way dragons would express the connection you share with the six of us.  I guess there wasn’t a real disagreement so much as a problem with semantics and cultural definitions.”  She smiled and laid a hoof on his shoulder.  “We are family after all.  If that is what a hoard means to a dragon, then I would be happy to be part of your hoard.”

Looking distinctly misty-eyed Spike’s long arms swept out and encircled both of them in a tight hug.  “Thank you, both of you.  I won’t let you down.”  Twilight hugged him back with the ease of long familiarity while Rarity stayed still, allowing him to have his moment.  Soon enough embarrassment got the better of Spike and he released them both.  “Ahem, sorry about that.  Lost my head for a moment.”

Rarity placed a comforting hoof on his side.  “Quite alright, darling.  That can’t have been easy for you to explain to us.  I’m just glad we can put this little misunderstanding behind us.”

“While we’re at it, is there anything else you need to tell us?  Anything other dramatic bombshells waiting to be dropped?” Twilight teased.

“I think that covers it,” Spike said wryly.  A sudden light dawned in his eyes and he knocked himself beside the head.  “Duh, no.  Actually there is something else I need to tell you.”  Noting their looks of trepidation, he hastened to add, “nothing bad.  Just that, as you requested, the dragons are willing to open negotiations.  Specifically, Sim agreed to meet with you for some preliminary discussions.  I think it’s able to make binding decisions since it’s the highest ranking dragon in their camp.  Though dragon hierarchies can be a little muddled sometimes.”

Twilight leapt to her feet.  “Really?  Excellent!  Well done, Spike.  My plans are finally starting to bear fruit.  When and where did it say it wanted to meet?”

“It wants to meet in three days in the city, at the midpoint between our two camps,” Spike answered.  “It stipulated that up to two others may accompany you and it will follow similar restrictions.  If that was not acceptable I was to return to the dragon camp to continue pre-negotiation negotiations.  Otherwise it said that it would see you in three days’ time.”

Gleefully, Twilight clapped her hooves together.  “That will be fine.  If nothing goes wrong, we’ll finally be able to begin breaking this stalemate in three days.”


***


Through fuzzy warmth Luna swam toward wakefulness.  She was wrapped deeply in her cloud bed and just wanted to stay that way, forever if possible.  Unfortunately, she heard delicate hoofsteps coming to drag her out of bed.  Luna pulled the upper cloud layer tight under her chin and prayed that they would just pass her by.  No such luck.  The hoofsteps stopped right in front of her bed and a warm light shone over her.  For a moment she dared to hope.

“Tia?” she called out muzzily.

“No, your highness.  I’m sorry, but I’m not your sister.”

“Go ‘way, then,” Luna grumbled, rolling over and pulling her head below the covers.

“Your highness, it’s time for you to raise the sun.”

Raising the sun had grown routine.  Even the twinge of pain and blasphemy she felt at touching the sun had grown routine.  Not faded, never faded so long as her sister still wasn’t there, but routine.  Without raising her head Princess Luna reached within herself, passed her ordinary magic, to the place where the mantles of sun and moon waited.  Extending a tendril of herself to both she let their power fill her, becoming aware of the moon and the sun, floating in the sky and below the earth, respectively, reflected across the horizon.

There was no ceremony to this scared act.  Luna had no taste for it today.  There was no subtle lightening of the sky or fading of the moon.  The sun leapt into the sky and the moon fell, as mechanical as a merchant’s balance in the marketplace.

“There,” Luna muttered, not even bothering to wake up fully.  “Now let me sleep.”

“As you wish, your highness.”

Luna sank back down past the Dreaming, where she dared not go lest she rediscover the Nightmare, into the empty void of dreamless sleep.  She heard the hoofsteps cross her room and the faint thunk of the door swinging shut.


***


Hours later, when the sun had traveled much further along it’s tracked path, a stray sunbeam chanced to fall across Luna’s exposed eyes.  Slowly regaining her senses, she felt the same sudden burst of hope and sickening swoop of disappointment as she realized that her sister was still gone.  For a moment she considered giving the day up as a waste and falling back asleep.  Then she considered smiting the sun from the sky for having the temerity to wake her up.

Fortunately for all concerned, at that moment there came a knock at the door.  A voice called out, “Princess would you care to get up?  I’ve brought you breakfast.”

Breakfast in bed was a passable recompense for getting up, so Luna dragged herself into a sitting position.  “I’m awake.  You 
may enter.”

There was a moment of fumbling at the door before Sunlit Rooms poked her head in.  One wing grasped the door knob and pushed the door open while the other was stretched out as flat as possible with a tray of food balanced on top of it.  She deftly shut the door behind her and trotted across the room, laying the tray out before Luna.

It was an impressive spread, made all the more so by the limited rations forced on a wartime camp far from resupply lines.  Two cups, one holding coffee and the other tea steamed lightly in one corner.  In another stood a bowl of wheat squares with a bottle of milk on the side to prevent them from getting soggy.  A lovely bowl of warm oatmeal with a dusting of golden brown sugar on the top and moat of cream around it sat in the center of the tray.  Completing the meal was a plate with a halved orange and a rasher of hay bacon strips.

Somewhat spoiled for choice, Luna hesitated before digging into the oatmeal.  She ate happily for a moment, letting the sweet sugar soothe her sour disposition, before noting that Sunlit Rooms was simply standing in attendance by her bed.  “Would you like any of this?” Luna offered.

Despite the time they had spent together over the past few months Sunlit Rooms looked almost startled to be invited to share the royal meal, as it were.  “Oh no, I couldn’t,” she protested.

“Nonsense.  It’s too much for me to eat all on my own.  And I would feel bad if you just stood there watching me.”

Sunlit’s indecision was decisively solved when Luna levitated a slice of hay bacon over the pegasus.  She hesitantly took it in one wing and nibbled at it while Luna continued to work on the oatmeal.

As Luna ate, details from yesterday started to filter into her mind.  Her concert, her discussion with the quartermaster, lunch and another argument with Twilight.  Her movements slowed as the memories sped up.  Painting on and on through the afternoon and into the evening, not even stopping or noticing when she lowered the sun by instinct.  Finally, she saw, as if from the outside, herself sobbing on the floor of her gallery.

That still left the question of how she had made it to bed.  No, wait.  There was a memory of the sensation of somepony much smaller than herself doing their level best to pull her to her hooves.  They had slowly helped her to her room and a soft wing had brushed across her forehead as the other pony gently guided her into bed and drew the covers up.

Luna blinked and stopped eating, looking at the other pony in the room.  “You were the one who got me to bed last night?”

“I just lent a wing,” Sunlit Rooms offered, not meeting Luna’s gaze. 

“You did a good bit more than that, dragging my sorry carcass across the room,” Luna said bitterly.  “I’m sorry you had to see your princess like that.  Ha! Some princess.”

“It’s alright princess,” Sunlit Rooms said softly.  “I know you must be under terrible pressure these days.”

“Pressure,” Luna spat.  “Just the pressure of my own sins. A ruler should be better than that, stronger than that, like my sister whom nopony save Twilight even remembers.”

Sunlit Rooms wore an expression that Luna had grown to hate, even though she couldn’t fully parse it.  There was sympathy in it, not pity and not empathy because neither would be appropriate coming from pony to princess and Sunlit knew it.  Other elements seemed to be concern and solicitousness.  Sunlit looked at Luna as if she was suffering under a great burden in place of her ponies, as if Luna was martyring herself for the good of her subjects.

Luna, of course, knew that that was not true.  There was nothing in her suffering that was for anypony else.  It was purely her own pain, her own mistakes that haunted her and even if she somehow managed to throw off the guilt it would be meaningless to anypony else.

All of a sudden the near-empty room felt stifling.  Sunlit Room’s gaze lay heavy on Luna, a multiplier on the force of her own self-loathing.  The lack of windows and weighty warm cloud quilt were all too close and Luna felt as if she could barely breathe.  With a sudden jerk she threw off the blankets, nearly knocking the breakfast tray to the ground.

“I am going to look for my sister,” Luna said absently.

Sunlit Rooms’ face fell from inscrutability to disappointment.  Or was it just sorrow?  Luna couldn’t seem to tell anymore.  “Are you sure, your highness?” the little white pegasus asked hesitantly.  “It’s just, you never come back from that in a better mood.”

“Yes.  Yes, I’m sure.”  Luna waved off Sunlit’s concern and strode from the room.  Like a gnat that couldn’t be swatted, Sunlit’s expression stayed with Luna as she walked away.  It buzzed in her ear, bringing the memories Luna sought to burry to the forefront of her mind.  Still trying to put it behind her she climbed the steps to the highest level.

The ponies that had forced her into a building had chosen well.  There were many pleasant features to her temporary house, but the best of them all was the top floor.  At the top of a steep flight of stairs a small wooden door opened to the outer air.  On the other side was a small rooftop garden.  It was perfectly circular with a diameter of about forty feet.  A rectangular patch of earth where a garden must have once stood covered a section of the roof opposite the door.  Around the edges ran a fence for the safety of any non-pegasi – or non-alicorns – that might choose to visit the roof.

In the center of the roof stood a raised circular platform no more than nine feet wide.  A wrought-iron staircase circled around the iron base of the platform, completing a single revolution as it reached the railing-less floor of the platform.  

Though she could have flown to the top, Luna felt it was necessary to walk up the staircase each time she came to sit in this place.  It was as though flying would prevent her from reaching her destination, would cause her to reach some other platform removed from the real world or the view she sought.  Hooves clinked on iron as she reached the top of the platform and gazed out across the city.

The crystal citadel dominated her view.  Gigantic crystal walls threw themselves at the heavens, their reflected light striving to rival the sun.  Within was a great warren of buildings, far more closely set and interconnected than the outskirts inhabited by the pony, dragon, and griffon encampments.  This warren was the citadel, rival to her sister’s castle in Canterlot or the ancient Castle of the Two Sisters in the Everfree Forest.  Those walls had once held the nobility and royal body of the Crystal Empire and, later still, had held King Sombra and the cruel servants he gathered to himself to administer his empire of slaves.

And it was in the crystal spire that those august and occasionally infamous personages had been housed.  At the center of the citadel the great spire of crystal rose.  Naturally, it’s crystal was of the same type as the walls, but if the walls strove to outshine the sun, the spire tried to drink it in.  Though it was bathed in sunlight the spire gave off no reflections, it drank in the light and seemed perpetually under cloud.

The sharp peak of the spire reminded Luna of nothing so much as the horn of a dark king rising from beneath the earth.  Luna knew, too, that the spire’s foundation was held up on four corners that matched the four cardinal directions.  She had entered one of those foundations many months ago and traveled down into the earth to find King Sombra not nearly so imprisoned as she might have hoped.

Blueblood and his fellow revolutionaries had been in that citadel, with access to the spire and its prison below the foundations, for six months now.  They had had plenty of time to find King Sombra, or be found by him, and then…

Luna did not know what would happen then.  Perhaps King Sombra could use them, against their will or not, to break free.  Perhaps he would simply sup of their life force and grow stronger.  The risk was too great that he was free already and some trap had been laid for her, so Luna dared not enter.  Instead, she sat atop her tower and watched.

Luna reached within herself, past the place where the magic of a pony lay, to where her immortal power sat and pulled it up from her core to sit behind her eyes.  Had there been anypony else around to watch, they would have seen a wind rise around Luna and her eyes begin to glow a fiery white.  But, there was nopony to watch.  Sunlit Rooms had seen it once and fled in terror, refusing to return to the roof from then on.  Luna was touched that the other pony hadn’t simply abandoned her in fear after that first time.

Looking out at the citadel and the horizon Luna scanned for any sign of immortal magic.  As always, the first she found was her own innate immortal power.  Too close to be seen but certainly felt.  Next came the mantles of sun and moon that she currently held.  Only one of which could she ever truly own.  

After that came the city itself.  The crystal empire glowed faintly with immortal power.  It flowed in a trickle from each crystal building, merging in the streets to a stream.  The streets gathered and grew stronger in the squares and open spaces, all flowing to the center.  At the crystal spire the four foundations drew the immortal magic of the city up through the structure.  At the very peak of the spire the magic burst free like water from a fountain and spread out across the city and possibly beyond.

If only she could remember what it meant.  Luna remembered that the Crystal Empire had had a magic all its own, one that could influence the lives of ponies and other sentient creatures the world over.  It was why she and her sister had attacked when the dark King had come to rule, to prevent the misuse of the empire.  If only she could remember what that misuse or use had been.  Unfortunately, the Nightmare had followed hard on the heels of that battle and Luna only faintly remembered the empire at all, let along what it was used for.  Though she remembered just fine the fear inspired by King Sombra.  

Luna shivered and tried to push all memory of the king away.  But no, like iron to a lodestone her eyes were drawn down, to the base of the spire and below.  He should not have been visible to her gaze; only immortal magic should have appeared.  But then, he had never been ordinary.  He had stolen it, somehow, had drawn immortal magic to himself and bound it irrevocably to his soul.  So now, when Luna searched for the power of immortals she saw his terrible eyes, cloaked in shadow, lurking below the spire and – if it wasn’t a trick – still trapped by the bright bars of her sister’s prison of sunlight.

Tearing her eyes away, Luna looked for brighter magic.  She turned slowly in a circle, looking for faint glimmerings of light, hints that the magic of her sister was not lost forever.  Sometimes she almost thought she could seem them, floating on the breeze, following this pony or that.  Always when Luna peered closer the light would vanish; a cruel inversion of mist burned away by sunlight.

Luna sat upon the platform for hours, her eyes running from one source of immortal magic to another.  Hours passed as she slowly rotated, scanning all 360 degrees in hopes that some arc might hold a trace of her dear departed sister.  First clockwise then counterclockwise she turned, knowing that that could make no difference, but hoping that the small change would bring her new sight.  As hard as she looked she could not find even the smallest glimmer of her sister’s magic.  So, when the sun reached the edge of the horizon she brought forth her the mantles, lowered the sun, raised the moon, and climbed down from her perch.  

Reentering the building and descending the stairs Luna was greeted by Sunlit Rooms’ worried face. The princess couldn’t help but search that caring face for some trace of Celestia, but found nothing.  As always.  Failing that, she turned her attention to the comforting repast Sunlit had readied.

Luna ate her tomato soup and grilled cheese in silence.  With a gesture she offered to share with the other pony.  Sunlit declined, indicating that she had already eaten.  Only as she was mopping up the last of the soup with the remaining crusts of bread did Luna speak.

“I haven’t thanked you, have I?  For taking care of me, I mean.  And don’t,” she said, holding up a hoof to forestall objections, “say that it’s all part of the job.”  Sunlit closed her mouth, having been about to make precisely that objection.  “We both know that that’s not true.  You were an advisor and scribe before we came to the Crystal Empire. By rights you should have gone with Twilight when I refused to take charge.  But you didn’t.  You didn’t leave me alone.”  Luna shifted, not meeting Sunlit’s eyes.  “Thank you.”

“Oh, princess,” Sunlit said softly.  “I took this job to help Equestria and that’s what I’m doing.  As a scribe or as a fr-caretaker to you.”

Reaching out with a wing, Luna tentatively hugged the other pony.  “Friend, please.  I have few enough that I would not begrudge you of all ponies from using that word if you so choose. And it does me good to have a friend with whom I am not perpetually fighting.”

Sunlit had stiffened, surprised by Luna’s intimacy, but as Luna spoke she relaxed and leaned into the larger pony.  “Well then I can be your peaceful friend and we can let Twilight be your frenemy.”

“Frenemy,” Luna repeated, tasting the modern word on her tongue.  “Yes I think that fits.  She does prick me so but I cannot bring myself to hate or even truly dislike her.  I just don’t think she understands how dangerous it would be if I started giving orders,” Luna mused

“Ah, princess?” Sunlit asked, tapping on Luna’s wing.

“Hmm? Oh, sorry,” Luna hurriedly apologized and removed her wing from the other pony a faint blush staining her dark face. 

“For what it’s worth,” Sunlit said hesitantly, taking a deep breath, “I do think Twilight has a point.  This camp and Equestria would only benefit from you taking a closer hoof in things.  Twilight’s friend Rarity keeps me up to date and, well, it seems like you’re needed.”

“Needed like a horn in the gut,” Luna said bitterly.  “There would be no rebellion had I not made such mistakes in the first place.  Celestia would still be here and there would have been no Nightmare if I had just accepted that I was not and am not a capable leader.  No, I will wait for calmer times to slowly and safely learn the ways of leadership.  I am content to fight at Twilight’s discretion and that is all I will do.”

“Princess, without you, as a leader not just a fighter, there may not be calmer times,” Sunlit said directly.  “Anypony who has lived as long as you have is going to make mistakes.  But you could also use what you know to do so much good for all of us.”

“My sister managed to do a great deal of good without making mistakes like mine,” Luna responded.

“Without warning anypony she left Equestria in the hooves of an uncertain pony recently returned from exile and unfamiliar with our modern era.  I’d call that a mistake.”  Sunlit’s nostrils flared and a rare tinge of anger colored her words.

Luna’s ears drooped and her whole body wilted.  “See?  You do think me running Equestria was a mistake.”

“I think it was your sister’s mistake, and one that placed unfair pressure on you,” Sunlit correctly gently.  “And you yourself admitted that you made some mistakes.  But princess, over the past six months I have gotten to know you.  The real you, not the placeholder that memory spell gave me.  You know what?  Despite any mistakes you may have made, I trust you.”  Sunlit smiled and offered Luna a wing hug of her own.  “Just try and trust yourself a little more.”

Returning the hug, Luna managed a small smile.  “Perhaps you are right.  After all, if you and Twilight say the same thing, then it bears listening to.  I will think on what you’ve said.”

“That’s all I can ask,” Sunlit replied.  She scooped up Luna’s dinner tray on one wing and trotted to the door.  It glowed blue as Luna’s magic swung it open and Sunlit glanced back.  “Thank you.  Anything else I can get you, princess?”

“No, you’ve done more than enough and I will be retiring soon.  See you tomorrow morning.”

“Alright then, good night.”

“All nights are good for the night is mine,” Luna declared.

“That’s the spirit!” Sunlit cheered.  They shared a chuckle as she departed and Luna’s magic closed the door behind her.

Force of habit led Luna to her painting room.  There the moonlight bathed her easel through the skylight, setting the white paper aglow.  Her paints too glimmered in the fey blue light.  Reaching out with her magic she grasped her brushes and set to work.

She did not go so deep into herself this night as she had previously.  There was not the same need to assuage pain and lose herself in the act of creation.  Still, as the brushes moved she felt the familiar trance come over her.  Eyes unseeing, she painted by the light of her own moon.

It did not take long this time.  Before she knew it, Luna found herself cleaning her brushes, the completed painting waiting behind her.  When the brushes were clean and the pallet squared away, she had no further cause to procrastinate.  She approached the canvas, eyes down, knowing that the hope she felt was futile.

And so it was. 

Raising her eyes, she beheld a version of herself, her mane and tail not ethereal but a plain light blue.  Her body was small, no larger than an ordinary pony.  Luna looked as she had on the day she returned from the moon, after the Elements of Harmony had pulled her from the Nightmare.

It was not what she wanted to see because it was not herself, not truly.  Nevertheless, today had not been a bad day and her younger innocent self was not the Nightmare.  So there were no tears today as she carried the painting into her gallery and placed it into the wall.  No smiles either, as she left the room that carried so many reminders of her greatest sin.  Sometimes calmness and dry eyes are the most that can be fairly asked for, and the most that can be granted.


***


The next day found Luna approaching the lone park within the pony encampment.  Truthfully, she had wanted to spend another day perched on the roof looking for some trace of Celestia.  However, she had set up the days on which she borrowed instruments from other ponies ahead of time and she worried that missing a day would lead to them refusing to lend the instruments to her.

As she neared the park the sweet tones of the very instruments she was going to play came drifting to her ears.  When she entered the park she found that the ponies had formed themselves into an impromptu jam session and were making their way through a few simple songs like hot cross wings and white floral bells.  Even the digeridoo, played by a rough scarred earth pony veteran, was doing its level best to blend in with the other instruments.

Luna stopped to listen, enjoying the sound of music made by other ponies.  Unfortunately, one of the musicians caught sight of her and quickly broke off, cutting off the others as well.  She trotted over to Luna to apologize.  “Princess! We didn’t see you there.  We didn’t mean any harm, just getting some practice in before you arrived.  Not that you were late of course, or anything like that,” she said, stumbling over her words.

“Peace, private Willowwind,” Luna cut off the smaller pony, reading her name off her uniform.  “I liked to listen to you play, all of you,” she added, addressing the gathered group.  “By all means, please, continue.”

“Would you like to conduct us?” Willowwind asked. 

Now it was Luna’s turn to hesitate.  Conducting was a difficult task, one that could only be accomplished by the most skilled of unicorns.  A conductor was responsible not only for keeping time and guiding the music, but also for using their magic to control and balance the sounds produced.  Adjusting music in real time for greatest effect was no mean feat.  Luna understood that a new type of conductor called a “DJ” mixed and balanced the recordings of other ponies.  However, working with live music and musicians added a layer of complexity.  Luna worried she was too far out of practice and too unused to dealing with other ponies to do the task justice.

Still, Sunlit had encouraged her to trust herself more.  And if she couldn’t trust herself with a consequence free opportunity like this, how could Luna trust herself with weightier decisions?  She nodded, “Thank you, private Willowwind.  I would like to try my hoof at conducting once more.”

Moving to stand before the assembled ponies, she searched her memory for a piece of music that both she and they would know.  Nothing seemed to quite fit.  There were a few simple pieces that they all would know, but they didn’t seem worthy of an ensemble led by a princess.  She would be rather embarrassed to direct them in playing ‘twinkle twinkle little star’, even if it was thematically appropriate. Casting her mind over the more complicated pieces she knew, nothing seemed appropriate to her mood and the moment.  In any case, most of those pieces had been lost to the flow of time these past thousand years.

Instead as she looked out at the gathered ponies, waiting for her direction, she reached to that place of creation that dwells within all, mortal and immortal alike.  “Let’s make something new.”  The musicians shifted at that and glanced at one another, uncertain of this new direction.  They were professionals though, and beyond that they were soldiers and she the princess.

First Luna arranged them into sections.  On one side of their small park stood the percussion, mostly snare drums with a few other instruments to add variety to the sound.  The brass, by far the most numerous with trumpets, horns, and the odd euphonium or saxophone, stood in the center.  On the other side stood the stringed instruments.  Mostly violins, though there was one grey earth pony mare who somehow managed to play a cello standing up.

When the musicians were arranged to Luna’s satisfaction, she returned to the front and used magic to raise the ground up slightly so that all the musicians could see her.  Starting with the drums she began to work on bringing out the music that was just beginning to take shape in her head.  Each section was separately made to play and replay at her direction and slowly the pieces merged in her head until she felt confident starting the piece in earnest.

Just as the dreamer cannot tell the moment in which they enter the dream, so too was Luna unaware of the moment when she ceased to compose the music and began to conduct it.  As the whole group began to play together, Luna’s awareness of the world faded.  No longer could she tell the composer from the music, it was hers through and through.  The beat of the drums was the beat of her own heart, the brass her breath and the strings the creaking of her sinews.  The addition of the other ponies should have merely made it rougher, less pristine compared to the music she had played alone.

And yet, somehow, this music felt more real.  More intimate.  The gestalt of the musicians, even with their own quirks was a glorious and intensely personal exaltation of the Lunar Princess.

At its core there was a military theme inherent in the steady beat of the drums.  Layered over top of that base was a strange cyclical melody.  First the brass would own the melody and it was bright and shining, almost playful in its sheer exhilarated celebration and joy.  Then, as the piece wore on, the brass waned and the tone of the music darkened.  As it fell the strings waxed stronger and took over the melody.  A deeper tone controlled the music, led by that talented grey cellist. There was a fey wildness to the music now, a deepness that spoke of deeds both thrilling and terrifying done in dark of night.  Sparks fairly flew from their bows, threading midnight longings through steadily sinking notes.  

At its deepest, when the instruments reached the depth of their range or, in some cases, the depths of pony hearing, the brass flared suddenly to life.  Like a comet in the night the brass pushed back against the darker tones.  It brought a return of playfulness and childlike innocence.  And the cycle began again.

Dimly, Luna was aware of the gathering onlookers and through that she knew that the music they now played was no simple practice session.  Something was happening here.  Something old, something new, something borrowed, something – she looked down at her coat and chuckled – blue.

And then there was the music again, whisking her away.  She climbed her way through its soaring peaks and slid down to the deepest troughs.  She felt magic, immortal magic, draining out of her, but it was removed, distant, like sitting still to watch the far off motion of the moon and stars.  

In place of the magic, the music was filling her up.  A rising tide stormed through her, sending her heart racing and blood pounding and mind spinning into infinity.  Racing back through memories, dancing over joys and sorrows.  It was too much, all too much, and Luna felt it bubble up and overflow.

Not losing her place as conductor, for the magic or the music – or was there even a difference – would not allow it, Luna opened her mouth to give voice to her self.  Her tongue naturally found its way to old Equestrian. The first language, one she and her sister had created together over many long years, so that they might understand one another and name the world and all its parts.  It was a language familiar to perhaps ten ponies that currently lived and maybe four that spoke it fluently.

So it was with greatest shock that when Luna began to sing, her song roared forth from the throat of every musician’s not already using their mouth to make music.  It wasn’t just the musicians either.  From all around Luna could hear the onlookers, observers no more, join in singing words of a song none could know, in a language none could speak.

They were not puppets in their singing, each brought to the music their own individuality.  A faint Trottingham accent from the grey mare, a lisp from a child too young to form the harsher buzzes of that ancient language, a clipped precise shortness from the soldiers, all blended in her – their – music.  

As Luna surveyed the gather ponies, truly seeing them for the first time, she did not find the glazed mindlessness of thralls, as she’d feared she would.  Instead all eyes shone with pride, with joy, and yes, with love for their Lunar Princess.  Tears ran unstinting down Luna’s face, but her voice did not waver.  It grew stronger instead, stretching out from a mortal voice to that of a goddess, gathering up all the threads offered by the ponies and weaving them together into one harmonious cord.

To say that Luna never wanted the music to end would be true, but it would miss the point.  This experience, this music, sprung not from some external source, but from the wellspring of magic within Luna’s own self reaching out to connect with the magic that lurks in every soul.  Swept along as she was, it was still her piece and, if she wished it, she could have prolonged the piece until the other ponies chose not to continue or collapsed from exhaustion.  However, that choice would have been unworthy of the music, tarnishing the beauty they had just created.

So at the appropriate time, neither rushing nor hurrying, Luna gently but firmly brought the music to its conclusion.  As the last strains of the music died away silence took its place.  No pony quite knew what to say, still caught as they were in the unity of the experience.  Luna wanted to say something, to thank them all for being a part of this, but her throat closed up and words just wouldn’t come.

It fell to the old digeridoo player to be the first to speak.  “For Princess Luna,” he said, his soft voice booming into the stillness.

“For the New Lunar Republic!” cheered another soldier.  Others took up the call.

“The New Lunar Republic!”

“Lunar Republic!”

“For the honor of the glorious New Lunar Republic!”

“What they said!”

If Luna had been unable to speak before there was absolutely no chance she’d be able to now.  It took everything she had just to wave to the crowd.  She stepped down from her conductor’s platform and the crowd parted, allowing her to walk away.  Her mask of dignity was a thin veneer hiding the tumult within.  Behind her she could hear the ponies excitedly discussing what had just happened, explaining it to those not fortunate enough to have reached the park in time to join in. 

Luna spent the rest of the day trying to process what she had done in that park that afternoon.  The creative fugue was not unknown to her.  In the past her most beautiful creations had been the result of that state.  Indeed, it was those very creations that she had hoped might be appreciated by the other ponies in the same way they appreciated Celestia’s peace and order. 

This time had been different.  Never before had the creative fugue included other ponies.  Luna had not even known that was possible.  She had viewed true creation as a high and lonely endeavor, a state knowable to other ponies only through its fruits.  With this music she had been joined in her fugue by as many as a hundred other ponies, each bringing with them their own perspectives and imperfections.  Luna would have thought such a collection of mortal fallibility would inevitably leave her creation less than it would otherwise have been.  

Instead, it was as fine an effort as she had ever made.  And more, it had been beloved by all who heard or made it.  Luna knew in her heart that it would spread, the music crafted today would echo long into the future.  A belief that was confirmed when Sunlit Rooms returned in the evening and reported that the music had been titled the Anthem of the Lunar Republic. 

The music was carved into the souls of each pony that had played it and they were eagerly teaching the words and music to others.  Later repetitions by pony’s that had not been present were not quite the same.  They did not have the same grandeur or magic, but the heart of the piece survived.  Thrived, even, as it spread from pony to pony.  Luna looked upon her work and saw that it was good.

That evening, when she painted her daily self-portrait it was again a picture of her younger self.  Still, she fancied that the blue of her coat was just a tad deeper and her mane contained just a hint of her ethereal stars.  

It was a start.
> Arc 2 Chapter 4: Negotiations
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

BANG-BANG!

Luna was jerked into wakefulness by a sharp rapping on the door to her building.  Her heart pounded and wings fluttered, encouraging her to swift motion.  Her first thought was that the encampment was under attack, but if that had been the case Luna would have heard screams and shouted orders from the outside.  Instead, her night still seemed relatively calm.  A quick glance to her moon informed her that sunrise was perhaps two hours away.

Having ruled out the more urgent possibility, Luna felt the adrenaline flowing through her veins begin to subside.  She considered ignoring the noise and hoping it would go away, but the knocking came again, louder and more urgent than before.

Yawning, Luna shrugged off her cloud cover and stumbled blearily to her hooves.  Making her way downstairs she saw a similarly sleep mussed Sunlit Rooms making her way to the door.

“You’ve been staying here?” Luna asked, blinking stupidly.

Confused, Sunlit stopped before the door and glanced over her shoulder.  “Yes?  Should I not be?  How did you think I was able to wake you up each morning anyway?”

“I didn’t think about it, I guess.  You can keep staying here of course.  I would have been less… ah, careless.”

Sunlit smiled.  “It’s fine princess.  Should I let whoever that is in?”

Luna nodded.  “You’d better.  They sound liable to break the door down if you don’t.”

Gripping the door in her wing, Sunlit swung it open and a frantic Twilight Sparkle burst into the room.   She caught sight of Luna first and surged toward her.  “Luna! I need your help.”

“Calm down Twilight Sparkle.  If we’re not under attack then you can afford to take a deep breath and explain the situation to me in a reasonable manner.”  Luna couldn’t deny that she felt a twinge of joy at being the self-controlled pony for once.  “Sunlit will you make us some tea?”

“Of course princess,” Sunlit replied.

“There’s no time for tea,” Twilight interjected.  “We have to hurry –“

“Twilight!” Luna gasped.  “Surely Celestia taught you that there is always time for tea.”  Now that she looked closer she could see the redness of the other pony’s eyes and the trembling of fatigue in her muscles.  That just served to convince Luna that she was correct in insisting that the other pony deliver her news over tea. 

“I –“ Twilight paused and Luna could almost see the little schedule pop up in her head as she tried to figure out if she had the time.  With a conscious effort and a few deep breaths the panicked pony brought herself under control.  “No, you’re right.  We have a lot to talk about and I’ll need some caffeine to get through today anyway.  Sunlit, Earl Grey please, as strong as you can brew it.”

“Right away,” Sunlit called, passing into the kitchen and putting the water on the stove.

“While she’s making the tea please come sit down,” Luna said, leading Twilight into a study off the entrance hall.  The room was smaller and cozier, with plush purple couches set on either side of a low wooden coffee table.  With a flick of magic Luna lit the lamps, filling the room with a warm orange glow.

Twilight sighed as she walked in, letting some of the tension drain away as she settled on one of the couches.  Luna took the other and watched as the smaller pony re-centered herself.  Twilight already looked less frantic than when she had arrived and despite herself seemed to take comfort from being with the princess.  

Luna wasn’t so vain as to think that the comfort came from her.  It was memory and the similarity of sitting down to tea with Celestia that brought comfort now.  She also suspected that pointing that fact out would make Twilight angry.  Still, she was pleased to provide what comfort she could.  After all, any event that could send Twilight to her in such a state was liable to be pretty serious.

Sunlit returned a few moments later with the tea and gracefully placed the teacups in front of each of them.  She was about to leave when Luna caught her eye and gestured for her to stay.  To Luna, it was Sunlit’s presence that was a comfort.  She had seen Luna at her worst, recent worst anyway, and was still there.

Twilight meanwhile raised the teacup to her lips, inhaled the bright citrus scent, and sighed.  After a small fortifying drink she began to explain what had brought her running in the middle of the night.  

“A few hours ago one of the scouts reported that Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy have been captured by the griffons.”

Luna started.  “No, not those two.  They’re not soldiers.  They should have been protected!  How could they have been stolen from the midst of our camp?”

“They weren’t in our camp,” Twilight grimaced.  “I thought Fluttershy’s rapport with animals would be useful, so I sent her outside to instruct the local wildlife to leave the area, to put pressure on the griffons.”  She averted her eyes and her ears pressed flat against her head.  “It was a mistake.”

“I see.”  Luna’s tone was reserved, the judgment implicit rather than explicit.  Exactly, she happened to know, the way Celestia sounded when somepony around her made an error.  It had the expected effect for Twilight’s shoulders slumped even further.  

Luna decided to continue on rather than rub Twilight’s face in her mistake.  After all, she was not Celestia and Twilight not her student.  Moreover, Luna of all ponies understood how it felt to make a mistake and watch the ponies you cared about pay the price.  

“We go to war then?” was all she asked.  Though the princess had not been involved with the running of the camp she had always expected to be involved in the fighting once it commenced.  Luna was no stranger to combat and, more to the point, without the power of the princess the ponies were simply too outnumbered or outmatched to have much hope of victory against the rebellious ponies, griffons, and dragons.  In a way she had been looking forward to it.  Battle was a clear and unambiguous task which was singularly good at consuming attention, leaving none for brooding.

“No,” Twilight said.  The purple pony raised her head and Luna flinched back from the fire contained there.  Even bent over tea, weeping from guilt and wracked by exhaustion, Twilight could project such an air of menace as to discomfit an immortal.  “I have a plan.  I will take them back.  The griffons will regret hurting my friends.”  The way she spoke it was a fact, not a promise or an oath or a wish, but a simple inevitability.  In that moment, Luna knew no doubt whatsoever that Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie would be returned to camp before another day was done.

“Alright, what is it you need from me then?” Luna asked.

Blinking, some of the intensity left Twilight’s eyes and she took another sip of her tea.  “I don’t know if you noticed, but Spike has been away from camp for much of the past few months.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Luna admitted.  She had been self-absorbed recently and she was now learning that there were any number of important details that had passed her by.  

“Well, he was over at the dragon encampment.  Begin a dragon I figured they wouldn’t hurt him.  At least I was right about that,” Twilight said with a trace of bitterness.  “Anyway, he finally got the dragons to agree to a meeting with me and any two ponies I choose to bring.  The problem is that that meeting is today.”

“And you want me to take your place?” Luna guessed.

“Right.” Twilight nodded.  “Spike made the arrangement for me to meet their leader.  I can’t imagine that they would oppose you as a substitute. If anything, we could spin it as doing them greater honor by sending a full immortal to meet with them.”

“I can’t,” Luna said, panic coloring her voice.  “I don’t know what we want from them or what they’ve been up to.  Hay, I don’t even know what we’ve been up to.  Besides, navigating this war has been your task, not mine.

“That’s just because you refused to have anything to do it and practically locked yourself away,” Twilight shot back.  “No, wait.”  She held up a hoof to forestall a reply.  “I’m sorry.  I don’t have the time to have this same argument again.  It doesn’t matter what happened before, what matters is that right now I need you to go meet with the dragons.  There is no pony else that they would accept.  Spike is up to date on what they have been doing.  He can guide you.”

“That won’t help me much if I don’t know what we want to get out of this negotiation,” Luna pointed out.  “That’s assuming I go talk to them at all,” she hurriedly added.

“I’ll go.” Sunlit Rooms said, startling both Luna and Twilight who had forgotten she was there.  “Rarity came to me early on for advice about how to best act as an advisor to Twilight.  She’s kept me up to date since then.”  The pegasus turned to Twilight.  “This works right?  You said that the dragons expected you and two other ponies.  If Luna takes myself and Spike she should be reasonably well prepared for anything they throw at her.”

“This sounds perfect.  I have the utmost confidence the ability of you three to handle it,” Twilight said, perking up slightly.

“Hold on,” Luna protested.  “I still haven’t agreed to go.”

“It’ll be good for you,” Sunlit said.  “Get you out of this house and involved with things again.  I’ve been worried about all the time you’ve been sulking in here.  Princess,” Sunlit added belatedly.

“Just give me a moment to think, please.”  Sunlit fell silent at Luna’s request.  Luna knew it would not be easy to negotiate with the dragons.  They were, as a rule, a subtle race and long-lived.  Many among their number would easily remember her as she had been before the Nightmare.  In a way that would almost make it easier.  She would not have to establish anew that she was not to be trifled with.  They would have a proper appreciation for the power of an immortal.

Still, Luna’s track record had not been terribly good of late.  Mismanaging this rare opportunity would be quite a setback, possibly a catastrophic one.  However, even with that risk it was clear Twilight was determined to save her friends, and in truth Luna could not fault her for that.  If Luna did not go, there really wasn’t any other pony whose presence the dragons would not take as a slight.  On the other hoof, maybe the meeting could be rescheduled?

As Luna wavered from one choice to the other she heard a soft sound begin to fill the study.  Even before she recognized it, it filled her with peace and strengthened her resolve. Only after a moment did she realize it was the barest melody of the Lunar Anthem.  There was no magic in it now, no grand inspired orchestra to play her song.  Only a friend, whiling away a spare moment humming a song of Luna’s devising.

Luna caught Sunlit’s eye and the other pony realized what she was doing.  She blushed and looked away, mumbling an apology.

“You don’t need to stop,” Luna said gently.  “When did you have time to learn that anyway?”

Looking up Sunlit replied, “the pony that told me about the Lunar Anthem sang a few bars.  It’s the kind of song that just sticks in your head.  But in a good way,” she hastened to add. 

“I’m missing something,” Twilight put in, looking confusedly from one to the other.

“I wrote some music yesterday and it seems to have caught on with some of the camp members,” Luna explained, still looking at Sunlit, who scoffed at Luna’s understatement.  Twilight, though, accepted the explanation.

“So, will you go meet with the dragons in my place?” she asked.

Luna took one last glance at Sunlit’s encouraging expression.  “Yes,” Luna said.  “I will meet with the dragons.”  She sat up straighter, trying to fake a confidence she didn’t feel.  “I only hope that this doesn’t prove to be a terrible mistake.”


***


Far too soon, Luna found herself making her way out of the camp to meet with the dragons.  She had been up half the night being coached by Sunlit and Spike, who was much taller than she remembered, but she still felt unprepared.  Twilight had not stayed around to help with that coaching.  

In fact, after Luna had agreed to take her place, Twilight had disappeared with a speed usually reserved for Rainbow Dash.  Now she had the whole camp in an uproar.  All around Luna ponies were dashing this way and that to see to Twilight’s plans for the army's mobilization.

Privately, Luna couldn’t help but feel that more of that bustle should have been dedicated to the princess currently going to negotiate with the most dangerous of their current opponents, excepting Sombra.  Still, ponies had gotten used to asking “how high?” when Twilight said jump.  Besides which, it was Fluttershy that had been captured.  Half of the camp wanted to marry Fluttershy, while the other half simply wanted to murder anypony that bothered her.  So Luna could understand the urgency with which the other ponies moved and she did her best to tamp down her jealousy.

“Ready to fly?” she asked, glancing at her two compatriots.

Sunlit managed a nod.  Her white fur had gone even paler and she appeared to be rethinking the wisdom of literally flying into a den of dragons.  Luna tried and failed to suppress a sliver of satisfaction that the other pony had caught her trepidation.

Spike, though, had no such reservations.  With a grin he leapt into the air and a shout of joy drifted down to the hesitant ponies.  Suppressing a smile at his antics Luna nudged Sunlit with her wing.  “Come on, worst comes to worst we make no progress and go back to this little cold conflict of ours.”

“Worst is that we get eaten by a herd of hungry dragons,” Sunlit grumbled, though she did spread her wings and take to the air.

Luna spread her own wings and with a rush joined her in the air.  “It’s a horde of dragons, actually, or a blaze.  And if you’re worried about getting eaten, don’t be.  I might very well make a mistake in this negotiation and force us to return empty hooved.  However, I am still an immortal princess of Equestria.  I can and I will shepherd you and Spike home safely.  You have my word on that.”

Sunlit’s countenance brightened.  “Thanks princess.”

Wheeling sideways on a thermal, Spike came up next to the two mares, grin still plastered on his face.  “There’s nothing better than flying,” he shouted breathlessly.  “I can’t imagine this ever getting old.”

“Take it from me Spike,” Luna said.  “After you’ve lived for hundreds or thousands of years most pleasures lose their luster.  Flying however,” she added with a mischievous grin of her own, “is not one of them.  Race you!” she called, already accelerating away.

Spiked whooped with glee and sped after her, with Sunlit trailing behind but  keeping up as best she could.  The cold clear air of the sky was refreshing to Luna.  It had been far too long since she last took wing.  In fact, she hadn’t gone for a flight since the evening her sister disappeared.  

With that realization Luna’s temporary good mood soured.  She knew that she would need that calmness, though, and she tried to drink in what she could of the sky’s serenity.  All too soon the three of them circled downward toward the guarded entrance of the dragon encampment.  While the plan had initially been to meet at a halfway location, the dragons had leveraged the change in negotiator to change the location of the negotiations to their own camp.

Unlike the ponies, who were based in a residential area of the former Crystal Empire, the dragons had made their camp in the industrial district.  Dragons being solitary by nature, they had each claimed a factory, forge, or other shop as their dwelling.  They took turns guarding the border, but each dragon also took time to make sure the place in which they lived was not entered by the other dragons.  In a way, Luna thought, the biggest surprise was that over one hundred dragons had managed to work together in relatively close quarters for six months without massacring one another.

All of which was not to say that dragons were not friendly to one another.  Indeed, as they entered the camp they were greeted by the dragons on duty.  Spike chatted amicably with a brown dragon as he guided the pony delegation to the place where Sim and the other dragon leaders waited.  He broke off every now and again to wave to other dragons as they passed.

“You’re not going native on us, are you Spike?” Luna teased.

He spread his arms wide and shot her an ironic glance, as if to say it was a little late for that.  Luna chuckled, partially to cover her returning nervousness.  As she kept a wary eye on her surroundings she noticed something peculiar.  Every now and then they would pass an open foundation of a building with the walls and floor all torn to pieces.  Luna had believed that whatever stasis magic had held the Crystal Empire out of time for those thousand years had preserved everything equally, but that appeared not to be the case.

Trotting forward, she interrupted the guide’s conversation with Spike.  “Pardon me.  What happened to those buildings? Did you find them in ruins?”

“We ate them.”  The guide puffed smoke in amusement at Luna’s surprise and continued.  “We brought supplies of course, but when somedrake tried the crystal they found it was one of the most delicious stones they’d ever tasted.  Since then most dragons have left our supplies alone and switched to eating the crystals.  After all,” he added, gesturing expansively, “it isn’t as though we’re going to run out.”

“Are these crystals as good as the other dragons say, Spike?” Luna asked.

“I wouldn’t know,” Spike grumbled.  “Iolite has me on a strict diet.  Apparently, living with ponies has left me deficient in certain nutrients dragons need to develop.  And she claims the crystals are all empty calories.”

“You never snuck a bite?” Luna asked skeptically.

“I figured I’m not going to get that many chances to learn from other dragons, so I’d be pretty stupid not to listen to advice like that,” Spike said matter-of-factly.  “I didn’t have my wings before Iolite fixed that for me because Twilight and I simply didn’t know about them.  So yeah, I took her seriously when she told me to stick to certain gemstones and minerals.”

“That’s a very mature outlook.  You’re growing up Spike,” Luna said.

“Turns out those two things are related.  It’s easier to make the mature choice when I’m this size than it was when I was small.”  He shrugged.  “I guess it’s all part of getting older.”

“We’ve arrived,” the guide broke in.  “I’ll be seeing you Spike.”  

“Catch you around,” Spike responded, waving farewell as the guide departed.

They had arrived at the largest forge in the district.  Towering smokestacks puffed forth black clouds from the roof and even from outside the aura of heat was palpable.  Based on the contours the door had once been a grand carved wooden affair but now, like everything else, it was an opaque crystal, albeit with a brown tint.  Spike took hold of the door and heaved it open.  He gestured for the two ponies to enter.

Inside the room was expansive.   A high ceiling was crisscrossed by ex-wooden support beams with spaces for the chimneys.  On one wall glowed a truly massive forge, heating the room to an uncomfortable warmth.  Looking closer, Luna could see that the heat from the forge came from an open pool of lava set into the floor.  There were wards inscribed around the edges, channeling the heat and containing it.  Luna felt a chill at odds with the stuffy room as she realized that that forge was incredibly old.  The magic that kept it contained was older than ponykind and it was very possible that the industrial district, if not the entire city, had been built around this ancient alter to creative power.  It provided some small measure of relief that the dragons did not appear to be making anything in the forge.  The heat simply provided comfort, much the way a pony might open a window in a stuffy room. 

On the opposite side of the room from the forge, as a concession to their pony visitors, the dragons had found and laid out two pony sized couches.  Next to those couches waited the dragon’s delegation to the negotiations.  In the central position hovered Simulacra Seven.  It was coiled comfortably in midair and its black eyes glinted in the dim light.  On its right hand rested Iolite.  She sat up when Spike entered and now was making her way over to the group.  On Sim’s other side sat a tiny red dragon Spike identified as Thraxus.

Iolite reached the ponies and gave a hurried, if proper, curtsy to Princess Luna, who nodded back.  Scarcely waiting for the acknowledgement Iolite rushed over to Spike. 

“Are you alright?” she asked in an undertone.  “They didn’t mistreat you did they?”

“I’ve lived with ponies for most of my life, Iolite,” Spike said patiently.  “They wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I know, I know, it’s just that you’re so young to be going off on your own.  But then,” she added with a note of pride, “you are big for your age.”

“That’s enough clucking over the hatchling.”  Sim’s voice was still fluid and persuasive but there was an edge to it that Luna had not heard when last they spoke.  “We have serious matters to discuss.  Do we not, princess?”

“Yes, you are quite right,” Luna answered, taking the seat directly across from it.  She intoned, “I am Luna, Princess of Night and Moon, accompanied by Spikorean Magic-hatched and Sunlit Rooms, Royal Advisor.  We have come to parley.”

Matching her ceremony more brusquely, Sim replied, “I am Simulacra Seven, undying dragon construct, accompanied by Iolite and Thraxus.  We accept your parley and guarantee your safe return from our territory.”

“Excellent.”  Luna leaned forward.  “Well then, no need to mince words, what exactly is it you are after?”

Sim held up a claw.  “Not yet, these discussions are rather sensitive in nature.  Could I request that you put up a ward against eavesdropping?”

Luna raised an eyebrow.  “Why don’t you set it up?”

“This is our camp.  If we were to be overheard it would be more likely to be one of our dragons.  If you set it up you’ll be able to trust that the ward is working.  Plus, as Princess you can make a ward even dragons can’t penetrate.”  It shot her a meaningful look.

Nodding slowly, Luna reached for her magic.  “Right then, I'll set one up now.”  A ward against eavesdropping was relatively easy.  A ward that would hold against dragon magic was rather more complicated.  Not for nothing, though, was Luna a princess and in short order she had used a sound dampening spell to set up the preliminary shell which she then supercharged to resist dragon magic as best she could.  She also set an alert on it so she would be informed of any attempts to break through the ward.

“Alright, it’s done.  No pony, and no drake for that matter, should be able to hear us.”  Luna narrowed her eyes.  “Now what is the real reason you wanted to prevent us from being overheard?”

“Perceptive, princess.  But perhaps not perceptive enough.”  It hissed on the sibilant syllables, putting Luna in mind of a cobra rearing to strike.  An image not helped by the way Sim had coiled most of its body on the floor and was unconsciously bobbing its head back and forth.  “Tell me, have you looked for immortal magic here?” 

“I have done so repeatedly ever since I arrived here,” Luna said uneasily.

“Do ssso again. Now.” the hiss had become more pronounced.

“That would leave me vulnerable.  Why don’t you just tell me what you think I would see?”

Sim considered for a moment and then shook its head.  “No.  How about a wager?  I have a guess and if I am correct you will look for immortal magic.  If not, I will tell you what I have been speaking of.  And I will agree to whatever you hoped to gain from these negotiationssss to the fullest extent of my power.” Sim sounded entirely too amused by its concession for everything to be above board.  However, the chance of an immediate and complete success at the negotiation was too tempting to pass up entirely.

“I reserve the right to cancel the deal if your guess is something obvious or trivial,” Luna clarified.

“Deal,” Sim said.  “I guess that every time you have looked for immortal magic in the Crystal Empire it has been from the exact same location.”

Luna twitched.  There was no way it could know that.  Looking for immortal magic wasn’t completely trivial, but it was not so complicated that she couldn’t have done it at almost any moment in the past six months. Unless Sim had set a watch on her the entire time, there was no way for it to be so sure.  

“That is correct,” Luna said carefully, “and there does not appear to be any way you could have known that.”

“Look,” it urged.  “Look and this mystery will become clear.”

“Alright.  Sunlit, Spike, be ready for treachery.”  Sunlit tried to frown menacingly and only succeeded in looking adorable.  Spike, with his glare, claws, and fangs, managed to be rather more threatening.  Sharing one last look with the two of them, Luna closed her eyes and reached within for her immortal magic.

The magic came easily, that at least she could do without difficulty.  Luna allowed it to rise and give her the sight, just as she had when she had sat atop her building and looked for her sister.  When she opened her eyes everything became immediately, terrifyingly clear.

Luna was surrounded by the darkness of King Sombra’s magic.  Her body tensed, preparing to run but there was no direction in which to flee.  A pony touching a hot pan will naturally flinch back, but a pony in an oven is going to have to think of something cleverer.  So too did Luna, prevented from fleeing the darkness, force herself to turn the panic toward some useful end.

Peering closer at the darkness she began to understand what had happened.  The darkness was present, yes, but it adhered closely to the edges of the rivers of immortal magic, appearing to her eyes as light, that ran through the Crystal Empire.  Such lights naturally cast shadows on her vision and she had thought those shadows entirely normal.  Now she knew better.

With a chill, Luna realized that the situation was even worse than it appeared at first blush.  The darkness was clearly visible from where she stood, it was only from her perch on top of her dwelling place that the darkness would blend with the ordinary shadows cast on her vision by the Crystal Empire’s natural magic.  In other words, the entire city was an optical illusion where, if one stood in the proper spot, there was no darkness to see.  An optical illusion meant solely for her.

Luna could scarcely conceive of the magical skill and knowledge of the city that would have been necessary to create that illusion.  With a lifetime of work and liberal use of her immortal magic she might have been able to manage a single static image.  Sombra, an apparently mortal pony, had managed to preserve the illusion while spreading his influence across the city.  That was terrifying, even to her.  It was a good thing she had feared a trap in the Crystal Spire or she might have walked straight into a head to head battle that she could not win.

She followed the threads of shadow out past the forge in which she sat.  There were the thick cords of darkness, hidden in the shadows cast by the Crystal Empire’s light, but there were also smaller moving patches.  They weren’t large enough for her to have seen them from her tower so apparently Sombra hadn’t felt the need to hide them.  But what were they?

Dragons, Luna realized abruptly.  The dragons moving around camp each had a dark ember burning in their chests.  Which meant there was an even more pressing danger than the darkness looming on all sides.

Blinking away her immortal sight and readying offensive spells she wheeled on Simulacra Seven.  Spike was quick on the uptake and before she even cast anything he had Sim grasped firmly in his claws.

“Wait, wait!” Sim shouted desperately, aplomb breaking for the first time.  “We’re not under Sombra’s control.”

Luna hesitated. She hadn’t seen any darkness in the brief look she’d had at it, but there was so much she’d clearly missed there was no way to be certain.  “Can you prove it?” she asked.

“I know how he’s controlling the other dragons.  You’ll have to judge for yourself if that is sufficient,” Sim said.  Iolite and Thraxus hadn’t moved, the former because she wasn’t willing to do anything to her son, and the latter because his size meant there wasn’t much he could do.  Luna glanced at the two to gauge their reaction before nodding to Sim.

“Continue,” she said, gesturing to Spike to release his hold.

“No being, not even an immortal could brute force their way into control of a dragon’s mind,” Sim began.  “So Sombra had to take a different route.  He slipped his power into the crystals that make up the buildings and the roads.”

“Crystals ever were his specialty,” Luna commented.  “And you didn’t notice because only immortals can visually detect immortal magic.” 

“Right.  We do have spells that can notify us of the presence of immortal magic, but they have to be actively cast and we had no reason to scan the walls.  Plus we knew that you were here and that there was a source of powerful immortal magic buried beneath the city.”  Sim shook its head regretfully.  “Overconfidence played a role as well.  We dragons have grown used to disregarding the subtler effects of magic because so few can impact us.”

“You claim to still be unaffected, correct?” Luna asked.

“Yes, those you see here are unaffected, but not immune.”  Sim gestured at the crystal walls around them.  “Sombra placed his magic in the crystals and waited.  Eventually, somedrake grew hungry and took a bite of the wall.  They told all the other dragons how delicious it tasted and pretty soon almost everydrake had imbibed Sombra’s darkness and fallen under his spell.  It’s mostly luck that the four of us did not do so as well.”

Spike looked shaken.  “You mean if Iolite and I hadn’t been following that special diet she laid out for me Sombra would have gotten us as well?” 

Sim nodded.  “Yes.  You fortunately restricted yourselves to the gemstones brought by the other dragons from our homeland.  I, as a construct, have different energy and nutrition requirements and I wasn’t sure if I could digest the crystals anyway.”

“I sought to regain my former size,” Thraxus put in.  “So when other dragons forewent their allotted portions of gemstones I collected them to add to my horde.”

“There’s just one thing I don’t understand,” Sunlit said, breaking her silence and startling everyone but Luna, who had grown used to the other ponies’ tendency to be forgotten during important discussions.  “If you haven’t been taken over by Sombra then why did you lure us into your camp with a promise of negotiations you can’t possibly fulfil?”

“Clever,” Sim said with a small smile.  “You are quite right, this is not a negotiation.  It’s a rescue.”  It ceased to hover and lowered its entire body to the floor in an approximation of supplication.  “Princess Luna, goddess of night and moon, we surrender without reservation and humbly plead with thee for sanctuary.”

Fortunately, Luna was spared the need to answer as she had no idea what she would have said.  Spike had made a strange noise, as though all the air had whooshed out of him.  When Luna looked over she had to look down as well because he had shrunk by a few inches.  

“We have to go.  Now.”  Spike’s tone was flat, his expression was anything but.  Abstractly, Luna noted that his purple face had gone white.  She hadn’t even known dragons could do that.

“Spike, it’s nothing to worry about,” Iolite said comfortingly.  “Somedrake has probably just taken a gem or two from your hoard as a warning.  These things happen.”

Spike didn’t even glance her way, he held Luna’s gaze with his own and she flinched back before his intensity.  “My hoard is the Elements of Harmony.  Something has happened to one of the Elements.”

At his words Luna felt her own wave of fear that nearly sent her to her knees.  She fought it down.  They could do nothing for the Elements until they left the dragon encampment and their own situation was precarious enough as it was.

“They will not let you leave,” Sim said, raising only its head from the ground.  “This is too promising an opportunity for them to capture the princess.” 

“We can’t teleport?” she asked.

It shook its head.  “There are wards, much the same as your encampment has.”

“And if we try to fly they’ll just burn us out of the sky,” Luna mused.  A small part of her noted that Sim and she had both included the other dragons in their number, implying that she had indeed accepted their plea for sanctuary.  But that was unimportant now in the face of their urgent need to leave.

“Luna if we can’t think of something I’m making a break for it.”  Tension hummed from every word Spike said, like a sword half drawn from its sheath and already aching for blood.

“Give me a second,” she snapped.  Trying to cudgel her fearful brain into working Luna scanned the room, looking for inspiration.  Her eyes fell on the forge at the far end and an idea sparked to life.  “Sim, are you as fireproof as an ordinary dragon?”

“Yes,” it replied.

Turning, Luna looked at Sunlit.  “Do you trust me, Sunlit Rooms?”

“With my life, Princess,” the pegasus answered without hesitation.

Luna pointed to the pool of lava.  “Then that’s our way out.  Sunlit, you’ll ride on my back and I’ll protect us both from the heat.  The dragons will help part the lava as we go.  Once we’re away from the dragon encampment we’ll try and find a vent, or I’ll blast us a passage to the surface.”

“Brilliant,” Sim chuckled.  “A true dragon might consider that escape route but I doubt one controlled by Sombra would.  I am more easily able to move in a viscous fluid like lava, so I will lead the way.”

The four dragons took up positions around the pool of lava.  Sunlit flew up and landed on Luna’s back, clutching her tightly around the neck.  Luna reached for her magic to fashion the ward they would need.  It was straightforward since it would only need to protect against pressure and heat, but the sheer amount of each would make it very expensive to cast and maintain.  But then, Luna was not overly concerned with running out of magic.

As the ward shimmered into place Luna heard Sunlit murmur, “I just want you to know that if we die a fiery death I don’t blame you in the least.  Even though I probably should.”

Luna raised a comforting wing against Sunlit’s side.  “Trust me, I’m not worried about fire from inanimate places.  This is safer than trying to make it past the dragons.”

“Just tell me when it’s over, princess,” Sunlit whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Are you ready?” Sim asked.  When Luna nodded it arced up and slithered head first into the pool of bubbling lava.  Iolite and Thraxus, the former holding the latter so the smaller dragon wouldn’t be lost in the lava currents, followed.

“I just hope we’re not too late,” Spike said as he slid his way into the lava.

So do I, thought Luna.  She stepped forward and dove into the holes in the lava created by the passage of the dragons.
> Arc 2 Chapter 5: A First Taste of Battle
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight had been busy.

News of Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie’s capture had come late at night after a full day of work.  Naturally, there’d been no question of sleep, not while her friends were in enemy talons, so she’d hauled herself up and set to work.  Soldiers were dragged from their beds, including Captain Armor, and slowly a plan began to form.

The scout that had brought the report had been thorough, stealthily tracking and listening to the griffons within their camp to confirm that they had the missing ponies.  Fortunately, the scout had also heard what the griffons intended to do with them.

It was a rather ironic inversion of Twilight’s original plan.  The griffons intended for Fluttershy to call in as many animals as she could for the griffons to harvest.  The site of that gruesome butchery was to be in a rock outcropping outside the city walls, close enough to be easily accessible by air, but far enough that pony patrols would not have stumbled over the griffons by chance.

With the knowledge of the location and the griffon’s intentions, Twilight had set to work. There had been a small hiccup at the beginning, namely that she needed to go meet with the dragons.  Negotiations were at a delicate stage and if she slighted them by not attending the long memory and pride of the draconic race would prevent them from speaking to her again this century.  Out of options, she had gone to beg Luna, as the only other pony the dragons would accept, to attend in her place.

Truthfully, that conversation had taken place in the dead of night and Twilight had only hazy recollections of it.  Still, she remembered feeling content as she was leaving so she assumed it was taken care of.  Or rather, she’d done what she could and if she had to pick between saving her friends and making peace with the dragons, there was simply no contest.

Tea had not been cutting it, so Twilight had knocked back a few cups of the sludge-like coffee the troops referred to as Ascension.  Apparently because it gave unicorns wings.  Twilight couldn’t speak to that, but it certainly had a kick like a mule (no offense) and kept her awake and reasonably alert.  

She and Captain Armor had assembled a strike force with as much haste as possible.  Hopefully, they had enough troops to win a quick engagement and get back to camp without getting bogged down in their own numbers.  Twilight had given orders for the rest of the camp to continue readying for battle, while her forces left as soon as they were prepared.

Glancing around, Twilight confirmed that the company of soldiers she’d brought were safely hidden among the crystal rocks and crags.  They had made good time, all of them running low to the ground so griffon scouts wouldn’t find them out, and they’d reached the outcropping of rock after a little more than an hour of galloping.  They’d actually reached the spot before the griffons and set up an ambush.  Now the company waited for the griffons to make their appearance with the hostages.

The other Elements of Harmony had come, of course.  None of the remaining four were the type to wait and hope when they might be able to help.  Applejack had received a special set of armor from the other earth pony soldiers.  Apparently, it was usually given to new recruits as a bit of hazing because it was too heavy to lift.  Metal sheets draped over the wearer’s sides and each leg was encased in thick greaves designed to protect the legs while allowing some movement.  Atop the head sat a full helmet so deep that when it was worn not even the eyes were visible behind the visor.  On the helmet’s forehead was an extra thick padded area ideal for ramming.

All in all, it was a monstrous set of black armor that weighed twice again as much as a pony.  When she had been given it, Applejack had pronounced it adequate for her use.  After she had been told that it was a joke and that the armor was clearly too heavy for anypony, let alone a filly like her to use, Applejack had just chuckled. 

She wore it for three days of training in a row including during sparing practice and much to the chagrin of her partners, who just happened to be the ponies that had given her the armor in the first place. No pony had given her any grief after that and the soldiers, impressed, had begun training her in earnest.

Applejack sat with the rest of the soldiers near Captain Armor, patiently waiting for the order to charge.  Unlike fidgety pegasi or high-strung unicorns, earth ponies were fully capable of sitting absolutely still until instructed otherwise.  Only when she saw Twilight glance over did Applejack give a single wave.  Her armor creaked quietly as she moved her hoof up and then reassumed her position, looking for all the world like a boulder that would endure as long as the earth itself.

Unsurprisingly, Rarity had not opted for a full set of armor.  She wore only a grey vest, specially knitted to resist slashing talons and beaks, which covered from her neck down her barrel.  Of course, it also was stylish and flattering to her figure, but even Rarity was paying little attention to that now.  Given her dislike of physical effort her presence was the most surprising, but Twilight had needed her assistance for a spell that was a key component of her plan.

Even now, Rarity’s horn glowed and her face was screwed up in concentration.  Twilight let her gaze follow the curve of the rocks down to the open space where the griffons would land and the fruits of Rarity’s spell could be seen.  Scattered across the area were a number of mountain goats with coarse white coats and ridged curled horns rising from their heads.  Or at least that’s what a griffon would see.

To Twilight’s practiced eye some of those goats glowed with the light of illusion, visible only to those mages that knew how to look for it.  Naturally, she was helping with that particular spell.  Rarity had an eye for detail and a skill with illusions that made her ideal as the primary caster of that spell, but she lacked the power to hold it for long enough. 

To compensate for her lack of power she and Twilight were linked.  It was a little trick common in unicorn families, though Celestia had been the pony to teach it to Twilight.  If two unicorns were connected on a fundamental level, their magic could flow together, allowing one of them to cast spells fueled by the magic of both.  The exact nature of the connection varied, most commonly it was used in families to show foals exactly how a given spell was cast or to provide the magic for them to try spells on their own.  Usually, simple friends would not have a strong enough connection to link and a link could not be forced or trained in any way, limiting military applications.  Twilight though, had suspected that her friendship with Rarity, underscored as it was by the Elements of Harmony, would be sufficient to form that connection and so it had proved to be.

With a flicker of thought possible only because she was a part of the spell, Twilight looked past the illusions to the ponies – and one griffon since Gilda had refused to be left behind – that waited underneath.  Specifically, to where Rainbow Dash was crouched.  As Twilight had expected, Rainbow was fidgeting, ruffling her wings, and scuffing the ground with her hoof.  She had been instructed to move as little as possible to make things easier for Rarity, though Twilight was just grateful the other pony hadn’t taken flight or started pacing.

Unlike Rarity, Applejack, or Twilight herself, Dash had opted for no armor at all, trusting to her speed to keep her safe.  She also had decided that wingblades were too heavy to use and they just cramped her style anyway.  However, there was one pegasus weapon that she had taken a shine to.  Around each of Rainbow’s hooves was a glove made of ebonite, a hard rubber.  

Ebonite was a material on the negative end of the triboelectric series, while air and pony fur is on the positive end.  As a result, every movement Rainbow made caused electrons to flow away from the ebonite into her fur or the air around her, generating an electrostatic charge on her gloves.  As a weather pony, Rainbow’s magic was well suited to handling electrostatic charge since she dealt with thunderclouds all the time.  

Essentially, the gloves gave her an easier and quicker way to generate lightning on demand.  Or, as she had put it, they ‘put the boom in rainboom.’  Twilight had cause to believe Rainbow would be effective with her new weapons; she’d seen the craters left behind from the pegasus’ practice sessions.

Twilight, for her part, was wearing the armor that the dragons had gifted her when they had first come to court.  She had nothing to put through the wingholes of course, but when she set the straps as tight as they could go it fit pretty well.  At the very least the scales would hold against anything the griffons could do and she cut an imposing figure in the bright purple and green scaled armor, or so she hoped.  

Fortunately, the griffons arrived before Twilight could continue down the path of introspection and self-doubt.  They had come in numbers, no doubt appropriately fearing the ambush that was in fact set up around them.  Landing, they scouted out their immediate environs, though they did not go too deep into the rocks because they assumed they would have seen anything relevant from the air.  Incorrectly convinced that they were not landing directly on a trap two griffons, each holding a pony in their talons, swooped down and unceremoniously dumped those ponies in the dirt.  

The ponies were certainly not at their best.  Fluttershy’s coat was dirty and ragged and she had the beginning of a bruise forming around one eye.  Rope was wrapped around her wings, keeping her firmly on the ground even if she hadn’t been the slowest of flyers.  Pinkie was in relatively better shape, just a few smudges and tangles in her coat, but her flat dull pink mane revealed just how bad a shape she was in emotionally.

Despite how worn they appeared, Twilight felt her heart rise just to see them in one piece, to know that they were still alive.  The troops shared her energy, and she could feel their focus intensify.  On the field below Twilight saw Dash’s nervous energy infect the other ponies hidden by illusion as they too took to scuffing the ground or snorting angrily.  However, the time was not yet right and they all managed to hold themselves back.

The griffon commander was a large young tawny griffon with an eponymous red feather tucked behind his ear.  He strutted around, checking in with the scouts and giving orders to the crew of griffons that carried empty burlap sacks to bring their prey back to camp for consumption.  When everything was ready, Red Feather strode over to where Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie shivered, waiting to be told what to do.

“Now is the time,” he boomed, his loud voice easily carrying up to where Twilight and the others waited.  “Yellow pony, you will call the goats here to the slaughter.”

Ever timid, Fluttershy just cowered in place, trying desperately to disappear into the barren soil.

“Maybe you didn’t hear me,” Red Feather growled.  Seizing Fluttershy’s pink mane he lifted her and then sent her sprawling to the ground.  “Call the animals,” he commanded.

There was grumbling from the pony ranks at his treatment of Fluttershy.  “Steady, steady,” murmured Captain Armor.  They had to time their attack right, outnumbered as they were two to one.  

Twilight wished they could have brought more troops.  If they had it would have slowed their march and increased the risk of being seen by the more mobile flight-capable griffon forces.  They were counting on Captain Armor’s leadership and Twilight’s magic to carry the day, though a large helping of surprise sure wouldn’t hurt.

Fluttershy shook her head, still shell-shocked from the shouting and the fall.  Twilight could see her mouth the word “no”, but couldn’t hear anything over that distance.  Silently, she willed Fluttershy to say yes.  Once the ponies disguised as goats by Rarity’s magic were close enough, Dash and Gilda would grab the two hostages and make their escape covered by the sudden onslaught of the other soldiers.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Red Feather shouted.

From the incongruous reserve of strength that Fluttershy had shown time again when it truly mattered she gathered herself and regained her hooves.  “No,” she said again, still softly, but loud enough to just barely carry to her would-be rescuers.  “I won’t call my friends for you to eat.”

Red Feather was apoplectic at being denied.  He swung his wingblade up to her throat, the sharp edge just tickling the thin fur and skin.  Fluttershy gulped, eyes crossing to stare down at the sharp blade.  “Call them or you die here and now,” the griffon threatened.

Fluttershy stood firm.  “If I die then you have no way to catch my animal friends and they’ll all live.”

It’s not worth it, Twilight mentally shouted.  She’d never thought she’d wish that Fluttershy was less brave, but here they were.

“You said no pony would get hurt,” Pinkie screeched suddenly.  “You Pinkie promised!”

One of the griffons holding Pinkie replied, “I promised neither of you would get hurt if she cooperated.”  He waved a claw at Fluttershy.  “She’s not cooperating, now is she?  Fortunately, I have an idea.”  

Red Feather stalked over to one of the griffons armed with a heavy crossbow and held out his claw.

Immediately the griffon unslung the strap and handed the weapon over.

Red Feather checked that the weapon was armed and then jerked his head at the two griffons holding Pinkie in their talons.  They moved apart, holding her spread-eagle in the air by her forelegs.  Leveling the crossbow at the restrained pony he said, “thanks for volunteering.”  To Fluttershy he added, “you are quite right.  If I kill you, I get nothing.  So let’s try this again.  Call the goats over or I shoot your friend.”

Twilight sucked in a breath and tried desperately to think of something to do in case the griffon fired.  Thinking back to her lesson with Captain Armor she readied the shield spell.  Catching her preparation, Captain Armor spread the word to prepare for the charge.

“Don’t!” Fluttershy whimpered, “don’t shoot her.”

“It’s okay, Fluttershy,” Pinkie called.  “I deserve it after what I did.  Don’t worry about me.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Fluttershy insisted.  “We’ll get out of this, both of us, and then we can forget about it.”

Pinkie closed her eyes.  “I don’t think we’re getting out of this one.” 

“Right,” Red Feather growled.  “There’s only one way you both walk away from here and that’s by calling those blasted goats.”

“Once they kill me they won’t have any leverage on you,” Pinkie called, tears leaking from the eyes that couldn’t face Fluttershy.  “And I know Twilight and the others will save you as soon as they can.  Just hold on.”

“Pinkie Pie!” Fluttershy wept, adding her sorrowing counterpoint to Pinkie’s pleading that she just ignore everything.

The noises spiraled together, drilling into Red Feather whose face contorted in anger.  

“SHUT UP!” he roared and beat his wings with frustration.  “Stop your thrice-blasted screeching!”  Perhaps it was the beating of his wings or the tension in his claw, perhaps it was his shouting that did it.  But somehow, almost unconsciously, his claw clenched and the telltale twang of the crossbow rang out on that grey day among the desolate crystal rocks.

Three ponies reacted almost instantly.

Rainbow Dash, fastest of the fast, let that bolt be the starter’s gun and took off.  She raced toward Pinkie with all the speed she could muster, desperate to knock the other pony out of harm’s way.  She was, however, just a pegasus, and bound by the constraints of the world.  Even she could only move so fast.  It was physically impossible for Rainbow Dash to beat the crossbow bolt to its destination.

Twilight was the second pony to react.  She had had the shield spell ready and waiting in her mind, and the magic did not need to cross the intervening space between her and her threatened friend.  It moved at the speed of thought and Twilight thought very fast indeed.  Her shield snapped into place around Pinkie Pie almost instantly and, had she been the only pony to react, all would have ended well.

Fluttershy heard the twang of the crossbow and, impelled by an instinct of her quintessential kindness, dove into the path of the bolt. 

The crossbow bolt took her in the chest, just over her heart, and for a single frozen moment of time none could believe what had occurred.  Even the griffon commander looked surprised, as if his shot had perhaps been unintentional.  Into that stillness Fluttershy gave a soft “oh” of surprise and crumpled to the ground.

A high pitched grating scream rent the air.  Twilight saw Angel Bunny dashing across the ground to his fallen owner.  She hadn’t even known Fluttershy had brought her pet north with her.  They’d have to grab him quickly, Fluttershy would feel devastated if anything happened to him.

Fluttershy…

Fluttershy wouldn’t be feeling anything ever again.

The bit dropped for the gathered ponies.  With a cry of pain and rage Rainbow Dash resumed her furious charge, not to protect this time, but to attack.  Her hooves crackled as they gathered energy from the air and a peal of thunder echoed as she struck Red Feather dead on, sending his smoking form crashing back into his griffons.

The thunder reverberated on and on until Twilight realized it was the hootsteps of the ambushing ponies, led by Applejack, crashing down on the disoriented griffons.  Pebbles bobbled on the ground and new cracks formed for every stride the armored juggernaut took.  She didn’t even slow as she impacted the first of the griffons, trampling them underhoof. Behind her came the royal guard, pouring into the gap in the line that Applejack had smashed open, their blades and hooves cutting deep into the griffon’s numbers.  Rainbow came around for another pass and her explosive hooves blasted any griffon that dared try to reform their ranks and turn to fight.  

Unlike Applejack and Rainbow Dash, Twilight tended to keep her anger and her abilities separate, as a practical matter.  Rage can do strange things to magic and no pony wants to deal with the damage a vengeful and out-of-control Archmage could do.  Now though, the truth of Fluttershy’s state – no, face it head on – death and the battle that raged around her friends was eating into the pool of calm that usually surrounded her powers.  Red filled her vision and the normally magenta aura that surrounded her horn darkened to the color of a gentle friend’s spilled blood.  Combat magic might not have been an area with which Twilight had much expertise, but right now that didn’t matter.  

It’s not hard for a mage to kill.

Her eye settled on a group of airborne griffons about to attack the main pony contingent from above with blowguns and crossbows.  With a flick of magic, she bound their wings to their sides and watched in satisfaction as they plummeted squawking to their deaths on the hard ground below.

It wasn’t enough.  Another flicker of magic – and my wasn’t it easy to destroy at the moment – and the ground around her fractured.  Sharp shards of rock and crystal rose into the air.  She sent them rocketing down to the griffons, cutting holes through armor and flesh alike.  

And it still wasn’t enough.

Twilight’s teeth ground together as her lips curled up in a snarl.  It was too easy, taking potshots from on high, too unsatisfying.  Her magic seethed with her rage and she wanted to feel their warm blood splash and steam on the cold rocks, wanted to watch the light leave their eyes for what they’d done to Fluttershy.  

With a bloodcurdling war cry of her own, Twilight let her magic loose, trusting it to give form to her anger.  Her blood-red aura forged itself into a wicked blade as large as she was tall.  A mage’s blade, it had no hilt and no guard.  It could not be held except with a mage’s telekinesis.  Angry whips of pure energy lashed the air around the blade and Twilight could feel it’s thirst.  She’d grasped the blade in her magic and it howled with her as she teleported into battle.

The second she materialized she brought the blade down, cutting easily through the leather armor and flesh of the brown-feathered griffon in front of her.  A screech came from her left as another griffon’s talons scratched ineffectively against her armor.  She spun and cut deeply again, the blood she’d sought splashing her face.

It felt good.  Adrenaline pumped through her veins, mixing with the rage and violence in a heady concoction of bloodlust.  Twilight embraced the feeling, knowing somewhere in the back of her mind that the second it departed she’d have to face the terrible sorrow of reality.

Twilight teleported again, nearer the soldiers cutting their way through the griffon ranks in Applejacks wake.  Her blade grew and shrunk as needed and every swing effortlessly cut through everything in front of her, bringing down dozens of griffons.  

She flashed into the griffon forces just to the left of her troops, catching them in a pincer against her soldiers.  Between her frequent teleporting, her howling blade, and the shield spell she’d learned from Shining armor she was a one mare army.  

Still, there were so many griffons and she wasn’t quite as armored as Applejack.  She had a few cuts on her face and at the armor’s joints and exhaustion was looming, though not quite there yet, by the time her rage had diminished enough to join up with the main force of her soldiers without danger to them.

The soldiers recoiled from the manic rictus of her face, cast in a fey light by the crimson glow of her ethereal blade.  Twilight paid their fears no mind, already turning to face the griffons with which they were engaged.

“Archmage!  Archmage!” came a call from behind, but Twilight was uninterested in anything other than this newly discovered need to fight.  She flashed off a teleport and cried aloud as she ricocheted off a familiar pink shield that had sprung up around her.

Spinning around, she spat, “let me go, Captain.”

Sure enough, Captain Shining Armor, battle-scarred and weary but still standing tall, strode up to the shield.  He leaned in close and looked her in the eyes.  “We need to go, now, and to do that you need to get your friends under control.  They won’t listen to me or any of my men.  Rainbow Dash blasted her way out of the shield and Applejack just bucked her way right through it.”

Ha, that explained why he looked tired, the rebound from a shield like this breaking would hit hard.  Aloud she said, “we’re winning, Captain.  I don’t intend to stop until every griffon is dead.”

“Listen to me,” he hissed.  “When this started a few griffons made it past our line and raced right for their main camp.  I don’t know how long it will take them to return with reinforcements, but when they do return they’ll bring with them the entire griffon army. Unless we make it back to our own troops first we will all die.”

“I’m not afraid of a few more feathered targets,” Twilight snapped.  “I didn’t take you for a coward, captain.”

“Think,” he urged.  “I know you’re hurting, Archmage.  But we can’t win against all their forces.  He eyed her red-dyed armor and the circles of fallen bodies that marked the areas where she’d teleported behind griffon lines to slay every griffon within reach. “You and your friends may have turned the tide here, but sheer numbers will have their say in the end.  How many more friends do you want to watch die today?”

That struck home with all the force of a crossbow bolt.  It tore away the veneer of rage to which Twilight had clung to hold back her grief.  She scrabbled desperately to hold on to her anger, to keep using it to power her magic.  But it was gone, and in its absence came a tidal wave of loss that threatened to drag her under.

Slowly, within the shield, Twilight sank to her knees.  The blood-red mage’s blade faded away and Twilight felt nauseous as that bloodstained magic nestled back inside her, just waiting to be called forth to resume the slaughter.  With it gone, or at least turned quiescent, her aura lightened back to magenta and there was some small comfort in that.  Tears welled up in her one eye and she feared she would be lost to sorrow as she had been to rage.  

But no, she was Twilight Sparkle, Archmage, speaker for the princesses, wielder of the Element of Magic, and she did not make the same mistake twice.  She took the grief and used it to burn the image of that awful moment into her mind, swearing over and over that she would never allow it to happen again.  And to follow that new oath she needed her mind and all its faculties as sharp as they had ever been. 

It took her a few moments, eternity on the battle field, but she regained the control she so desperately needed.  Standing, she opened her eye and nodded firmly to Captain Armor.  “Release the shield.  You finish routing these griffons so they don’t harry us as we run and get your troops to disengage.  I’ll stop my friends.”

He held her gaze for a moment, assessing, then nodded back and dropped the shield.  “Hurry,” he said, before wheeling to his troops and shouting orders in a deep baritone that carried even over the clash of combat.

Twilight looked over the battlefield and found her friends.  Rainbow was still buzzing above it, moving so fast she was little more than a prismatic blur in Twilight’s one eye.  Applejack was easier to track, still marching at the forefront of the battlefield, disregarding every effort by the griffons to bring her down and every effort by the ponies to slow her so that the other troops could catch up.

Deciding that Applejack would be easier to reach and to convince, Twilight reached for her magic to teleport next to the armored pony.  Unfortunately, she’d burned a reckless amount of magic in the past few minutes and without quite as much adrenaline powering her it wasn’t so easy to throw out teleport after teleport like it was nothing.

Growling, she considered trying to force the spell, but long practice told her that she was teetering in a dangerous spot.  On the one hoof, forcing more magic immediately might very well push her right into unconsciousness; on the other hoof, a few minutes’ break could keep her functioning at a reasonable level for long enough to do what she had to.

Casting her eye back over the field she plotted out a route that would take her as close to Applejack as possible while staying behind pony lines.  Satisfied, she took a step and wobbled, nearly falling.  That was plain old tiredness and that, at least, she could simply push through.  Forcing herself to take another step, and another, she found momentum made each come easier than the last.  Muscles, trained through frantic running through the Crystal Empire with the griffons hot on her heels groaned under the strain, but they held.  Slowly she picked her way across the battlefield.

With her own fury tamped down, the battle was a very different place.  Wild yells and screams of effort and pain wound inextricably around one another to the beat of steel clashing with steel.  Too many steps came down on rough earth slicked with blood, and more than once she had to detour around a fallen body.

The smell was the oddest thing, she decided.  Though it felt like it had lasted forever, only a scant half hour had passed since the beginning of the battle.  There had not yet been time for the smell of death to sink into the landscape.  Each breath held equal chance of being the fresh cold air of the Crystal Empire, or the stink of blood and guts ubiquitous in any war.

A stray arrow pinged off the shoulder of her armor and quickly reminded Twilight why woolgathering was a bad idea in the current circumstances.  Still, the lapse of concentration had been exactly what her magic reserves needed.  She wouldn’t be setting any records, but she could probably handle a few spells without feeling like she’d fall over.

Reaching the edge of the line, she shouldered a solider aside and shouted, trying to get Applejack’s attention over the din. The other pony didn’t seem to hear, busy as she was with smashing a leg into and then through the armor of a nearby griffon.

Realizing the futility of shouting, Twilight’s eye fixed on the only unarmored part of her friend.  With a simple bit of telekinesis she grasped Applejack’s tail and tugged it.  Applejack whirled, readying herself from the attack she assumed was coming.  When she saw the magenta aura she stared at it stupidly for a moment and then raised her head to Twilight, who beckoned. 

Stomping her way to the other pony, Applejack loomed over Twilight.  “What?” she ground out.  

Twilight had never had it brought home to her just how large the other pony was.  True, she was no Big Mac, but with the begrimed armor and the helmet hiding her face she was the largest and most intimidating figure on the field.  The other soldiers scattered now that her attention was on them and even Twilight took a step back.

“We have to leave, Applejack,” Twilight managed.  “The rest of the griffon army is coming and that is a battle we won’t win.”

Applejack cocked her head in confusion, as if she didn’t understand the concept of retreat.

“We have to go,” Twilight repeated.  “Come on Applejack, you of all pones should know the truth when you hear it.”

The other pony shook her head, like a dog shaking off water, and tore off her helmet.  Underneath, her orange fun was matted with sweat and tears ran silently down her face.  “Twilight, what do we…” she trailed off, looking to Twilight for the answers the other pony had always managed to provide.

“I don’t – I don’t know, Applejack.  I don’t have some clever way out of this one.”  Twilight placed a hoof on the other ponies shoulder, feeling her trembling under the armor.  “But if we don’t leave right now, then it won’t have meant anything.”

“Ok.”  Applejack took a deep breath and nodded.  “Ok.  I understand.  You’re right.  But what about Dash?”

Dash was still fighting, descending unpredictably to leave smoking craters that sent the griffons flying then soaring up into the clouds to gather the energy and do it again.  She’d apparently tried to aim for the commanders, but after she’d taken out Red Feather no other griffon had stepped up.  She was up in the clouds at that moment as Twilight took stock of the battlefield and waited for her chance at Dash.

The griffons were fighting with surprising unity despite the lack of a commander, Twilight noticed.  Despite that, Shining Armor was hammering them hard to buy the rest of the troops room to retreat and it seemed to be working.  

A bolt of rainbow lightning crashed to earth and Twilight moved fast to catch the other pony.  She figured the tail trick had already worked once, and Rainbow was pretty used to it after all.  As Dash started to ascend once more, Twilight’s magic yanked on her tail.

Rainbow Dash whipped around and instinctively sent a bolt of lightning toward the source of the magic.  Twilight only barely managed to raise her shield in time and even that rocked against Dash’s shot.

Fortunately, Dash didn’t follow up on the blow.  She realized who it had been that grabbed her, and she swooped down to hover next to Twilight and Applejack.  “Don’t stop me,” she said without preamble.

“I won’t stop you from fighting them,” Twilight said carefully, “but now isn’t the time.  Scouts are going to bring the entire griffon army down on us.”

“Great!” she shouted.  “I’ll blow them out of the sky!  I’ll fight them all.  Alone if I have to!”

“Then you’ll die,” Twilight said simply.  “And we’ll have lost two friends today.”  Dash wilted at that but Twilight wasn’t done.  “I understand how you feel.  More than you can know.”  Deep inside Twilight the mage’s blade pulsed once, aching to come out and resume laying waste to the griffon forces, but she forced it back down.  “I’m not telling you to stop.  I’m telling you not to die with the job undone.  Fluttershy wouldn’t want – wouldn’t have wanted any of us to die here.  Pick your battles Dash.  For her.  Please?”

It was frightening to watch Dash take those words to heart.  The hotheaded pegasus visibly corralled her anger and grief, pushing them into a cold ember of pain that could keep her going.  Her normally expressive face went flat, losing even the sadness that had colored it moments earlier.

“Fine,” she said, her magenta eyes boring into Twilight’s own purple one.  “But you have to promise me we’ll avenge Fluttershy.”

Twilight never blinked.  “I promise.  Even if we have to topple the whole griffon empire, we’ll do it.”

Nodding Dash turned away.  Her voice lost a little of the steely will and a vulnerable note entered it.  “Come on, I’m not leaving her here.”

The line of battle had long since moved passed where Fluttershy lay and the three ponies were unopposed as they made their way over.  Gilda, who had been intended to rescue Pinkie in the original plan, had done her job and now stood guard over the pink pony.

For her part, Pinkie, mane still flat and dull, cradled Fluttershy’s body and wept over it.  No laughter came from her, not here, not now.  As they approached Twilight saw – and this was a complement of the larger sadness – the body of Angel, dead on the ground surrounded by three warrior griffons.  She couldn’t imagine how he might have managed it, but that bunny had always had a vicious protective streak.

Kneeling next to the sobbing pony, Twilight gently wrapped her hooves around Pinkie.  “We have to go now, Pinkie.”

Behind her she heard Rainbow approach Gilda.  “You got Pinkie, guarded her,” she said, her voice still flat.

“Just following the plan,” Gilda said, awkwardly ruffling her feathers.  “I didn’t have to actually do any fighting.”

“Still,” Rainbow said, after a moments pause, “thanks.”  Buried in that thanks was forgiveness, maybe, or trust.  An undoing of the sundering that had come when Gilda had been cruel to Pinkie and Fluttershy.

Gilda acknowledged it as such.  “I’m sorry about—“ Gilda gestured helplessly toward Fluttershy.

“Me too.”  Having said what she needed to say, Dash moved to where Twilight was still comforting Pinkie.  “I’ll carry her,” she said.

“We’re going to have to move fast, Dash,” Twilight objected.  “Applejack should carry her.”

“It’ll be fine,” Dash said, flying over Twilight and bending down to Fluttershy.  “Her body was always the smallest thing about her.”  Wrapping her two front hooves tenderly around the yellow body lying peacefully on the ground – she could have been sleeping were it not for the bolt in her breast – Dash lifted Fluttershy on her last flight.  As she ascended, back legs dangling and wings outstretched, the clouds broke for just a moment.  A sunbeam illuminated the golden body and the rainbow mane. Twilight swore she saw a pony shaped from golden motes rise toward the firmament, guided by a fierce prismatic Valkyrie and whispering “I’m sorry” as it went.

The moment passed.  The light faded and all that was left was one very sad pony, carrying a weight she never should have had to bear.  “Bring Angel,” Dash said.  “She’d want him with her.”

“Ah got him,” Applejack said, not unkindly.  She carefully lifted the tiny limp body and slotted it into a joint of her armor where it wouldn’t jostle or fall as she ran.

With the help of Rarity, who had sensibly hidden when battle had broken out and just now surfaced when she’d seen her friends gathering, Twilight had managed to get Pinkie to her hooves.  The other pony’s eyes were glassy and she moved gingerly, as if afraid of hurting herself or somepony else.  However, she would run when prodded and right now that was all they needed.

The troops had formed up behind them to prepare for the run back to base.  What griffons remained alive had taken to the air and the pony soldiers lacked enough pegasi to pursue them.  For their part, the griffons didn’t dare try and stop them for fear of what Twilight, Rainbow Dash, and a complement of pegasi might do to them.  Now it came down to simple speed.

Captain Armor rejoined Twilight and the others.  He took in everypony’s sorry state and looked like he wanted to say something encouraging.  His eyes fell on Dash hovering above everypony with Fluttershy in her hooves and he just sighed sadly.  “Ready?” he asked Twilight.  She nodded and in response he bellowed out to his troops, “forward march!  Double time!”

They began to canter, with the remains of the Mane six and Gilda at the head of the column.  It was a strange funeral procession, and each soldier’s eyes often returned to the figure flying before them.  Had she been in a more typical frame of mind, Twilight might have worried that the soldiers would resent having Fluttershy’s body brought home when they had had to leave no small number of their own comrades behind.  

But she would have been mistaken in that worry.  Fluttershy had not spent her time training like Applejack and Rainbow Dash, or administrating like Rarity and Twilight Sparkle, she had spent it taking care of the soldiers as best she could and they counted her as one of their own.  More than one soldier’s eyes drifted to her as they ran and more than one felt a tear trace its way down their face.

On and on they galloped, racing for home and safety.  It was a testament to Shining Armor’s training and command that they did not break ranks; that the retreat did not turn into an uncontrolled rout. The mood was so different than it had been on the way out.  Then their spirits had been buoyed by the chance to finally fight, to release the tension that had been building for months.  

Now that mood had soured.  The gritty reality of combat reared its ugly head in the empty spaces in the ranks, which gaped like the open wounds they’d received and dealt.  It came too, in the labored breathing of the wounded and the struggling grunts of those that aided them.  Still, they took twin comforts from the fact that they had left the field of battle victorious, and that at least no injured ponies had been left behind to die on that field.

Twilight, though, paid the soldiers running behind her little mind.  She trusted Captain Armor to see to his men.  No, she was busy calculating the air speed of the average griffon, estimating the how fast the main griffon force could assemble, and guessing at how long it would take for that army to make its way back to them.  

They had a chance, she thought.  The first griffons would have only left to fly back shortly before the ponies themselves had departed, and it would take no small period of time to gather enough griffons to be sure of victory.


***


They should have had a chance, she thought, as they broke free of the rocky outcroppings and entered the wide plain that surrounded the city.  Her estimates had suggested that the griffon army should have still been assembling.  The cold facts proved different.  Her heart sank as she saw the entire griffon army lift like a black cloud from behind the walls of the capital of the Crystal Empire.  Up they rose and their numbers blotted out the pale weak sun.

“Any ideas, Captain?” she asked of Shining Armor.

“How many can you teleport?” 

Twilights shook her head.  “Not enough to matter.”

“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to teleport to safety yourself?” he asked hopefully.  

“No,” she answered, voice firm.  “I brought these ponies out here.  I won’t just abandon them.”

Shining Armor shrugged.  “I figured as much.”  He raised his voice into a shout so all could hear.  “Stallions and mares, sell your lives dearly!  And whatever you do, keep running.  It’s the only chance any of us have.”

“So that’s it?  We run straight at them and hope they don’t pick too many of us off?” Twilight should have felt afraid or angry, but she just felt tired.  It was too much in too short a time.  Every idea that sprung to mind was crushed by the dark cloud of snapping beaks and flashing talons that even now soared toward them. 

“Well, there is one thing.  Remember the shield, Twilight?  I’m going to cast it over the army, angled in front so we can still run.”  He managed a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“There’s no way you have enough magic for that,” she protested.  “And when it gets broken the feedback from a spell that large could kill you.”

“That’s true,” he allowed.  “I still have to try though.  I was hoping that you could link with me to help hold it up.  Between us we might have enough juice left to get inside the walls.”

Twilight blinked.  “But we barely know each other.  I don’t think we’d be able to link at all, let alone while we’re running for our lives.”

“It’ll work,” Shining Armor said without a hint of doubt.  He cast a weather eye toward the approaching griffons.  “I’m starting the shield.  Give it a try.”

His horn began to glow magenta and his eyes took on the blank gaze of a unicorn preparing a complicated spell.  As she had done with Rarity, Twilight reached for her magic and brought it to the forefront of her mind.  She shaped it, molding the magic to what she knew of Shining Armor.  Slowly, delicately, she reached out a tendril of magic that just brushed against the captain’s aura.  She expected rejection, for her magic to be repelled like similar ends of a magnet and merely hoped that she’d gain enough insight into his magic for a quick second attempt to be successful.

Instead, the second their magic touched a fully-formed link sprang into being.  It was easy and almost without thinking Twilight sent her magic flowing down the link.

“That’s it, Twily, send whatever you can spare,” Shining mumbled distractedly.  Overhead a pink curtain had formed above the center of their army and was descending with a curved dome on three sides and a sharp forty-five-degree angle in the front.  As one, the griffons let out a screech of rage and spurred themselves to greater efforts, seeking to attack before the shield was complete.

Twilight was so startled at the ease of the link that she almost pulled back.  Linking with Rarity had required several tries to get right and even then it was like trying to pour a barrel of water through a funnel.  Two ponies who had had relatively few interactions should not have been able to link so easily.  It was almost as if their magic itself was similar in some way, though Twilight didn’t know how that could be.

“A little more,” Shining said, his teeth gritted in effort.  It dragged Twilight’s attention back to their plight and she sent another wave of magic over to him.  “Yes!” he crowed in triumph as the shield just reached the ground as the first griffons slammed into it and were carried by their momentum up along the slant and over the top.  The whole dome rang like a bell from the impact, but it held and the griffons wheeled off to make another pass.

Twice more the griffons made attack runs, dragging their sharp talons along the shield.  Each time Shining Armor, aided by Twilight’s rapidly depleting magic, managed to hold them at bay.  Again Twilight felt hope rise within her.  They were holding the griffons off and the city was closer than ever, surely they could make it.

That hope was swiftly dashed by a despairing moan from Shining Armor.  She followed his gaze and saw that the griffons, moving with unnatural speed and precision, had carved a trench in between the ponies and the gate.  It wasn’t terribly wide and for a moment Twilight wondered how it was meant to stop them.  Then she saw the griffons bracing themselves against its back and readying their claws and she understood.  Shining couldn’t add a bottom to the shield without preventing the army from running and without that shield the griffons could gut them from below.

Their only option was to avoid the trench.  Already Shining Armor was shouting commands to the troops, trying to get the army to turn in time.  Twilight wasn’t sure if they would make it.  They were 50 yards away and the troops were only starting to turn, then 20, then 10.  Holding her breath, Twilight tried to watch were she was going and keep an eye on the army at the same time.

Twilight didn’t actually see it, but the angry screeching of the griffons told her that the rightmost edge of the army had cleared the trench.  Peering back, she saw that the outermost troops were barely half a yard from the sloping entrance to the trench and the waiting griffons swiped their claws at the shield as they passed.

Hope began its now familiar roller coaster in her chest, rising only to fall as she realized that, while they had not fallen into the trench, they nevertheless had left themselves vulnerable.  By changing the angle at which they were running, without changing the direction of the shield there now was a small flat slice of magic facing directly forward.  Sensing weakness, the Griffons formed up once again and dove.  Driving with talon and beak toward that one flat spot.

They crashed brutally into the shield, setting it to ringing once again.  For a moment Twilight thought it might hold anyway.  But, without the angle to redirect the force, Shining Armor couldn’t hold back the sheer weight of the griffon flock.

Like glass, the shield shattered.  Pink motes and shards of magic rained on the heads of the troops and vanished back into nothing.  Shining Armor’s scream of agony as magical feedback ripped through his mind melded with the griffons’ screams of triumph and the ponies’ moans of despair.

As the griffon’s dive bombed the royal guard, the troops lost cohesion and momentum.  Too many soldiers stumbled over the bodies of their comrades or fell from the exhaustion of two long runs and a battle between.  Twilight sank to her knees next to Shining Armor’s unmoving form, out of tricks, out of magic, lacking the will to even take another pointless step.

Instinctively, the remaining elements and Gilda clustered around Twilight, looking to her for direction, a plan, something.  Twilight had nothing.  Too many shocks, too much effort in too short a time.  She was, after all, only mortal.

All around the troops drew closer, herding together to protect their fallen captain.  Beneath her knees Twilight felt the earth rumble as they stamped on the ground and swiped at the descending griffons.

Or no, wait.  The groaning of the earth was too loud to simply be the last brave stand of her troops.  The core element of Twilight’s being was, of course, curiosity, and now, stripped of everything else, curiosity was what found its way to the surface. Knowing that an answer would be pointless in the face of her impending death, Twilight nevertheless shut her eye and mustered up the energy to send a simple pulse of magic down into the earth, questing for noise’s source.

Even that faint sparkling of her horn encouraged her friends who, fortunately, knew nothing of her true state of mind.  Past experience had taught them that if Twilight was doing magic then she hadn’t given up, and neither should they.   

“Protect the Archmage!”  Applejack boomed across the plane.  She hunched over her friend, trusting to her armor and her body to keep her friend safe.  Griffons that dove against her scrapped ineffectively against her plate or met an upraised leg with a brutal crunch.

“The Archmage!” the troops thundered as one, redoubling their efforts.  The savagery of the griffons was met with the steely determination of cornered soldiers fighting with all they had.  For all that they had the upper hoof, the griffons fought wildly. The ponies took advantage of that opening, relying on their discipline and training with one another to double team the diving griffons and bring them down.

Dash, refusing to put Fluttershy’s body down, even for an instant, was relying on the ebonite gloves on her hind legs to fire bolt after bolt of lightning into the seething mass of griffons overhead.  Every strike sent smoking griffons spiraling to the hard earth below.  A myriad of moments of outstanding courage and sacrifice went unnoticed in that minute as the ponies struggled fate to buy the archamge what time they could.  

Their faith was rewarded.

Twilight’s eye snapped open and she leapt to her hooves.  She spoke to Applejack, passing along the orders everypony needed to be given.

Applejack braced herself, raised her head, and commanded in a voice that carried across the battlefield, “fall back!  Back across the trench.  Fall back!”

In a way, it was easier for the soldiers to obey now than it would have been earlier.  Exhaustion has leveled the differences between them and now they would obey without thinking or worrying about timing themselves to the others.  When in doubt or in despair, the old herd instincts came to fore and moving as one became the simplest thing in the world.  

Far harder, of course, was resisting the pressure of the griffons.  Without Rainbow Dash and Applejack, they wouldn’t have made it.  Dash was the last pegasus left slinging lightning into the griffon lines to create holes where the griffons fell.  Applejack hammered those holes into an opening like no pony else could have.  Despite their valiant efforts each step across ground which they had so recently traversed at a run was paid for in grudging blood.

At last, and with a triumphant cry, Applejack gained the trench.  Really it was no more than shallow rut in the earth, but it would have to do.  “Cross!” she ordered, waiting in place to hold that crossing.  It took another painful three minutes to get the ponies across.  Twice the griffons attacked the crossing and threatened to split the pony army in two.  Twice Rainbow Dash’s lightning and Applejack’s sheer strength pushed them back.

Twilight knelt on the other side, horn almost touching the ground, waiting for the right moment.  When Applejack, last of all the ponies, crossed, Twilight shut her eye and her horn flashed briefly.  Then she stood, wobbling from magic depletion.

“We hold here,” she tried to shout, though her voice wasn’t strong enough to cut through the din of battle.  Other ponies nearby picked it up and her message rippled through the army.

“We hold!” the troops called to one another.

They didn’t have to hold long.  The ground rumbled again, loud enough that everypony and every griffon could hear.  Beneath the soldiers’ hooves the ground began to quake.  The motion grew stronger, more violent, and the ponies were flung from their hooves.  Confused and afraid, the griffons began to flee back toward the city.

With a thunderous crash the trench yawned open.  A wave of hot sulfurous air blew out and an ominous red glow lit the bottom of the new chasm.  With a great whoosh, a ball of deep blue light shot upwards, glowing too brightly to make out any details.  Swiftly on its heels came a great upwelling wave of lava.  The troops cried out in fear and alarm as they scrambled back from the deadly heat. 

“Hold!” Twilight reminded them, standing unafraid scant yards from the lava.  Crawling along the edge of the lava closest to the ponies came a magic shield, the same color as the ball that had preceded the lava and even now hovered high above it.

One of the troops, a brown earth pony sharper than most, was the first to put the pieces together.  “The princess!” he cried.  “We’re saved!”

Far above, the light pulsed once in response and other soldiers took up the call.  

“Princess Luna.”

“She’s come for us.”

“Hail Princess of the night!”

Organically, a music welled up from the soldiers.  The Lunar Anthem rang across the plane as a triumphant expression of the trust the soldiers had for their princess.  Some even cried, believing for the first time since they had fought the griffons that they might survive.

Luna’s magic swelled with their song and she bent the wave of lava against the fleeing griffons.  It crested high above the plane, its top frothing with flame and liquefied rock.  Using her shields Luna contained it, kept it from crashing backwards on her ponies.  Though the griffons were too distant for the ponies to hear their screams above the roar of the lava itself and the singing of the soldiers, there nevertheless was no doubt about what was happening.  Luna was single hoofedly decimating the griffon forces.

Twilight could only watch, impressed despite herself.  She was an accomplished magic user and, with the right preparation and environment, she could challenge even an immortal like Luna.  But there was something to be said for the sheer raw power it took to move that much mass and heat.  She was so caught up in watching that she almost missed the three chunks of lava that did make it through the shield on the pony side.

Rarity, however, was paying more attention to her surroundings and she kept a close eye on the rapidly cooling and hardening lumps of molten rock.  She was the first to notice when a familiar spiky green and purple head shook off the rock like a dog shaking off water.

“Spike!” she screeched, drawing the attention of the others and dashing forward to through herself at him.

“Wait,” he said, and when a pout threatened to form he added quickly, “the rock’s still hot.  I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Rarity fidgeted, dancing from hoof to hoof as Twilight and the others caught up.  With a sharp crack, Spike yanked an arm free and began clearing the hardened lava away from the rest of his body. 

“I’m really glad to see you all,” he said as he worked.  “I felt something wrong through my connection to the Elements.  You know, the one I told Rarity and Twilight about before.  I guess I was just reacting to the threat or something like that.  I’m glad you’re all ok.”

“We’re not.”  

Spike’s head shot up at Rainbow’s flat declaration.  “But I thought…” he trailed off.  

Twilight realized he must have assumed that Rainbow was helping a tired Fluttershy along, as she had done plenty of other times.  Spike took in the limp body in Rainbow’s forelegs, seeing it properly for the first time.

“No,” he moaned.  His whole body sank to the ground, eyes closing.  “No, no, no, no, no!”  

Hesitantly, Rarity approached the grieving dragon.  She reached out a hoof, like a pony testing the temperature of an oven.  He proved cool enough that she could wrap him in a hug.

“Oh, Spike,” she murmured.  

“I should have been there.”

“Spike, we were all there.  There wasn’t anything to be done, darling,” she soothed.  In the meantime, and unnoticed by the ponies, Iolite and Sim had removed their own rocky covering and helped Thraxus out of his as well.

Twilight glanced over at the three dragons as they approached.  “Since you’re with Luna I assume you’re not here to fight.”

“Quite correct,” Sim said, spreading its arms and bowing ironically.  “Your princess has secured an alliance with all the dragons not under Sombra’s control.” 

Earlier, the implication that the majority of the dragons were under Sombra’s control would have been the worst news she’d heard in months.  Now, it was just one more weight for her shoulders.  To clarify she asked, “and you four are the only dragons not under his control, I presume?”

“Yes,” Sim confirmed.  “We must begin planning our next moves.”

Twilight held up a hoof.  “Not now.  None of us are in any shape to think things through, and I doubt you had an easy time of it either.” 

“But time is of the essence.”

“Later,” Twilight ground out.  She paused, then turned to Iolite.  “Thank you,” she said stiffly.  “If you’re here then it must be because of you that Spike wasn’t taken. So thanks.”

Iolite nodded back but was saved from having to respond by the return of Princess Luna.

Greeted by a great cheer Princess Luna slammed to the much abused ground hard enough to crack it further.  A very dazed and confused Sunlit Rooms had a death grip around Luna’s neck.  It took a few moments of coaxing before she could be persuaded to let go and stand on her own wobbling legs.

“Soldiers form ranks!” Luna shouted the second she was unencumbered.  As the soldiers arranged themselves she bent down to speak to Twilight.  “I know tragedy has struck, but there’s no time.  We must reach the walls before the griffons regroup or the dragons attack.”  

Twilight nodded, taking refugee from the situation in the demands of necessity.  “Right.  You make a bridge for us over the lava and I’ll make sure everypony keeps moving.”  Without waiting for a response she spun around.  “Applejack, with me.  I need your lungs.”

“Ya can count on me, Twilight,” she drawled, clanking as she fell into step beside the smaller pony.

Between the two of them a semblance of order emerged.  The least injured troops took the point and the rearguard while those still mobile helped the worst injured in the center of the formation.  Twilight took a moment to ensure that Shining Armor was among the wounded and that those carrying him knew to keep his head as still as possible.  She didn’t know whether he would ever wake up or what shape he would be in if he did, but Twilight hated the thought of inflicting a preventable injury on top of what he’d already suffered.

As the troops fell into place, Luna’s magic unrolled in front of them.  A navy blue carpet stretched across the lava’s hot dark expanse all the way to the city gates.  The army was battered and bruised and lacking so many of the friends they had set out with.  Nevertheless, they were alive and they trudged across their princess’ magic, heading towards home.
> Funeral Pyre
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It should be raining.

That is the tradition for pegasi funerals.  The sizzle of steam rising from the pyre represents the soul given back to the air.  But the air here is too cold and dry for any storm to be gathered.  In any case, as Rainbow reminds them, Fluttershy had been afraid of thunderstorms and loved the bright sunny days.

So they gather under the sun in the bright open square where Luna had so recently made music.

A podium is set up for those who will speak.  Twilight, whose magic has scarcely recovered, nevertheless enchants the stand so that all will be able to hear.

And it is all, save only for a skeleton screw standing watch at the camp’s borders.  There are too few bodies and too many dead to hold a funeral for each and every one.  But everypony has lost somepony and some release is needed.  Some way to mark the losses all have felt.

So Fluttershy must fulfill one last role as a symbol of the army’s loss.  She must stand in for those who died and allow those who mourn her to mourn their own loss as well.

Were she any pony else, this role would inspire resentment, anger that the friend of the princess and the archmage should have the privilege of remembrance when so many others do not.  But Fluttershy, dear kind Fluttershy, was so beloved by all that it feels appropriate.

They come bearing tears and arrange themselves in row upon row, encircling the podium and Fluttershy’s open coffin on the unlit pyre at the center.  The multihued multitude of ponies weave together, a living shroud wrapped around that small yellow body.

Pony funerals are simple.  Those who wish to speak do so.  The order in which they speak is the inverse of how well the speaker knew the deceased.

When the attendees are all settled the first speaker, a timid grey earth pony achingly Fluttershy-esque in how he flinches from the crowd’s eyes, rises from his seat and stubbornly makes his way to the podium.

His name is Steel Chaser, cadet, and this is what he says:

Hi everypony.  I’m not…not very good at this sort of thing.  But I felt like I had to say something.  I lied about my age.  Before, I mean, to get into the army.  It doesn’t matter now, I guess.  The Captain knows and one way or another we’re all veterans after these few months.

Anyway, I couldn’t keep up with the others.  Couldn’t complete the drills, or march in time, or win a single sparring match.  I’d be out there on the practice field for hours after the others finished up just trying to catch up.  That must have been how Fluttershy noticed me.  She brought me water.  She… heh… it took her three days of stopping by with water before she worked up the courage to tell me her name.  I never got the whole story out of her, who she was and what she was doing here.  I worked it out eventually, asking around, but at the time I didn’t know anything about her.  All I knew was that this pony, so shy that she couldn’t even share her name, was still brave enough to leave Equestria and come to the frozen north, and kind enough to spare time and water to one struggling soldier out of thousands.

When I struggled or ran out of stamina or fell, I saw her in my mind’s eye.  Trembling, without an ounce of courage showing.  But still there.  Day after day she was still there.  And if she could show up one more time then I could stand up one more time.  That got me through the training I needed, got me to the point that I could survive.

But I can’t help thinking that I wish she’d been a little less brave.

Steel Chaser ducks his head and returns to his seat without looking at anypony.  As he sits down one of his squad mates puts a hoof on his shoulder, just for a moment.  A moment more is allowed to pass, to let the last echoes of his words reverberate through the listeners.

Next, a white earth pony with a pink mane and a red cross cutie mark stands up and makes her way to the podium.  Nurse by name, doctor by trade, she’s a familiar figure to far too many ponies.  They greet her speech with the same dread that greets any medical professional’s clinical pronouncements.

Her name is Nurse Redheart, doctor, and this is what she says:

At the beginning I did not like Fluttershy.  I have seen too many ponies who think they can substitute some first aid class or veterinary training for a proper medical education.  When Fluttershy came to me offering to help, on that very basis I turned her down.

When she turned up the next day with the exact same offer I turned her down again.

This went on for a week.  On the seventh day there was a skirmish between our forces and the griffons.  ‘Minor’ I believe it was described, but that still meant a full emergency room and a triage situation.  When Fluttershy arrived that day I needed every able hoof, wing, or horn I could get.  She slipped on scrubs and set to work as if she’d expected this.

Only later did I realize that she had.  After the first day she knew I wouldn’t just let her help.  But she also knew that at some point there would be enough injuries at once that I couldn’t turn any volunteer away, and she believed that I would see her worth once she started helping.

Well, I did.  A lot of ponies will talk about her kindness today, but her memory was what impressed me.  She knew every patient by name after the first day.  After the second day she knew the names of their families and hobbies.  Every day during downtime she’d offer updates on the soldiers that had already been discharged.  That dedication, that was what I respected about her.  Without her… I’m sorry soldiers, but your care simply won’t be as good.

Nurse Redheart keeps her back ramrod straight and meets the watching eyes as she steps down from the podium, as if daring anypony to comment.  No pony does, of course, but no pony offers a hoof to her the way they did for Steel Chaser either.

Other ponies follow, telling stories, reciting memories.  Some are funny.  Barrel the quartermaster tells of the time Fluttershy took him to task for not stocking bunny food.

Far more of the stories are sad.  And if some of those stories feature other ponies more prominently, ponies that, if they were to attend the funeral would be in Fluttershy’s place, well, everypony understands that it is appropriate.

Last of the ponies that knew Fluttershy only in passing is Princess Luna.  She concludes her story of learning from Fluttershy how to speak in the modern vernacular.  As she steps down from the podium the focus of the mourners, which has drifted over time to more personal losses, sharpens again.  A sense of expectation gathers as Luna takes her seat again.

Now those that speak will be the ponies truly important to the deceased.  The kind words of acquaintances have led up to this, softened the blow.  This is a time for truth, however painful, so there are no illusions left as a pony departs the mortal plane.  Truth both of the deceased and of those who speak of her.  The first speaker rises and with the indrawn breath of the crowd takes her place at the podium.

Her name is Gilda, former Pinion of the Griffon Empire, and this is what she says:

I doubt a griffon is a welcome sight just now, but it wouldn’t have been right to let that keep me from speaking.  Many have wondered why I am here with you ponies when an army of griffons opposes you.  Fluttershy is the reason for that.

I knew Fluttershy for years, longer than any pony else here except Rainbow Dash.  The three of us learned to fly together.  Or, more accurately, the both of us were separately friends with Rainbow.  I never understood what Dash saw in her.  When we met again, years later, she seemed the same frightened creature she had been as a filly. My temper boiled over at her weakness and I treated her more cruelly than she deserved. 

I lost a friend because of it.

By the time we met again in Canterlot I was conflicted.  I had overreacted in my treatment of her, that much I knew, but I still held to my belief that she was a fundamentally weak pony.  I asked forgiveness for my temper and she, despite having no reason to do so, granted it.  Because of that, I was with the Elements of Harmony when the griffons abandoned their embassy and travelled north.  I was with the pony army when Sombra enslaved the minds of the other griffons. 

Fluttershy, with her kindness, preserved my life and the freedom of my mind.  A feat beyond the strength of the entire griffon army.  I bow to that strength and mourn its loss.

As the griffon speaks the hard glares grow softer.  Ponies understand and respect the strength it took Gilda to break from her version of a herd.  More, Gilda’s sincere words revealed that she has moved beyond the traditional griffon correlation of strength and worth, and the ponies respect that change.  As the griffon returns to her seat there were nods from the 
gathered ponies as they found her offering acceptable.

It is, apparently, the turn of all the ponies’ enemies to speak, for the next to take the podium is a dragon.  Not a dragon familiar to the army, that one will speak later still.  This dragon is small, barely chest high on a full grown stallion.  His scales are a brilliant red that flash in the sun just like a ruby, and nothing at all like a pool of blood.  He stands at the podium and takes his time surveying the gathered ponies.  The weight in his gaze belies his apparent youth and offers a stark reminder that the creature at the podium is older than all of them put together, save for the princess of course.

His name is Thraxus, fallen dragon, and this is what he says:

I met Fluttershy once.

If I understand your funeral customs correctly, I would normally have spoken much earlier than this.  However, I insisted that I be permitted to speak near the end because I knew Fluttershy in a way no other here can claim.

Fluttershy was my enemy.

She took from me my hoard, my honor, and my very strength.  Everything that a dragon prizes she stripped away in a single instant.  And worse, she had no idea what she’d done to me.  Just as the ancient red dragon I once was might have disregarded the suffering of a pony crushed carelessly underfoot, she destroyed me and forgot me.

 How marvelous!

I was near ready to settle down to an eternal sleep, convinced that nothing of worth remained to gather in this world.  In her cruelty she offered me a mystery worth pursuing: the true nature of a pony capable and desirous of breaking an ancient red dragon.  I needed to understand her as desperately as I needed any of the gems that once graced my hoard.  And yet, now that I find myself full of youthful vigor, the source of my mystery has gone forever beyond my grasp.

One last careless cruelty from her, to pass before I could take from her the answers I sought. 

The dragon steps down from the podium, heedless of the confused whispers that greet the end of his speech.  Heedless, too, of the considering gaze leveled at him by a rainbow-maned Pegasus.  What will be, will be.  He has said his piece and he is content with that.

Next to rise is a familiar stolid earth pony.  Her orange coat is mottled with bruises from blows blocked by armor.  Streaks of dark red show where armor was insufficient and one eye is puffed shut.  Nonetheless, her hooves are steady as she makes her way up to the podium.  Before speaking, she brings forth the body of Angel, Fluttershy’s beloved pet, and nestles him in the crook of one yellow wing.  Her voice, loud and confident in its southern twang rings out across the gathered ponies.

Her name is Applejack, farmer, and this is what she says:

I won’t speak about Fluttershy today.  Not because I didn’t love her.  I did. But because somepony needs to speak for the other fallen and it just wouldn’t be right if it weren’t me.

My parents, Luna keep their souls, were soldiers on the first Zebrican envoy.  I can see from your winces that most of you know the story.  Suffice it to say, in doin’ their jobs they found themselves more over their heads than, well, than a new orphan come harvest season.

Ever since this began I’ve been wondering if we’d find ourselves up the same creek without a paddle in sight.  Even after the battle I can’t say for sure.  We’ve all been in sticky spots before and come through okay.  But even if everypony gathered here does make it home, there’s still too many ponies we’re leaving beyond. My friends and yours who ain’t gonna come home.  So here’s to them, a cheer for those brave souls who fought and died to give us one more day.

For the fallen!

‘FOR THE FALLEN’comes the unhesitating reply, thundering forth with the weight of an army’s grief.  There is gratitude in the air as the orange pony sits down.  None of the soldiers, knowing that the chance of death is what they signed up for, would have dared speak so plainly, for fear of equating the loss of soldiers with the loss of an innocent like Fluttershy.  Stories that touched on their deceased friends perhaps more closely than on Fluttershy was the closest any of them had dared.  Still, all were grateful that it had been said, and by the daughter of lost comrades no less.

Mascara and tears flow freely on the face of the next pony to rise, though she was one of those rare ponies that could cry prettily.  Once the soldiers’ eyes would have held only desire as they looked at her, for she is very beautiful, but they now are tempered by respect.  She fulfilled her role in that mission and she made it home where her friend did not.  They all understand that and they honor her for it.

Her name is Rarity, fashionista, and this is what she says:

I believed in what we are doing here, that it was necessary to save Equestria.  Even as the weeks dragged on and we spent far longer in this horrid cold place than we had on any other adventure, I still thought it was the same in kind.  And, true to kind, that at the close of it we would all travel home and resume our normal lives.

That faith is shattered.  No matter how this resolves, when we go home there will forever be an empty place.  No quiet voice speaking words of kindness.  No cheery lilt to gossip with at the spa.  No sudden incongruous shout to chase away the dragons in our lives.  Fluttershy and all the little pieces that make her up is gone.

My usual choice for dealing with trouble is to collapse on a couch and drown my sorrows in pints of rocky road.  But that seems insufficient, somehow, to mourn the memory of my dear friend.  I want to do more to remember her.  I want to bring some small piece of her back.

So instead of eating away my sadness I’ll try and practice the kindness that so defined her life.  Every evening at the mess tent I will have a table set out for dinner.  Anyone who wants to talk, about lost friends, doubts, love troubles, anything, can come have a seat.  I’m no trained therapist and I can’t promise a solution, but I can promise a friendly listening ear.  And if any of you are willing to lend an ear to somepony else, you too are welcome at my table.  Maybe together we can make up for some of the kindness the world just lost.

Knowing nods greet Rarity’s declaration.  It is plain to see that many ponies already expect to avail themselves of her generosity.  Other have smiles, tremulous ones, on their faces for the first time in days at the thought of a chance to confide in somepony else.  Rarity answers those smiles with a small one of her own, an acknowledgement that others appreciate the idea of a space to share their wounds. Though she doesn’t appear it, Rarity is strong, strong enough to lend that strength to others when the need arises.

Moving awkwardly, as though he has not yet grown used to his diminished stature, the next speaker moves to take his place.  As always, his eyes stray to Rarity, seeking to draw strength from his feelings for her.  Unlike in the past, Rarity rewards him with a nod of acknowledgement.  It isn’t much, just a brief lingering of a gaze, but it’s more than he’s had before and he takes heart from that.

His name is Spike, number one assistant, and this is what he says:

When Twilight and I first arrived in Ponyville, everypony except Fluttershy saw me as just Twilight’s assistant.  She was the only pony that actually talked to me.  Of course, that was partially because she was too shy to speak to a strange pony, but, as a baby dragon, I reminded her of her animals.  If she had been somepony else maybe she would have stopped talking to me when she learned the things she wanted to know, but she was far too kind for that.

I remember the first time she came to visit me at the library.  I was so used to ponies dropping by for Twilight that I had already put the tea on and gone to call her before Fluttershy could get out that she was there to visit with me.  She was a friend.  One of the first to be friends directly with me and not just through Twilight.  I’ll always be grateful to her for that.

For a moment Spike pauses, his mouth moving as he looks for more words to say.  In the end there’s nothing more he can find, and anyway he knows that Fluttershy knew how much she meant to him.  He hangs his head, his large body looking smaller even than a pony as he trudges back to his seat.  Rarity places a supporting hoof against him and he takes what comfort he can from that.

Hisses of indrawn breath show the shock of the gathered as they behold the next pony to speak.  Her mane hangs straight and dark and limp.  Every movement of her body seems a vast effort and she cannot even raise her head as she walks.  It is the contrast that truly terrifies.  So essential is movement to her nature that to see her so painstakingly quiescent feels obscene.  Like peeling back her skin to regard her naked muscle, it is both a violation of her being and an act of violence on the part of the viewers.

Her name is Pinkamena Diane Pie, former Element of Laughter, and this is what she says:

…
…
…

Nothing.  She says nothing.  She stands at the podium for a long time, longer than many of the speakers, but her gaze, riddled with loss and a hint of madness, transfixes everypony.  It is as if the legendary Stare of the deceased, flavored by death itself, now emanates from those piercing blue eyes.  Time seems to stand still.  She offers a silent plea, one that all can hear, but none fully understand or dare to answer. Until, at last, she lowers her head and scuffs her way back to her seat.  As one, the crowd releases a breath none had realized they were holding.  They shake off the spell of those moments.

They are there to mourn, yes, not to be pulled spiraling down into a fathomless abyss of grief and loss.

The next pony and the penultimate speaker rises.  She too had been caught by the spell woven by those eyes, but she is made of sterner stuff than most.  Or perhaps it’s that she only has one eye to be transfixed.  Her stride is firm as she takes her place and her face holds determination interwoven with sorrow.  She knows that what she has to say will not be pleasant, nor will it be well received, but it must be said nonetheless.

Her name is Twilight Sparkle, archmage, and this is what she says:

This, all of this, is my fault.  I sent my friends into danger.  When that danger materialized I led an army into an untenable position in an attempted rescue.  When that rescue failed I took to the front lines myself to fight.  Fighting on the front lines is a viable stratagem as an archmage, but in this case it was simply the product of uncontrolled anger and, as such, was an unforgivable mistake in a commander.  Were it not for the heroism of Captain Armor and Princess Luna’s timely intervention, my course of action would have resulted in all of our deaths and quite possibly the enslavement of Equestria.

As it is, my leadership led to the death of one of my dearest friends. 

I have never lost anypony before, let alone caused somepony I cared about to die from my actions.  I don’t know how to handle it.  Truth be told, there is a part of me that wants to curl up in a dark corner somewhere and scream until it all fades away.  But I can’t.  I don’t deserve to.  Not when it’s all my fault.

So instead, I simply swear this: I will win.  We will win this.  We will end the threat posed by our enemies here and now and prevent them from threatening any of our loved ones back home.  Only when Equestria is secure and whatever remains of this army is home safe will I find some way to let myself grieve as Fluttershy deserves.

Though Twilight swears to grieve only when the war is won, it seems her right eye is unbound by that oath.  From the eyepatch covering her missing eye come tears of blood, rolling in streaks down her purple face.  It is a jarring sight and the raw painful truth of her words lands like a blow among the soldiers.  Tradition though it is to speak true, few among them have heard a commander take responsibility for their fallen so bluntly.  There is a reassurance in it; a knowledge that she will neither throw away their lives, nor take lightly the mission on which they find themselves.

The last speaker shoulders her way past Twilight, not even giving her time to reseat herself.  Impatience ever was her watchword, but the cheer that once tempered it has been forged into grim purpose.  She still wears the bloodstained Ebonite gloves and her whole body crackles with energy, only some of it electric, as she flies to the podium.  Even as she speaks she is unable to remain still, gesturing with her wings and the hoof that carries a torch.

Her name is Rainbow Dash, warrior, and this is what she says:

They killed my sister.

I don’t know who they are.  I’m not a smart pony so I can’t figure out exactly who should bear the blame.  Twilight says it’s her fault and she’s a smart pony so maybe she’s right.  But I need her for now so I’ll settle with her once this is over.  I figure I’ll start with the griffons, the dragons, and Blueblood’s rebellious nobles and when they’re all dead I’ll see how I feel. 

I don’t think it will be enough.  I think I could split the world with a lightning bolt and it wouldn’t be enough.  I’m tempted to try anyway.  These gloves get stronger the faster I go and with a rainboom I bet I could start wiping cities off the map. 

She wouldn’t ever forgive me if I did that though.  She won’t forgive me for what I’m going to do to the ones that killed her either.  But she’s the only one I’d stop for and if she was here to stop me then she wouldn’t need to.

If I were stronger I’d do something like Rarity, try and spread that kindness she so loved.

But I’m not.

I’m sorry Fluttershy.  Your pyre is the spark that lights the world aflame.

Rainbow Dash lowers the torch.  The army watches in silence as the flames rise and the wind scatters the ashes of kindness.
> Arc 3 Chapter 1: Injury and Memory
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fluttershy’s funeral had been harder, of course, but visiting the hospital held a horror all its own.  If Luna had not insisted there was no way Twilight would have gone.  She had always been an isolationist; somepony who had trouble simply relating to others at the best of times.  These were not the best of times.  Emotional support was simply beyond her capacity at the moment.

Not that emotional support was the point of their visit, precisely.  Rather, as rulers have done since time immemorial, they were visiting the wounded and reassuring them that their sacrifice had not been in vain.

Twilight found that difficult.  She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the sacrifices made on her orders had been for nothing.  Twilight would have taken it all back in a heartbeat, if she could.

Of course, she couldn’t take it back.  She couldn’t take anything back.  Walking among the wounded she was wounded in turn.  she felt the knife in her aching heart cut a little deeper with every meaningless platitude she mouthed and every soldier she left just as hurt as she found them.

But Luna had insisted.  No, that wasn’t right.  Luna had ordered and Twilight had gone along without a second thought.  She had forgotten just how compelling a princess not wracked by doubt or self-recrimination could be.  Even now, Luna strode the antiseptic anodyne halls like the first breath of free air of in a pony’s lungs after they were discharged.

Twilight stood at the edge of a crowded hospital room, studying the inhabitants.  They had attempted to cluster around the princess, only to be ordered back to their beds by the orderlies.  As a compromise, Luna had summoned the beds to her with a quick spell and now sat, uncaring of dignity or comfort, on the hard linoleum floor among the beds.  Her greater height put her at eye level with the injured soldiers.  She was telling a story about a fight she’d had with a creature called the Smooze.

“And so then I ducked under his reaching arm.  Or leg.  It was kind of hard to tell under all the muck.  Anyway I bucked him right in the side and both my legs got stuck.  This awful purple ooze started seep into my coat and up my legs.  I was just about to blast my way free when the overgrown puddle rolled over and sat on me.  All I could think about was how embarrassing it was to be losing a fight to a pile of jello with delusions of grandeur!”

The soldiers laughed and Luna laughed along with them.  Twilight couldn’t help but think of how another princess would have acted in Luna’s place.  She would have been more reserved, of course, wouldn’t have sat on the floor or gathered all the soldiers together.  And yet, she too would have managed to leave the soldiers feeling a bit better about what they faced.  Somehow the princesses could empathize with the injured better than she could. This despite the fact that they had never and could never suffer a permanent injury.

Until now anyway, Twilight realized with a chill.  Perhaps Luna was drawing on the loss of Celestia to connect with the soldiers, or perhaps this compassion and easy comradery was a part of her true nature when she wasn’t distracted by other concerns.

It doesn’t matter, she thought, shaking off her musings like a dog shaking off water.  She also had to force her hoof down from where it had drifted to her missing eye.  They had come to reassure the soldiers and they were reassured, check that item off the list.

“Excuse me, Archmage Sparkle?”

Turning, Twilight saw that Nurse Redheart, one of the speakers from the funeral, had entered the room and approached her.  The nurse looked tired, unsurprisingly, but professional and competent with her light blue scrubs and clipboard.

Seeing she had Twilight’s attention the nurse glanced down at her clipboard to remind herself of the message.  “You asked to be notified of Captain Armor’s status, correct?”

Ah yes, another injury to lay at her hooves and brick of guilt to lay on her back.  “Yes,” she said aloud, “is there any news?”

“Good news, in fact.  He’s regained consciousness yesterday and appears to be in possession of all his faculties.  We’re not yet confident there won’t be repercussions from the magical backlash, but the worst has been avoided.”  Redheart managed a small smile.  “He’s attempted to return to his duties and asked to speak with you at the earliest opportunity.  We won’t permit the former just yet, but since you’re here anyway I thought you might help with the latter.”

Once Twilight would have laughed with joy at the news, but from the great distance that seemed to separate her from everypony else it was a barely perceptible lightening of the load.  Still, it was something.

“I’m pleased he’s awake.  Let me just notify the princess and then we can go.”

“There is no need Twilight.”  While they were speaking, Luna had extricated herself from the knot of soldiers and made her way over in time to catch the gist of the conversation.  “I would like to accompany you to meet the valiant Captain.”

The nurse nodded.  “I am sure he will be pleased with your visit.  Please try to keep from agitating him.  While I’m sure he won’t admit it, his mind is still fragile.”

“We’ll do our best,” Twilight said.

As they departed the soldiers called goodbyes after Luna.

“Goodbye Princess!”

“Thanks for visiting!”

“We love you!”

“And I love you, my little ponies,” the princess called back to cheers from the room.  She was still smiling when she fell into step next to Twilight.

“That means a lot to you, doesn’t it?” Twilight commented idly.

Luna glanced over, assessing if an insult had been meant.  “I am pleased to be appreciated by my subjects,” she said stiffly.

“Celestia couldn’t have done that,” Twilight said, apparently apropos of nothing.

Now certain she was being mocked, Luna’s reply was sharp and tinged with bitterness.  “As if my saintly sister would be incapable of anything.”

“No really,” Twilight protested.  “I was thinking about this in there.  Celestia would have visited, to be sure.  She would have spent time at each of their bedsides, carefully listened to each of their concerns, and reassured them of their place in the grand scheme of things.  An offer of comfort through predictability, as it were.  You though, you dragged them all together, plopped down on the floor next to them, and traded war stories and jokes for the better part of three hours.  It’s a different experience entirely.”

“Perhaps, but I fail to see the import of that distinction,” Luna said, still frowning.

“You thrived on their attention.  They could give you something and have you value it while they received something from you in exchange.  I bet they’ll be telling their grandfoals about the time they got to shoot the shit with the princess.”  Twilight shook her head.  “Celestia did that with specific ponies.  Me, I’d like to think.  But if I had to guess she took her strength from the functioning of the system, rather than from the joy of the individual ponies.”

“What exactly are you saying, Twilight?” Luna asked, still somewhat perplexed.

Twilight shrugged.  “I’m not sure exactly.  But I’m glad you’re here Luna.  Truly, I am.  I think what you have to offer might be exactly what they need, rather than what they can be made to accept.”

“Thank you, I think.”  Luna peered closely at the smaller pony beside her.  “Twilight are you ok?”

“No,” Twilight said simply.

“What–“

“We’re here,” Redheart interrupted, gesturing at a wooden doorway.  As a military nurse she had long since mastered the crucial art of escorting ponies without overhearing anything she shouldn’t and, as such, she had no idea what she’d interrupted.

“This conversation is not over, Twilight Sparkle.  The army still needs you,” Luna warned.

“And I’ll play my part.  The army can’t ask more than that, and I don’t think I have more than that to give anyway.  Right now let’s just go see how the Captain is doing,” Twilight said.  Without waiting for an answer she walked ahead of Luna into the room Redheart had indicated, not so secretly relieved to escape the conversation she had initiated.  Luna followed without complaint, though Twilight could feel the weight of her assessing gaze.

For a hospital, the room they entered was nice.  Two broad windows let sunbeams brighten pastel flooring and light blue blankets.  A lone bed occupied one wall and next to it stood a small nightstand with a vase of blue and yellow forget-me-nots that some enterprising pony had managed to rustle up.  Shining Armor was resting in bed, looking weary, but surprisingly well put together for somepony who had recently done his level best to fry his brain.  Sure, the top of his head and his horn were wrapped in enough bandages to make a mummy, but his eyes were alert and had tracked over to the door when he heard it creak open.

“Twi– Archmage, Princess, to see both of you is more of an honor than I expected.  Are you here to save me from the cruel attentions of that dastardly creature behind you?” he asked cheerfully.

“You are a patient in a hospital.  As far as you are concerned even Princess Luna has to listen to me,” Redheart said severely, though there was a glint of humor in her face.

Shining pressed a hoof to his forehead, wincing as he moved a bit too fast.  “Alas, then I must make do with the pleasure of your company.”

Blinking at the exchange, Twilight said in an undertone to Luna, “I don’t remember him being quite so playful before.”

“He’s still on painkillers,” Redheart put in.  “He’s cognizant of what’s going on, but he’s likely lightheaded and somewhat dizzy.”

“It does feel that way,” Shining said.  “I’ll probably be a little out of it, so please don’t hold my informality against me.”

“Of course not,” Luna said warmly as they took seats at his bedside.  “We have heard tell of your valor in in bringing home the army and protecting it long enough for the Archmage to find me.”

He shrugged.  “As far as I was concerned it was a last stand.  We were lucky that you turned out to be nearby.  Besides which, the Archmage was essential in providing me with the strength to make a shield that large.  Without her – without you, Archmage, we would not have made it.”

“Without me, we wouldn’t have been out there in the first place,” Twilight corrected, meeting his eyes for the first time.  He made to protest but she cut him off.  “No.  I know, you’ll say that mistakes are a natural consequence of being in charge.  Hay, viewed from outside this didn’t even end up going that badly, their forces suffered far more severe losses than we did.  I understand that intellectually, but it provides little comfort.”

Shining Armor blinked at the rush of words, delivered in a monotone.  “I was going to say,” he corrected gently, “that I’ve also lost friends because of orders I’ve given that turned out to be mistakes, and that I’m sorry I wasn’t there at the funeral.  It takes time, Twi – Archmage.  If you need to talk about it I’m here for you.  I suspect,” he added, turning to Luna, “that the Princess would also be willing to help.”

“Yes,” Luna said simply.  “I too understand what it feels like to have orders you’d give anything to take back.  As you know better than anypony else, Twilight.”

“I don’t–” Twilight hesitated and then sighed deeply.  “Thank you, both of you.  But I can’t– I don’t have the luxury to deal with this now.  I can’t afford the time it would take to fall to pieces and pick them back up.  I just can’t.  If we all survive the next few weeks, I may take you up on that offer.”

Shining Armor and the Princess exchanged a look.  “Alright, Archmage,” Shining Armor said.  “Remember, you may need to keep up a strong face among your subordinates, but as your peers we are here to support you just as we trust you to support us when necessary.”

Twilight nodded.  “Well, if you’ll permit me to distract myself by indulging in my curiosity, I did have a question for you.”

“I suppose that’s a healthier way of repressing things than going out and drinking too much cider.”  Shining spread his hooves wide.  “Ask away.”

“Back when we reached the plane with the army and you started building the shield spell, you asked me to link with you to provide the energy.”  Twilight said, her voice losing the waver and growing more precise.  “How did you know we would be able to link?  And why was it so easy?  We’ve never linked before, and there was no reason to think it would be as easy as it was.”

“Ah that, right, well.  That was actually why I wanted to speak with you as soon as possible.”  Shining Armor’s eyes glanced sideways, then darted to the princess and away.  “Though I’m not sure now is the best time. Would you be willing to take a raincheck on that?”

Twilight blinked.  “I didn’t think that would be a hard question to answer,” she said.

“I can give you two some privacy, if that’s what this is about,” Luna said, who had caught Shining Armor’s glance.  She grinned mischievously.  “For instance, if the good captain is secretly in love with you and that’s why the link was so easy I can understand that he might wish to confess his love without an audience.”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Shining Armor said hastily.  “I have a wife back in Canterlot whom I love very much.  But I do think a bit of privacy wouldn’t go amiss,” he added.

“Very well.” Luna said, rising from her seat.  “Twilight, I will see you at the meeting this afternoon.  Actually, now that you’re awake you should attend as well, Captain Armor.”

“And what is this meeting going to be about,” he asked with some trepidation.

“Our general strategy,” Luna answered.  “After six months of stasis events are moving again.  We must reconsider our plans, especially in light of what we now know about Sombra.”

“Then I will certainly attend.  Hopefully the painkillers will be out of my system by then and I can give you my best effort.”

“I wish you a speedy recovery, Captain.  Twilight…” Luna trailed off unable to find the words.  Finally, she simply said, “I’ll see you later.”  She turned and made her way to the door.

Twilight watched the princess leave.  Then she turned back to Shining Armor.  “So, now that she’s gone, why was the link so easy?  And why didn’t you want Luna here for this?”

“It’s complicated and I, uh, I’m not exactly sure where to start.”  He tapped his chin in thought.  “I can’t believe I’m even telling you this. I half believe the drugs are responsible for loosening my tongue.”

“You know, if this is some deep secret you don’t have to tell me,” Twilight said.  “I’d hate to think you’re only talking now because you’re on painkillers.”

Shining Armor shook his head.  “No, I want to tell you.  After almost dying or burning out my mind I think it’s important that I try this one more time.”  He took in a deep breath and let it out.  “Here goes.  Twilight what is your family like?”

Twilight felt a chill.  “I don’t know.”

That evidently not been the response Shining Armor expected.  “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

She shook her head.  “I don’t know.  I had always thought that I had perfectly normal parents who I left behind to become a student of the princess.  But back before we left I was talking with Iolite, the dragoness that laid Spike’s egg, and I realized that I don’t remember them.  Not what they did, what they looked like, if I had any siblings, nothing.  There were no visits after becoming the princess’s student and somehow I barely thought about them for fifteen years.  It was on my list of things to investigate, but the rebellion happened later that day and it fell by the wayside.”

Something very like desperate hope came into Shining Armor’s eyes.  “Well,” he said thickly, “I can help you with that.  Your mother’s name is Twilight Velvet.  She’s a writer.  Foal’s stories mostly, but she branches out into romance novels on occasion.  Your father’s name is Nightlight and he’s an astronomer at Canterlot University.”

“How could you possibly know that?  Why would you even know that?” Twilight asked hesitantly, but Shining Armor continued speaking as if he hadn’t heard.

“You have one older brother who joined the Royal Guard in the hopes of getting to see you again.  It turned out he had a knack for it and rose quickly through the ranks until he achieved the coveted title, ‘Captain of the Royal Guard.’”  Shining stared at her with an unnerving intensity.  “It’s me, Twilight.  I’m your older brother.”

Questions whirred through her head.  “That’s not possible,” she blurted out.

“What isn’t?” he prompted.  “What did I just tell you?  Repeat it, please!”

“You told me that you’re my big brother, but–“ Twilight cut off as Shining Armor began laughing.

“Yes!” he cheered.  “Yes, yes, yes, finally!”  He threw back his head and to her shock Twilight thought she saw tears in his eyes.  “I don’t know how or why but you finally heard me”

“I don’t– what?  What are you talking about?” Twilight sputtered.  “I want answers, now!”

With a supreme effort of will Shining brought his head back down and tried to stem the flow of tears.  “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.  This must be very confusing for you.  I’ll try and explain.  As much as I can anyway, since I don’t understand very much.”

“I think you’d better do that,” Twilight said cautiously.

“Right, right.”  Shining Armor wiped his eyes again and took a breath.  “Ok.  So like I said, you were accepted as the princess’s student and at first we were all thrilled.  I’ve never seen mom and dad as happy as when they got that letter.  It didn’t hurt that it came with a hefty scholarship bonus, and that mom’s novels weren’t selling well at that time.”

He drifted off in reminiscences for a moment only to be brought back to the present as Twilight cleared her throat.   “Anyway, they were slightly less thrilled when it turned out you would have to move into the castle.  Still, it was such a good opportunity and it was the princess after all, so they acquiesced.”

“I vaguely remember that,” Twilight put in.  “Or I remember coming to live in the castle, though I don’t remember where I came to live there from.  Which is odd now that I think of it.  A foal of that age should definitely be old enough to have some memories of home.”

“That’s where things got strange for us as well,” Shining said.  “After they dropped you off they were completely unable to contact you.  Letters were returned unopened.  The guards at the palace wouldn’t let them in.  They even went to petition the princess in court and were denied entry.  I was pretty young at the time, but I remember coming home after school one day and finding mom sobbing at the kitchen table.  She wept that she’d sold her daughter for a pile of bits.”

“That’s awful,” Twilight commented sadly.

“Yeah, that’s the kind of thing that sticks with a colt.  I swore then and there that I would find a way into the castle.”  He shrugged.  “Of course, I was too young to really understand that that was only part of the problem.  I thought that if I could just get inside then everything else would work itself out.  I joined the royal guard and within a few years, lo and behold, there I was inside the castle.”

“Why didn’t you come find me then?” Twilight asked.  “Once you’d risen a few ranks in the guard it should have been easy enough to schedule a meeting.  Or,” and here Twilight looked appalled at the heresy she was speaking, “you could have just come and found me without any kind of schedule at all.”

“Oh I did,” he said grimly.  “Both strategies.  I’d heard how carefully you budgeted your time and tried to schedule something at first, but any meeting I arranged was mysteriously perpetually delayed.  Finally, I got fed up and just lurked in the castle library for three days straight, knowing that you would eventually show up.”

Twilight managed a small smile at that.  “Yeah, I can’t think of a better way to meet me.  That should have worked, though.  I don’t remember ever going more than three days without visiting the library, and I also don’t remember meeting you there.”

“Exactly, you don’t remember.”  Shining Armor learned forward and put his hoof over hers where it rested on the bed.  “I tried, Twilight.  Over and over I tried to talk to you, to ask how you were doing and remind you of our parents.  And each time I started talking to you, at the very second I mentioned being family, your eyes would glaze over and you would forget everything we had been talking about.  If I kept trying to talk to you, you would wander away as if you literally couldn’t perceive that a pony was speaking to you.”

“And so by the time this expedition started you were conditioned not to bring up family around me,” Twilight finished slowly.

“Yes.  It’s been hard not saying anything these past few months.  I decided that I shouldn’t say anything while we were working together because I couldn’t risk you forgetting me at a crucial moment.  It was only after this injury that I decided to try at least one more time.  I couldn’t bear the thought that one of us might die on this expedition and you’d never know about your family.”  Shining Armor brought his hooves up as if to hug her and then hesitated and slowly lowered them back down.  “Sorry.  This must all sound so strange to you.  Finding my little sister has been the focus of my life and here you are hearing about it for the first time.  The first time that you can remember anyway.”

Twilight hadn’t moved when he made to hug her but she was relieved when he had refrained.  It was simply too much, too quickly, so she focused on the one part that did make sense to her.  “So you claim that the reason we could link so easily is because we’re siblings.  That would make sense.  Siblings naturally have similar magical pathways and anyway we both worked for the crown and lived in Canterlot for most of our lives so there wouldn’t be much opportunity for divergence on that front.”

“That’s fine for the magic part,” he said.  “But do you believe me?  About being family I mean.”

“I’m not sure.”  Twilight let out a little huff and ran her hoof through her mane.  “The fact that we linked is suggestive, but that’s a pretty extraordinary claim.  Do you have any evidence?”

“Evidence?” he said blankly.  “Oh you mean evidence that we’re related?  Not with me, though back in Canterlot our parents have plenty of photographs of you as a foal, including one after you got your cutie mark but right before you left.  Would that convince you?”

“Maybe,” Twilight hummed.  “It would help anyway.”

“Don’t you have a spell that can tell if we’re related somehow?” he asked.

“Not one that would work right off the bat,” Twilight responded.  She frowned in thought.  “Although, if I modified a paternity spell...” she trailed off.

“Why do you know a paternity spell?” Shining asked, caught somewhere between alarm and curiosity.

“Rarity talked me into reading a romance novel,” Twilight replied absently, still lost in thought.  “One of the plot points revolved around being uncertain who the father of a foal was.  I got curious and looked up ways to test for paternity using magic.”  Her horn lit up and her eye scanned back and forth, mentally examining the inner workings of the paternity test spell.  “Yes I think I can use this.  It won’t be certain, but if it turns up positive that’s something at least.  You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not,” Shining said confidently.  “Is there anything you need from me?”

“I’ll need a few drops of blood.”  As she spoke Twilight raised a hoof to her horn and made a small incision.  She caught the few drops of blood that welled up in her magic and raised them to eye level.  “Just like that.”

Following suit, Shining Armor raised his hoof to his horn, wincing as the motion jostled his aching head.  Twilight collected the blood from him as well and held both droplets before her.  The glow around her horn and the droplets brightened and her concentration intensified.  Altering a spell on the fly to complete an only tangentially related task was no easy feat.  Still, she enjoyed the challenge

At first, Twilight had thought she might be able to simply determine the relation between the donors of the droplets of blood.  Unfortunately, it turned out that that use was too far from the original intent of the spell and her modifications failed.

Her next idea proved more successfully.  She set the spell to perform a paternity test on each droplet of blood and then compare the results.  Without the paternal blood the test wasn’t one hundred percent accurate, but in the absence of parental blood it could still compare the results for each droplet and provide a reasonably confident assessment of whether the blood donors had had the same father.

Sure enough, when that modified spell was successfully cast, both droplets of blood flashed green, signifying a positive result.  Twilight incinerated the blood to safely dispose of it and turned back to Shining Armor.

“So, that’s it.  We appear to have the same father, at the very least.”  She hesitated then continued, tripping over the words.  “You really are my… my big brother.”

“You don’t have to force yourself,” he said gently.  “Like I said before, it’s enough that you know.  If something happens to me, you can go get the truth from our parents in Canterlot.”

“It’s just, I’ve only ever had a little brother, I’m not sure how to relate to a–” Twilight broke off and her eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed.  “Spike!  If he’s not included you can forget about me having anything to do with your family,” she said warningly.

“While he obviously isn’t biologically related to us,” Shining began, continuing hastily at the danger signs in Twilight’s eyes, “he is, of course, welcome and I’d be proud to call a dragon my brother.”

“Good,” Twilight said, sounding satisfied.  “That’s going to be a difficult conversation.  I think you’d better let me be the one to tell him.”

“I think that might be for the best,” Shining Armor said ruefully, remembering his brief showdown with the dragon on the practice field.

“Wait, Spike, that’s it!” Twilight said excitedly.  “That’s why I could remember this time.  This was the first time you tried to tell me anything after I had lost my eye, right?”

Shining Armor was understandably confused.  “Yes, this was the first time I tried to speak with you in years.  What difference did losing your eye make?”

Twilight had jumped up from her seat and started to pace as she thought.  “Because when I lost my eye I had a spell going haywire on my brain and I had Spike breathe dragonfire into my eye.”

“You had Spike do what?” Shining Armor sat up, alarmed, but Twilight wasn’t listening.

“Somepony must have put a memory spell on me that was wiped out by the magic cancelling effects of the dragonfire.  That might even explain the increase in my mental processing speed that I noticed right afterward” She thought aloud, still striding furiously from wall to wall in the cramped hospital room.  “But who?  Based on what you said it has to have happened immediately after I became Celestia’s student.”

“Who is Celestia?  Twilight please tell me what you’re talking about.” Shining Armor pleaded, not really expecting a response.

“So somepony placed a powerful memory spell on me while I was under Celestia’s tutelage and in all the years she taught me she never noticed it?  And she never thought it was strange that I never had any contact with my family?  That doesn’t make any sense. Unless…”  The rush of words slowed and Twilight dropped heavily back into the seat.  “Unless she knew.  No, more, unless she placed the spell herself.”

“Equestria to Twilight, come in Twilight.”  Shining Armor practically shouted, dragging her attention back out of her thoughts.  Her eyes snapped to him, though she was still trembling with nervous energy at the thoughts running through her head.  “Look, I don’t know exactly what you’re talking about, but it’s pretty clearly something that happened in the past.  So, please, take a moment to breathe and fill me in and maybe I can help you somehow.”  He smiled slightly.  “After all, no matter what a little sister’s predicament it’s a big brother’s job save her.”

Only two words seemed to percolate Twilight’s fugue.  “Save her…save her,” she mumbled.  “But can I?  Should I?  Would it even work?  I need to… I need to…”  She looked up, her lavender eyes fixing Shining Armor in place.  “I need to go.  I’m sorry Shining Armor.  This can’t wait.”

“But you haven’t even explained anything,” he feebly protested.

“I know.  If I’m right I’ll be explaining everything at the general strategy meeting, but I have to hurry.”  For just a moment her voice softened.  “Thank you.  I think you might have just given me an important piece of the puzzle.”  She leaned forward and hugged the dumbstruck stallion.

Then, while he was still confused by her sudden display of affection, she made her escape, smiling slightly as he recovered enough to call “you’re welcome!” after her retreating form.
> Arc 3 Chapter 2: An Excessively Long Meeting
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Luna was, if not happy, then at least content.  Oh she knew that their position was more precarious now than it had ever been, and it hadn’t escaped her notice that most of the army was grieving for those lost in the recent battle.  Still, her task of negotiation with the dragons had gone as well as it possibly could have, considering all the facts.  In addition, she had arrived in time to singlehoofedly save a not-inconsiderable portion of her army.  To her mind, nothing felt as good as seeing ponies look to her for salvation and then to promptly deliver it.

Then too, there was the dark part of her mind, with which she was far too well acquainted, that took some pleasure in seeing Twilight Sparkle humbled a little bit.  It wasn’t a large part, and she certainly mourned Fluttershy’s death, but neither could she deny that that part of her existed and was darkly pleased.

Tempering that good mood was the fact that her daily self-portraits had reverted from showing her younger self to showing the Nightmare.  And, if anything, it appeared to be growing more distinct and crueler as the days passed.  However, with the confidence she gained from the admiration of her ponies, she felt equal to the challenges she faced. And what a new and intoxicating feeling that was.

For the general strategy meeting she had offered up one of the unused rooms in the building she had chosen for her dwelling.  It was on the top floor, with one broad wall of windows looking out onto a city square below.  When it had been found the room had held within it a broad circular table of stone cunningly cured and treated to look like dark wood.  Chairs surrounded the table, similarly designed, though Luna had had cushions placed atop them to ameliorate the discomfort of sitting directly on cold hard stone.  A modern military table rested against one corner of the room and held refreshments and heated thermoses for tea or, for those souls that dared go against the herd, coffee.

As ponies filed in Luna reflected ruefully that this might be the largest gathering of ponies and other beings with which she was acquainted since before her banishment.  She only wished that it was for a happier reason.

Despite his injury, Shining Armor was the first to arrive, still looking shell-shocked either from that injury or from whatever he had discussed with Twilight.  Applejack followed close behind, ready to catch him if he stumbled.  Apparently the two had become friends at some point during Applejack’s long hours on the training field.

Rainbow Dash and Gilda came in next.  Both looked exhausted, but in Gilda worry competed with that exhaustion while in Rainbow Dash the exhaustion was simply subordinated to a simmering rage.  She was the only pony to attend armed, for she still had not removed the bloodstained Ebonite gloves.  The air sparked as Dash found a seat.  Gilda followed in Dash’s shadow and her eyes reflexively examined the room for threats before being drawn like a lodestone back to Dash.

Rarity slipped in a moment later, and a worried frown covered her face as she shepherded a vacant looking Pinkie into the room.  Spike followed after, worried about Rarity in turn.  The remaining three free dragons, Thraxus, Iolite, and Sim came in his wake.  Iolite looked uncertain about having been invited to this meeting while Sim wore its customary equanimity.

Thraxus, on the other hoof, scanned the room with purpose and he nodded in satisfaction when he saw Rainbow Dash.  He strode purposefully over to her.

“You spoke last at Fluttershy’s funeral,” he said.

Slowly, Dash dragged her eyes down to regard the small red dragon that spoke to her.  From where she sat behind Thraxus’ back, Luna could see his wings shiver at the full weight of Dash’s regard.  Though to his credit, he did not flinch.

“You spoke as well,” Dash said at last.  “You called yourself her enemy.”

“You called yourself her sister,” he returned.  “And you swore vengeance.”

“Yes.”

“Tell me.  By watching you, will I learn what manner of pony she was?”

“No.  But-“ she broke off and turned to Gilda, her eyes begging the griffon to find the words she couldn’t.

“We will offer tribute to her, perhaps,” Gilda said, struggling herself.  “It isn’t what she would have wanted.  But it’s all that those who miss her most can give.”

Dash nodded.  “Yes.  For her, we do what she would never have asked.”

Thraxus considered this, then nodded himself.  “I find myself bereft of meaning in her absence.  I will see this tribute that is to her, but not of her, and perhaps in doing so I will come to understand.  I will fight at your side.”

“You spoke for her,” Dash said.  Then she nodded to the chair on her left, on the opposite side from Gilda.  Thraxus took his seat, next to her and apart from the other dragons, and they did not speak again.

It had been a strange interaction, to be sure.  Though she did not know the other pony well, Luna was concerned for Rainbow Dash’s state of mind.  Still, it seemed she’d managed to bind another of the dragons more closely to their cause.  Perhaps that would do them all some good.

While Rainbow Dash and Thraxus were speaking, Sunlit Rooms had made the long trek from her room downstairs up to the conference room.  That left only one absent pony from those who were meant to attend.  Seeing no cause to force the others to wait in discomfort, Luna spoke up.

“Those who have arrived should feel free to help themselves to the refreshments in the back.  We will begin in a few more minutes when everypony has joined us.”

Some members of the gathering made their way across the room to munch on the snacks and pour themselves some tea.  As they did so, Sunlit Rooms quietly commented to Luna, “I can’t recall Twilight Sparkle ever being late.  It’s very peculiar, that she should be the last to arrive.”

“I know Twilight values punctuality, but surely even she can’t be on time all the time,” Luna said frowning.

“Oh she absolutely can,” Rarity put in, leaning closer so she could speak softly.  “In fact, if she isn’t here in three minutes I’d send out a search party or rouse the guard because something must be seriously wrong.”

Fortunately, a search part did not prove to be required.  Two minutes later Twilight skidded into the room, obviously out of breath from having run over.  Everypony turned to stare at her.

Unmindful of their stares she shouted triumphantly, “I’ve found her!”

Only one other pony immediately followed that train of thought.  Luna leapt across the table and wrapped her hooves around the smaller pony in a display of intimacy that would have startled them both in another circumstance.  “Wonderful!  How?  Where?  When can we bring her back?”  Loosening her grip slightly she tugged Twilight toward the table.  “Come.  Sit and tell us everything.”

“It’s not all good news,” Twilight cautioned as she took her seat on Luna’s right.  “But at least we know more than we did.”

“I think we’d all appreciate some context before you tell us your discovery,” Shining Armor said.  “If I correctly recall what you said on the train, then she” is probably that missing princess.  Celeste, was it?  But I’m not sure I remember everything of importance.”

“Celestia,” Twilight corrected automatically.  “Right, not everypony, sorry, everyone” she corrected with a nod to the dragons and Gilda, “knows about this, especially our new allies over there.  I’ll provide a quick explanation of the situation.”

“I’ll do it,” Luna broke in.  “The beginning anyway.  It seems only fitting.”  She took a deep breath and thought for a moment about the best way to explain everything.  Finding her opening, she began.  “As some of you know, I am not the only alicorn.  I had – have- a sister.  Originally Equestria was a diarchy and we ruled together.  A disagreement caused me to be absent from Equestria for 1000 years.”

Twilight shot her a sharp look at this euphemistic way to refer to the Nightmare.  Luna raised an eyebrow and Twilight subsided, realizing that it would do no pony’s morale any favors to know that full truth.   Though the look on her face spoke volumes about her discomfort with that circumlocution.

Satisfied, Luna continued.  “I only returned a few years ago.  Much of my time up until six months ago was spent getting up to date on the modern world while my sister continued to run the government.  We had a… discussion about the cause of our conflict long ago.  As a result, my sister decided that I should be given a turn to rule without either her oversight or her reputation to weigh me down.  She cast a very peculiar spell, one that I believe Twilight should be able to explain better than I can,” Luna said, passing the story over to Twilight.

“Ah, right, yes.”  Sitting up straight, Twilight assumed a lecturing tone.  “As most everyone here knows, immortal magic is different in kind than that accessed by mortals.  The relevant difference here is the source of immortal magic.  Spells and free magic depend on the energy within a mage and are limited by what their body can draw in from the natural world and process to become their ‘type’, for lack of a better word.  This is a fundamental limit to how much magic a mortal can use at one time.”

“Most of us are, I believe, are familiar with that basic theory of magic,” Sim said impatiently, “you may continue.”

“I’m not,” Applejack cut in with her trademark bluntness.  “But I think I got the gist of it.  Go on then, Twi, what does all that magic theory actually mean?”

Clearing her throat, Twilight continued.  “Essentially, immortal magic doesn’t have that ‘type’ limitation.  Immortals can use the magic of the natural world without converting it to their type first.  This means that it can be incredibly powerful.  However, Immortals still have to reside in a body, and that places limits on how much power they can safely use.  Celestia cast a spell that made everypony forget that she had ever existed, but to do that she burned out her ability to use immortal magic.  It’s like,” she paused, searching for the proper comparison.  “It’s kind of like pouring gunpowder into a train engine.  There might be a burst of speed, but the engine itself is going to be destroyed.”

“So what actually happened to the poor dear when she cast that spell?” Rarity asked.

“We’re not entirely sure,” Twilight answered.  “I think she’d planned to burn herself out to a certain degree.  I suspect she planned to hide in a mortal body and keep an eye on things while she recovered her ability to use immortal magic.  Instead, it seems as though burning herself out caused her to split in two, and at least part of her consciousness went with her connection to immortal magic.  That raises really interesting questions about the nature of magic and its connection with personality and the soul.  For instance–“

“Perhaps the new lines of inquiry can wait for later, Twilight?” Luna interrupted, noting the glazed looks on everyone else in the room except Sim.

Twilight collected herself.  “Right.  Anyway, Celestia’s immortal magic managed to get a message to Luna asking for help, and since then we’ve been trying to find some way of locating her.”  She grimaced.  “When we weren’t trying to deal with this situation anyway.”

“Which is the limit of my knowledge.  Now, I presume your earlier excitement means that you have some progress to report on that front?” Luna couldn’t quite keep the impatience or the hope out of her voice.

Agitation ate into Twilight, and she rose to start her customary pacing.  “Earlier, Shining Armor revealed some facts about my past which had been unknown to me.  The precise nature of those revelations is personal, but the upshot of it was that I deduced that I had had a powerful memory spell placed on me for the entire time I was under Celestia’s tutelage.”

“Surely I would have noticed if anypony had put a memory spell on you, Twilight,” Spike said.  “After all, we were hardly ever apart and since I’m a dragon they couldn’t just place one on me as well.”

“If I’m right it was placed on me mere days after you were hatched, Spike.  In fact,” she added sadly, “you’ve never known the Twilight that hatched you.  My mind, my personality, my everything was shaped and formed by that spell.  Still, that spell only had one purpose and that didn’t have anything to do with you.  So, the love I feel for you, little brother, is entirely my own.  You’re not getting out of being family that easily.”  She paused in her pacing and ruffled Spike’s head spines with her hoof, an act possible only because he was sitting on the floor.

“I’m glad for that, at least,” Spike said, though he looked more concerned than relieved.  “So what was the one purpose that the spell was meant for?”

“I suspect, thought I don’t know, that it had two functions.”  Twilight’s face twisted with distaste.  “First, it redirected all the love and care I had for my family to the caster of the spell, wiping out any memory of my family in the process.  Second, it encouraged an artificial focus so that I would develop an, in retrospect unhealthy, fixation on the caster.”

Shining Armor gasped.  “So that’s why–“

“Yes,” Twilight cut in, shooting him a glare that clearly said she expected him to keep quiet.

“And the reason you’re telling us this – the reason that it matters,” Luna said slowly, “is that the pony that cast the spell was…”

“Yes,” Twilight said again.  “It was Princess Celestia.”

“No!” Spike exclaimed, sitting up straight and staring from Luna to Twilight and back again.  “Come on, Twilight, the Princess wouldn’t do that.  She just wouldn’t.  She raised us, remember?  She cared about us, and she showed that over and over again.  How many times did she hold us when we were feeling scared or spoil us with gifts and attention?  I can’t believe that that was all a lie!”

“I don’t–“ Twilight’s voice trembled and nearly broke.  She dropped heavily into her seat.  “I don’t understand it either, Spike.  I didn’t want to believe it.  It just seemed like a possibility I should check.  What I found doesn’t leave much room for alternative interpretations, at least not that I can see.”

“And what did you find?” Luna asked severely.  “For I too find it hard to believe that of my sister.  Though I doubt you would have brought mere conjecture here.”

Twilight forced herself upright and continued her explanation.  “After the Celestia cast the spell to make everypony forget her, I found my head aching, growing worse each time the name ‘Celestia’ was mentioned.  The two spells were at cross purposes and very nearly tore my head apart in the process of struggling for dominance.  The spell of forgetting was likely stronger, but the obsession spell was more precisely targeted and it was supplemented by the wards against memory spells that I had in place around my home.  They were so equally matched that neither could fully resolve, and my poor brain was simply collateral damage.”

“So when you had me breathe fire in your eye it unintentionally cancelled out both spells,” Spike said, understanding dawning.

“Right,” Twilight said, nodding.  “However, having a spell contorting my thoughts for most of my life left its mark.”  She looked physically ill and as she continued more than a few of those gathered shared that sentiment.  “Specifically, it marked my brain.  It’s actually possible to trace the scaring in my brain tissue where the spell forced certain mental pathways on me.  As awful as that is, it means that while the dragon fire cleansed away the magical traces of the spell, it couldn’t remove the physical traces.”

Sim’s was the first, and possibly only one to understand Twilight’s point.  “I see.  Since the spells were equally matched when they fought in your mind you know they are inverses of one another.  One of the spells led to the dissolution of the caster.  So, with a reconstruction of the other spell you could use the magical trace to track the caster of the other spell.  Though to recreate a magical trace from physical evidence in a living brain would be nigh on impossible.”

A hint of pride flickered across Twilight’s face.  “Why do you think I was two minutes late?”

Sim’s eyes widened.  “You managed this?  In less than a single day?”  It sat back on its tail.  “It seems I underestimated you Twilight Sparkle.”

“Magic I can do.  Other things,” she hesitated memories of recent events clearly replaying themselves behind her eyes.  With an effort she pushed them back. “I have trouble with other things.  But magic works.  I found the trace and tracked it.”

“So where is she?” Luna demanded.

“When we first arrived here you told me, Luna, that magic flows here,” Twilight said, speaking quickly now that her tale was reaching its end.  “Like the tides it flows to and from that spire in the center, sometimes erupting from the top of the spire to spread even further.  I thought at the time that there had to be some form of wellspring beneath the crystal spire to provide the impetus for that flow.  I’m now convinced of that, because when I followed the trace I found Celestia’s immortal magic had been drawn deep beneath the spire.”

“Of course she would have been drawn to Hvergelmir.  Where else would loose immortal magic go?”  Sim’s words tickled the back of Luna’s mind, but, frustratingly, nothing quite became clear.

“You will have to explain,” Luna said stiffly.  “What is Hvergelmir?”

Sim peered around, apparently startled at not being understood.  “You haven’t told them?  But no, you asked the question.  Do you truly not know why we’re all here?” Sim asked incredulously.

“My absence from Equestria was not entirely voluntary.  As a result, certain memories are missing, particularly those near in time to that absence, such as some details from the conflict with Sombra,” Luna admitted reluctantly.  “I recall only that there is something important about the magic of this place.  This has plagued us for the past six months.  Now that we are allies I look forward to a proper answer.”

Sim glanced around again and found confusion and curiosity in every face save Thraxus’.  The newly small ancient red dragon was the only other being old enough and with a clear enough memory of the past to possess the knowledge they sought, and he did not seem inclined to speak.  Luna’s heart fell as she watched avarice fill Sim’s eyes at the realization of its position of power.

“I will answer,” it said, “but first I have a question of my own.  A personal one, for my own benefit not that of the nation of dragons.  It should cost you nothing to answer.”

“You would hold your knowledge hostage even in the face of our mutual foe?” Luna asked, her tone low and dangerous.

“I would,” Sim acknowledged.  “It is the deepest wish of my heart, and a simple question at that.”

Luna snorted.  “Ha!  As if that makes it better.  Fine, ask your question.  But know that we will not forget this.”

Sim took a deep breath and spoke with a desperate urgency.  “As most of you know, I am not a natural dragon, but a simulacrum of one.  I was built seven generations and untold millennia ago, presumably by an immortal.  Princess Luna, once known as a goddess of art and music and sculpture, am I the product of your creative genius?”

Though surprised, Luna’s expression softened.  Sim had not been lying when it’d said that this question was for personal, rather than national benefit. “That’s what you wanted to know?  Now that we are allies you could have simply asked at any point; I would not have refused you an answer.  However, I am confident that I did not make you.”

“Do you know which immortal might have done so?” it pressed, almost pleading.  “Is there any way for you to determine that?”

“The immortal magic in your soul,” Twilight put in.  Everyone turned to look at her.  “Remember, back when you showed me your soul, I could detect the immortal magic, but the traces appeared to have been worn away over your generations.  Perhaps Luna could see something I could not.”

Luna sighed.  “If it will not take long, I would be willing to examine it.  The rest of you should feel free to stretch your legs as we take a short break.”

“The suspense is going to kill me,” Spike muttered.   “I’m not sure how many more revelations I can take, and I bet there are still a few more to come.”

Still, he and the other ponies, dragons, and griffon seemed to appreciate the opportunity to move around.  Some drifted to the food table, while others left the room in search of a restroom.  Soon only Twilight, Luna, and Sim remained clustered around on arc of the table.

“So, how exactly am I to examine your soul?” Luna asked.

In answer, a blue glow surrounded Sim and a deep hum emanated from within its chest.  It opened its mouth and glowing ball of blue light emerged.  The physical light it put out was minimal, but to Luna’s magical senses the ball blazed like a bonfire.

“Impressive,” Luna commented despite herself.  She called up her immortal sight to allow her to fully parse the magic before her.  “Now, give me a moment to find the immortal magic components.”

“They’re here and here,” Twilight said.  She had already cast the spells that would allow her to examine the soul in detail and now she cast another that would provide a harmless marking to guide Luna to the important areas.

“Ah, yes.  Thank you, Twilight.  Let me see.”  Luna peered closely at the components Twilight had indicated.  Sure enough, the Archmage had successfully located the immortal magic.  However, as Luna looked closer she was surprised by what she saw.

To her eyes immortal magic should have been tinted in the colors of the immortal that cast it.  A brilliant yellow for Celestia, deep blue for herself, the light green of wind for Warlord Aquila, and so on for the others.  Sombra’s dark black was especially distinct, even if there was something off in his immortal magic, as if it was not quite truly immortal magic or he didn’t quite know what it was that he was using.

The colors of the immortal caster should have been present, even if the markers that Twilight would have had to use were too faint to detect.  However, the magic she saw in Sim’s soul was nearly colorless.  Out of curiosity, Luna poured more magic into her sight, trying to determine if there was even the faintest glimmer of color.  At last her efforts were rewarded with the barest hint of light blue the exact same shade as Sim’s scales.  Pensive, Luna allowed her spell to fade and sat back.

“Well, Princess Luna?” Sim asked.  “What did you see?”

“I suppose you should simply call me Luna, might as well start getting used to it,” the princess said.  Twilight did a double take, clearly remembering the conflict they’d had over respectful modes of address.  Sim, though, just looked confused.

“May I ask why?” it said carefully.

“The immortal magic within you is not the work of another,” Luna said.  “It is yours, just barely, but it’s there.”

Whatever Sim had been expecting to hear, that was not it.  “I cannot be an immortal.  I have aged, died, even.  How can I be the seventh generation of my kind if I am an immortal?”  Anxiety colored its tone and its tail lashed the back of the chair as it spoke.  “This must be some kind of mistake.”

Luna shook her head slowly.  “You are not quite an immortal yet, but you are on the very cusp of ascension.  I can’t answer everything, but I suspect that your original thought was correct.  Another immortal fashioned you to be mortal a very long time ago.  Over the years, you drew closer and closer to what is necessary to ascend, and in the process you have begun to claim the immortal magic contained in your soul.”

“You know the steps for a mortal to ascend, to become an immortal?” Twilight asked.  “I suppose Celestia implied that it was known in her letter, but I thought she was speaking metaphorically of some mystical process.”  Twilight’s eyes were alight with curiosity, something Luna was pleased to see, after the toll the revelations about Celestia’s memory spell had taken on her.

Luna was also surprised to realize that Twilight’s curiosity did not engender feelings of fear.  She’d come to trust the other pony far more than she would have expected.  Twilight was not Sombra.  Despite the similarities in their magical talents, they had made very different choices in their lives and it was on those choices that Luna could depend.

Glancing around, Luna confirmed that the other ponies and assorted beings were out of earshot.  She leaned in and gestured for Twilight and Sim to do so as well.  Cautiously, they did so, watching Luna with unabashed curiosity.

“I can say this only to the two of you.  All immortals know what it is that separates us from mortals.  While there is no set process, we do have a good idea of what might have to occur for a mortal to ascend.”

She stopped speaking.  Sim and Twilight glanced at one other in confusion and then back to her.  “So what is it,” Twilight asked intently.  “What does it take to ascend?”

Luna smirked and sat back.  “Oh I can’t tell you that until and unless you actually ascend.  But since you both might someday, I can at least admit to you that a process exists.”

“Argh!”  Twilight groaned as she sat back in her chair.  “That was cruel, Luna, to dangle knowledge in front of me and then take it away.”

Sim, however, was still looking down thoughtfully.  “There is a process, and you say that I hover just on the edge of completing it.  I wonder…”  It looked up, face entirely seriously.  “I will have to think on this.  Will you permit me a brief moment alone?”

“Of course,” Luna waved casually.  “I think Twilight and I could use a break and a drink as well.  We’ll take five and then when everyone comes back it’ll be your turn to tell us what you know.”

“Ah, yes, I had nearly forgotten.  Yes, though you didn’t provide the information I sought, you have certainly paid a more than fair price for what I know.  I will tell you everything when I return.”  Sim rose from the table.  Rather than join the other beings around the refreshments, it glowed blue for a moment and then undulated directly through the window and up into the air.

“Well, that was quite an exit,” Twilight remarked.  “Still, I can blame it for needing a moment to think.  That was quite a bombshell to drop.  So, if it’s on the edge, where would you say I am on the path to immortality?”

“You’re 32.456% there,” Luna answered drily.

“Thanks.”  Twilight rolled her eye.

“So far as I know, it’s never actually occurred, despite being technically possible,” Luna said more seriously.  “I don’t know if you will ascend or precisely how that might occur.  I just know that you have the potential and what general steps it would take.  Now come on,” she added, rising from her seat.  “I need another cup of tea and I suspect there’s quite a bit more talking to do,”

“Whatever you say, princess.”  Twilight rose as well and the two trotted over to the tea.


***


Fifteen minutes later the meeting reconvened, with Luna easily taking the lead.

“I hope you are all refreshed and ready to continue.  Now, we payed your price, Sim, and I think you judged it fair.  Tell us what you know.”

Sim, for its part, was still bemused by the recent revelations.  However, at her words, it nodded and rallied its attention to the matter at hoof.

“Very well.  As Twilight reminded us, the magic of the natural world suffuses everything we see.  Immortals can draw on it directly, while mortals innately draw that power into themselves so that they can convert it into a form they can use.  This is true for creatures like unicorns and dragons, who use magic intentionally, and for griffons and earth ponies, who tend to use magic intuitively.”

“What about pegasi?” Gilda asked, glancing over at Rainbow Dash.

“A mix,” Sim said.  “Flight is innate, but the weather control that they display has to be controlled intentionally.  Anyway, all the natural magic that every living thing uses has to come from somewhere.”

“Yggdrasil’s grove,” Twilight put in, looking interested.  “At the far southern tip of the world Yggdrasil, the immortal of the ents, tends the world tree. Or is the world tree.  The books aren’t exactly clear.”

Sim nodded.  “Quite.  It can be hard to tell the ents from their trees sometimes, but the difference hardly matters for our purposes.  The world tree has roots which reach below the underside of the world and branches that stretch through the firmament to drink in the light beyond.  It spreads that light to our world as natural magic.”

“This is fascinating, but I don’t understand the connection,” Twilight said.  “The southern tip of the world is as far away as it’s possible to be.  What does any of this have to do with the Crystal Empire?”

In the moment of hesitation before Sim spoke, Luna felt a premonition of what was to come.  The knowledge waited just on the tip of her mind, still clouded by the fog that hid the events surrounding the Nightmare. Now, though, she could almost make out shapes in that fog, and those silhouettes were frightening beyond measure.  After all this time there were still truths from the Nightmare that she dared not face.

Sim had kept speaking, not noticing her discomfort.  “Tell me, Twilight, how many poles does a magnet have?”

“Two, of course, but why-“ she broke off, eyes widening in shock as she understood what it was getting at.  “There was another source of magic here.  Another world tree?  Is that what you’re saying?”

Sim shook its head.  “Not a world tree, but a wellspring of magic.  Hvergelmir it was named long ago.  Luna sealed it to prevent Sombra from claiming it back then.  I do not know how.  I would not have thought it could be done.”

“It was the two of us,” Luna said as hazy memories swam forward in her mind.  “Sombra had gained control of the Crystal Empire and we knew that could not stand.  Celestia and I used the Elements of Harmony, trusting that they would do something to help.  They sealed away the Empire, Sombra, and I must suppose Hvergelmir as well.”  A phrase floated to the forefront and Luna uttered it.  “We gave up half the magic of the world to save the rest.”

“So you did,” Sim said heavily.  “A decision you made for all of us.  I will not deny that I was with the rest of the world in calling for your head at that time.  Even with a thousand years to get used to it, I haven’t become accustomed to having half the magic that I once did.”

“I do not remember the incident to recall whether or not I judged it to be worth the price at the time,” Luna said honestly.  “I will only ask that you defer any headhunting until after Sombra is dealt with.”

“Wait wait,” Twilight broke in, and Luna chuckled at the foal-like wonder on Twilight’s face.  “Don’t tell me that with the return of Hvergelmir the magic of the world will double?  We’ll all have access to twice as much magic as we do now?  What wonders could we make with that much power?” she wondered dreamily.

“I’m sure you’ve wondered how Starswirl the Bearded and the other ancient mages accomplished some of their feats,” Luna said.  “Now you’ll have your chance to match them.”

Twilight looked as though she was about to run off and become performing experiments immediately, but Applejack spoke and her words brought everyone back down to Equestria.

“That’s all fine and dandy,” she said, “but it’s under Sombra’s control now, ain’t it?”

That burst the burgeoning enthusiasm as quickly as a needle at a balloon party.  There were heavy sighs around 
the table and many dropped their gazes to their laps.

Rarity glanced around.  “Forgive me, but I’m not exactly the best at magical theory.  What does it mean when we say that Sombra controls it?”

Silence greeted her question.  Everyone first turned to look at Sim.  It raised its claws in protestation.  “Don’t look at me.  I don’t know why Luna, and Princess Celestia apparently, found it necessary to seal it in the first place.”

With that, the gazes swung over to Luna.  She shook her head.  “I don’t remember.  It’s bad, obviously, but I can’t say exactly how.  Perhaps something to do with the control Sombra now exerts over the dragons?”

“That could well be it,” Sim agreed.

“And if he controls the dragons,” Luna continued, “despite their superior magical defenses, then I feel confident in guessing that he controls the griffons as well.”

“He does,” Twilight confirmed, though she stumbled at the memories explaining brought to the fore.  “During the… conflict a week ago the griffons fought with an unnatural level of coordination despite repeatedly losing their chain of command.”

“What happened to their chain of command?” Thraxus asked, displaying interest in the proceedings for the first time.

“I did,” said Rainbow, grimly satisfied.  Thraxus nodded in approval and relaxed back into his seat beside her.

Twilight ignored the digression and continued.  “In addition, the speed with which they mobilized their army is only plausible if we assume they knew of our ambush the second it was sprung.  It couldn’t have been a trap that they prepared ahead of time because then they would have been ready earlier.  And if they only learned that they needed to mobilize the army when the first troops made it back, then we would have had time to make it back to the city without fighting.”

“So Sombra has under his control the dragons, the griffons, and presumably the nobles and soliders Blueblood brought with him from Canterlot,” Luna summed up.  “Not to mention the power and skill necessary to control that many entities and to hide it from my sight.  And, if we leave him alone, he is guaranteed to control half the magic of the world through Hvergelmir, whatever that means.”  Frowns and fear greeted her as she scanned the room.  “Have I missed anything?”

“Actually,” Shining Armor said hesitantly, raising his hoof.  “I think there is one more thing.  Sombra’s favorite trick is seems to be taking control of others and he’s likely already possessed some ponies.  How do we know he hasn’t controlled anypony crucial from our army?”

“Yeah, that meanypants could be controlling somepony in this very room, hahaha.”  Pinkie’s playful light hearted manner of speech was so jarring that many in the room flinched before even processing her words.  It was made all the more eerie by the fact that she hadn’t moved.  She sat still, in one place, staring at the floor with her mane a dull flat shade that was such a far cry from its usual vibrant bouncy glory.

“And if somepony,” she chuckled, “if somepony had been, like, kidnapped or something – or would that be ponynapped since that somepony isn’t a goat after all?  Teeheehee.”  Her laughter was terrible to hear, scraping on the ears like cutlery on porcelain, so devoid of its usual heart.

Twilight clearly couldn’t bear it anymore.  “Pinkie, what are you–“

Pinkie grew louder, the false cheer in her words more pronounced, but she still stared at the floor, utterly unmoving.  “And if that silly pony was taken by the griffons, who were themselves, hahaha, possessed by that dirty rotten no good Sombra, why she might get possessed by him too.  Isn’t that just the silliest thing you ever heard, you guys?” With a final broken giggle-snort, she fell silent.

No pony moved or knew what to say.  Pinkie’s meaning had been clear but it was hard to believe Sombra had already claimed one of their own, and so long ago at that.

Finally Luna, feeling that somepony should say something, assayed a question.  “Pinkie, do you mean to say that Sombra has taken control of you?”  A heartbeat passed and everyone held their breath.  Almost, it seemed no answer would be forthcoming.

Suddenly, Pinkie’s head shot upright.  Her eyes were wide and stared unseeing across the table and out the windows.  Though she wasn’t looking at anyone in particular, the gathered beings felt an oily consciousness ooze out of her and slide its obscene regard across their fur, feathers, or scales.  Her mouth opened, like a yawn and further yet, muscles grotesquely contorting in an un-Pinkie like snarl.

A voice came from Pinkie’s open mouth, but it was not her voice.  This voice was deep, melodious, and seductive in its supreme self-confidence.  “I had hoped to stay hidden for longer, but the little element lies restive in my grasp.”

“Sombra!” With the reflexes of a soldier, Shining Armor was the first to react.  He dove down on the table, unmindful of his injured head, and cast a bolt of energy directly at Pinkie Pie.  Just in time, Twilight brought up the familiar pink shield and Shining’s spell splashed harmlessly off it.

“Careful Captain,” Sombra remarked, his voice ringing with amusement.  “You wouldn’t want to harm the poor innocent in my gasp.  She’s aware of what is occurring.  If only you could hear her screaming, well, I couldn’t say what you’d do.  I admit,” he continued, “I had considered driving her to attack until you were forced to kill her, but one dead element is sufficient for my needs.”

“You bastard!” Rainbow Dash was in the air now, gathering energy, but unable to strike without harming Pinkie in the process.

He chuckled.  “Indeed, I am not the kindest of ponies.  However, neither am I needlessly cruel.  I have come here with an offer, one born of kindness, and I believe it will tempt you most of all.”

“I want nothing of yours,” she spat, sparking in the air.

“Not even the return of Fluttershy?” he asked slyly.

“Impossible,” Twilight protested.  “No spell can bring the dead back to life.”

“True, but my specialty has ever been mental magic.  Those favored few who chose to join me willingly dwell in a paradise of their own devising, while I use their bodies in this poor hard world.”  There was a sense that, had Sombra been there himself, his hooves would have been spread, wide and inviting.  “That is my offer to all of you.  Accept me, and your every wish will come true.”

“But it’d be a lie.” Applejack said simply.  “And I have no wish to live in a lie.”

“Even if you could see your parents again?  You could grow up with them, never worrying they or your grandmother might die.  A family complete as it was meant to be.”  The oily regard flowed across the room again, touching each in turn.

“Or you, Luna, could be given a world without a Nightmare.  Wouldn’t you like a world with that sin wiped clean, where you were forever beloved by all?”  As it had been when she first spoke with Sombra, his words carried more weight than they should have.  Against her will, Luna found herself wondering what the world he could create for her would be like, if only she accepted his offer.

Sombra, meanwhile, was still speaking.  “Captain, how would you like a world where your sister never left and you had no need to become a solider?  Wouldn’t you prefer a kinder world, where you need not leave your pregnant wife for six months to face darkness at civilization’s edge?”

They should not have listened, but they could not bring themselves to stop him.  On Sombra went naming desires hidden deeply within each pony, offering all they might want on a silver platter.  All they had to do was surrender this world.  This world which had treated them cruelly, had sundered families, bestowed irremovable regrets, and inflicted abandonment and betrayal with abandon.  Why not simply let it go?  Why not give over this world and let him fashion them a better one?

He came at the last to Twilight.  “For you, Twilight, I have a special offer.  Immortality and a chance to work with me to uncover all the hidden knowledge of the world.  I offer you a chance to rule at my side and shape all that will be.”  Slowly, as if fighting great resistance, Pinkie’s body extended a hoof to Twilight.  “I see in you my younger self, and it would be a terrible waste to send all that fine potential into slumber.”

“That is quite enough.”  Sim’s voice was not loud, but it cut through Sombra’s seductive murmurings as well as a shout of rage.  “You will not have them, not like this.”  The serpentine dragon glowed blue as it gathered its magic.  Then a wave of light flowed from its body, washing over the gathering.  Where the light spread ponies shook themselves, as if coming out of a deep sleep.

That comforting light made visible the shadowy tendrils that had spread from Pinkie as Sombra spoke.  Thick and dark they were, with mouths that whispered pleasant lies to all.  Luna had seen their like the last time she had spoken to Sombra and she cursed herself for not remembering.

“Sim is correct,” she said, embracing her magic.  “No influence spell will bring us to you.”  She let loose a wash of sunlight from her sister’s mantle and nodded in satisfaction as the tendrils burned and the last of the manipulative magic was cleansed away.

Sombra did not even blink at having been caught out.  He spoke again with perfect equanimity.  “I expect no responses now.  After all, I am always around.  Just know this.  If offered the chance, the little pink mare through whom I speak would give anything to accept.”

Sombra’s retreat was palpable, like a drawing of poison from a wound.  Painful, yes, but as it left it was possible to breathe deeply and freely once more.  Pinkie’s mouth closed and her blue eyes dropped back down to the floor.

In a tiny voice, foreign to her natural state but infinitely more appropriate for her morose affect, Pinkie whispered, “help me.”

Rainbow reached her first, though the other four were scarcely far behind.  They wrapped her in their hooves and wings, as if hoping their love and closeness could push back the darkness.

“Say something,” Rainbow begged, “something as you, not as him.”

Pinkie was silent, that one plea for help and her earlier warning had exhausted her strength.  Now that Sombra was not speaking through her she sat silently once again.

While the five of them clustered together, Luna noticed that Shining Armor had risen and walked slowly to the door.  He knocked twice and one of the guards outside peeked in.

“Sir?”

“Send for two more guards,” he ordered.  “We need somepony to escort miss Pie to the gaol.”

“You can’t,” Rarity gasped.

“Sombra can speak through her,” he said tiredly.  “Presumably he can listen and act through her as well.  She can’t stay here while we’re planning his defeat.”

“Of course not!” Rarity was affronted.  “But I hardly think Pinkie is a danger to us.  Remove her if you must, just not to some dingy gaol.”

“No, he’s right.”  Luna’s tone brooked no argument.  “We have disadvantages aplenty, and we cannot accept more out of misplaced sentiment.”  She softened slightly.  “We will see to it that she has every comfort that can be provided, but she cannot be allowed to roam free.  Does this suit, Pinkie?”

A brief, barely perceptible nod came from the possessed pony.  When additional guards, clad in white and gold armor, entered moments later she stood without complaint and allowed them to guide her from the room.  The guards, in a testament to their professionalism, asked no questions about being ordered to confine an Element of Harmony, nor about the order to make her as comfortable as possible.

With Pinkie gone the room felt colder.  Safer, yes, the potential for the cruel regard of Sombra was gone.  But even possessed and with her spirit broken, Pinkie was still the Element of Laughter and a warmth radiated from her like heat from a baker’s oven in the depths of winter.  That comfort was gone now and in its place desperation threatened to bubble over.

“So,” Luna said, drawing focus and trying to alleviate fear with planning.  “We have positively confirmed that Sombra can possess ponies.  If we don’t come up with an answer to that, we might as well head home.”

“Why don’t we?  Head home that is.”  Applejack looked around the room, gauging responses.  “I don’t know about the rest of y’all, but from where I’m sitting this ain’t a fight we can win.  He’s already got everything he wants here, except beating us.  We head home, resupply and reinforce our troops, and face him better prepared.”  She paused for a second, then continued in a quieter tone.  “Besides it’s been a long six months and seeing my kin would do me a world of good.  I bet most of your troops’d feel the same way.”

“We don’t have that kind of time.”  Twilight’s frustration was writ plain on her face.  “Our best chance is to strike before Sombra fully masters Hvergelmir, if he hasn’t already.  Besides, Celestia’s here and I’ve got questions for her.”

“No, Applejack might be right,” Shining Armor said, his words trailing off thoughtfully.

“Shining Armor?” Luna prompted.

“A fighting retreat,” he suggested.  “You get a message to Duke Fancypants and tell him to gather every solider he can and meet us on the way.  We lure them south, to galloping gorge, say, and when our two armies unite we turn and destroy his forces.  Then we can walk into the crystal spire and face him with the princess, the Archmage, and an army.”

“I’m not certain Equestria will remain stable if we remove all the soldiers.  There’s been signs of serious unrest.”  Rarity was concerned, but then, she’d been the one receiving most of the messages from contacts around Equestria.

Shining Armor shot a look at Luna.  “Unrest can be dealt with later.  Given the threat we’re facing, if we lose there won’t be any second chances.”

“There absolutely won’t be any second chances.”  Twilight jumped in.  “That’s why I don’t think leaving is a good idea.  Send for reinforcements, absolutely, but we should stay near Hvergelmir where we can actually make a difference.”

“I would advise for heading back to Equestria,” Sim said.  “As it is, we are outmatched by Sombra’s army, to say nothing of his own powers.  In addition, if he is not completely free from his prison, it is possible his power to command minds will diminish with distance, though we would still need to be wary of his influence.”

“A valid concern.  Tell me, Sunlit Rooms, how fast could the army be prepared to march?” Luna asked.

Though she jumped at being addressed so suddenly, Sunlit Rooms managed to respond promptly.  “Yes Princess.  To prepare all necessary companies and collect the supplies from our stores would require three days.”

“Two,” Twilight corrected.  “We only need two days.  I’ve made some improvements to our departure protocols.  I still believe staying is the best course of action, but I will defer to your judgement, Luna.  Mine has been faulty of late.”  She grimaced, but the lure of planning allowed her to push on.  “We still need some counter for Sombra’s mental control.  It will do us no good to flee if half our army defects in the process.”

“Sombra went to a great deal of trouble to ensure that I, specifically, did not notice his control of the dragons or the griffons for as long as possible,” Luna said thoughtfully.  “He tricked the dragons into imbibing his taint and we don’t know how he claimed the griffons.  For us he made offers supplemented by that mental influence spell he favors.  I don’t think he would have done that if he could simply claim most of my army directly.”

“The natural mental defenses of most living beings are nothing to sneeze at,” Twilight said, ever at home with magical esoterica.  “As we saw from his earlier attempt on us, he obviously weaves influence spells into his offers, predisposing the victim to accept.  He had to make the dragons eat his magic because without that I doubt he could even use magic to influence them.  I doubt the dragons would have accepted his offers without those spells to sway their minds.”

“I suspect you are right about that,” Sim acknowledged.

Twilight nodded.  “That still does leave the question of how we protect the troops from influence spells and keep them from making deals with him.”

“What if we told the truth?” Luna offered simply.  “We let the soldiers know that our enemy seeks to gain dominion over them through poisoned gifts and trust them not to accept Sombra’s offer.  His influence spell emanated from Pinkie so as long as we keep her contained he will hopefully be unable to use that.  Finally, we know that I can see his magic in both dragons and griffons.  I have not examined Pinkie with my true sight, but it stands to reason that I would be able to see his possession of her as well.  In light of that, I can fly over the army every day to check for anypony that has proved weak to temptation.”

“That might prevent him from gaining a beachhead among our troops,” Shining Armor said slowly.  “But, even if we find individuals as they are converted, we may find our army dwindling dangerously rapidly.  Is there magic that could simply block him out or cure ponies that have been possessed?”

“A pony’s natural mental defenses are stronger than anything Luna or I could apply to the whole army, so I don’t think we could magically defend against voluntary possession.  The measures Luna has proposed should be sufficient to prevent involuntary possession.  As for curing an afflicted pony,” Twilight shook her head, “it’s a tricky problem.  Given enough time I might be able to do something, but there is a serious risk of doing permanent mental damage.  Plus, if the pony signed on willingly and Sombra kept his end of the bargain with that utopian illusion they might just sign right back up.”

“So we go with Luna’s plan, put our trust in the fortitude of Equestria’s soldiers.”  Shining Armor laughed.  “Well as their captain I can’t say they don’t deserve that trust.”

“I reckon we’ll be alright,” Applejack put in.  “They’re good folks, they won’t let Equestria down.”

“So, if we have a plan,” Sunlit Rooms said hesitantly, “I should get started.  There’s a lot to do if we want to leave in three – two days.”

“Indeed, I think this meeting has gone on long enough.”  Luna stretched her wings and hooves, long since gone stiff from sitting for so long.

The others, as if just realizing how much time had passed, began to move as well and a little chorus of pops and cracks rang out as they worked the kinks out of tired joints and limbs.  Through the window, the afternoon sun had faded toward evening and it was nigh on time for Luna to set the sun and raise the moon.  Lights had come on inside the room at some point.  Sconces cleverly hidden in the wall had rotated out and dispensed mage-light when the room grew too dim.

“Well, I think that was productive.  We have our plan and our tasks.  If there is nothing else, then this meeting is adjourned,” Luna said, standing up.

“Actually, Luna, I’d like a word with you and Rarity in private after the others have gone.  I have a small thought that might give us an advantage.”

Luna barely suppressed a groan at the thought of more talking, but she knew that Twilight’s thoughts were always worth listening to.  The others looked curiously at them for a moment before Luna dismissed them with a gesture.

“Very well, Twilight and Rarity please stay.  For the rest, make haste.  We leave for Equestria in two days’ time.”
> Arc 3 Chapter 3: The Butterfly Aegis
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Luna surveyed her gathered battalion of pegasi in the prep tent, wondering which ones wouldn’t be coming home today.  The one snapping his ebonite gloves over his hooves as he chatted with his neighbor?  The one in the corner quietly singing a prayer to herself?  Perhaps one or both of the pair with their wings wrapped around one another, sharing a last few quiet words?  Under the wide tent canopy the soldiers performed the thousand and one little pre-battle rituals that helped them believe they had some control over their destinies.  Luna could only hope that some of those superstitions would be proved true.

At least there were no rookies here, not after the six months they’d spent fighting.  There were no ponies shaking with too-wide eyes to haunt Luna’s dreams with guileless accusations.  No, they all knew what battle meant, for all the good that did them.  Luna was humbled by their willingness to fight anyway.

But then, in the past week Luna had often felt humbled and awed by the determination and sheer competence of her subjects.  Thanks largely to the efforts of Twilight and Sunlit Rooms, the army had indeed been able to pack up and depart in two days’ time.  At that point, the traits that had allowed Equestria to become the dominant superpower in a world inhabited by many creatures possessing both greater ferocity and significant natural inclinations and advantages for violence came to the fore.

In the journey north to the Crystal Empire they had ridden on a troop transport train and disembarked at a tiny end of line train station that was only an easy day’s march from the crystal empire.  In this, Luna saw her sister’s hoof.  Celestia must have expected that the empire would return one day and that, when it did, she would want to be able to move a lot of ponies north rapidly.

One of the early actions of the griffons had been to destroy that train station and the tracks that led to it, despite the ponies’ best efforts.  The ability for the ponies to resupply practically at will had been too strong of an advantage for their enemies to countenance.  As such, the army’s plan now was to flee south following the path of the tracks and meet with a troop transport at the next station along the line.

Shining Armor had been correct in his preliminary prediction.  After poring over the maps, Luna had to agree that the Galloping Gorge station was the ideal destination to meet Duke Fancypants’ army.  If events turned against them, they might even be able to retreat by train.

For her part, Luna had not thought they would make it.  She and she alone had seen their enemies, dragons, griffons, and rebel ponies, each with a dark flame of shadow beating in their breast as they rose or ran forth from the crystal city scarcely two days after the ponies themselves had departed.

It seemed inevitable to the princess that Sombra could push his slaves faster than the ponies could run, not to mention the superior number of flyers he possessed.  However, she had not seen an Equestria army on the march, nor the peculiar specialization that lent it a speed no other army in the world could possess.

Rather than divide up the squads by race, each squad in the Equestria army possessed a core of earth pony fighters, pegasi scouts/special forces, and unicorn engineers.  When there was a need to cover great distances quickly, each would play to their strengths.  Pegasi would fly above the army and scout out the optimal path to take, letting the army know days in advance where to cross rivers and how to avoid hills or valleys.  Earth ponies carried supplies and equipment, their greater hardiness allowing them to run for days on end carrying supplies sufficient for the entire squad.  Finally, the unicorns had a special spell, one every single mage was required to learn.  When cast, the rote placed an even flat surface an inch or so above the ground, allowing the army to run at full speed without fear of injury or being bogged down in the terrain.  Essentially, the Equestrian army was never surprised, never under-supplied, and never off-road.

This was aided by the requirements of the pony diet.  Many ponies, Luna included, were known to enjoy a wide variety of foods from cucumber sandwiches to cupcakes.  However, if necessary a pony could march for days on a simple and relatively light mixture of hay and oats.  The griffons, by contrast, had to carry much heavier meat supplies to suit their diets.   Meanwhile the dragons tended to dine on glorified rocks, though they didn’t need to eat as often as the shorter lived races.

All of which was to say, at the end of the third day of travel Luna had been pleased to see that, far from being closed on, they had actually opened up additional distance between themselves and their pursuers.  It was also why she had been unsurprised to see, midway through their fourth day since setting out, a strike force of consisting of four hundred griffons, two hundred pegasi, and twenty dragons, approaching fast by air.

Luna had gathered a troop of pegasi, with unicorn ground support, and planned to lead them herself in a rear guard action.  It would be a bloody affair.  Sombra’s soldiers would likely not retreat or give any thought to self-preservation.  Somehow her soldiers would have to match that fanatical intensity, and far too many of them would lose their lives in the process.  Still, it had to be done.  If Sombra’s soldiers slowed them enough for the entire army to catch up, then they’d be slaughtered through sheer weight of numbers.

Luna’s thoughts were interrupted by her ever-present aide.  “Princess, Rainbow Dash requests a moment of your time.”  Glancing back, Luna saw Sunlit Rooms peeking through the large tent flaps.

“I wondered what was keeping her,” Luna commented.  “She’d better hurry her if she plans to join us in this fight, as I suspect she does.  By all means, send her in.”

Sunlit Rooms nodded and withdrew her head.  A moment later both tent flaps were pulled back and open as widely as they could by Gilda and Thraxus.  Dash flew through the opening, careful not to let her wings touch the sides.  She hovered in front of Luna and snapped a surprisingly crisp salute.

“Princess, request permission to sortie.”

“That is what we’re doing, Rainbow Dash.  You’re welcome to join us,” Luna said.

“No.  Alone.”  Dash’s voice was flat and cold, just as it had been every day since that ill-fated loss.

“Not quiet alone,” Gilda corrected.  She and Thraxus had come to stand on either side of Rainbow Dash, though both maintained a careful distance from the hovering pony.  “But, yeah, don’t send in the whole troop.”

“That’s suicide,” Luna objected.

“Princess, I believe it would be a good idea,” Thraxus said carefully.  Luna focused on the small dragon and what she saw stopped her objection in its tracks.

Thraxus was afraid.  He kept shooting glances at Rainbow Dash and then looking away, clenching his talons.  Almost, he seemed skittish, as if he might bolt at any minute.  Were he the age he looked, his discomfort wouldn’t be that surprising.  But Thraxus was an ancient red dragon.  He had seen empire’s rise and fall, had faced danger in more forms than any pony save Luna could count.

And he was afraid of Rainbow Dash.

An inkling of the danger they were all in bloomed in Luna’s mind.  The smell of ozone began to fill her nostrils as she carefully observed Rainbow Dash.  She noted the still blood-stained ebonite gloves, the care she was taking not to touch the ground, the way her proximity made Luna’s own fur want to stand on end.  It all pointed to one terrifying conclusion.

Biting back the blackest oath she knew, Luna reacted at once.  She cast the strongest shield spell she had around Rainbow Dash, pouring all her strength into its defense against electricity.  Then she grabbed Dash in with telekinesis and practically threw both pony and shield back out of the tent.

Ignoring the yelp from Gilda and the protestations from Thraxus, Luna stomped out of the tent after the pony she’d just tossed.  Dash had borne her sudden exit with admirable aplomb and was calmly flapping in place, watching Luna.

“How long?” Luna demanded.

“Since Pinkie,” Dash answered.

“A week!” Luna shouted.  “Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?  Never mind Sombra, you could have killed us all with a moment’s carelessness.  It’s a miracle we’re all still alive.”

“Is it really that bad?” Gilda asked, having followed Luna back outside.  “Thraxus or I were watching every time she slept to make she didn’t accidentally hit the ground.  Outside of that, what’s the danger?”

Luna rounded on the Griffon.  “What’s the danger?  The danger is that her concentration wavers for an instant and the entire army is vaporized instantly.”  She turned angrily to Thraxus.  “And you.  You clearly understood how catastrophic this could be.  Why in Tartarus didn’t you tell anypony?”

“I chose to fight beside Dash, with all that entails.”  He paused and a rueful note entered his voice.  “I did not anticipate that it would prove so dangerous so soon.”

“What’s going on here?” Shining Armor shouted, trotting up.  “I could hear the yelling from the unicorn tent.”  He blinked when he saw the culprit and subject.  “Princess Luna?  Why are you yelling at Rainbow Dash?”

Luna pointed at Dash’s ebonite gloves.  “She has been gathering electrical power for the past week!”

Shining Armor paled and he immediately snapped his famous shield overtop of the one already surrounding Rainbow Dash.

Wrapped in telekinesis and under two incredibly powerful layers of shields, Dash still looked calm.  “Captain, request permission to sortie.”

Shining Armor rubbed tiredly at his eyes.  “Luna save me from hotshot fliers that don’t think about what they’re doing,” he groaned.

“I am trying to,” Luna growled through gritted teeth.

“I don’t understand what the big deal is,” Gilda put in.  “She’s got a lot of power charged up, she blasts Sombra’s army, happy ending.  What’s the problem?”

“Those gloves are designed to be repeatedly used in combat, so they charge up quickly,” Shining Armor said.  “Properly directed, a few seconds of motion generates enough power to fry a pony.  Even in practice we don’t let anypony charge up for more than a few minutes.  I wouldn’t have thought any pony eve could charge for more than an hour or two without losing focus and letting it all go.”

Gilda was finally starting to understand what all the fuss was about.  “So with a week’s worth of power?”

“If it caught me unprepared, it would kill me and everypony else in this army,” Luna said flatly.  “Even immortals have a tough time living through the total destruction of their body.”

For a moment, a flash of a younger and more carefree Dash shone through.  “It was reckless and dangerous and blah blah blah.  Can I go use it on our enemies now or not?”

Shining Armor glanced toward Luna, who sighed.  “I think we have to let her go,” she said.  “I don’t know of a way to bleed it off and the longer we wait the more likely her focus slips.”

He nodded.  “I can’t believe she’s held it this far.  The skill and sheer willpower that that must have taken is incredible.  Twilight once told me that Dash was as much as master of pegasi magic as she herself was of unicorn magic.  Seeing this, I can believe it.”

Dash, remarkably, did not use that praise as an excuse to crow about her awesomeness.  When Luna had said that she would be permitted to go, her eyes had swung to regard the dark shape in the distance that marked the approaching army.

“Drop the shields,” she said.  “Let me go.”

Shining Armor dropped his shield, but Luna hesitated.  “I should not permit this, Rainbow Dash.  You likely won’t survive.  But I fear I have no choice and our need is great.  Is there anything you want to say?  Any message you’d like us to pass on?”

Dash turned to regard Princess Luna.  “No,” she said with absolute conviction.  “I will be back.  My work isn’t done.”

Luna met the other pony’s eyes, taking her measure.  “Fine.  But I’ve decided that I’m coming with you.  I will witness this for myself.”

“And me,” Gilda put in.  Thraxus nodded as well.

“I can’t hold it back,” Dash said warningly.

“I’ll keep us safe,” Luna said.  “With forewarning and distance it should be alright.”  She turned to Shining Armor.  “Captain, I leave you in command.  Continue readying the pegasi and unicorn forces.  If necessary, you have my permission to sortie after Rainbow Dash is done, but use your best judgement.”

“Yes, Princess.”  He saluted.  “Good luck out there.  Try and bring her home.  She’s an idiot, but there’s a place here for ponies like her.”

Gilda chuckled and even Luna managed a small smile.  “Will do, Captain.  Now step back.”

She lowered her shield and before any of them could blink Rainbow Dash was just gone.  A rainbow contrail led up and curved away toward the approaching army.

Luna leapt into the air and sped after her, Gilda and Thraxus close behind.  Wind whipped through her mane and she felt the blood pound in her veins.  For all that she had not wanted to let Dash go, exhilaration now warred with anxiety in her heart.  This was what she lived for.  Those unique moments when something new was born from the greatest paroxysm of emotion that a living soul was capable of.

“Stay close and watch carefully,” she called to the other two.  “We’ll not see the like again.”

“Who cares about seeing it?” Gilda demanded.  “I just want to make sure my friend is going to be ok.”

“You won’t be able to do that if she inadvertently kills you,” Luna pointed out.  “Hence the command to stay close.”

Thraxus said nothing.  He was lack of familiarity with his newly small wings left him laboring just to keep up.  Luna slowed her flight slightly to compensate.  It wasn’t as though the final moment would be difficult to see.

At last, the three of them reached a point roughly equidistant from their own army and Sombra’s approaching army and stopped.  Rainbow Dash was only a few moments short of contact and protection was needed.  Luna would have liked to use a spell for the added efficiency, but she knew of no shields that she was confident would be sufficient.

Instead, Luna had decided to use free magic to produce the shield so that she could adjust it on the fly as the nature of the danger changed.  She shaped it in her mind, building a curved plane in the air, prioritizing defense against electricity, and anchoring it to the ground to help protect against the shockwave.  The she super charged it, pouring power into it until it grew large and solid like a huge cobalt pane of glass.  On a whim, she layered a magnifying spell overtop of the shield, aided by its lens-like appearance, so that they could make out all the tiny little details.

Eerily identical derisive smirks colored every face of Sombra’s army.  Luna could only suppose that he felt amused at being charged by a single pony, and that he wasn’t shy about letting that emotion show on the face of every one of his thralls.

Dash’s face was simply determined, eyes narrowed in concentration, wings straining to their utmost.  Luna could just make out the cone of air resistance that Rainbow Dash was fighting through.

“She’s not just going to release the energy,” Luna commented in surprise.  “She’s going to do a sonic rainboom at the same time.  Because of course she is.”

“Of course,” Gilda moaned, covering her eyes with her feathers before peeking through them.  “Because nothing is ever enough for her.  Come on Dash, just do it and come home.”

“If she’s going to do it, it better happen soon.  She’s only got a few seconds until impact,” Luna said, though she need not have worried

Rainbow Dash timed everything perfectly.  She breeched the sound barrier and released the energy she had stored in her hooves at the same moment she reached the enemy army’s front line.  Luna felt the impact in her magic first.  Reality itself rippled and twisted under the enormous force and Luna had to hold tight to her magic to prevent it from going haywire.  Then, light, brilliant and blinding blasted outwards.  Her shield turned black and opaque as she poured more and more magic into it, and still the light blazed through it, brighter and more penetrating than even the sun.

Thunder rumbled deep in their bones and Luna rushed to add sound dampening to her shield lest they be shaken apart.  The very ground rocked and trembled while the air whipped as if possessed by the spirit of the tempest.  There was no harbor to be had, no place safe against the fury that had been unleashed.  All Luna could do was send more and more magic into her shield and hope that they could weather the storm behind it.

Last of all came the colors, a riotous shockwave in all the colors of the rainbow.  Luna would never have thought that colors could cause harm, but where they touched her skin sizzled and she could feel wrongness eating into her on all sides.  Luna had no idea what was hurting her or how to shield against it.  Desperately, she pushed at her shield, expanding its purpose by making it as dense and as powerful as she could.  That helped somewhat and the feeling of utter wrongness produced by those colors faded slightly.

Then, quite suddenly, the feeling of the explosion changed.  There was still anger, to be sure, and it was still an expression of utmost rage and loss.  There was something new in it, though.  Perhaps a stillness that beat at its heart.

Looking up, Luna saw that the concentric rings of colors had stopped expanding.  Arcs of electricity played along each of the bands, moving through the colors as though tasting or testing or looking for something.

As Luna watched, the electricity found its goal in the yellow circle.  It wrapped the color in a crackling blanket of power and pulled yellow up out of its place in the rainbow.  Distantly, Luna noticed that portions of red, green, blue, were being wrapped up in their own cocoons of electricity and lifted from their place.

The stolen colors swirled together toward the center of the explosion.  Luna lightened her shield back to transparent so that they could see what was going on.  Squinting against the glare, Luna could just make out the shadow of a pegasus with her wings spread wide and one hoof upraised in defiance of the heavens themselves.

Alighting on that hoof, the orb of stolen colors paused for just a moment.  Then they rocketed upwards, high above the explosion and into the untroubled blue sky.  Slowly they began to flow and run, combining and separating in new ways.  A creamy yellow rectangle of impossible size stretched wide against the blue background of the true sky.  Within, three figures began to form, butterflies of pale pink and light green.

Rainbow Dash had indelibly emblazoned Fluttershy’s cutie mark on the very fabric of the sky.

Luna knew immediately that no power could ever wipe that mark away.  There were some few other places like that, where a unique conflux of magic and circumstance had conspired to leave a mark on the world.  A glass coffin, deep in the San Palomino desert.  A ship with no crew and black oars that could be seen pulling against the current on certain misty nights.  A thin chain etched with the heads of hounds stretching across the badlands in Equestria’s south.

No pony, not even an immortal, could number the anomalies or know all the stories of their births.  It seemed sad, though, that that memorial to Fluttershy would wave alone over the barren landscape of the frozen north until the stars fell from the sky.  Still, Luna suspected that, if they should win the day against Sombra, other ponies would return to this spot, drawn by a magic they didn’t fully understand to make their homes in an aura of kindness under the aegis of the butterfly.

Luna was glad to have seen the birth of this one anomaly, and gladder still that Rainbow Dash had managed to survive the terrible strains of the power she’d release.  However, even as she thought that, her eyes dropped to the still shadowed figure of Rainbow Dash and she saw her wings fold as the pegasus dropped from the sky.

“No!” Gilda cried and leapt forward.  Luna grabbed the griffon in her magic and hauled her back.

“You can’t,” she cried urgently.  “The colors remain and you’d die to them before you could reach her.”

There was a flash of color from her other side and before she could react Thraxus had darted forward and through her shield.  His wings pumped hard as the light glinted off of his scales.

Luna paused just before her telekinesis could grab Thraxus and pull him back as well.  The legendary resistance of the dragons might be enough to endure the poisonous touch of the colors, and if it was he might be able to reach Rainbow Dash in time.

Meanwhile, she needed to do something about those blasted colors so she could help her subject.  Luna glared out to where the rings of brilliant color, minus the stolen few, still shimmered in the air around them.  She reached out with her magic and pushed.

Electricity crackled and Luna felt the lightning that had trawled the rainbow push back against her, stubbornly keeping the colors right where they were.  Growling, she redoubled her efforts, striking at that power itself.  No mindless electricity would deny her.  With a sharp crack her efforts were finally rewarded.

The electric potential that had hung heavy in the air dissipated and Luna’s fur lay flat for the first time since Rainbow Dash had requested permission to sortie.  Without that power to hold them back the rings resumed their outward spread, quickly dissipating into the ether.

At once, Luna shot forward, hoping against hope that there would be somepony to save.  As the light cleared from her eyes she saw two shapes heading toward the ground at dangerously fast speeds.  She reached out with her telekinesis, trying desperately to get a hold of the falling figures.  Thraxus’ resistance worked against them as they slipped through her grasp time and time again.

Luna dove toward the ground, putting every ounce of energy she had into closing the gap.  She knew if she were just closer she could lift them both without a problem.  The question was whether she could get close enough before that fatal impact.

Abruptly, Luna realized the obvious solution to the problem.  Cursing herself for a fool, Luna fired off a line of sight teleport.  She materialized right next to Thraxus as he struggled mightily to lift Rainbow Dash and himself with his small wings.  At once, she wrapped the both of them in her magic and lifted until they were back at a safe height.

Gilda caught up to them as they rose and immediately wrapped her talons around Rainbow Dash.  Luna and Thraxus relinquished their holds and let the griffon bear the weight of her friend as they all panted for air.

“My strength was not enough,” Thraxus murmured to himself, staring at his claws.  “I had forgotten what it meant to be weak.  You’ve given me another gift I never asked for, Fluttershy.”

“Dash!  Hey, Dash!  You better not be dying on me.”  Gilda glared down at the still form in her talons.

Dash’s eyes were open, but glazed as she stared up at the mark she had imprinted on the sky.  “Another tribute you’d hate, Fluttershy.  You never did want ponies looking at you,” she whispered.  Then her eyes closed and she slumped limply into Gilda.

“Dash!” Gilda cried in alarm.

Luna sent her magic questing through that small form and sighed in relief.  “She’s just unconscious.  No telling how she’ll be, but I think she’s stable enough to make it back to camp.”

Gilda was still gazing forlornly down at Dash.

“You care for her deeply,” Luna said gently.

“She’s all I have,” Gilda said, her voice empty and lost.  “Sombra’s control or not, I have committed the unforgivable crime of fighting against griffons.  I have no family, no home, and no flock.  All I have is her, and she,” Gilda shrugged at their surroundings, “she does things like this.”

“However it came about, she is lucky to have a friend like you.  Both of you,” she added glancing over at Thraxus.  “Between the two of you, you might just be able to keep her alive.”

“I was not equal to that task,” Thraxus said, still staring at his claws.  “If you had not caught us we would have both died on the ground below.”

Luna nodded.  “That is true.  But even though it could have killed you, you didn’t let her go.  And it was that willingness to sacrifice for your friend that allowed me to save you both.  It was very much something Fluttershy would have done.”

An expression of surprise crossed Thraxus’ face and he glanced over to Rainbow Dash.  His eyes rose to meet Gilda’s and the two shared a silent understanding.  Luna watched them both and smiled.

She turned and gestured back toward her army.  “Come on, we need to let Captain Shining Armor know that he can stand down and get Rainbow Dash medical attention.”  She gave a mischievous smile.  “Besides, the sooner Rainbow Dash wakes up, the sooner she’ll hear that I’ve named her Stormlord, and I’m sure we’re all looking forward to her boasting for that.”


***


Several days and more than a hundred miles later, Luna could still see the Butterfly Aegis.  It was a yellow and pink gleam in the distance as she made her daily flight over the troops, checking for signs of Sombra’s taint.  Many of the troops that saw her fly over raised their hooves in salute, and Luna made sure to return each and every one.  At the very least her flight overhead could serve as much needed morale boost.  A week of running had put everypony on edge, even if things had been quiet since Rainbow’s dramatic defense.  They continued to run and Sombra continued to pursue, though he seemed content to maintain a distance of a day or two between the armies.

Completing her flight over the army, Luna shook her head and allowed her immortal sight to fade away.  She adjusted the angle of her wings and closed her eyes, taking a moment to glide in circles and simply enjoy the feeling of the wind in her mane.  As the leader of an army on the march, she had to steal such moments where she could find them.

Sighing, Luna let the moment pass and allowed herself to glide down to a landing in front of her command tent.  She trotted inside, her dark mood slightly lifting at Sunlit Rooms’ enthusiastic greeting.

“Welcome back, princess!” Sunlit Rooms chimed from her desk by the entrance.  “Find any today?”

“Not a one,” Luna replied, navigating around the army-standard table and map at the center of the room and throwing herself into the well cushioned command chair on the far side.  “I’m beginning to worry.  As proud as I am of my troops, I can’t believe that there isn’t even one pony in the bunch willing to take Sombra at his word.”

Sunlit Rooms set aside the endless pile of paperwork that kept the army running and trotted to the side of the room to put the kettle on.  “So what do you think is going on?”

Luna leaned back and pressed a hoof against her eyes.  “Either Sombra can now corrupt ponies without leaving a trace I can see, in which case we’re doomed and don’t even know it yet, or his attention is focused elsewhere.”

The kettle whistled in the background.  Sunlit quickly filled a cup and offered it to Luna, who smiled up at the pegasus.  “Thanks Sunlit.  The question I keep coming back to is this: what would be drawing his attention away from us?”

“Maybe he needs to focus on that wellspring of magic to fully control it?” Sunlit hazarded.

“Hvergelmir?  Maybe.  I can’t help feeling like if that was the only other thing on his plate we’d be receiving of more of his focus though.”  Luna shook her head.  “Putting that aside for a moment, are there any updates on our situation?”

“Yes, actually.”  Sunlit walked back to her desk and shuffled the papers around before coming up with a specific one.  “Here it is!  Duke Fancypants has reported in.  He wanted to register his uncertainty about the wisdom of discarding everything else to bring all our troops up north.”  Luna looked up, about to object to the Duke, but Sunlight continued reading.  “However, he acknowledges your command and is readying the troops.  It took longer than we might have wanted for them to get moving but they still have the trains so they should beat us to Galloping Gorge anyway.”

Luna snorted.  “It’s good that somepony knows his place, and I’m glad they’ll be there in time.  What about our army?”

“Ah, one second.”  After more shuffling of paper, Sunlit found the next file she was looking for.  “I don’t fully understand military matters, but according to Captain Shining Armor we’re doing fine.  Aside from, ahem, the little issue of being pursued by an army that horribly outnumbers us.  Worst case scenario, he says, we could keep this pace up for a month, if not easily.”

“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” Luna commented.  “And you?  How’s my favorite assistant doing?”

Sunlit harrumphed.  “Honestly princess I’m overworked.  I’m not afraid of long hours but there’s only so much I can do before things start to fall through the cracks, which I’m not sure we can afford.  I’d have thought Twilight or Rarity would be helping, but Twilight has been holed up with Pinkie and Rarity seems to have up and vanished.”

“They’re both a little busy,” Luna said, wincing.  “I’m sorry for not realizing how much pressure that would place on you.  I’ll see if Shining Armor has any army staff he can lend to take some of the work from you.”

“Thanks Princess.  I don’t mean to complain, but I’d never forgive myself if something went wrong because of a mistake I made,” Sunlit said gratefully.

“Don’t mention it,” Luna replied, waving away the thanks.  “You shouldn’t have to run a whole army’s bureaucracy on your own.”  She gave a conspiratorial smile.  “We leave that to crazy ponies like Twilight.  Speaking of which.”  Luna stood up and stretched her wings.  “I need to check in with her as well.”

Sunlit Rooms nodded.  “I should get back to work as well.  Future assistant or no, there’s still a lot to be done.  Take care princess.”

“And you as well,” Luna said, leaving Sunlit to her work.


***


As the only pony known to be under Sombra’s control in the camp, the security around Pinkie Pie was exceedingly tight.  During the day she was confined in a sealed palanquin carried by a team of four earth ponies.  It turned out that some old law required that if the royal guard was traveling with a princess, they had to have a palanquin on hoof so that she could receive foreign dignitaries in style should the need arise.  Sure enough, Barrel the quartermaster had found one buried deep in the storage crates and it had been magically altered to be secure before the army had departed.

After the army stopped for the evening Pinkie was placed in a magically and hermetically sealed tent.  Both the palanquin and the tent were covered with a suite of wards and two rings of guards comprised of a mix of the pony races stood guard, or ran guard when the army was on the move.  No visitors except for Twilight and Luna were permitted to enter either the tent or the palanquin, and even they were required to stop and give the correct passphrases to each ring of guards.

“An incredulity of cuckoos,” Luna intoned perhaps more seriously than the passphrase warranted.  The mint green unicorn guard didn’t even crack a smile.  She just nodded and stood aside to allow the princess to pass.  Moving forward, Luna shivered as the tingle of the wards passed over her.  She ducked through the tent flap and saw a slight glow as it resealed itself behind her.

The inside of the tent was itself subdivided.  On the far side from the entrance was Pinkie’s “cell”, though the sheer number of pillows and sweets present kept it from seeming too harsh.  In the middle stood a grid pattern of magical energy preventing anything other than sound from leaving the area in which Pinkie was contained.  Twilight had been willing to try and develop a set of wards and barriers while she was rushing around trying to get the army moving but, fortunately, it hadn’t proved necessary.  The royal guard had a standard set of spells for imprisonment and after a quick examination Twilight had pronounced them sufficient.

Nearest to Luna was the section of the room dedicated to Twilight’s examination of Pinkie.  Gems of all colors, shapes, and sizes floated in the air emitting various beams of light.  Every now and again Twilight would get up from her small writing table and make a minute adjustment to one of the gems producing an equally minute variation in the light before humming to herself and hurrying back to the table to scribble down more notes.

“Twilight,” Luna said, only to be ignored as Twilight kept writing.  “Twilight Sparkle!” she repeated, loud enough to make the smaller pony jump.

“Oh, Princess!  I’m sorry. I must not have heard you arrive.  What can I do for you?”

“I came to check in,” Luna said.  “How is Pinkie?”

Twilight gestured helplessly to the other side of the tent where Pinkie, her mane flat and her eyes lifeless, lay back against a cushion staring at nothing.  “As you see her.  Sombra has asserted himself once or twice, but he doesn’t usually stay for long.”

“I wonder if he doesn’t want us to know the extent of his control,” Luna mused.  She moved up to the magical barrier.  “Pinkie, or Sombra, can you hear me?”

Pinkie’s eyes focused but Luna was disheartened to see that a shadow darkened those blue orbs.  Sure enough, Pinkie’s mouth yawned wide and it was not her voice that emerged.

“Hello, princess.  Have you come to accept my offer?” came the deep smooth voice of Sombra.

“Which offer is that?” Luna asked derisively.  “To live under your control in a lotus filled stupor?  Or the offer you made back under the crystal spire where you take my immortality leave me to a natural death?  Because, to be honest, neither really appeals.”

Sombra chuckled.  “You are more confident now than you were then.  Still, the doubts that plague you will return, sooner or later.  The Nightmare casts a long shadow, as you well know.  Only under my care will you be free from that burden forever more.”

Only a supreme act of self-control allowed Luna to keep herself from flinching at what might well have been an oblique reference to her gallery of inaccurate self-portraits.  But it couldn’t have been.  There was no possible way for Sombra to know about that specifically, and any foal could have guessed that the Nightmare still haunted her.

“You’re wrong,” she said aloud.  “Twilight will find a way to excise you from Pinkie, and when the time is right my army will destroy yours and we will come for you.”

“So you’ve said.”  Disinterest colored Sombra’s tone.  “Well, Luna, if you’re not going to do more than spit the same tired defiance you have each time before, then I’ll be off.

“Actually there is something else,” Luna interrupted.  “I want to know why.”

“Why what?”

“Why this, why all of this?” Luna asked, spreading her wings wide as if to encompass the whole conflict.

“You are a thousand years late in asking that question,” Sombra commented wryly.

“There wasn’t time or opportunity one thousand years ago.  You have to admit this is a somewhat unique situation.  It’s not often that the leaders of opposing sides can speak at length without fearing for their lives.”  Luna made to sit on the ground, trying desperately to maintain the cavalier mien with which she had been speaking as she felt the full weight of his cold regard.  “Who knows?  Perhaps you’ll convince me and I’ll give in to you here and now.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Princess?” Twilight asked from her table.  “We know he’s rather skilled at telling ponies precisely what they want to hear.”

“Such timidity,” Sombra mocked.  “I thought you had more curiosity than that, Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight sniffed disdainfully.  “I know everything I need to know about you, you brute.”

“Twilight!” Luna snapped.  “Be careful what you say.”

“Careful indeed,” Sombra laughed.  “Please ladies, don’t fight over me.”

“As if!” Twilight retorted, though she fell silent at Luna’s warning glare.

“But you asked why, Luna” he said, sobering and placing his attention squarely on her.  “And the answer is simply this: no other course of action affords me as much freedom as that of conquest.  With this, I shall never die and I can indulge my every whim or curiosity.  I alone know what it is like to die.  Most recently, I learned what it was to be ripped apart in the center of a storm of light and electricity and magic, six hundred and twenty times over.  That was unpleasant, to be sure, but now I have that knowledge that no one else in the world possesses.  You cannot imagine the satisfaction I feel from that, though perhaps Twilight Sparkle can.  I will have the time and the resources to plumb the depths of every mystery, to answer every question, to master this world more truly and completely than any being ever has.  You asked why I seek to rule the world.  I ask why any being would seek otherwise.”

“And how do other ponies play into that?” Luna asked sharply.  “Where does love, or friendship, or the warmth of belonging enter into your world?  Will you do away with all the ephemeral feelings that impart meaning to life?”

“Where do those feelings enter into your life?” he asked simply.  “When, in the last thousand years have you known love, or friendship, or warmth?”

“I-“ Luna began, only to be interrupted.

“But say you are right,” he continued.  “Say I begin to long for the fellowship of other creatures.  Perhaps I will.  I offered Twilight Sparkle a chance to stand next to me as ruler of the real world, after all.  Over time, I may even gather other such worthy beings to me and give them the power to rule as well.  Imagine that, a small coterie of incredibly powerful creatures ruling over their fiefdoms and playing out games across the centuries with the lives of the less powerful as their pieces.  All to stave off the boredom of immortality.  What might that world look like, Princess Luna?”

Luna’s mouth went dry as she began to understand what Sombra was implying.  “That- that can’t possibly be true.  I am an immortal.  I would know if the world was the product of some game.”

“Would you?”  Sombra’s voice dripped with saccharine compassion.  “Is it so impossible that after centuries one of the immortals might want to raise up another of their kind, for that companionship you spoke so highly of mere moments ago?  Poor Luna.  Forever the youngest of the immortals because the experiment of her existence culminated with a thousand-year banishment.  No other immortal dared risk such a failure.”

“Celestia could not have lied to me so thoroughly for so long.  I won’t believe it!” Luna snapped back.  Her rising emotion caused her magic to flare and the magic grid sizzled in response, peppering Pinkie’s unflinching muzzle with burning flecks.

Sombra spoke in an odd lilting cadence, as if reciting something he had memorized long ago.  “I have delved into the deepest corners of the world looking for the oldest secrets.  I have pieced together stories passed from elder to foal since time out of mind and spoken only by firelight in the depths of winter.  I have followed tracks laid down by long-lost species in a desperate attempt to gift the story of themselves to those that would come after.  And having done so, the best that I can say is, it may be.  There is evidence that the world is not as it once was, and that is sufficient justification for my effort to change it once more.”

“That’s it?  That’s your justification for all this?  Because maybe somepony did it before?  You really are a monster,” Luna said frankly.  “If I had had any compunctions about the punishment my sister and I meted out a thousand years ago, or the punishment that I am going to deliver when you lie beaten at my hooves, they would have been put to rest by this conversation.”

Sombra chuckled again, finding amusement in her derision.  “Perhaps.  But Twilight understands, don’t you Twilight Sparkle?  How can you not want to play in a laboratory the size of the world?”

Twilight, who had been remaining very still in apparent hope that they would forget that she was there, flinched back against the wall of the tent.  “I-I don’t-“

“She is nothing like you,” Luna broke in, saving Twilight the need to respond.  “Not in the ways that matter.  When we first met I was afraid because in her potential she reminded me of you.  Now, after seeing what she has done, I look at you and am saddened because you had the potential to be like her.”

Luna stood and resolutely turned her back on Sombra in Pinkie’s body.  “Come Twilight, we need not waste any more time on him today.”

As Twilight scurried behind her, Sombra called after them.  “I so enjoyed our chat, princess.  Feel free to come back any time.  After all, argument is a luxury I’ll soon have lost.”

Luna exhaled and shook herself as she left the tent, trying to put away the troubled feelings Sombra had engendered in her.  Twilight trotted in her wake until Luna glanced back and indicated with a gestured wing that the other pony should walk beside her.  Even as she did so, an uncharacteristic expression of fear still darkened Twilight’s face.

“Twilight Sparkle would not be so afraid of Sombra, and even if she were she would not let it show,” Luna murmured to Twilight.

“Yes, you’re right of course, princess.”  With a visible effort, Twilight schooled her features to impassivity.

“Better,” Luna said, nodding.  “How is it going in there?  You have an important task after all.”

“Honestly, it’s hard to say.  I can’t even always tell when Sombra is present.”  She sighed.  “This is hardly a role I ever thought I’d have to play.”

“It might just be our best chance though.”  Luna broke off to smile and nod to a passing pair of earth ponies who had waved to her, and her eyes lingered on the broaches they both wore in the shape of the Butterfly Aegis.  “I have seen a number of ponies with that sign recently,” she said to Twilight, indicating the broaches.

“After Dash’s defense and the appearance of the Butterfly Aegis, I had a great many ponies asking me about it.  I had to come up with a number of different ways to display it since we didn’t have enough materials for everypony to wear the same type.”  Twilight shook her head.  “I must admit that I’m not quite sure why they’ve taken to wearing it.”

“Superstition, I suspect,” Luna said.  “Soldiers are a superstitious lot.  Between the stories about Fluttershy when she was alive, and Rainbow Dash defeating an attack without a single loss of life while creating that mark, it’s no wonder they’ve adopted it.”

Twilight snorted.  “I suppose that’s true, but it’s going to feed Rainbow Dash’s already inflated ego.  Though I suppose these days that wouldn’t be as bad as it once would have been.”

“How is Rainbow Dash doing anyway?” Luna asked.  “I’ve not had a chance to look in on her.”

Twilight hesitated, letting her eyes run across the bustling activity of the camp as they entered the area where the living tents were set up.  “She’s doing better, I think.  Her eyes aren’t quite as empty as they were, and Gilda and Thraxus have done her a world of good.”

“But?” Luna prompted, and Twilight sighed.

“But her wings are still wrapped and the nurses say that they don’t know if or when she’ll be able to fly again.”  A bitter ghost of a smile crossed Twilight’s face.  “And aside from when she came to me to brag that by earning the title 'Stormlord' she finally had a title equal to ‘Archmage’, she hasn’t shown any of her usual energy.”

“Give her time,” Luna recommended.  “Time for her wings or her heart to heal.  Maybe something can be done for her after Sombra is defeated.”

“I certainly hope so,” Twilight agreed fervently.  “It’s been dreadful having his army chasing after us day in and day out

Luna nodded in agreement.  “I wanted to talk to you about that, actually.  Something is bothering me about our flight.  As unpleasant as its been to have his army hanging over our heads, the flight itself has been too easy so far.  It doesn’t make sense that Sombra has only made that one attempt to stop us.  He has plenty of troops, why hasn’t he been throwing them at us over and over again?”

Twilight held up a hoof to stop her.  “Princess, I have spent the past week locked up with either Sombra or Pinkie Pie’s mindless body, both of whom are exceedingly stressful to spend time around.  I’ll leave larger matters like Sombra’s machinations for you to worry about.”

Luna blinked.  “Are you sure?”

“Quite sure,” Twilight said primly.

“Ah, yes.”  Luna nodded.  “My apologies, I had forgotten.”  Silence fell between the two ponies as they stood, waiting for a supply wagon to be moved out of their path.  The shouting of orders mixed with curses filled the air, though the curses were truncated amusingly quickly whenever the foul mouthed ponies caught sight of who was waiting.

After a moment, Luna idly remarked, “Ponies have been asking after Rarity.”

“I should hope so.”  Twilight tossed her mane.  “She is, after all, a fabulous pony.”

“No doubt,” agreed Luna, smiling slightly.

Twilight shot a sidelong glance at Luna.  “I don’t suppose we could let a few of our closest friends know what’s going on with her?”

The princess shook her head.  “No.  That particular plan might well end up being our last hope.  If it’s revealed too early she would be in a lot of danger and the plan would almost certainly fail.”

“Of course, it’s just–”

“Twilight, there you are!” came a shout from behind them.  Shining Armor cantered up to the mares as Twilight shot Luna a panicked look.  “We haven’t had a chance to finish our conversation.”

“Captain Armor, please, walk with us,” Luna broke in, as the cart finally cleared from their path.

Catching himself, Shining Armor saluted the princess and fell into step beside them.  “Of course, princess, my apologies for my haste.  I had hoped to have a conversation with Twilight here.”

“By all means, continue,” Luna said mildly.

Shining Armor hesitated.  “It’s that conversation from the hospital.  It’s something of a personal matter.”

“I’m afraid I don’t think now is the best time for a personal conversation,” Twilight said.  “You must be so busy with the army and I have my hooves full with my research on Pinkie Pie and Sombra.  Surely it would be better to wait until this is all over before sitting down for a nice chat?”

“I don’t want to risk one of us dying before this is settled,” Shining Armor protested, his voice rising.  “In case you hadn’t noticed that is an imminent possibility.”

The three ponies stopped and Twilight faced the captain head on.  “Look, Shining Armor, this is a personal matter and neither of us is in a good place to have this out.  I promise you that you would regret settling this now, and I myself am in no position to hash it out either.  Now, we have reached my tent so I bid you good day.”

With that, Twilight turned on her hoof and strode into her tent without a backwards glance.  Luna’s gaze lingered on the flaps until she saw the tell-tale glow and felt the wards, similar to but less confining than those around Pinkie Pie, spring into being.

Luna shifted her attention to captain Armor who appeared momentarily dumbstruck.  “Twilight’s right you know,” she said gently.  “I too can guarantee that waiting would be best.  This is not the time or the place to cloud one’s mind with external matters.”

Shining sighed heavily.  “I’ve waited most of my life.  I suppose I can wait a bit longer, assuming neither of us manages to get ourselves killed.”  He turned to go.  “If that is all then, by your leave, princess.”

“Ah, one more thing before you go,” Luna said. “Sunlit Rooms has requested some aid in managing the army paperwork.  Are there any general staff you could spare to help her out?”

He blinked in surprise, then chuckled.  “You mean she’s been doing it alone all this time?  That’s crazy.  It sounds like something,” he paused, face falling as he glanced at the tent next to them, “sounds like something Twilight would do.”

Luna was about to encourage him again, fearful that a distracted captain was something the army could ill-afford.  However, Captain Shining Armor knew his business.  With a shake he visibly put aside his personal concerns.  Luna could practically see him putting on the mask of professional solider, and when he spoke it was in a deeper and more collected voice.

“I will send over two of our general staff secretaries.  Have Sunlit Rooms let me know if she needs any more.

“Will do, Captain.”

“Princess.”  Shining Armor saluted before turning and marching away.  Luna could only hope that he had been as effective at partitioning away his concerns as he had appeared to be.  She had a feeling that Sombra would test them all to their limits before too long.
> Arc 3 Chapter 4: Nightmares and Dreaming
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two days after her conversation with Sombra Luna could see that the fast pace she’d set had begun to wear on her troops.  Armor was less polished, coats dustier.  There was a weariness in every step that a single night’s sleep couldn’t cure.  Salutes came without the same snap.  No pony was close to breaking yet, the royal guard was made of sterner stuff than that, but the week of high speed travel was taking its toll.

Truth be told, Luna had begun to feel it too.  Not physical exhaustion, that was some ways off yet for the alicorn, but a kind of psychic strain.  Ponies, at their core, were a prey species.  Though they had evolved over the millennia, there was still a part of their hindbrain that writhed in terror at the constant pursuit by beings with sharp teeth and claws.  At least the fear just made it easier for the herd to run together.

Fortunately, as they made camp on the evening of the seventh day after setting out from the city, they were only one more hard day’s march from Galloping Gorge.  According to the latest updates Luna had received, their reinforcements had arrived first and were now waiting for them there.  There was nothing quite as reassuring as galloping straight into the waiting hooves of an army five times the size of the one that pursued them.  With that numerical advantage and Luna’s magical support it would be a straightforward, if bloody, battle to win.

Sombra’s army was still two days’ march behind them, so they would likely have a day or two to rest and prepare.  Then would come the final battle.  Possibly.  Maybe Sombra would simply turn his army around when he realized the size of the newly fortified pony army.

A part of Luna hoped that that would be the case.  She knew they would need to face Sombra eventually, but her instincts told her that the time was not yet right.  As she flew high above the army to conduct her daily inspection for Sombra’s taint, she indulged in a fantasy that, upon seeing the reinforcements, Sombra promptly surrendered and everything was resolved without any further loss of life.

Luna smiled to herself and indulged in that pleasant fantasy.  Maybe after that her sister would magically return and be so impressed with the job Luna had done that she’d actually continue the co-ruler arrangement in fact as well as in name.  And while she was wishing for the impossible why not wish that the Nightmare had never consumed her in the first place?

That last addition was a bridge too far, and Luna felt her suspension of disbelief wane and the fantasy fade.  It had been a nice thought, but her worries were not so easily dismissed.

Her eyes raked the ground again, searching for any sign of Sombra in her army, and not finding it.  The knot of anxiety caused by that absence had been what she’d hoped the fantasy would distract her from.  She loved her ponies as much as the next princess, but she knew there had to be flawed ponies among her army.  There had to be some pony down there who would give in to Sombra.

Either she could simply not find those ponies that had given in or Sombra had not tempted them, and both possibilities frightened her.  The first possibility seemed unlikely.  They had tested it and she could easily see Sombra’s taint on Pinkie Pie.  She could even see his dark magic infecting the strains of natural magic the filled the landscape below, presumably something to do with his control of Hvergelmir.  No, she had no trouble seeing his darkness.

So if Sombra was not seeking to possess her army, what was he doing?  Luna growled as she came to the end of her flight, once more having found nothing.  She banked sharply and circled back above her army.  Having no idea what Sombra was doing pricked at her worse than the pursuing army did.  She was sure he was not idle, and that when she learned what he’d been doing it would be bad news.

On a whim, Luna decided to fly up high enough that she’d be able to see their destination for the next day.  It would be too far to make out many details but it’d do her heart good to see for herself that the reinforcements really were waiting for them.  Maybe seeing the full might of the Equestrian army would set her mind at ease.

With a powerful downward thrust, she shot up into the thinning air.  The wind rushed past, ruffling her feathers while the cool clear air filled her lungs.  It brought peace like a compress against a heated brow.  Flying always provided her with solace in troubled times.  She liked to imagine that her troubles themselves were earthbound and that she was leaving them behind with every flap of her mighty wings.

Up she flew, thousands of feet higher than she’d gone in recent memory.  The sunset’s rays colored the scattered clouds a deep red and purple that, at first glance, enthralled in their brilliance.  It was beautiful.  She might set the sun and organize the stars, but the sunset was a natural result of the sun’s motion across the sky.  Luna could enjoy its beauty solely as an audience, and she intended to do so until the last possible moment before setting the sun.

So she intended.  But as she gazed out on the colorful clouds, the deep reds and purples became the scarlet blood and purple bruises of the battlefield.  Luna sighed and closed her eyes, gorge rising as memories of battles ancient and recent forced their way into her mind.  No solace was to be permitted her here, it seemed.

The peace of the sunset soundly banished, Luna turned instead toward Galloping Gorge, seeking comfort in the sight of other ponies.  She saw, as she had expected, the faint signs of a pony encampment.  Vague blobs moved here and there, no doubt going about the basic tasks that kept the camp running.  It was the very picture of an ordinary pony camp and, had she been looking with ordinary sight she would have been suitably reassured.  However, Luna had not yet removed her immortal sight, and with that sight the truth was plain.

A vast wave of Sombra’s dark taint covered the pony camp on the horizon for as far as her eyes could see.

Luna’s sinking heart was matched by her rising understanding.  This was the reason Sombra had been content to keep his distance, the reason he had made no attempt to turn the members of her army.  He had claimed their reinforcements.  If they had continued their march they would have been welcomed into the army and then all would have been turned or killed.  Luna shivered at how close they had come to utter ruin, saved only by a moment of serendipity.

Not that their current situation was much better.  By claiming their reinforcements Sombra had demonstrated a terrifying fact.  His reach and speed of possession exceeded their speed of travel.  There was no safe harbor imaginable any more.  Everywhere they turned they’d find Sombra waiting for them.  It was as if he’d claimed the entire world as his demesne and all of creation now moved to his will.

In effect, the last force in the world capable of opposing Sombra were those ponies in the small tired band that camped below.

Rigid tension filled her muscles and Luna felt herself begin to shake.  She couldn’t have said whether it was from fury or fear.  A snarl contorted her muzzle as a scream forced its way from her throat.  She threw back her head and howled against the sky.  With a snap of her wings a hurricane gust stormed in all directions.  Lurid bolts of magic flew from her horn and skewered the clouds foolish enough to remain nearby.  The Princess of the Night raged against an uncaring sky.

“HOW FAR WILL WE BE TESTED?” she roared.

“I couldn’t say.  But I do think it’s time we had a little chat,” came a voice, silken, seductive and achingly, intimately, terrifyingly familiar.

“No!  No it can’t be,” Luna cried, fear overpowering anger.  She wrapped wings and hooves in on herself, flinching from those few words.  She was curled so tight and still that she would have dropped from the sky had her instinctive pegasus magic not sustained her flight.  “You’re gone.  Banished by the Elements of Harmony.  Nightmare Moon no longer exists!”

“And yet, here I am.  Now, you’re no good to me as a trembling wreck, so take a moment and calm yourself.  Here in your mind we’ve all the time in the world.”  The voice came from nowhere and echoed within Luna’s head.  She clamped her hooves over her ears, but nothing could block out words that were not being spoken aloud.

Nightmare Moon continued, “I’ve been trying to teach you for a while and those self-portraits simply weren’t getting the job done fast enough.”  Luna had the distinctly unpleasant sensation of a part of her mind rolling its metaphorical eyes.  “Stop with the hooves, you know it’s not going to work,” Nightmare Moon scolded her.

Hesitantly, Luna lowered her hooves.  “Why arise now you monster?” she asked.  “We are in dire straits as it is, without adding another dark force to the mix.”

“This situation is precisely why I’ve been forced to be more direct.  Take another look at that.”  Luna felt her focus being pushed back toward the southern horizon.  The wave of Sombra’s magic was still dark and unmistakable to her immortal sight.  “You need me to have a prayer against that.”

“Oh, is this the part where I make a deal with the devil?  Where I sacrifice my autonomy for great and terrible power?” Luna asked sarcastically.  “No thanks. There’s no way your help makes anything any better.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a futile last stand to plan.”

“Luna, you don’t think I’m some external force, do you?”  The Nightmare sounded exasperated, almost fondly so.  “You know better than that.  I’m not some infection that corrupted you, nor am I an evil split personality trying to take control of our body.  I’m just… let’s say a little piece of yourself you’ve been ignoring for too long.”

Luna had made to dive back to the ground, but at Nightmare’s words she hesitated.  “If that’s the case, then why am I hearing your voice as if you’re an entirely separate pony?”

“Think, Luna,” Nightmare urged.  “What originally gave rise to me?  What gave you a taste of power, let you play out your fantasies of rule as an entirely new pony that had never known the disregard of those sun-loving fools?”

“The Dreaming.” Luna answered.  “I dreamed myself in charge and made you when I couldn’t make myself fit in that fantasy.  Then, when dreams weren’t enough, I brought you to the real world.”

“More than that,” Nightmare Moon pressed.  “You are Princess of the Night and at the heart of night is the Dreaming.  For too long have you denied your core out of fear of me, and because of that you have been pushed around by your inferiors.”

“Yes, I see now.  I open myself to the Dreaming and find you back in charge.”  Luna snorted.  “It’s exactly as I said a moment ago, you’re just pouncing on a moment of weakness.”

“I’m not real!” the Nightmare shouted in Luna’s head.  “I’m just a daydream given a momentary glimpse of life by the magic you are denying.  Take it back up and I’ll burn away, like mist before the sun.”  She sighed regretfully.  “And even if I were real, surely I would be less inimical to the world than Sombra’s infinite slavery?  I want to beat him.  With every insubstantial fiber of my being I want him broken for what he’s done.  You must, at the very least, be able to believe that no part of you wants him to win”

Put that way, it was almost believable.  Everything Luna remembered of being Nightmare Moon suggested that she would hate to share power with a pony she viewed as beneath her.  “I’m not saying I believe you,” Luna hedged, “but if I were to do as you say how would that help against Sombra?”

“You must have realized that, with Sombra’s commandeering of your reinforcements, this isn’t going to be won by armies.  We’re horribly outnumbered and after he takes us and gains full control of Hvergelmir even a joint defense by all the other immortals would not be a guaranteed success.”  Luna nodded along for that had become all too clear.  “So we flee, for the moment, and deny him the troops he’ll gain from our defeat and our own self.”

“We flee to the Dreaming,” Luna said with sudden understanding.  “That would place us beyond his reach and provide time for us to develop other plans.  But the army makes that impossible.  That many minds in the Dreaming would produce chaos, even if I had the strength to bring them all there.”

“You will have the strength, if only you stop fleeing from it.  The Dreaming is the heart of your power after all,” said Nightmare, sounding satisfied.  “You are right about the destruction that that many minds would cause if they were all in the dreaming at once.  If only there was a state that you could put them in that was compatible with the Dreaming and would keep their minds and bodies quiescent.  Ideally such a state would be a natural function of every living creature so it wouldn’t take much to place them in it or keep them that way.”  Luna distinctly felt her mind casting a sideways glance at her.  “Are you getting this, Luna?  Or do I need to be more obvious? I’d paint you a picture, but, as we all know, there’s no guarantee that that would work.”

Luna rolled her eyes.  “I get it, I get it.  I can put most of the soldiers into a deep sleep.  The Dreaming should be able to support those of us to whom the task of planning falls.”  Her own flippant tone caught Luna by surprise.  Just a half hour ago she had been screaming at the heavens.  Now she felt, not good, but calmer, more in control of herself.  There was something to be said for meeting you worst demon and finding more her less fearsome than expected to make other problems seem manageable.

The Nightmare had been hers, Luna knew.  There had never been any question that becoming Nightmare Moon had been a choice.  Of course, Luna had often chosen to hide away rather than own up to that choice.  That option had been taken from her and she had met the side of herself that she feared.  And, perhaps, in coming to terms with it, she might find the strength she’d need to face Sombra as well.

Aloud she said, “Alright Nightmare, you’re on.  We’ll flee to the Dreaming.  And if you turn out to be more external and evil than you seem, then I’ll just have to beat you down before I move on to Sombra!”

Luna spared one last growl for the shadow on the horizon before diving down below the clouds.  As she dropped she reached out for the sun and moon, sending the sun to its rest beneath the earth and bringing for the moon to fill her with its argent light.  Her timing was impeccable.  The first ray of moonlight lit her fall like a spotlight and she cracked the ground before the command tent while bathed in the bright regard of her moon.

“Princess,” whispered Sunlit Rooms in awe.  She had exited the tent to meet Luna at the end of her flyby and had emerged just in time to see the princess descend.  “That was beautiful.”

“Thank you, Sunlit,” Luna said gently.  “But I’m afraid there’s little time for beauty now.  We must act quickly, and we’re going to need your skills to do it.”

Though she was not a member of the military, Sunlit had picked up a few things and she snapped a salute that would have done any solider proud.  “You can count on me, princess!”

“Good.  I need you to draw up the most efficient way to gather the troops in the center of camp in groups no larger than squads.  Pass on the orders to those assistants of yours and have them start bringing the soldiers there.”  Luna’s spat orders rapid fire and Sunlit nodded along so fast her head seemed in danger of catching fire.  “Tell the beings that were at our general staff meeting not to go through the portal.  Also, send somepony to bring Captain Armor to me.”

“No need, princess.  I’m here,” Shining Armor said, arriving at a trot.  “I saw you speeding down to Earth and thought I’d better find out what’s going on.”

“Never mind on that last order.  Go Sunlit.  We don’t have much time.”  Luna watched as the smaller pony dashed off to carry out her commands, then turned to head to the center of camp herself.  “Walk with me Captain.”

“Of course,” he said, falling into step.  “So what is going on?”

“Remember how we wondered why Sombra hadn’t managed to take any of our troops?  I just found out.”  As they walked down the row of tents Luna brought the Captain up to speed, though she kept the part about Nightmare Moon to herself, playing it off as her own idea.  She finished just as they reached the camp’s center.

Pony army encampments all followed the same pattern, to ease navigation no matter where they were set up.  As part of that, the center of camp held a wide open space capable of holding a significant proportion of the army at any one time.  Luna walked to the very center of that open space, drawing strength from the feeling of being surrounded by her subjects.

“I’m going to open a portal to the Dreaming here.”  With her hoof, Luna dragged out a square in the dirt.  “Have the soldiers enter no more than three at a time.  Have them line up as soon as they arrive, but wait until I give the signal that the portal’s ready.  Understand?”

Shining Armor frowned.  “I understand,” he said, though his discontent and worry were writ plain on his face.

Luna, conditioned by her time with Twilight, had expected him to voice his objections and was thrown off by his swift acquiescence.  “You may voice your concerns, Captain.  We do not have much time, but if I cannot convince the captain of my army of the wisdom of my plan then perhaps this is a mistake.”

Respecting the need for haste, Shining Armor’s speech was stilted and fast.  “Will this be safe for the soldier’s you put to sleep?  And why are we disbanding our army when we’re faced with more foes than ever?”

“The soldier’s put to sleep will simply be asleep, rocked in the cradle of the Dreaming.  If I am incapacitated and unable to retrieve them they will simply remain asleep in the Dreaming, which might well be preferable to life as Sombra’s slave or death.”  Luna met and held the Captain’s assessing gaze.  “I am disbanding the army because this is not a battle that they can win and I will not see them die needlessly fighting against their enslaved fellow citizens.  We must strike at Sombra and disrupt his means of possession if we are to win this, and in that task an army would not help.  Does this satisfy you Captain Armor?”

He held her gaze a moment longer and then nodded.  “Alright, princess.  It makes sense to me, and this situation certainly calls for desperate measures.”  With that, he turned away and set to organizing the first troops to arrive.

Only marginally less worried, Luna turned her attention to her own task.  She had not lied to Shining Armor, the portal would be perfectly safe, provided she could make the spells work.

Luna reached for her magic, letting mortal and immortal waves of power wash through her body like the tides.  Magic had always felt like water to her.  Mortal magic was like a warm bath while snug in her home in the depths of winter, personal and comforting and restorative.  Immortal magic felt more like a midnight dip in the ocean on somepony else’s private beach, tingling cold and exciting with just a hint of the forbidden and dangerous.  Holding both was an exercise in boarding two trains of thought from the same station, but both would be needed for this spell to work.

The portal to the Dreaming needed to be immortal magic, so she brought that to the forefront of her mind first.  As it came the sense of Nightmare Moon grew stronger in her mind.  She could feel the other – yet not other – pony watching closely and lending her being to the effort.  Though it had been a thousand years and more since Luna had last opened a portal to the Dreaming, her mind had not forgotten.  Patterns long unused creaked to life and she reached for the veil between worlds.

Moonlight helped.  It leant an alien glow to the landscape that aided Luna in feeling her way to another place.  She let everything blur before her, focusing on impressions over causality.  Why was that grass beneath her hooves?  Not because it had grown wild here for millennia, but because this moment demanded a dash of green and a hint of softness.  The next might call for something else entirely and it would be gone just as easily.

Were those military tents at the boundary of the field, or strange creatures wandering on spindly legs across the landscape?  Was that the clip-clop of pony hooves, or the steady plinking of rain on stone?  Was she wet or dry, cold or warm?  Was she all things at once?  Of course.  Nothing was certain and everything was exactly what it needed to be when it needed to be it, and for no longer than that.

Slowly meandering down through thematic connections, Luna felt her way to the Dreaming.  Urgency might have compelled her to haste, had it been possible.  But it was not.  Dreams and the Dreaming could not be forced.  The more effort and need she poured into this spell, the longer the task would take.  It was not so different from an insomniac lying awake in the small hours of the morning, whose every plea to the sandmare would send her sweet gift spinning further out of reach.

Luna was no insomniac, and for all that it had been a long time the ways of the Dreaming were writ into her soul.  Soon enough, an oval swirl of darkness unfolded in the dirt square she had drawn.  The portal was open.  Keeping it so was no easy feat.  That particular train of thought was destined to follow every idle turning of the tracks and maintaining a general direction for the rails and train required a peculiarly absentminded form of concentration.

The task was made all the more difficult by the second spell Luna needed to cast.  She had to use mortal magic to place a sleep spell on the portal that would activate as ponies walked through.  Fortunately, the spell for compelling sleep was relatively simple for her.  Luna shaped it easily enough while spending the majority of her attention on maintaining the portal.

Combining the two disparate spells was the most challenging of her tasks.  It required skills similar to those of lucid dreaming.  On the one hoof, she had to maintain the dreamlike state require by the portal, on the other hoof she needed the focus and control that guided all waking spell casting.  Preventing one from disrupting the other was no easy task.

Not for nothing though, was Luna mistress of the Dreaming, in all its forms.  Slowly the spell came together, the immortal foundation layered over with the mortal soporific.  Once it was constructed Luna’s task became easier.  All she had to do was preserve the balance of immortal and mortal magic, without peering too closely at the inherently unstable boundary.  This freed up enough of her attention that she became aware of her surroundings again.  While she had been casting, Shining Armor had organized his troops and they now stood where she had indicated, waiting for the command to enter the portal.

“Go ahead, Captain.  The portal is ready, get them moving,” she said, jerking her head toward her creation.

Captain Armor saluted.  “Yes, princess.  You heard her soldiers, forward march!”  With mechanical precision the soldiers parade-marched forward, three abreast.  Yet many could not help breaking from their stoic state to give some acknowledgement to their princess.

Some smiled, others nodded.  Another few hummed the refrain of the Lunar Anthem just loud enough for her to hear.  They loved their princess and they wanted to make sure she knew that as they marched into the unknown, for her.  Luna drank in their adulation, adoring every small sign of affection with a desperation that frightened her.

“So it turns out that for our deepest desire to come true all that was required was Celestia’s disappearance,” Nightmare Moon remarked idly.  “Just as we predicted and attempted to realize all those years ago.”

Luna was so startled by that observation that she almost lost her hold on the portal.  “I didn’t ask for this,” she objected plaintively.  “Even you – we – would have only banished Celestia.  We would not have condemned her to the death she now faces.”

“Perhaps not.  But however the circumstance arose, you have this and you love it.  Am I wrong, Luna?”

“I won’t apologize for returning my subjects love,” Luna protested.  “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want my sister back.”

“Are you so eager to return to Celestia’s shadow?” Nightmare Moon prodded.  “It is, after all, ever so large and dark enough to give rise to nightmares.”

“Is this going to be a regular thing?” Luna asked, irritated.  “You popping up in my head and poking at me, trying to stir up resentment?”

“I told you Luna, I’m not real.”  The Nightmare sounded almost sad.  “As you reconnect with the Dreaming I expect I’ll fade away.  It would have been kinder to not give me awareness of myself.  Regardless, you should take heed of this warning direct from your subconscious.  You are happy with Celestia gone.  If you truly want her back, you’d best start thinking of how to share power without losing the affection you’ve enjoyed in her absence.”

“That was a more nuanced point that I thought you were making.”  Luna hesitated wrestling with herself, then said, “Thank you, Nightmare, I’ll think about that.”

“See that you do,” was the Nightmare’s only reply.

The next several hours passed in a blur.  Luna dedicated part of her mind to holding the portal and spent the rest considering Nightmare Moon’s words.  She’d come to no conclusions when the blur of soldiers marching past finally slowed and ended.  With a start, Luna came to realize that the camp itself was empty, save only for those beings she had asked Sunlit to hold aside.

“I intend to bring those of you still here with me into the Dreaming in an awake state,” she called to those assembled.  “We should be safe there and will try to devise a way to strike at Sombra directly.  Give me a moment to undo the sleep spell and then we must hurry.  There will be time for discussion once we are through.”

“Well, if we are to die, at least I will do so having seen a place of magic no other dragon has beheld with their waking eyes,” Sim said grandly.  “I am content.  Cast your magic, princess.  I will follow.”

“Wait,” Iolite said, scanning the gathered crowd.  “Where’s Spike?  I hadn’t seen him since we left the city, but I thought he was just sequestered with Twilight.”

Luna hesitated.  “He is likely with the missing member of the mane six,” she said cautiously.

“You mean Rarity?” Iolite asked.  “I suppose that makes sense.  His feelings for her are not exactly subtle.  And where exactly is she, then?”

“We don’t have time for me to explain,” Luna said.  “Suffice it to say that they are not near, and we place them in no more danger by heading through the portal without them.”

“Fine,” Iolite said unhappily.  “I don’t like it, but I understand we are pressed for time,” Iolite acknowledged.  “

No one else ventured an objection, so Luna turned her attention back to the spell.  It was difficult to refocus on the component spells after so long taking it as a whole, like trying to move a specific muscle in one cheek rather than her whole face.  Still, destruction has ever been easier than creation and it was the work of moments to set the sleep spell to crumbling.

“It is ready,” Luna called.  “Everyone prepare to pass through.  Dragons one at a time, please.”

Before anyone could move, Rainbow spoke up.  “What about Pinkie?” she asked bluntly.

Luna, who had completely forgotten Pinkie and the special trouble she might cause, was caught flatfooted.  “What about her?”

“We’re taking her with us.” Rainbow spoke with absolute conviction.  Grounded by her wounded wings, she nevertheless managed to glare up at Luna as though she was looking down on the princess.

Despite Rainbow’s objection, Luna held her ground. “No.  That would bring Sombra straight into the Dreaming with us.  Besides, she’s already been taken over.  The incoming armies won’t have any reason to hurt her.  We need to get to work on a way to save everypony, not risk it all for a pony we’ve already lost.”  Luna was aiming for a gentle, consoling tone but a trace of agitation crept through.

“We’re taking her,” Rainbow repeated.  “Or I’ll destroy that portal and strand us all.  No pony is getting left behind.”  Her magenta eyes were hard and certain, and Luna knew that Rainbow was not bluffing.  As if to confirm it, Rainbow raised one hoof and Luna saw a spark of electricity on the infamous bloodstained ebonite gloves.

Dash was not mistaken either.  A pony as fast as Rainbow could easily do enough damage to disrupt Luna’s concentration and destroy the portal.  It was doubtful that there would be enough time to form another portal before Sombra realized he had an opening to capture the leaders of the army that opposed him.  Then too, Rainbow might have a better idea than it seemed at first glance.  In the Dreaming Luna could almost certainly contain Sombra and they might well be able to get more information out of him than that could have otherwise.  Finally, they simply didn’t have time to argue.

“Fine,” Luna said abruptly, startling those listening.  “But we can’t give her, or Sombra, any time to figure out what’s going on.  I can’t move from here without losing the portal, so Twilight will have to go with you to undo the wards around Pinkie’s tent.”

Twilight, who had been uncharacteristically quiet until then, spoke up.  “If Sombra reacts quickly I don’t know that I’ll be able to run back here in time.  And I’m afraid that you, Rainbow, aren’t in any shape to carry us back here.”

“I’ll carry you,” Gilda and Thraxus offered at the same time.

Rainbow Dash looked from one to the other, assessing them.  “Gilda will come with me,” she said at last.  “You grab Pinkie in your talons and fly her through the portal.  Twilight, you grab hold of my neck and I’ll run us back here.  Thraxus, you make sure the portal stays open as long as possible.”

Thraxus looked down at this small body and his face twisted in distaste, but he nodded.  “Very well.”

“Sombra will realize something is going on once the wards around Pinkie drop,” Luna warned.  “He’ll probably be teleporting troops in here the second you grab Pinkie.  Will you be fast enough with Twilight on your back?”

Dash raised an eyebrow and Gilda snorted.  “You’re asking if Dash is fast enough?  She is.  But if it doesn’t look like we’re going to make it you go through and leave us behind,” Gilda said stalwartly.  “We’re willing to take that risk, and you’re the one pony we can’t afford to lose.”

Dash glanced sideways at the griffon.  “Thanks,” she muttered.  “Both of you,” she added, looking over at Thraxus.”

“Of course,” Thraxus said, as if there had never been any doubt.  Gilda just placed a supportive talon on Dash’s shoulder.

Luna spared a second to consider their plan.  She wasn’t thrilled with it, but every second they delayed the danger mounted.  Without the army they were horribly vulnerable to an all-out attack.  “Very well.  Do it.  Go!”

Gilda and Rainbow Dash took off like a shot, with Twilight running behind as fast as her legs could carry her.

“The rest of you, enter the portal.  Don’t go far on the other side,” she warned.  “I’m not entirely sure how the Dreaming will adapt to this many beings at one time, so try not to make too much commotion.”

With various sounds of acquiescence, the other beings started moving through.  First Iolite, still glancing around in the hopes that Spike would turn up at the last minute.  She was followed swiftly by Sim, looking delighted that it would get to see something new.  Then Applejack, the last sad remainder of the mane six, Sunlit Rooms, ever-faithful assistant, and Shining Armor, the loyal captain entered the portal in quick succession.

After they all entered Thraxus and Luna had nothing to do but wait, straining their senses for any sign that Pinkie’s wards had fallen and the rest were on their way.  Luna’s heartbeat sounded loud in her ears and every thump seemed to take minutes to come.  Now that she had a moment with nothing to distract her from worry the doubts started to pile on.  What if this had been a mistake?  What if she had just single-hoofedly removed the only obstacle to Sombra’s victory?  What if–

A tingle ran down her spine as she felt the wards fall.  Almost immediately the pops of teleportation began to echo through the camp.  Flames went up at the command tent, the supply wagons, and the mess hall.  Obviously, Sombra had planned this attack and had merely been waiting for an opening.

Hoofsteps thundered on the dirt, growing closer to where Luna stood.  She didn’t have much time to wait for Rainbow and the others, but the pegasus was nothing if not fast.  Surely she would be there in time.

She glanced over at Thraxus who raised a threatening claw and said “wait.”

Suddenly, a squad of Sombra’s troops turned the corner around a tent and saw they had a straight shot to Luna.  Unicorns charged attack spells, pegasus charged lightning bolts, and earth ponies just charged.  She couldn’t simultaneously defend herself and maintain the portal.  Thraxus might try to fight, but he was still small and couldn’t keep all the ponies off of her.

Luna was out of time.

The dragon and the princess shared a last glance.  Thraxus looked at the oncoming soldiers and hung his head.  “Go,” he said.  “I will wait for Rainbow Dash and we will sell our lives dearly.”

She hated to do it, but there was no choice and there was no time.  Luna made her decision to go.  Just before she could leap through the portal, a polychromatic streak zoomed through the oncoming ponies, bowling them over with its speed and force.  A lightning bolt shot from it, blasting the troops that had been out of range of the first pass.

Luna could scarcely believe her eyes.  Rainbow Dash, proving once more that impossible was a word for other ponies, was flying despite her wounded and bound wings.  Or perhaps gliding would be a more accurate term.  She was leaping into the air and using pegasus magic to send herself rocketing forward.  A very frazzled Twilight had her forelegs wrapped around Rainbow’s neck and was holding on for dear life.

It was an entirely novel and very impressive form of locomotion.  Most importantly, it was fast.  Luna barely had time to understand how Rainbow Dash was moving before the other pony had closed the distance.

“Come on Thraxus, Gilda’s right behind me,” she called, as she passed through the portal.  Taking her at her word, Thraxus dashed forward and followed her through the portal.

Turning, Luna saw that Dash was correct.  Gilda flew rapidly through the gap Dash had punched in the squad of attacking soldiers.  Pinkie Pie, doubtlessly under Sombra’s influence, squirmed and writhed in an attempt to break free.  But griffons were hunters at heart, and it was a rare pony that could escape once it was clasped in a griffon’s talons.  Sure enough, Gilda had no problem holding on to Pinkie Pie as she flew the last few yards and entered the portal.

As the last tuft of the griffon’s tail whipped through the portal Luna hesitated no longer.  She released her hold on the magic and the portal began to shrink at once.  Luna took two steps forward and dove, sliding into the welcoming embrace of the Dreaming.  On a whim she flared her wings, flipping over so she could shoot one last laugh into the disbelieving faces of Sombra’s soldiers as she escaped their clutches.

This proved to have been a poor idea, as it meant she was not looking where she came out.  Luna crashed into the ponies on the other side of the portal and went down in a tumble of far too many legs. With a struggle she raised her head and took in the scene.

There were, at first glance, three ponies present who should not have been, and one pony who should have been there was missing.  Every creature present seemed stunned at the sudden changes in the group’s compositon, but Rainbow Dash was most bothered by the missing pony.  She gazed down at the white pony with a purple mane who had flipped over her head and now lay on her back in front of Dash.

“What the hay?  Rarity?” she asked, desperately confused.  “If you’re here, then where’s Twilight?”
> Arc 3 Chapter 5: Those Left Behind
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nine days earlier

Twilight found the empty city comforting in its disregard.  She was an introvert at heart, and months of running an army had drained her in ways she’d scarcely realized until she spent some time alone.  To be alone in a library, well, there was no better balm imaginable for her bruised soul.

The past two days had been challenging.  Readying an army to march in that short a time was no mean feat, even for Twilight.  That difficulty had been compounded by the mission she had set herself for after the army departed.  It had made so much sense at the time.  When the Equestrian army left Sombra’s army would leave to pursue it, thus leaving the city empty and Sombra relatively unguarded.

Twilight had proposed that she be left behind, hidden in the city and able to seek out Celestia and/or Hvergelmir, depending on what seemed most promising.  Perhaps she could even strike at Sombra himself if the opportunity arose, though she knew that such an attack was unlikely to be successful.  Luna hadn’t wanted to permit it, but she’d seen the merit of the idea once they’d added an additional feature to the plan.

If Sombra knew that Twilight had split from the army, he would be on guard and he would place extra protections around important locations.  If, however, they could convince him that Twilight had left the city with the rest of the ponies, he would have no reason to be so careful.  To accomplish the deception Luna and Twilight had brought in Rarity.  A persistent full body illusion was beyond any unicorn, except maybe Twilight, but a unicorn as skilled in minutiae as Rarity could provide the focus for the spell so long as the power came from somewhere else.

They’d hit on the plan of having the disguised Rarity sequester herself with Pinkie or stay in her tent.  Both locations would have what would appear to be complicated defensive wards set up by Luna and the real Twilight.  Their actual purpose would be to provide power and aid Rarity in sustaining the illusion.  Luna would take over the spell while escorting “Twilight” from one location to the other under the pretense of receiving reports on her progress.

The plan itself was solid, though the gain was minute and the risk immense.  After all, if Twilight were discovered she’d likely be killed or turned before anypony could help her.  Fortunately for her purposes, Twilight had been able to rush Luna along before the princess had time to realize just how flimsy the plan was.  Of course it was dangerous.  That was the point.

Twilight found herself not particularly caring about the danger.  She could feel in her bones that the city was the center of this conflux of events.  Victory elsewhere would be no true victory.

So there she was, hidden deep in one of the shockingly well-preserved libraries that dotted the crystal city.  A simple extrasensory spell had detected the vibrations of the Equestrian army leaving.  That left her with a day or so to spend reading until Sombra’s army left in pursuit.

Twilight trotted along the rows of shelves, her hooves kicking up little puffs of dust as she scanned the ancient covers.  So many of them looked tempting.  It took all of her willpower not to grab the first book she saw and curl up with it until she ran out of time or the book was done.  Unfortunately, even downtime like this was a precious resource.  She walked among the shelves recording which books looked to contain the most useful information.  Twilight was determined to be strategic in her reading selection.

One mystery troubled her more than any other.  She knew, thanks to Luna and Sim, what Sombra’s end game was: dominion over Hvergelmir and the command of half the world’s magic that would come along with that.  Thanks to her own efforts Twilight also knew the location of Celestia’s immortal magic.  Of those two problems, Twilight was confident that the latter could not be solved via research.  After all, an immortal had never before been separated from their power.  However, that still left the question of where Sombra had gotten the power he’d needed to dominate Hvergelmir and possess ponies in the first place.

She paused to jot down the title and location of Crystals and You: A Treatise on Practical Applications of Crystalline Thaumaturgy in a Non-Starswirlian Reference Frame, before continuing with her musings.  Sombra had been, by all accounts, an ordinary, if talented unicorn at some point.  Ponies had repeatedly compared him to Twilight herself, but Twilight couldn’t think of any safe way to acquire the same level of power he’d already demonstrated.

She could think of a few unsafe ways.  Equestria was no gentle fairytale land.  There were plenty of beings lurking in the dark corners of the world that would be willing bargain with a summoner for power.  If you didn’t care what you gave up you might even stand against an immortal, for a time.  However, such deals tended to leave the pony in question bereft of crucial faculties such as self-control or sanity.  Sombra, at least from what Twilight has seen, was still sane and ruthlessly self-controlled.  Possession by some foul dark creature was unlikely, but admittedly couldn’t be fully ruled out.

Thump!

Twilight shot a foot in the air, her heart beating a mile a minute.  A loud thump had come from the direction of her little cache of supplies.  Her fear-filled mind immediately leapt to the conclusion that one of the dark creatures she’d just been ruminating on had come to gobble her up.  The more rational part of her mind suspected that she’d been found already and her demise or enslavement was imminent.  It was hard to say which option scared her more, but ignorance scared her most of all.

She turned, walking gingerly on the tips of her hooves as she crept back down the corridor.  She said a silent goodbye as she moved past the bookshelves she’d been cataloguing, regretting all the books she’d not had time to read.  Twilight had set up her supplies in a circular open area that might once have served as a reading room for visitors to the library.  Fortunately, the corridor she was in made a sharp turn right before opening up, so she had a chance to get close without fear of being seen.

With the familiar shield spell ready and her mage’s blade just aching to be released, Twilight reached the turn and peered carefully around it.  Instead of a monster or the possessed ponies that she’d feared, she found Spike rubbing his shin and grumbling at a nearby table.

“Stupid table, stupid limbs.  I am never changing size again, it takes forever to get used to it,” he was muttering.

Still cautious, Twilight kept her spells prepared as she came around the corner.  “Spike?” she called, “what are you doing here?  You shouldn’t be here.”

Spike brightened up at the sound of her voice.  “Twilight?  Ha! I knew it!” he grinned and punched the air in triumph.  “I knew you would be here.”

“You shouldn’t be here!” Twilight repeated, growing more agitated.  “You have to leave, now.  If you hurry you can still catch the army.  Just go!”

“Whoa, easy there, Twilight,” Spike said, startled by her vehemence.  “I’m not going anywhere.  You’re here and you’re planning something, right?  Then my place is by your side.”

“No!  You can’t be here.  It’s wrong.  It’s all wrong.”  Twilight’s voice was filled with wild agitation and she did not walk so much as stumble into the room to lean against a table.

“What’s wrong?  Why shouldn’t I be here?” Spike took a step towards.  “If this is about not wanting to put me in danger I understand, but I can’t just hang back with everything that’s going on. Is that it?”

“Yes!  No.  You don’t understand,” she said plaintively.  “If you’re here then I don’t– I can’t–“ Twilight broke down, tears flowing from her one good eye.  Her body trembled, wracked by sudden sobs.

“Twilight!”  Spike scrambled forward, almost tripping over himself again.  Standing before her he hesitated, clearly uncertain in the face of his elder sister’s breakdown.  Finally, he tentatively wrapped his arms around her and let her cry.  “There, there,” he murmured awkwardly.  “It’ll be alright.”

For all that Spike wasn’t great at being comforting, Twilight spent a few moments taking solace in their togetherness.  There was something to be said for the fact that, even after she had hidden herself away, Spike knew her well enough to be there for her.  Some distant part of her mind noted that this was the first time they had hugged since he had grown larger than her.  Twilight tried to find comfort in that, in the warmth of the fire in his scales and the feeling that for just those few moments she could forget the fearful world outside.

At last, her crying slowed enough that she could finish the sentence she hadn’t wanted to face the truth of.  “If you’re here, Spike,” she whispered, “then I have to worry about making it home.”

“What do you mean?  Oh.  Oh, Twilight, no.”  Spike’s eyes widened as he understood her meaning.  Reflexively he hugged her tighter.  “I can’t ask you to promise that we’ll both make it home okay.  We’re facing a powerful enemy and nothing is certain.  But I can ask, and I will ask, that you don’t just through your life away in a futile gesture.”

Twilight pushed him away and looked down, not meeting his eyes.  “I wasn’t intending to, really.  I just…  I kind of figured that in this situation it would just happen.  I deserve it anyway.  If Fluttershy doesn’t get to go home, then why should I?”

“Come on, you know that’s not how it works.”  He placed a claw on her shoulder.  “You know she wouldn’t want that.”

“I do know.  Intellectually I know that.  I just can’t make myself care.”  Twilight’s horn lit up for a moment and then sparked and fizzled out.  She gave a bitter laugh.  “I thought so.  I can’t even make myself care enough to cast that shield spell around myself anymore.”

“You first cast it to protect me,” Spike said slowly.  “So, how about this?  I want you to promise to protect your life as if it were my life.  Because I know you wouldn’t just throw my life away.  And I can guarantee you that if you don’t make it home, I might as well not either.”

Twilight looked up at her dragon.  “Spike, I just showed you I can’t–“

“You can,” he interrupted her.  “You can protect yourself.  You have to give some thought to preserving your own life, or I swear to Princess Celestia I will pick you up and carry you all the way back to the army.

Twilight coughed, caught somewhere between a sob and a laugh.  “Spike, you couldn’t do that.”

“I can and I will,” he insisted.  “Just think how silly you’ll look.  All the soldiers will see their former commander getting carried back into camp like a little foal that’s snuck out after bed time.  It’ll ruin all that work into sneaking away too.”

Twilight stared at the floor for another moment and took in a deep breath, bringing her hoof to her chest.  Then she slowly exhaled, letting the hoof fall back down.  After three repetitions she felt marginally more in control of herself.  “Alright Spike.  You’re right.”

He shook his head.  “I’m not letting this drop until you actually say it.”

“Spike, that’s not–“

“Say it.”

“Spike…”

“Say.  It.”

“Ugh, fine.” Twilight flopped into a sitting position on the floor and rolled her eyes.  “I promise to look after my life as if it were your life.  Are you happy now?  Little brothers are so annoying.”

Spike chuckled slightly.  “Yeah always telling you to look out for yourself, how horrible of me.”

“So horrible,” Twilight agreed.  She placed a hoof against his side.  “I guess I am glad you’re here, at least a little.  But I don’t think a simple promise is going to fix me.”

“Then we’ll talk about it,” Spike said gesturing wildly.  “We’ll spend days and days and truly ludicrous amounts of tea trying to get over it, or come to terms with it, or just learning to live with it.  But we’ll do it together.  The two of us and all your friends and Princess Luna and Princess Celestia, once we rescue her, and anypony else we need.  But you won’t face it alone and you can’t just give up like you were considering.  Deal?”

Twilight nodded firmly.  “Deal.”  Spike smiled at her and she managed a twitch of the lips in response.  It wasn’t exactly a smile, but at least it was better than the bitter twist she’d worn before.  She clapped her hooves together sharply, and a hard focus returned to her one eye.  “Now, there are certain things I need to know before we go any further.”

“Should I be taking notes?” Spike asked wryly.

“No, but maybe I should.  It could be important in spotting what mistakes I made.”  With a quick thought Twilight grabbed a quill and paper in her magic and levitated them before her.  “How did you figure out I was missing and that I would be here?”

Spike scratched his chin as he thought.  “Well, you remember that I was helping you organize the army to leave?  The first oddity I noticed was that you ordered Barrel, the quartermaster, to abandon a box of dried alfalfa.  Everypony was ordered to jettison as much as possible, but I know how much you love alfalfa sandwiches and a box of greens is hardly heavy.”

Twilight’s quill continued to scratch across the page as she glanced askance at Spike.  “Seriously?  That was enough to make you suspicious?”

“Hey,” he said, tapping that selfsame box of alfalfa nestled among her supplies, “I was right, wasn’t I?”

“So it seems,” Twilight said.  “Anyway, please continue.”

“There’s not much more to tell,” Spike said, shrugging.  “I kept a close eye on you after that and I saw you, Princess Luna, and Rarity go into a tent.  Princess Luna and Rarity left soon after and she was disguised as you.”

“But how could you tell?” Twilight asked insistently.  “I thought the illusion we cooked up was just about perfect.”

“Twilight, I’ve lived with you for my entire life.  And I’ve, er, paid a lot of attention to Rarity over the years,” he added sheepishly.

Twilight rolled her eyes fondly.  “Spike your crush on Rarity is the worst kept secret in Ponyville, and considering how fast gossip gets around that’s saying something.”

“Anyway,” Spike said pointedly, “the upshot of that is I have a pretty good sense of how each of you walk, your resting expressions, and all the other unique little traits that make up everypony.”

“And that let you know that it was really Rarity disguised as me?” Twilight asked skeptically.

“She hesitated before walking through a puddle that you had completely ignored on the way in.  She tossed her mane twice just while I was watching and I’ve never seen you do that.  She walked a pace behind the princess and referred to her as ‘Princess Luna’ when you’ve recently made a point of treating Princess Luna as an equal and calling her by name.”  Spike ticked off the details on his claws.  “Yeah, it was pretty clear that that was Rarity and not you.”

“Ok, so, say you were a total stranger,” Twilight proposed.  “Do you think you would have been able to tell us apart?  Or was everything based on your familiarity with the two of us?”

“I don’t think just anypony would have been able to figure it out.  I can’t be sure of course.  You were trying to trick Sombra, right?” Spike asked.

Twilight nodded.  “Ideally I’ll get a shot at him when his guard is down because he thinks I’m still with the army.  Hay, even if he figures out that Rarity isn’t me that doesn’t mean he’ll know where I am.”

Spike shifted in his seat and looked over at Twilight uncertainty.  “So, we go on?”

“We go on,” Twilight confirmed.  “Get comfy Spike, we’ve got about two days of research before Sombra’s army moves out and we can make our move.”

Spike chuckled.  “It’s just like old times.  Want a refreshing pot of sapphire steeped Darjeeling tea?”

That almost eked a full smile out of Twilight.  “That sounds lovely Spike.  There’s a box in the corner and I’m sure a packed a tea kettle near the water barrels.”  Spike had turned to start brewing when Twilight called after him.  “Oh, and Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“Hold the sapphires.”

“One of these days, Twilight.  One of these days.”

Though the library was not their library, they nevertheless fell back into a comforting and familiar rhythm.  Spike would go on book runs and take care of little details like food and tea.  Twilight would devour each book she was brought, skimming more quickly than she would have liked to try and find useful information.  When something seemed promising they’d take a break and talk it over, with Twilight bouncing ideas off of Spike like a pony playing tennis against a wall.

Truthfully, there was more talking than reading and not all of that talking was strictly restricted to Sombra.  They had spent more time apart in the past six months than at any time previously and to just have the chance to chat again was restorative for both of them.  And if the talk sometimes drifted to Fluttershy and tears, well, that too was restorative in its own way.

Twilight was almost happy.  For the first time since she had woken up in a bizarro-world without Celestia, she felt like she was where she belonged.  The peace couldn’t last, of course, but even in its impermanence it leant Twilight the strength she needed for one final push.  It was a bandage, not a panacea, but a bandage was enough.

Spike and Twilight heard the rumble of Sombra’s departing army begin early on the second day.  It took until afternoon for the rumble to cease and it was evening before Twilight felt confident that the army was fully gone.  Neither Spike nor Twilight wanted to venture forth in the dark, so they elected to spend one more night in their library refuge.

Bright and early the next morning Twilight and Spike gathered what supplies they could carry.  Twilight donned the armor she’d been gifted by the dragons and worn in battle against the griffons.  The lavender scales had been scrubbed clean of blood and darkened slightly with polish to help it stand out less against a muted backdrop.  Twilight cinched it tight and nodded in satisfaction when it scarcely rustled as she walked.

“Ready Spike?”

Spike slung his own pack over his shoulder and nodded.  “Ready, Twilight.”

Together the pony and the dragon walked out of the library.  Twilight shot one last backward glance and, deep in her heart, knew the ending for what it was.

So passed the last peaceful days of Archmage Twilight Sparkle.


***


Spike and Twilight emerged into an empty city.  Their chosen hiding spot had been slightly away from the main pony encampment, in case Sombra sent soldiers over to check if anything, or anypony, had been left behind.  They were practically on the outskirts of the city, with only a single wall between them and the outside.

Unfortunately, that meant they were fairly far from the central spire.  Twilight raised a hoof to shield her eyes against the glare and gazed forward.  Row upon row of crystal buildings stood before her, rising in ring after ring.  Looming over everything, so tall that it blotted out the sun, stood the crystal spire.

It should have glimmered in the sun, much like the other buildings occasionally fractured the light and let off sharp glints to stab like daggers into the eyes.  It should have, but it did not.  Instead, the crystal itself seemed smoky and clouded and the shadow it cast was darker than it had any right to be.

“That’s where we’re going?” Spike asked, following Twilight’s gaze.

“Probably.  That spell I used to find Celestia will give me the general direction so I was just planning on following that.”  She dropped her hoof back to the ground and glanced around the street in front of them.  “I’d be shocked if it took us anywhere else, though.”

“Any ideas on how to get there?”

Twilight shot him a sardonic look and he rolled his eyes in response.

“I mean besides just walking toward it,” he clarified.  “These streets don’t follow straight lines and I don’t think we want to spend too much time wandering around.”

“You’re probably right,” Twilight conceded.  “But I don’t have a better idea.  Let’s just start moving and see how our progress is.  We’ll stick to the buildings where we can.  I don’t want it to be easy for anypony he left behind to spot us.”

“Roger that.”  Spike hoisted his bag and the two set off down the street.

Progress was slow.  They crept from building to building, staying inside whenever possible and out of line of sight of the spire when the buildings gave out.  It was frustrating playing hide and seek with the largest structure around.  The lack of reaction during the times they were forced to make a run for it made all the care they were taking even more aggravating.  For all they knew their efforts at sneaking were useless and they had been spotted the second they emerged from the library.  Or, contrarily, no pony was even keeping watch and they could have strolled right through the city without any problems.

Despite the frustration, Twilight was committed to being careful.  Surprise was the strongest weapon they had and she was not willing to surrender it out of laziness.  Spike, as always, followed her lead.

The two barely spoke as they walked.  They were well familiar with each other’s silences and fearful of listening ears.  Only hooves and claws made noise as they clicked or thumped on the crystal cobblestones.

Around noon Twilight called a break so she could eat lunch, dipping into the supplies she’d brought from the library.  As a dragon, Spike could have gone for far longer without eating, but he was certainly glad to have a chance to rest his legs as well.  After a quick alfalfa sandwich the two kept moving.

Travel was easier after lunch.  The sun was no longer behind the spire meaning they weren’t in or near its shadow anymore.  Twilight hadn’t realized just how much that shadow had been weighing on her until it was swept away by the warmth of the sun.  Though they were still careful, they felt as though they were moving much faster.

A careful casual conversation even sprung up, the usual nothings of family members that have spent forever together.  They felt almost like tourists, seeing the sights of a new city.  Spike pulled a tour guide impersonation, making up interesting facts about every fountain and building they passed.  Twilight found it within her to briefly play along, and she insisted on looking for a gift shop when they passed a building whose wide open front doors and interior glass cases clearly marked it as a former museum.

The good humor didn’t last long, but they felt lighter for having had those moments.  Any trace of normalcy helped while traversing a place made uncanny by how clearly it was meant to be teeming with life.  Walking through a dead city left them with the unalterable impression of being trespassers.  Worse still was the feeling that, if they stayed for too long, they would come to belong in that desolate city.

As the sun sunk below the outer walls and the shadows lengthened they felt the same weight from that morning return.  Any trace of their early afternoon levity died and every step seemed a terrible burden.  Still, they had made good time while their good mood had persisted, and they reached the last ring of buildings before the spire just as it was getting too dark to continue.

“Let’s rest somewhere around here for the night,” Twilight said, calling a halt.  “I don’t want to reach the spire in the dark.”

“Good thinking.  What about that building?”  Spike pointed over to their right at a smaller building nestled right up against one of the larger mansions.  By the looks of it, it had been either a gardener’s shed or the servant’s house, assuming the larger building had belonged to a Noble.

“Let’s check it out.”  Twilight trotted over and opened the door.  She peered inside, lighting her horn so she could see.  The first room had a U-shaped receptacle that had probably one held a fire cooking pit.  There was a counter next to the fire pit and an island counter in the center of the room.  Even better, the wall with the fire pit was closest to the spire and, as such, had no windows giving them at least three layers of crystal building between their prospective camp and the spire.

“I think this will do nicely, Spike.  You do a quick check of the rest of the house and I’ll get set up.”  Spike nodded and wandered off to explore the building while Twilight settled her pack on the floor and began to sort out what she’d need.

Less than an hour later there were shades on all the windows and a dim magical lavender fire was crackling in the fire pit.  Twilight had set out the one sleeping bag she’d brought for herself.  She’d also brought a spare blanket which she’d spread out next to her for Spike.  Between the fire and his natural hardiness, he’d insisted that that would be sufficient.

Dinner was burritos with rice and beans from the supplies Twilight had brought, easily warmed in her magical fire.  Spike sprinkled his with a few gems he’d brought from camp when he snuck away and they took their first few bites while the water for tea warmed over the fire.  They ate in silence, recovering from the day’s emotionally, if not physically challenging trek.  As they finished their meal Spike spoke up for the first time since he’d returned from exploring the house.

“Do you think we should set a watch tonight?” he asked.

“I’m leaning toward no,” Twilight said.  She leaned forward and grasped the tea kettle in her magic, pouring herself a steaming cup.  “I can set some hidden wards to alert us if anypony comes close, and I’d rather we were both at our best for the spire tomorrow.”

Spike held out his cup and Twilight filled that up as well.  “Won’t Sombra be able to get around any wards you set?  I mean, you took weeks making the more secure ones around the library and he’s pretty darn powerful.”

“If Sombra knows we’re here than it doesn’t matter what wards I set or if we keep a watch.  There’s not much we can do against him yet.”  Twilight took a sip of the hot tea and sighed with pleasure as the scalding liquid warmed her from within.  “The wards are just to give us time to hide if he happens to be heading this way without knowing that we’re here.”

“Alright then.”  Spike threw back his cup and swallowed its steaming contents, apparently enjoying a pleasant warming sensation from what would have caused significant burns to most other species.  “I guess it’s time to hit the hay.”  He made to go curl up under his blanket, but Twilight stopped him.

“Wait, Spike, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”  Twilight shifted uncomfortably in her seat.  “Well, I’ve been putting it off too, but I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

Spike tilted his head curiously.  “With that kind of lead in you’ve made me curious.  You know you can tell me anything, Twilight.”

Twilight took a deep breath.  “Ok, here goes.  You remember what I said about the memory spell that was placed on me?  How it took my feelings and memories for my family and redirected those emotions to Celestia?”

“Yeah.  What about it?” Spike asked, still unsure where Twilight was going with this.

“I figured all of that out because a member of my family contacted me.  Or at least, somepony who claims to be a member of my family,” Twilight hedged.  “I’m not fully convinced, but the preliminary tests seem to suggest…” she trailed off.

Spike had stiffened and was staring blankly ahead.  With an effort of will he forced a smile on his face.  “That’s great, Twilight!  Really, really great.”

“I appreciate the attempt to be happy for me,” Twilight said gently.  “But why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”

He slumped to the floor and spoke at barely above a whisper.  “I think I understand a bit better how you acted around Iolite.  I want to be happy for you.  And I am!  But my first thought was to be afraid you wouldn’t need me now that you’ve got a pony family.”

“Oh Spike, I’ll always need you.  You’re my number one assistant after all.”  Twilight stood up and trotted over to Spike, sitting down so that their sides were just barely touching.  “Besides I told them that we were a package deal.  If they want me back in their lives, then they have to get to know my little brother too.”

“You really said that?” Spike asked, peeking over at her.

“I said it and I meant it.” Twilight confirmed.  “That’s part of why I’m telling you this now.  If something happens to me–“

“Twilight” Spike said warningly.

“I promised to look after my life, and I will.  But as you said, this is dangerous and there are no guarantees.”  Twilight sniffed, at the edge of tears again and frustrated about it.  “I just want you to know you still have some family, if the worst happens.”

“You mean, we have some family to get to know after we both get out of here,” Spike corrected firmly, sitting up to his full height before softening.  “But I appreciate it, Twilight, thanks for telling me.  So who are these family members, anyway?  Anypony I know?”

“Duh,” Twilight smacked her face.  “This doesn’t do you much good if you don’t know who they are.  Apparently, Captain Shining Armor is my older brother.  My mother is a writer named Twilight Velvet and my father is an astronomer named Nightlight.  They live in Canterlot and that is the extent of my knowledge.”

“That’s it?” Spike chuckled.  “Come on Twilight, you weren’t more curious about your long lost family?”

“I’ve been a little pressed for time recently,” Twilight said defensively.

“Please, defeating evil should be old hat for you by now,” Spike teased.  “New family members are much more interesting.”

“This time is different,” Twilight said sadly and Spike winced at his faux pas.

“So, Shining Armor,” he said, trying to move the conversation forward.  “He seems like a good stallion.”

“Yeah, he’s been pretty essential these past few months.  And he’s pretty good at magic too.  Apparently it runs in the family.  He’s got a wife back home, so I guess that’s another pony for us to get to know.”  Twilight looked Spike straight in the eye.  “Seriously though, Spike, are you okay with this?”

“Of course I am,” Spike said with certainty.  “I’m looking forward to expanding our family.”  He hesitated, then continued tentatively.  “In that vein, though, if you wanted to spend more time with Iolite and I, well, I’d like that a lot.”

Twilight blinked.  “You want me to spend time with the two of you?  I thought I’d just get in the way of you learning about being a dragon.”

“It’s not all lessons, Twilight,” Spike chuckled.  “Though maybe I should warn your family that that’s the best way to approach you.  Mostly we just talk, you know, get to know each other a little better.  I’d love it if you were there for that some of the time.”

“I didn’t realize you felt that way.”  Twilight took another sip of her tea, making a face as she realized it had grown cold while they talked.  “I’d be happy to join you two sometime.”  Her mouth quirked slightly.  “With all this talk of the ponies and dragons we have to get to know I’m really looking forward to being done dealing with this little problem.”

“That’s the spirit!” Spike encouraged, before a mischievous grin slid across his face.  “So, do you think your parents have any embarrassing pictures from your foalhood?”

Twilight swatted him.  “No, but I bet you were dropped as an egg.  Now, serious conversation over.  Time to sleep.”  A quick flick of magic dragged her sleeping bag over and she was inside and fake snoring in seconds.

“Fine, Twilight,” Spike chuckled again.  “We’re all done with the serious conversation.  Good night.”  He settled himself cozily under his blanket and yawned widely as Twilight dimmed the light from her magic fire.

Twilight rolled over and could see his eyes closing.  Without leaving her warm sleeping bag she spent a few minutes cleaning up their tea and rigging up a basic warning ward.

As she finished she let her magic fade, leaving the fire as no more than a night light, she whispered, “Good night Spike. Sleep well.” Then she drifted off to sleep.


***


“Do you think he saw us,” Spike whispered.  He was crouched next to Twilight and the both of them were panting from their mad dash to the base of the crystal spire.

“I think we’d know by now if he had.”  Twilight chanced a glance around.  The spire and its immediate environs had the unnatural stillness she’d come to associate with the empty city.  They’d found that the spire was surrounded by a courtyard that once must have been quite grand.  Unfortunately, it provided exactly zero cover for them to make their approach unobserved.  Robbed of any way to be stealthy, Twilight had checked for obvious traps or wards and then they’d made a run for it.

Spike nodded and stretched to his full height, just a few inches taller than Twilight.  “I suppose there’s no reason to linger.  It’s not like there’s much we can do if we are seen.  Any idea which door it is?”

“Give me a minute.”  Twilight turned her attention to the spire’s supports and the doors set into each one.  The ice that had covered the doors when Luna had first encountered Sombra had long since melted with the full return of the Crystal Empire, and the four wooden doors stood out clearly against the crystal of the spire.  “Let’s see, Luna mentioned she found Sombra’s prison at the base of the southernmost door, so let’s skip that one.”

“That rules out one, any thoughts on the remaining three?”

“Hmm, I’m going to chance a little magic.  Keep an eye out Spike.”  Twilight ignited her horn and reached for the spell she had cast to track Celestia.  Creating it had been challenging, but once she had identified the necessary search parameters the spell itself was little more than a glorified tracking spell.  It sent out a faint wave of magic and she received a ping when that wave encountered the pattern she was looking for.  Hopefully it would be too faint for Sombra to detect.

With a quick wish for luck, she cast the spell.  The ping responded almost instantly, not surprising considering that magic in its natural state propagated at the speed of light.  It was almost straight down from the center of the spire and equidistant from each door.

“Well that didn’t help.”

“No luck?” Spike asked.

“Celestia’s magic is basically straight down from the center.”  Twilight tapped her chin in thought.  “Let’s take the northernmost door.  It’s the farthest from Sombra’s prison.  Plus, Luna mentioned that Hvergelmir was one of two poles of the world, so it makes sense that it would be as close to the edge of the world as possible.”

“That’s as good a reason as any.” Spike shrugged.  “I’m getting nervous being out in the open like this, so I’d just as soon we pick one and get moving.”

“Alright, north it is.”  Moving forward, Twilight tried to open the door and was somewhat disturbed to find that it swung open at the lightest touch.  “I guess Sombra doesn’t like squeaky doors,” she commented.

“Let’s take it as a good sign.  He’d probably have had to visit Hvergelmir to claim it, and clearly somepony’s been using this pathway.”

“Right. Optimism.”  Twilight strode forward and lit her horn to push back the encroaching gloom.  Before her was a deep spiraling staircase long enough that she couldn’t see the bottom.  “This matches what Luna said.  Come on Spike, we’ve got a lot of walking to do.”

“Right behind you.”  He stepped inside and slowly swung the door shut.  At Twilight’s glance he explained, “I didn’t want anypony coming by to know that this door had been used.”

“Makes sense,” Twilight agreed, though a sense of unease permeated her and set her coat standing on end.  With the door closed the purple glow of her magic threw strange dancing shadows against the walls and she couldn’t help but feel like the walls were closing in on her.

There was nothing to be done for that though, so she turned and began to descend the steps.  The steady four-part thump of her hooves was matched by the two part click of Spike’s claws and settled into a hypnotic rhythm.  Despite the urgency of their task Twilight’s mind began to drift.  A part of her wondered if they had already fallen for some kind of infinite staircase trap and were doomed to continue descending for the rest of their lives without ever getting anywhere.

In the end, it was a mundane need that broke her from her fugue.  Her stomach rumbled and Twilight realized she could really do with a bite to eat before going any further.  She was comforted by the discomfort though.  It served to mark their progress and assure her that they really had been moving forward the whole time.  A glance upward showed no sign of the staircase’s beginning and served to confirm that they had indeed left the surface far behind.

Content with their progress, Twilight called a quick stop for lunch.  Spike didn’t need to eat quite yet, but he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.  A quick alfalfa sandwich from their supplies for Twilight and a few gems for Spike took care of their hunger as they sat on the stairs.  Both leaned against the wall, leery of the empty shaft at the center of the staircase.  After finishing they moved on, a new spring in their step.

Perhaps it was that new spring, or perhaps they had been near the bottom anyway, but after scarcely another hour of walking the stairs ended and they reached a wide open area.  As best they could tell in the flickering light cast by Twilight’s horn, it was empty save for a single wooden door set across the open space from the end of the staircase.

Twilight made a rough guess that the staircase had ended on the northern part of the spiral.  Therefore, the wooden door would lead them south toward the exact center of the crystal spire far above.  That seemed promising.

Moving closer, Twilight saw the light from her horn reflect off of a dark crystal set into a diamond-shaped holder mounted on the top of the doorframe.  It might have been solely for decoration, but somehow Twilight doubted it.  She powered her horn up further in preparation for a diagnostic spell.  Before the spell even had a chance to fire Twilight gasped and canceled out almost all of her magic, dimming even the light until she could barely see.

Noting the sudden change in lighting, Spike came running. “What’s wrong?”

Twilight gagged, coming close to losing the lunch she had so recently eaten.  She sank to the ground, wrapping her hooves around herself with a muttered curse.  “Idiot!  I should have seen this coming.  You remember how magic works?  How unicorns slowly take in natural magic and convert it to their own brand for use?”

“Yeah, but what’s the problem with that?”

“The problem is that is that we’re exceedingly close to Hvergelmir, a source of natural magic that is in the process of being claimed by Sombra.” Twilight pushed herself to her feet.  “As my body takes in new natural magic I also take in his taint, just like when the dragons ate the crystal he’d infected.  I couldn’t feel it earlier because I had used so little magic.”

“So, what, you can’t use magic at all?”  Spike rubbed the back of his head and looked away from her.  “I know you won’t want to, but I can’t help thinking we should turn back.”

Twilight shook her head.  “It’s not quite that bad.  I’m nearly fully charged, as it were, and he only gains ground when I use magic and my body takes in natural magic to refill my stores.  Basically, I’ll have to save everything I’ve got for the confrontation with him.  I was going to keep the magic use to a minimum anyway since he probably has detection spells.  This might even help me blend in and avoid his notice.”

“That sounds to me like you’re just rationalizing the decision to stay,” Spike said.  He moved closer and placed a comforting claw on her trembling shoulder.  “Your one tankful of magic isn’t going to be enough to beat him.  Face it, staying just went from dangerous to actively suicidal.”

“Leaving wouldn’t help,” Twilight said quietly.  “The effect is more obvious because of how close we are to Hvergelmir, but this effect is already spreading.  After a certain point no unicorns will be able to use magic without falling to him completely.  Pegasi will probably go next since they spend magic every time they fly, and earth ponies shortly after that.  Then there’ll be absolutely no hope left.”  She took a deep breath and her face firmed, uncertainty disappearing.  “This bastard killed one of my friends and threatens everypony I care about.  He’s not taking my magic from me too.”

“We go on then?” Spike asked, already resigned to his fate.

“We go on,” Twilight confirmed.

“In that case, if you’re not using magic, then I should take the lead.  I am a little more durable after all.” He patted her shoulder one more time and then stepped past her.

Twilight wanted to object, but the sad truth was that without her magic there wasn’t much she could do.  There was no way of knowing how much corruption it would take for Sombra to begin affecting her, meaning there was no safe amount of magic to use.  Even the light spell was a risk, though on the lowest setting it used such a miniscule amount of magic that the drain was barely detectable.

“Alright,” she said reluctantly.  “You lead.  Be careful though.  Stop the second anything looks strange.”

“Got it.”  They approached the wooden door and Spike grasped the iron ring that served as a handle and swung it open.

A white light blazed out from the open doorway.  The crystal above resonated with a darkness so black it stood out even in the dim cavern and seemed burned into that white light.  Twilight barely had time to process that they’d activated a trap before the wave of magic washed over her.

The world was filled with white mist.  Dazed, Twilight wandered forward.  Her head as stuffed full of cotton as the world around her appeared to be.  Thoughts moved at the speed of molasses and she couldn’t summon the concentration to even reach for her magic.  Taking another step forward the mist began to thin, slightly, though the mist in her head did not.

Another step and her surroundings began to look familiar.  A final step and everything was colored in, though it still wavered as if she had a fever or was seeing everything through a heat wave.

She stood in the royal court at Canterlot.  Nobles filled the room, uncommonly quiet, but she could see hurriedly suppressed smiles of vindictive glee from many of them.  When she attempted to take another step she understood why they were smiling.

Twilight Sparkle was wrapped in the chains of criminal before the Equestrian throne.  Slowly, she raised her eye tracing the carmine carpet up to the dais and the golden throne that stood there.  Hesitantly, she forced her eye that last bit upward and saw Princess Celestia, arrayed in the full raiment of her office.

Even in that predicament Twilight’s heart leapt to see her mentor after so long.  Not even the cold hard face of judgment the princess wore could dampen the ember of hope that had a flamed to life in Twilight’s chest.

“Princess Celestia,” she called out.  “It’s so good to see you.  Please, there must be some mistake with these chains.  We need to catch you up so you can help us figure out how to deal with this situation.”  Twilight reached out with a hoof only to be stopped by the rattle of the chains.

“There is no mistake, Twilight Sparkle.”  There was not an ounce of familiarity or care in the princess’s voice and the sheer disregard readily snuffed out that brief taste of hope.  “You have served your purpose.  Now that Luna has returned I have no further use for you.”

As Princess Celestia spoke, Princess Luna became apparent, seated docilely in a smaller seat one step removed down the dais.

Was she there before? Twilight wondered.  She must have been.  It’s not like she just appeared there, right?

“You’re abandoning me now that Luna is back?” Twilight asked aloud.  There prospect hurt to be sure, but she was mostly just confused.  “That seems strange.”  Something tickled the back of her mind, if only she could think clearly.

“I never cared for you Twilight.  I care only for Luna’s wellbeing.  You were nothing more than a means to an end.”  Celestia was in front of Twilight, though she hadn’t seemed to move.  The trappings of the nobles and the court faded away, replaced by the plush hangings and cushions of the private royal chambers.  They’d spent many hours together there as student and teacher.  Only the presence of Luna differentiated the happy past from the miserable present.  Her, and the chains which still bound Twilight.

“I know,” Twilight said flatly in answer to Celestia’s barb.  “You made that abundantly clear when you abandoned me and Equestria because you thought Luna needed some time without you.

Celestia was caught flatfooted by the response.  She opened her mouth to reply and then stopped and stepped backward, fading into mist.

Once again, the white mist covered everything and Twilight’s mind fuzzed over.

“What was I– Was Celestia here?” she wondered aloud.  She stepped forward and then halted in confusion because it felt too easy, somehow, to walk forward.  “I was wearing something.  Clothes?  Chains?  Ugh, my head.”

Holding a hoof to her aching muddled head, she took another step and saw, with a sense of familiarity she couldn’t quite place, that the mist was lifting.  Another step and the ground turned to solid wood beneath her, with wooden walls rising on all sides.  A final step and it was clear.  She stood in her home, the Golden Oak Library.

“I’m not certain, but I don’t think I’ve been here for a quite a while.”  Speaking aloud seemed to help make things more real, more solid.  “Still, it’s good to see my old friends again.”  She trotted forward, running her hoof along the spines of her books, letting it linger on old favorites and trip lightly over those she loved least.

Before she could truly begin to take comfort from the familiarity, the door banged open and her friends rushed in.

“Twilight, you gotta come quick!” Rainbow Dash shouted, tugging her toward the door.

“Now hold on there sugarcube,” said Applejack, ever the voice of reason.  “She can’t come up with a plan if she don’t know what’s going on.  It’s like this.”  More sounds poured out of Applejack’s mouth, presumably an explanation of the situation, but none of the meaning made its way to Twilight.

At first, Twilight thought it might be a loss of concentration on her part.  She peered closely at Applejack, watching the other pony’s lips move and trying to match sounds to movements to meanings.  Nothing lined up.  As far as she could tell, Applejack was spitting nonsense syllables.

With a glance she confirmed that the others understood all understood what was being said.  They were all nodding along, though Dash was practically jogging in place, so impatient was she to be out the door.  Turning back to Applejack, Twilight almost missed her reversion to actual words.

“So Twi, that’s the sitch.  What do we do?”  The looked at her expectantly, all of them waiting for her to take charge and save the day.

“I’m sorry, girls, I don’t understand.  I don’t know what to do,” Twilight admitted sadly.

“What?” Rainbow Dahs exploded.  “What do you mean you don’t know?  You’re Twilight, knowing’s all your good for!”

“Rainbow Dash!”  Rarity snapped.  “That was uncalled for.  I’m sure Twilight just meant to say she needs to do some research.  Isn’t that right darling?”

“No, it isn’t.  I couldn’t understand Applejack when she explained the problem.  There’s no way for me to plan around something I can’t even comprehend.”

“Gee, Twilight, you’re kinda useless then,” Pinkie Pie said cheerfully.

“Yeah, Twi.  You’ve really let us down,” Applejack said.  “I honestly don’t think I even want to be friends with you anymore.”  Twilight’s head drooped lower as her friends chimed in one after the other to disown her for her failure.

“Now girls,” came a whispery voice practically dripping with pity and condescension.  “It’s not Twilight’s fault she’s let us all down.  I’m sure she didn’t mean to.”

Twilight’s head shot up and she scanned back and forth looking for the pony that had spoken.  It took a moment to spot the other mare, hidden as she was behind Rarity.

“Fluttershy?” Twilight asked incredulously.  “But that’s not possible.  You died.  I know you did.  You died in the Crystal Empire and it was my fault!”

Twilight’s last words came out at a shout and everything around her froze.  Cracks spread across the world around her as it flickered between library and mist.  Pieces of wooden ceiling turned to mist as they fell and poofed into oblivion as they hit the ground.

Everything was shaking and falling and twisting into a vortex and being blown away all at once.  It was all Twilight could do to curl up into a ball and shut her eye to the madness around her.

With one last terrifying rumble the ground fell still.   After a moment, Twilight dared open her eye again.  She found herself back in the room under the crystal spire.  Or, as she immediately realized, she had never left.  The wooden door stood open, but the crystal at its top glowed dark purple and sickly green threaded through with black.

Whimpering sounded from next to her, and Twilight spun in place to see Spike staring unseeing into the doorway.

“How did I get– No!  I don’t want to go.  Please, Twilight, don’t make me leave you behind,” he begged.

Instinctively, Twilight reached for her magic to try to devise a counter to the black enchantment that held Spike prisoner.  Instinctively, too, she recoiled from the taint of Sombra’s magic that had already colored it.  Looking for some other way to help, she was hit by the obvious solution.

Hurrying forward, Twilight put her full weight against the door and slammed it shut.  At once the fell glow faded from the crystal.

Blinking rapidly, Spike shook his head and looked around.  “Where– the Crystal Empire.  But that means…” he trailed off.  Spotting Twilight, he leapt forward and hugged her tightly.  “You’re still here.  I was in Ponyville.  I thought you had sent me back and gone on alone.  But you’re still here!”

“I’m still here, Spike.”  She hugged him back.  “I wouldn’t send you back like that.  Not unless everything were hopeless.”

“Even if it’s hopeless, Twilight, please don’t send me home to die alone,” he begged.

Twilight closed her eye and wished with all her might that she had never had to hear those words from her little brother.  When her eye opened again it was another little bit dimmer, and hope seemed more distant than ever.

“Ok, Spike,” she said with a ragged breath.  “Ok.  No matter how bad it gets I won’t tell you to run and save yourself.  Because you’re right.  That would just be condemning you to a slower death or enslavement.”

“Thank you.”  He broke the hug and stared into her one purple eye with his two green ones.  “Really.  I know it’s a small mercy.  But thank you.”

Not trusting her voice, Twilight merely nodded.

A moment passed in silence, the both of them trying to gather themselves back together.

Hesitantly, Spike asked, “so how do we keep moving?”

A question.  Questions were good, Twilight knew what to do with questions.  “Use your flame on the crystal at the top of the door,” she answered.

“Won’t that tell Sombra that we’re here?” he asked, already moving to do as she’d said.

“We set off the trap.  If that didn’t alert him to our presence, then breaking it shouldn’t either.  If it did alert him then I don’t want to be here when he comes to check it out.  Either way, we need to move on as quickly as possible.”

“Right, one fried crystal coming up.”  Spike stretched himself up to his full length and leaned his arms against the door.  Up on his tip toes his mouth was only about a foot from the crystal.  He opened his mouth wide and a familiar jet of green flame lanced into the crystal.  There was a painful shriek like metal silverware on a ceramic plate.  The sickly green and purple magic oozed out of the crystal and wailed as the dragon flame burned through it.

Spike jumped back as the strange liquid magic dripped down where he had been standing.  Still, he kept his flame pointed at the crystal and after another moment they were rewarded with the painful screech skirling upwards and trailing off.  Spike kept his flame up a moment longer, just to be sure.

“I think that’s enough Spike.”  Twilight waited a moment after his flame cut off to allow time for the door to cool, then trotted forward and cautiously opened it by hoof.  Instead of the bright light from the previous time, they saw a simple opening.  In contrast with the carefully carved staircase and perfectly circular room in which they stood, the corridor in front of them was rough and unpolished.  Jagged edges and rough patches marked the walls and the floor changed from even tile to uncut stone.

“This looks like the way forward,” Twilight said.  “Come on, I have a sneaking suspicion that we’re not too far.”  She entered the passageway and Spike hurried to keep up.

The two walked in silence for a time.  Their steps often sent the pebbles underhoof scuttling forward to clack and bounce unpredictably against the irregular walls.  The air was stale and close, as if no living breath had disturbed it for countless centuries.  Twilight’s dim light spell confused more than it illuminated, making each outcropping of rock seem like a shadow waiting to pounce.

Perhaps to drive away a silence that had become oppressive, or perhaps simply because he genuinely wanted to know that answer, Spike tried to make conversation.  “Since I’m a dragon and nominally immune to most magic, why did that trap back there work on me?”

Twilight was always willing to dispense magical knowledge, even in the direst of circumstances.  “Remember how Sombra captured the other dragons?  When they ate the crystal infused with his magic it counted as inviting him in and their natural defenses didn’t protect them.  You physically opened the door, which I suspect served the same purpose.”

“Okay.  So what did that trap do, anyway?” Spike prodded, unwilling to let the silence come back.  “I mean, I know what I saw, but what was the point of it.

“I think…”  Twilight’s voice faltered and then picked back up.  “I think it was made to immerse us in the world of our worst fears.  And I–“ she broke off again, unwilling to continue.  Spike hurried to fill the gap.

“You don’t have to tell me what you saw.   Going by what I saw it can’t have been pleasant.  But I am curious how you managed to break free of its hold.”

Twilight didn’t answer for so long that Spike feared she was revisiting whatever nightmare she’d been trapped in.  When she did finally speak it was in a small and pained voice.  “That’s just it Spike.  I didn’t exactly break free.  It’s just that my worst fears have already come true.  There was nothing left to torment me with.  Celestia abandoned me for somepony else.  My knowledge and understanding has failed to produce a solution to all this mess.  And when one of my dearest friends was counting on me the most, I failed her as completely as it is possible to fail.”

“Twilight…” Spike moved up next to her and placed a claw on her shoulders.  She shrugged it off.

“No Spike.  There’s no more time for tears or grief or heart-to-hearts.  We have to make a difference.  Now.  And only then do I have the right to grieve.”

Spike stopped walking.  He opened his mouth but the right words just wouldn’t come.  Twilight didn’t look back.  She knew she couldn’t afford to break.

Not yet.

“Come on, Spike.  We’re here.”

The tunnel opened up and the two stood before a vast stone pit.  They had arrived at the bottom of the world, at the wellspring of magic, Hvergelmir.  It was disturbingly brutal just to look at.  Sharp sheer edges marked the rim, and even the well itself was formed from jagged lines cut into the bedrock.  Twilight had always thought of magic as something beautiful and elegant, but the only beauty in this place lay in its primal majesty.  No pony hooves had smoothed the rock below, or tamed it into pathways, or made regular the rough cut oval of the pit.  It had stood uncaring for thousands of years and it would stand uncaring for thousands more.

Twilight let her light spell die.  Hvergelmir emitted its own light.  A stark light that cast no shadows and burned where it touched anything other than stone.  Objects and ponies caught within it seemed painfully real.   Everything it touched was imbued with power and meaning until it became more like the quintessential concept of stone or flesh than the actual living being or nonliving substance.  Yet for all its strength, the light seemed muted.  Approaching the edge and glancing over Twilight immediately understood why.

Hvergelmir was below, casting upwards its light and magic.  But between Twilight and that light were roiling clouds of Sombra’s darkness.  The light could still be seen, yes, like a light spell cast under a velvet cushion, but nothing of its true essence could rise without passing through Sombra’s veil.

Twilight knew immediately, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that should could not counter Sombra’s control of Hvergelmir.  The pit was too wide, the shadow too thick, and even to cast the diagnostic spells she’d need to begin analyzing the problem would strengthen the taint that had already crept inside of her.

Briefly, Twilight considered spending all her life force in a desperate effort to burn away Sombra’s veil.  She couldn’t guarantee that it would work, but nothing else offered any better odds.

“What do we do now?” Spike asked.  His voice snapped through her thoughts and reminded Twilight of her promise.  Would she spend Spike’s life on such an uncertain attack?  Not a chance.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted.  “Give me a little time to think.”  Spike nodded and took a seat, his tough scales finding the rough rock as comfortable as any bed.

The problem, Twilight mused as she settled herself beside the rim, was that she didn’t have enough magic.  Sombra clearly wasn’t consciously maintaining his veil over Hvergelmir, so given enough time and magic Twilight was sure she could eventually devise a counter.  However, once she started using magic, the tainted natural magic around her would take its place and she would soon be under Sombra’s control.

It was certainly ironic that she should find herself short of power while sitting next to one of the two sources of magical power for the entire world.  If Twilight could just reach it, somehow, or bring it to her, she might have a chance.  Idly, not really believing it would work, she started drawing up plans for a magical straw that could poke through Sombra’s veil and slurp up the raw magic beneath.

The straw was as good a plan as any and at the very least designing it took brainpower instead of spending her dwindling supply of untainted magic.  Twilight couldn’t have said how long she sat there designing a spell she suspected would fail.

She was roused from her planning by a massive and familiar magical shockwave.  Though they were too far from the epicenter to feel the physical effect, the release of that much magic in one place sent ripples through the fabric of magic that could pass undiluted all the way to where Twilight and Spike were buried deep underground.  Spike could sense the reverberations as well and raised his head.

“That was a sonic rainboom, right?  The others must be fighting.”

Twilight nodded.  “Yeah, Rainbow Dash is pretty unmistakable.  If she’s still able to pull off a rainboom, then hopefully they’re doing ok for the moment.”

“I sure hope so,” Spike agreed.  A shimmer of light caught his eye and his gaze drifted out over the pit.  “Twilight, quick, look there!”

Turning back to the pit, Twilight saw for herself what had caught Spike’s notice.  Sombra’s veil had thinned and in places was worn through entirely.  The sheer magical power of the rainboom, imbued with Rainbow Dash’s iron will, had pushed back against the dark clouds of Sombra’s veil.  It was not destroyed entirely, and even as Twilight watched she saw it start to knit itself back together, covering the true light of Hvergelmir once more.

Twilight stood, her body moving on its own as if following a predetermined path.  It was obvious to her what she had to do, but she couldn’t let herself face it too clearly or she’d lose the courage to actually follow through.

One step.  Two steps and she stoop at the very precipice.  Spike hadn’t realized she was moving forward.  Maybe it hadn’t quite clicked for him yet, or maybe he was simply too far away.

“Twilight?” he asked hesitantly, reaching out to her.

Twilight turned back for a moment and offered her little brother one last smile.  “I’m sorry,” she said, striving to compress her regrets and her love into those two small insufficient words.

Then she leaned back and let herself fall into Hvergelmir.

“No!” came Spike’s panicked cry.  He leapt for her, his claws desperately reaching out.  Twilight watched his face retreat upward as the air whipped past her body.

Far too soon her body jerked to a halt, embedded in the oily webbing of Sombra’s veil.  It was gauze thin and she could easily see through it to the light below, but it held.  Millimeters stood between her and her goal but those millimeters were enough.  She had missed any of the full holes through and now she was caught in Sombra’s magic.

Angry tears welled up in her eye.  She had come so far, through so much, only to be stymied here.  Desperately, she thrashed her body, trying to break the magic through sheer force of will, to no avail.

Her mage’s blade, called by her anger and her need flashed into being.  She slashed wildly at the veil below her and the blade cut easily through it.  But the blade was too sharp and the cuts too thin.  Each slash she made was reknit before the blade even finished its swing.  It simply wasn’t enough.  She wasn’t going to make it.

An emerald jet of dragonflame flashed next to her and incinerated a pathway through Sombra’s veil.  Twilight whipped her head around and found Spike looking down at her with steely determination.

“I’ll be waiting, Twilight,” he called down to her.  “For as long as it takes for you to return, I’ll be waiting here.”

“I’ll come back.  I promise.”

“I know you will.”

Spike’s faith in her, and the path forward that he had carved gave her the strength to keep fighting.  With a supreme effort she managed to use her mage’s blade to cut back a little give from the pull of the veil.  She rolled, desperate to maintain her momentum.  The oily darkness covered her coat and she felt as if she’d never be clean again, but she didn’t stop pushing herself forward.

It was the longest and tensest minute of Twilight’s life, frantically pushing against the palpable dark magic that held her back.  All to reach the hole formed by Rainbow Dash’s far off rainboom and Spike.

Glancing upwards she could barely make out Spike, so closely did his scales blend with uneven rock face.  Like the dragons of old and like the stone itself he would wait until the end of time if he had to.  He had faith in her and that faith gave her the strength to do what she needed to do.

Twilight Sparkle turned and fell into the light.
> Arc 3 Chapter 6: In the Dreaming
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tumbling through the portal left Luna disoriented.  She struggled to disentangle her limbs from the pony she’d tripped over and check on the others at the same time.  She had a vague sense that there were more ponies present than had come through the portal, but in that first moment she wasn’t sure exactly who or why.

“Why are you here, Rarity?” Rainbow Dash asked again, still staring down at her in confusion.   “Where’s Twilight?”

Luna tried to answer Rainbow Dash.  She knew that they all deserved answers about why Dash had been carrying Rarity instead of Twilight, but she was interrupted before she had the chance to explain.

“FREE!” a gleeful voice roared and set the Dreaming to shaking.  “Free at last and none now shall stop me!”

Luna’s heart sank within her breast.  It seemed her worst fears had been realized.  In bringing Pinkie to the Dreaming she had given Sombra free reign in a new world and doomed them all.

“No!” A second voice growled.  “You are mine and you’ll not escape me.”  There was another rumble and an explosion from far too close rocked Luna before halting unnaturally fast.

Glancing up, Luna saw one of the strangest sights she’d ever encountered.  Sombra was indeed free and materialized.  He stood before her in the flesh, tall and proud with steel armor on his chest and hooves, a plush red coat trimmed with white on his back, and a sharp red horn atop his head.  Dark magic of green and purple colored his eyes and was so powerful that it whipped the air into a froth around him.  His baleful glare was nearly fierce enough to freeze Luna in place even though it wasn’t directed at her.

And he was covered in bright pink glitter.

Luna blinked in disbelief, unable to process exactly what was happening. Sombra growled again and fired a beam the color of dried blood.

It splashed harmlessly against a vibrantly grinning Pinkie Pie.  She licked the droplets from her lips.  “Strawberry!” she exclaimed.  “My favorite of the farm themed berries.”

A blue beam from Sombra followed the red, freezing the ground where it passed.  Pinkie just laughed again.  “And now it’s strawberry ice cream.  It’s so nice of you to make me dessert.  It’s almost enough to make me forget you were such a meanypants.  Almost.”  Pinkie’s grin grew unnaturally wide and took on a frighteningly Pinkamena tint.

Sombra fired again and again, sending magic screaming through the air at Pinkie.  Jagged lightning tore the fabric of the Dreaming apart and flames were sent to burn her away.  Energies more eldritch still shot from the enraged king, all to no effect.  “How are you immune to my magic?” he shouted, having totally forgotten the presence of the others.  “No pony is stronger than I!”

“Maybe it’s because I’m not really here at all.  ~OoooOOooOO~” Pinkie waved her hooves before her as she uttered a ghostly wail.  Then her body began to fade from sight, leaving only her Cheshire grin.  That too faded and Pinkie Pie was nowhere to be seen.  There was a moment’s pause and Sombra twisted from side to side, trying to spot the illusive pony he’d so recently possessed.

“Nope!  I was here after all,” Pinkie chirped, fading back in at the exact same spot she’d vanished from.  “You’re just not doing it right.  Here, let me show you.”  Reaching into the nothing behind her she pulled out a cannon so large that Luna could have sat comfortably in the barrel.  The barrel itself was painted sky blue with sunshine yellow stripes and a bright pink firing seat lay on its back.  A cheerful label written along the barrel in comic sans declared it to be the Party Artillery.

Sombra paled and desperately summoned a dark grey bubble to shield himself.  Pinkie back flipped up into the targeting seat and threw her whole body into turning a crank to lower the cannon until it pointed right at Sombra.

“This is for attacking Equestria!”

BOOM!

A massive cannonball fired from the barrel of the cannon and exploded on Sombra’s shield.  Luna reached for her magic, fearful that Sombra was too close to the others and they would be caught in the blast.  She needn’t have worried.  While the Party Artillery seemed to behave just like an ordinary cannon for Sombra, it merely added party hats to everyone else in range.

“This is for taking over the Crystal Empire!”

BOOM!

Sombra’s shield flickered and Luna could see him gritting his teeth against the blasts.  His hooves were digging into the changing dream-stuff of the ground and each blast pushed him back even further.

“This is for brainwashing Blueblood!”

Tink.

Luna blinked.  That shot had been the size of a marble and hit as hard as a raindrop.

Pinkie shrugged.  “Yeah, I guess no pony really cared about that.  Let’s try again.  This is for brainwashing every pony and griffon and dragon besides Blueblood!”

BOOM!

“This is for setting us all against each other!”

BOOM!

Pinkie’s smile was unnaturally wide, and even as Luna watched her mouth opened and she began to laugh.  It was a pained and agonizing laugh, all sharp edges and broken glass.  A lesson in why Pinkie was the Element of Laughter and not the element of joy.

“This is for kidnapping me and forcing your way into my mind!”

BOOM!

With a sound like a dead tree branch snapping a crack formed in the grey bubble of Sombra’s shield.  He was drenched in sweat and his face contorted with the effort of trying to hold the shield in place.

“And this?  This one’s for Fluttershy!”

BOOM!

Sombra’s shield shattered and he screamed as the feedback lashed at his mind.  Luna watched in satisfaction as he fell to his knees, panting from the exertion, but Pinkie wasn’t quite done.

“Hey Sombra,” she whispered in his ear.  She stood over him, having crossed the intervening distance in an instant.  “What’s that on your forehead?”  Reaching forward, Pinkie took hold of Sombra’s horn and with a single pull yanked it from its rightful place.  “Looks like a carrot to me.”  Slowly, making sure that Sombra could see her, Pinkie lifted Sombra’s horn, which had taken on a decidedly orange tint, to her lips and bit it in two.

“No, not my magic,” Sombra whimpered, crying as Pinkie ground his horn into smaller and smaller pieces.  Luna had an idea what was happening now and, since Pinkie seemed to have the upper hoof, she was willing to let the scene play out.

“Yuck.” Pinkie spit out the sad remains of Sombra’s horn in disgust and peered at him with insincere concern.  “Why Sombra, you look tired.  Here, take a load off.”  She reached forward and, with little apparent effort, removed his right foreleg.  Instead of a spray of blood his skin under the leg was smooth and unmarked, as if he had been born with only three legs.  Sombra, however, had not been expecting it and he couldn’t stay balanced on just three knees.  He fell and his face ground into the dust.  And it was dust for, with a firmness that was uncharacteristic of the Dreaming, it refused to change to something softer to cushion his fall.

“Please,” Sombra whimpered again.

“Hmm? Please what?  Please stop?  That doesn’t sound like fun.”  Pinkie cocked her head and looked at Sombra, taking in his pathetic state.  “You’ve done so many mean things and if I stopped now you’d still have a leg to stand on.”  She darted forward again and before Luna could react all four of Sombra’s legs were neatly stacked in front of him next to the shreds of his horn.

Without legs to stabilize him Sombra was nothing more than a barrel and a head.  He rolled sideways, the side of his head resting on the ground, still breathing heavily.  Pinkie Pie took a long look at his broken form and then nodded, satisfied.

“That’ll do Pinks, that’ll do,” she said to herself.  Then Pinkie took a deep breath and the fight went out of her.  Her hair deflated, falling straight to her shoulders just as it had when she’d been possessed.  She stumbled a few steps away and then collapsed to the ground like a marionette whose strings had been cut.  Lacking even the strength to stand, she shivered and curled in on herself.

No pony quite knew what to do though, characteristically, Rainbow Dash was the first to react.  She galloped over to Pinkie and paused in confusion when the bindings on her wings prevented her from hugging her friend.  She made do with her hooves, wrapping them tight around the trembling pony.  Pinkie clung to her desperately, taking great gulping lungfuls of air.

“It’s ok.  It’s ok,” Rainbow murmured, soothing her with a gentleness Luna had not thought she still possessed.  Seeing Dash like that was enough for Luna to forgive her for forcing them to bring Pinkie along.  Truth be told, she’d forgotten that Pinkie was in the camp and wouldn’t have been able to make her own way to the portal.  Dash’s reminder had been needed, but the threat had been unnecessary.  Armed with the reminder Luna had been loath to leave the poor possessed pony behind as well.

Applejack and Rarity quickly joined in on the group hug, trying to reassure Pinkie with their nearness and warmth.  “It’s alright, sugarcube.  Just breathe.  That’s it.  In and out.  Breathe.”  Steadiness was Applejack’s watchword and it emanated from the very sound of her voice.  “We’ve got you.  You’re safe now.”

“He was inside my head,” Pinkie gulped.  “And I couldn’t– I couldn’t get him out.  He wouldn’t get out and he made say those things to all of you.  I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s wasn’t you darling.”  Rarity rubbed her hoof in circles along Pinkie’s back.  “We know it wasn’t you.  We’re just so glad you’re back.”

As the ponies tried to comfort Pinkie, Sim undulated over to Luna.  “I don’t suppose that that is truly the end of it?”

Luna shook her head.  “There’s no way it will be that easy.  If I had to guess, I’d say that that is just the part of Sombra that was contained in Pinkie’s mind.  Though why it is so fully formed I don’t know.”

“Pity.  Do you think–“

“Are you just going to ignore me, Luna?  I’ll give you a pass for earlier because the pink one put on quite the show, but this is growing ridiculous.”

Sim stopped speaking, nonplussed at being interrupted.    It looked around, clearly sure somepony had just spoke and just as clearly unsure exactly where that pony was.  “I beg your pardon.  I didn’t see you there, Miss?”

It was, Luna thought, rather like trying to avoid catching the eye of somepony staring at you from across a crowded room.  You wait and wait for them to bow to the dictates of politeness and look away, only they don’t.  And looking directly at them or fully away becomes impossible.

On some level, Luna had realized that that pony was present from the second she had crossed through the portal.  After all, they were the pony she had stumbled over immediately after arriving.  However, not until that pony’s name was spoken did the veneer of denial drop and force Luna to fully confront the reality of their presence.

“Nightmare Moon,” she said, and there she was.  Wearing the body of darkest midnight with the slitted green pupils that Luna had worn when she launched her rebellion.  It seemed that here in the Dreaming she was as real as Luna herself.

“Indeed?” asked Sim uncertainly, glancing from Luna to Nightmare Moon.  “In that case I suspect you have some private matters to discuss.  I’ll just excuse myself.”  With unseemly haste and a single fearful backward glance it slithered away, leaving Luna alone with herself.

Nightmare Moon chuckled.  “Cautious, that one.  I’m surprised it’s even here to begin with rather than safely ensconced in some cave in the dragon lands studying the arcana of its being.”

Luna glared at the other alicorn, trying desperately to cover fear with anger.  “No tricks, Nightmare.  Why are you here?”

“I don’t know,” she said, shrugging.  “I had expected to vanish once you opened the portal and revisited the Dreaming personally.  Instead I find myself more corporeal than ever.”  She stretched her wings wide and rolled her neck from side to side, displaying a visceral pleasure in her own physicality.  “And I must say, I am enjoying having a body again, for however long it lasts.”

“I’m not playing games, Nightmare.  I have spent too long fantasizing about killing you to hesitate for long when the opportunity presents itself.”  Luna’s horn lit as she reached for her magic.

“If I had to guess, I’d say that that is precisely why I am here.”  Nightmare pointed at Luna’s glowing horn.  “This is the Dreaming.  You are master here and yet you reach for your magic to put me in my place?  Pathetic.  Ms. Pie, a mortal earth pony, made better use of the Dreaming than you.”

“Magic is all I’ll need to stop you from bringing eternal night,” Luna growled with false bravado.

“Eternal night?”  Nightmare Moon threw back and head and laughed.  “Eternal night!  I don’t care about eternal night.  Don’t you remember where the Nightmare Moon persona came from?”

“Don’t you dare laugh at the princess!”  Sunlit Rooms dashed between the two alicorns and faced down Nightmare Moon, flaring her wings.  “I won’t let you torment her anymore.”

Luna was struck once again by the depth of Sunlit’s care for her.  Despite all its magic Sim had not dared even stand near her while she spoke with her Nightmare, and despite being an ordinary pegasus Sunlit was still willing to come charging in to stand between them.

“It’s alright,” she said, placing a gentle hoof on Sunlit’s trembling but unbowed back.  “We were just talking.  I’ll let you know when it’s time to fight.”

“Do you really want your secretary here for this little chat?”  Nightmare Moon snorted derisively.  “I rather thought you were afraid of others knowing the truth.”

“She has stood by me time and again,” Luna said simply.  “I trust her.”

“Are you sure, princess?” Sunlit Rooms asked, folding her wings back and looking up at Luna.  “If you’re not in danger I don’t want to intrude.”

“I am sure,” Luna said.  “I could use the support of a friend in this.”

Nightmare Moon glared from one to the other, a pained expression on her face.  “So be it.  Now, where were we?  Ah, yes.  Luna, what do you remember of my origin?”

Luna hesitated.  “It was in the Dreaming, I think, but it was so long ago.  And my banishment did my memories no favors.”

“Well, let me help you fill in the details then.  You were jealous of your sister.  I’m sure you remember that much,” Nightmare said.  “So you fled from the real world and made a kingdom of your own within the Dreaming.”

Slowly, Luna nodded as the hazy memories made the long trek down through the centuries to the forefront of her mind.  “Even here, where I was the undisputed master and my will could be made manifest, my temperament was unsuited to ruling.  I was timid and shied away from the weight of the responsibilities I imposed on myself in mimicry of those borne by my sister.  I could not truly imagine myself on the throne.”  Luna hung her head.  “It seems that leadership simply is not in my nature.  I could not even lead in a place born from my own imagination.  Small wonder I did so poorly in the real world.”

“You didn’t, princess,” Sunlit Rooms said firmly, placing a tentative hoof on her side.  “You have made mistakes, yes, but recently you have demonstrated that you are capable of ruling and ruling well, no matter what your self-doubt says.”

“I have the power to rule,” Luna acknowledged.  “But I lack something else, the knowledge, the will, perhaps my very self is simply incompatible with the crown.  I feel that now and I felt it then.  So I imagined a new self that was capable of ruling, and I did so here in the Dreaming where identity is limited only by imagination.”

“You imagined up a self that was confident and strong and wanted to shepherd your subjects as they deserved.”  Nightmare Moon gestured to herself.  “Me.  In the beginning, at least, I was to fulfill the role you felt destined for but unequal to.”

“And in the end playing make-believe here in the Dreaming wasn’t enough for me.”  At the memory of her shame Luna looked away, unable to bear the consoling gaze of Sunlit Rooms.  “I layered that persona over top of my real mind.  I brought it from the Dreaming to the real world.  And in doing so everything went awry.”

Nightmare Moon didn’t respond.  Feeling the need for distance, Luna walked a step away from them both and stared out over the landscape of the Dreaming.  It was superficially similar to the tundra they had left behind in the real world.  However, before the eye could set its sights too far a haze, like that over cobblestones on a hot day, obfuscated the horizon.  Details would change and shift.  What was a patch of grass one moment might be dirt or stone or crystal the next.  Odder changes happened more infrequently.  Even as she looked outward, the ground Luna was standing on briefly changed into a brilliant ruby of impossible size, before changing back into grass.

It was soothing, in a way.  Luna was mistress of a world of change and proof of change was what she most desired at that moment.  She tossed her head in frustration and the amber tips of her ethereal mane floated past her eyes, catching her by surprise just as they always did.  It had been months since she was first granted the mantle of the sun, but in that time Luna had still not gotten used to the change in her mane, that tinge of sunrise that now tinted the tips.  It was undeniable proof that she had achieved what she had so desired long ago: sole dominion over sun and moon and Equestria.

Achieved and persevered, if not excelled.  It could not be said, Luna admitted to herself, that she had ruled well or responsibly in the months since Celestia had left her the throne.  She had not been personally responsible for the apocalypse, though.  And while that was a very low bar to meet, it was the one she had been most concerned about meeting.  Sombra was the threat to the world, not Nightmare Moon, and that would have to be enough.

“I forgive you for Nightmare Moon,” Sunlit Rooms said suddenly.

Luna turned back to the little white pegasus with the sunlight cutie mark.  The smaller pony’s wings twitched with nervous energy, but she met Luna’s gaze with a fervency that startled the princess.

“You committed a crime a very long time ago.  By any reasonable judgement your thousand years of exile is more than sufficient to pay for that crime.  Please, let your guilt for Nightmare Moon go.”  There was a dream-haze, and Luna felt as if she was looking up at Sunlit Rooms instead of down.  For one brief moment she saw achingly familiar purple eyes and a horn to go with those wide white wings.  Then Nightmare Moon spoke and the moment faded.

“It might not count for much, but I agree,” Nightmare Moon put in nervously.  “Don’t get too hung up on what happened between us in the real world.  That’s not what matters now.  In fact, I think it’s holding you back.”

Well wasn’t that the strangest of things.  Her own Nightmare telling her to leave it behind, and a sun-blessed pony offering forgiveness for her sins.  It wasn’t enough to her all that plagued her.  Luna’s guilt could not be so easily expunged.

It could be made quiescent though.  Perhaps she did not need to cling so heavily to her past.  Perhaps she could let it drift from her, just a little.  Perhaps it wouldn’t be wrong to hope that one day the wound left by the Nightmare would truly heal.  It would scar, of course, and she would always remember, but there might come a day when it no longer hurt in quite the same way.

“Alright,” she said aloud.  Luna stepped forward and wrapped a wing around Sunlit Rooms, taking solace in the other pony’s words and warmth.  She turned to look at Nightmare Moon.  “Alright.  I’ll the past where it belongs, for now.  If this isn’t about what you and I once were, then why are you here?”

Nightmare Moon seemed relieved to be getting back on track.  “It’s about the Dreaming.   I was given my life, my consciousness, and now my body by the Dreaming.  I have no relation to the Nightmare Moon you were in the real world.  Rather, I am a reflection of your original intent in the Dreaming.”

“So what does that mean?” Luna asked, frustrated.  “Can you speak plainly for once?”

“I think I’m a message.”  Nightmare Moon shifted uneasily.  “You still haven’t truly reclaimed the Dreaming.   You went for your magic instead of your will when you were about to attack me.  More, I get the feeling there’s something deeper wrong with the Dreaming.  Something that made it spit forth a replica of the only ruler it’s ever known in a desperate plea for help.”

“Fine.”  Luna rubbed tiredly at her face.  “I will accept for the moment that you are not about to try and possess me.  As for the rest of it… I’ll keep an eye out, I guess, but it’s not like we don’t have enough problems to be getting on with.”

“Could Sombra be threatening the Dreaming somehow?” Sunlit Rooms piped up from her place at Luna’s side.

The Nightmare nodded.  “It has to be something like that.  During the stalemate it was all I could do to influence your paintings.  When you found out Sombra had taken over your reinforcements I was able to speak to you, and in fleeing to the Dreaming I received this body.  Whatever the problem is, it’s getting more urgent.”

Of course it was.  One more worry added to the pile.  One more problem she had no idea how to approach or to solve.

“You can use magic and control the Dreaming, correct?” she asked Nightmare Moon.  In answer Nightmare Moon held up a hoof and had it ripple through all the colors of the rainbow.  “Great.  You try and, I don’t know, commune with the Dreaming or something.  See if you can get any more information about this threat.”

Nightmare Moon frowned.  “I really think that you need to reinforce your connection to the Dreaming.  I’m not sure how much I can do.”

Luna removed her wing from Sunlit Rooms and looked over at the other ponies that had joined them in the Dreaming.  “Just see what you can come up with.  I’ll give it a shot if I ever get a spare second.  Right now I need to see if I can get any information out of Pinkie Pie.  She broke free of Sombra somehow and that could be very important.”

“Right, go on then.”

Satisfied, Luna and Sunlit Rooms left Nightmare Moon to her own devices.  They trotted toward where Rainbow Dash, Applejack, and Rarity were still clustered close around Pinkie Pie.  While Luna had spoken to Nightmare Moon they had managed to calm Pinkie slightly.  Nearby, Shining Armor stood guard over the defeated Sombra.  His pink shield bubble was wrapped around Sombra’s unmoving limbless form, likely inverted to prevent egress rather than ingress, and the Captain’s attention was split between the spell and listening to Rarity’s explanation of exactly where Twilight was.

“And that is why I disguised myself as her and she stayed behind,” Rarity concluded as Luna and Sunlit Rooms approached.

“They are caught up?” Luna inquired.

Rarity shrugged from her position in the cuddle pile with one foreleg still wrapped around Pinkie.  “They know what I do, which isn’t much.  Do you need the short version Ms. Rooms?”

Sunlit Rooms shook her head.  “I worked too closely with Twilight in getting the army ready to march to not notice when you made the switch.  I wasn’t that surprised by it either given what Twilight said when we were all together.”

Rarity nodded and then turned her attention back to Luna.  “Princess, do you truly believe Twilight will be alright in the middle of the city with just Spike for protection?”

“I don’t know,” Luna admitted.  “In retrospect perhaps Twilight was right.  Running only gave Sombra more time to take over other ponies, so I can’t help but think that perhaps staying would have been the wiser course of action.  Still, there’s no sense worrying about what can’t be changed.  We need to decide what we’re doing now, and for that I need to ask Pinkie some questions.”

The ponies exchanged looks, clearly still worried for their friend.  “Alright, but be gentle.  The gal’s been through a lot.”

“Of course,” Luna acknowledged Applejack’s warning.  She sat on the ground, near the group of them and spoke softly.  “Pinkie, can you hear me?”

Pinkie’s eyes drifted over to Luna.  They weren’t as vacant as Luna had feared but neither were they as piercing as usual.  She managed a weak nod.

“You just beat the hay out of Sombra,” Luna praised.  Pinkie’s eyes sharpened at that and she gave another nod with a ghost of a smile.  “You pulled a weapon out of nowhere.  How did you know how to do that?”

Pinkie squirmed a little and the girls gave her more space so she could breathe and respond.  “I’ve been here before.  Every night when I sleep I come here.  I’d never have enough time to plan all my parties otherwise.  You change decorations with just a thought so it’s easy to find the perfect mix.”

“You’re a lucid dreamer,” Luna said in sudden understanding.  “I see.”

“I don’t,” Applejack said bluntly.  “Why could Pinkie do all that crazy stuff before?  And I know I’m breaking the number one rule of Pinkie in askin’, but it might be important.”

“This, all of this, is the Dreaming.”  Luna gestured to the landscape all around them.  “You could think of it as Equestria’s dream, the dream of the land itself.  Normally, pony dreams sort of drift on top of it.  It’s a little like foam floating on the surface of a larger bubble.  Sometimes the barrier between the two breaks and the smaller bubble gets absorbed into the larger.  Do you follow me so far?”

“I think so,” Rarity said uncertainly.  “So Pinkie’s bubble melds with the larger one more often?”

“There’s a bit more to it.  I suspect Pinkie is a natural lucid dreamer, somepony who always knows when they’re in a dream and can control it,” Luna added at Rainbow’s look of confusion.  “Sleeping ponies fall into and out of the Dreaming by chance every now and again, but a lucid dreamer can do it on purpose.  I suspect Pinkie did it accidentally as a foal and has been crossing over and controlling the Dreaming ever since.”

“And that’s all it took to beat Sombra?” Rarity asked skeptically.

“This version of Sombra,” Luna corrected.  “The Sombra that was possessing Pinkie Pie.  The real Sombra is still out in the real world possessing everypony else.”  There was little surprise on the faces of the other ponies, only quiet resignation.  They had not truly believed things could end so easily.

Luna refocused on Pinkie, trying to return the gentleness to her voice to soften the blow of the questions she had to ask.  “Pinkie, I need to ask you some more questions.  Questions about Sombra.  Do you think you can answer me?”

“If it’ll help, I’ll do it,” Pinkie said, her voice stubborn but very small.

“Thank you Pinkie.  You’ve already done a great deal, and now I just have to ask a little bit more.  I need you to tell me how Sombra possessed you.”

Pinkie shuddered and did not speak for the longest time.  Luna feared she’d pushed the other pony too far.  She had nearly given up on getting a response when Pinkie hesitantly opened her mouth and tried to force out a few words.

“It- it was when I was captured.  By the griffons.  The first time I mean.  I had been wandering around and you all told me not to and I didn’t listen and I should have listened.”  She clamped her mouth shut so hard her teeth clicked, cutting off her babbling.

“Take your time, Pinkie,” Luna coached.  “There’s no hurry.  We have as much time as you need.  When you feel ready, please, tell me what happened after you were captured.”

Pinkie drew in a ragged breath and kept going.  “They brought me back to their camp and give me these weird plants that made me so sleepy.  I slept normally and when I woke up the next morning they seemed really angry.  They gave me more plants and had griffons pinching and prodding me the whole next night so I wouldn’t sleep.  On the third night they finally let me rest and when I woke up he had me.”  Pinkie whimpered and fell silent.

“The plants were probably just normal relaxants meant to loosen your natural mental defenses,” Luna hypothesized.  “But when you fell asleep you just came to the Dreaming and he couldn’t reach you.  Then they must have made sure you were too tired to have dreams so that the plants could take effect.”

“So, what, if any of us were fed those plants Sombra could take control of us?” Rainbow asked.

“I think so,” Luna answered.  “That’s probably how he forced the griffons to join him.  He converted a few willingly and then those griffons drugged the others to make them vulnerable to Sombra.  And it would have been risky to do that to the ponies because he knew I was using my immortal sight regularly and would have noticed if tainted ponies were wandering around our camp.”

“I guess you looking for your sister actually ended up protecting the camp,” Sunlit Rooms said.

“So inadvertently that I don’t think I deserve any credit for it, but yes.”  Luna focused back on Pinkie.  “I’m sorry you went through that, Pinkie, and I’m sorry I have to ask you more, but I need a few more answers from you.  Please, what did being possessed feel like?”

Luna tried to couch the question in as delicate language as possible, but no matter the gentleness she was still prodding a raw wound, and she knew it.  This was the best chance they’d had to understand how Sombra was performing these possessions and Luna couldn’t afford let it pass, even to spare Pinkie the pain of remembrance.

“It hurt.” she whimpered again.  “It was like my mind was split in two.  Half of me woke up and I couldn’t move.  But my body moved.  I had to watch and feel as Sombra woke up and stretched.  Feel as he moved and talked and ate and drank in my skin.”  Her trembling had returned, almost as bad as it had been immediately after she had beaten Sombra.  The others moved closer, trying to reassure her, but Pinkie had drifted beyond their reach.

“Surely that’s enough, Princess.  Can’t you see its hurting her?” Rarity pleaded.

“And the other half Pinkie?” Luna asked implacably.

“I was somewhere else.  Like a dream, but it hurt.  I’d see things that weren’t real.  I watch a rock falling toward my friends and not be able to move or scream.  Then suddenly I’d be drowning in an ocean of frosting or watching everypony cry when I told a joke instead of laughing.  The only thing that stayed the same was the pit in my tummy.  An ache of pain and fear and terror and confusion.”

“A nightmare,” Luna spoke in tones of dawning realization.  “You were trapped in a nightmare.  But you didn’t recognize it because as a lucid dreamer you’ve never had one before.  And that’s why you could act against his will sometimes, because of your practice in controlling your dreams.”

Luna turned away, her mind whirling.  Dreams were the answer to how Sombra dealt with the ponies he controlled.  He placed them in dreams, blissful fantasies to those that came willingly, and unending nightmares to those that did not.  Meanwhile, he kept just enough of their consciousness around to pilot the body and maintain the normal processes of the pony in question.  After all, the griffon’s he’d taken over had still known how to fly despite Sombra’s lack of wings.

That still left questions, of course.  Even Luna herself would be hard pressed to force a certain type of dream upon a pony, and she could never have done it for so many or at so far a distance.  There were still pieces of this puzzle missing.  Fortunately, there was one more source of information she could plumb the depths of.

“Princess Luna, are you alright?” Rarity asked, snapping Luna back to the present.

“Yes, yes I’m fine.  Thank you, Pinkie, thank you so much for being brave.  What you just told me was very important.  Rest now, and try to let the love of your friends soothe your pain.”  Luna was pleased to see the other ponies hold Pinkie all the tighter at her words.  Sunlit Rooms kneeled close by, offering what comfort she could.  Even Pinkie herself looked a little stronger for having spoken, as though the venom had been drawn from her wound.

Rising, Luna let the pleasant expression fall from her face as she stalked toward where Captain Shining Armor stood guard over Sombra.  As she neared, she saw that Shining Armor was watching the mares with a curious expression on his face.  Luna couldn’t quite read it, but she could make out a kind of sorrowful tenderness.  It seemed out of place in the normally stoic captain and Luna spared a moment out of concern.

“Bit for your thoughts Captain?” she asked.

He shrugged helplessly.  “Pinkie reminds me of my wife.  They have the same coat color, I think, and Cadance was always beaming a smile out to the world.  She likes to say that it’s her job to spread love everywhere she goes.”

“You must miss her very much,” Luna commented.

“I thought about bringing her,” Shining Armor admitted.  Behind him a silhouette, long limbed, graceful, and tinged with pink flickered into life for a brief instant before fading back out.  Shining Armor continued none the wiser.  “After all, there is precedent for the commander’s wife accompanying him on campaign.  But we had recently learned that she was with foal and I didn’t want to risk her on the rigors of living in a military camp.  After seeing what happened to Pinkie, what might happen to all of us, I’m glad she’s in Canterlot.”

“This is no place for civilians,” Luna agreed.  “A part of me regrets not protesting the inclusion of Twilight’s friends.  Perhaps the Elements of Harmony would have been useful, but with Fluttershy’s death those four are now merely innocents in over their heads.”

Shining Armor’s eyes focused on Luna for the first time in the conversation, catching her by surprise with their intensity.  “Yet they are here.  Though my whole army is gone into enchanted slumber those four remain and carry on.  And perhaps Twilight is doing something to help our cause as well, wherever in that cursed city she might be.”

Luna let her gaze follow the ground to the hazy horizon, past which lay the city where Twilight and Spike fought alone.  She turned and looked the other way to where she had hoped to fight a victorious battle until her forces had been turned against her.  “Strength of arms would not have won the day.  Caught between Sombra’s army and our own stolen reinforcements we all would have died.  We’re counting on a miracle now Captain, though I cannot say from whence it will come.  It might be those four, or Twilight, or you, or even me. They have made miracles before, brought me back to myself, and that is as good a reason as any to have them here, despite my regrets.”

Shining Armor shook his head, then winced and raised his hoof to his horn.  “I’m sure you are right Princess.  Forgive me for troubling you with my worries when there are so many more urgent problems.”

“No, Captain, I am glad to offer you an ear.”  Luna placed a comforting hoof on his shoulder.  She could feel him trembling from weariness, but she could feel, too, how he rallied at her touch.  “After the manner of dreams, time in this place passes as fast or as slow as it needs to.  We have all the time in the world, so if there is anything that you need to say, please, speak.”

Shining Armor took a deep breath and looked at her straight on.  Desperation and faith warred with one another and settled into fatalistic serenity.  “There will be no miracles from me, I don’t think.  I will follow your commands and fight at your side, but I’ve come to the ends of my strength and I know it.  I want to go home, Princess.  I want to kiss my wife and meet my son or daughter.  I want to introduce them to their aunt and reintroduce her to our family.  I had thought those small and reasonable dreams.  Now, though?  Now they seem impossibly far away, beyond any strength I could muster.  And so I place my trust in you.  My liege, please, bring us home.”

Luna felt Shining Armor’s regard settle on her brow with all the weight of a crown.  Gazing at him she saw a pony pushed past his limits.  Perhaps it had been the injury, shielding all his soldiers at once, or perhaps it had been the shock of losing Twilight just when he thought they’d completed their great escape.  Perhaps it had been the loss of the army of which he was captain.  Regardless, somewhere along the way her brave Captain of the Royal Guard had broken.  Now he was counting on her for deliverance.

At that moment, for the first time in her long life, Luna understood what it meant to rule.  Always before there had been another that she could turn to and depend on.  First it had been her sister, and then more recently Twilight Sparkle.  Now all the responsibility lay with her.  There would be no pony to fix her mistakes, to succeed if she failed.  Shining Armor was counting on her and her alone.  It was her duty as princess to answer the need of this one subject.

The obligation was heavy.  It was, in many ways, what she had craved and feared all at once.  It was what she had demanded from her sister all those months ago, just before Celestia had left.  She had her task and if she succeeded should would have earned her position as princess, at least in her own eyes.  And yet the weight of it made her wonder if what she’d desired was truly something worth seeking, or if it was something that she could carry now that she’d found it.

Despite her uncertainty, Captain Armor deserved an answer.  Reaching for a strength she was not sure she possessed, Luna spoke.  “I will bring you home Captain.  I promise that you will see your family again.”  She had no way to keep that promise, of course, and both Luna and Shining Armor knew it.  But the simply act of making that promise had the capacity to reassure and Shining Armor accepted that with gratitude.

“Thank you, Princess,” he said simply.

As they had spoken, Nightmare Moon had neared, watching the emotions that roiled Luna’s face with uncanny insight.  “You begin to understand, Luna.”

“Yes,” Luna said.  “I think I finally am beginning to.  You’ve made no progress with the Dreaming, I suppose?”

“Naturally.”

“Fine.  You can stay then, and see if you notice anything that I do not.  Now, Shining Armor, please remove your shield.  I need to see what information I can extract from our captive.”

Shining Armor saluted.  The emotion he’d displayed retreating behind the familiar soldier’s mask.  With another wince he focused and slowly reabsorbed the magic he had expended in containing the prostrate Sombra.

Groaning with the effort, Sombra raised his head to glare at Luna.  “You’ve won. Congratulations.  Will you bring me to Canterlot to stand trial or just kill me right here?”

Even had she not already known better, the casual arrogance in Sombra’s voice would have raised her suspicions.  There was something lacking in it though.  Far from the poisoned honey of his previous speech his voice was rough and grating.

“I am not so foolish as to believe that, Sombra,” Luna said.  “I’m sure this is just the small part of yourself that was within Pinkie Pie.”

Like flipping a switch, Sombra discarded his mournful aspect, though the pain he had suffered at Pinkie’s hooves was clearly still present.  “If you know that much then you know that your position is just as hopeless as it was before.  Have you given any thought to accepting my offer and surrendering?”

“Which offer would that be?” Luna asked acidly.  “Your offer to let me live as a lotus-eater, forever trapped in a blissful daze?  Or your offer to take the burden of my position and let me live out a brief mortal life?”

“Either, of course.  I can be generous to those that cease their wasteful opposition.”  Sombra shifted, unconsciously trying to look down his nose at her and nearly falling over without his limbs to balance him.  Watching him wobble in place was almost comical and neatly killed any fear Luna had of him, or of this particular incarnation anyway.

“You couldn’t, actually,” she corrected.  “Take me over, I mean.  Thanks to Pinkie I know a little more about how your possession works, where you send the minds of the hosts, and I can confidently say that it would not work on me.”

It was true.  If the hosts were indeed sent into a nightmare or a blissful dream, then it was impossible for Sombra to control her since, as the ruler of the Dreaming, she was always in control of her dreams.

“As to your other offer,” she said in a wondering tone.  “It doesn’t tempt me any longer.  Somewhere along the way winning praise and love as somepony I am not lost its appeal.  I suppose I should thank you for that.  I doubt it would have happened as quickly had I not been forced to deal with you.”

“Keep your thanks,” Sombra spat, once more jarring Luna’s expectations.  She had thought he would smoothly accept her thanks and parlay that into a claim about everything he could offer her.  Instead, he was simply lashing out in anger.  “I can break that hard-won self-acceptance with a single phrase.  This is all your fault.  All that I’ve done was possible because of you!”

“Is this some kind of metaphorical nonsense?” Luna asked angrily.  “Leaders always create their own rebellions or some such stupidity.”

Sombra actually laughed at that.  “Nothing of the kind.  Do you remember what you did to me, Princess?  You came to my prison and were tempted by my whispers.  And then the mantle of the sun fell upon you and what did you do?”

“I bound you,” Luna snarled.  “I wrapped you in that burning cocoon so tightly that you should never have broken free.”

“Oh you did.  It burns my body still with the flame and the light of the sun.  Can you imagine that constant agony?”  Luna involuntarily shivered and Sombra caught it.  “Yes I guess you of all ponies can imagine what chains of sunlight might feel like.  The moon can’t have been a comfortable place to be entombed.  Anyway, here’s the thing.  Haven’t you heard that old saying ‘the closer you get to the light, the greater your shadow becomes’?”

“No,” Luna whispered, horror dawning in her eyes.

“Yes,” came Sombra’s vindictive whisper.  “You wrapped me in the light of the sun and it let me send my shadows slithering across the land.  Whispering into this ear and that until ponies began to fall under my sway.  At last I could place myself within them, linking one host to another until my tortured body was simply one small node in a web spanning a country.”

The revelation hurt Luna less than she might have thought it would.  Perhaps because it changed nothing about their situation and what she had to do.  Sombra was her responsibility, whether or not it was her fault that he had gained the strength to be a threat in the first place.  Far more interesting to her was the concept of Sombra’s web of shadows connecting all the ponies he’d possessed.  She was at the cusp of understanding everything.  She just needed one more piece.  Luna needed Sombra to keep speaking, and for that Sombra needed to believe his words were hurting her.

“It’s not possible,” cried Luna.  “It was a prison powered by the sun.  There’s no way you could co-opt that power.  It’s not my fault.  It’s not my fault you hurt my subjects!”

Nightmare Moon was looking at her strangely.  Perhaps she was overselling it, but, if so, Sombra was too caught up in relishing his barbs to notice.

“It is your fault,” he hissed.  “It’s your fault I forced my mind onto the minds of so many of your subjects.  And each subject I claimed added to my strength and my wisdom.  I have the brainpower and the magic of thousands of ponies and it’s all thanks to you.”

That was it.  That was the key Luna needed, she could feel it.  Sombra’s voiced faded to a distant annoying buzz as all her thoughts focused on the puzzle.  He was using a network of the minds of the ponies he possessed.  To do that they had to be connected in some way.  Those minds were pushed into dreams so that Sombra could control them.  He had some kind of a connection between dreaming minds.

Luna felt a chill as she raised her eyes to Nightmare Moon.  Nightmare Moon who had been trying to tell her for six months with increasing urgency that something was awry in the dreaming.  Luna reached within for her immortal sight, dreading what she would see.

The magic, faithful as ever, came to her call.  Her eyes glowed a brilliant white as the magic suffused them and she looked. Sombra was a dark pool of shadow, a living oil stain that rippled and writhed as she watched, dirtying the ground with its mere presence.  That much she had expected.

As she raised her eyes she saw proof positive that she had guessed correctly.  Tendrils of darkness were strung throughout the Dreaming.  Far to the north, in a cruel parody of sunrise, rose an orb of dark threads with rays emanating in all directions.  They crested high above and crashed down into the landscape, sunbeams that brought only cold and dark.  Strung together so tightly they blotted out the sky.  And each thread represented a pony under Sombra’s control.

Luna nearly despaired at the sight of his strength laid out so indisputably.  He had at his disposal the wits and the strengths of thousands of ponies, dragons, and griffons, guided by a single implacable amoral intelligence.  And what did she have?  Six ponies, two of them broken, one outcast griffon, three dragons, and a manifestation of her own most hated self.  How could she win this battle?

No, that was the wrong way to think of this, Luna knew.  She had found a weakness, no matter how it masqueraded as a strength.  As proof, the Sombra captured here was cut off from the network, and it was for that reason he had been weak enough to be beaten by Pinkie and had been stupid enough to fall for Luna’s simple acting.

His control of his puppets relied on the Dreaming and the Dreaming was, or should have been, hers.  Which meant that there was only one thing to do.

Luna abruptly strode away from Sombra, ignoring his strident protests.  “Replace the shield,” she called over her shoulder to Shining Armor, trusting that he could and would comply.

She approached the dragons who were observing the proceedings with varying levels of interest.  “Is there anything you three wish to tell me?” she asked brusquely.

Sim cocked its head.  “Is there some reason to think there would be?”

“I’ve had important conversations with everypony else,” Luna pointed out.  “It seemed worth checking in.”

Thraxus grunted.  “Ponies talk too much.  Unlike most dragons.”  He threw a look at Sim.  “There is a foe worth fighting, so we will fight.”

Iolite nodded.  “Plus my son is somewhere out there with the pony he calls sister.  I trusted him when he said he had something important to do, but that doesn’t mean I’ll object to going back for him.”

“As they say, we are at your command for the duration of this conflict.”  Sim bowed, then continued much more informally.  “My curiosity would never forgive me for missing the conclusion.”

Luna spared a small smile for the dragons.  If only every interaction could be so straightforward.   Then she turned and raised her voice so everypony could hear her.

“Subjects, gather before me!”

Gather they did, though it was a slow process.  Shining Armor had to drag the bubble containing Sombra along with him and it took several moments for the ponies to get Pinkie Pie up and moving.  When they all stood before her, Luna spoke again.

“Thanks to all of your help, I finally understand how Sombra is controlling everypony.  He first gains control of a pony, either willingly or by weakening their mental defenses and then forcibly taking them over.  When he has control he forms a copy of his own mind in them and displaces their mind to a dream, keeping enough to preserve any information or special skills they have.  All those versions of Sombra in his thralls are linked through the Dreaming to form a single hive mind.”

“So if we kill the original Sombra will that deal with all the others?” Rainbow Dash shouted out.

Luna shook her head.  “No.  As the Sombra that Pinkie Pie defeated shows, the Sombra’s in each pony are complete beings capable of running the network on their own.  His original body is powerful and the center of the network, but so many connections have been made that I doubt it’s essential anymore.”

“Fascinating!” Sim said.  “What an ingenious way of achieving permanence.  You’d need to either kill every pony he’s possessed or excise him from every mind simultaneously to actually kill him.”  It noted that everyone else was glaring at it and its enthusiasm for dimmed.  “Not that we should kill everypony that’s possessed.  That would be genocide.  Which is bad.”

“Yes, Sim, genocide is bad.  Thank you for that contribution.  If you have any more useful magical ideas, I will listen to them as we travel.”  Luna rolled her eyes and then turned her attention back to the group at large.  “Despite his strength, I believe I have found a way to deal a serious blow to Sombra.  It will not defeat him, but it will open up new avenues of attack.  I’ll explain the details on the way.  For now, know that we must travel back to the Crystal Empire to face Sombra in his seat of power.”

Luna paused and surveyed the gathered beings.  She had expected protests.  Instead, there were nods all around, as if no pony had expected anything else.

“If anypony does not wish to return to that danger, they are welcome to stay here in this safe part of the Dreaming.  I can see to your comfort and will return for you if we are victorious.  If we are not, then, for what it’s worth, you’ll be the only free pony alive.”  No pony responded to Luna’s offer.  If anything, the stubbornness in each face grew firmer.  Still, Luna felt compelled to make more concrete attempts at letting go those who did not feel up to fighting.

“Shining Armor, what about you?” she asked delicately.  “I know your wound is troubling you.  No pony would think less of you for sitting this one out.”

He pointed north and simply said, “my sister is there.”

Luna turned to Pinkie.  “What about you, Pinkie Pie?  After what you’ve been through surely you would prefer to rest in safety.”

Pinkie had stopped shivering but her whole body still drooped, upright only due to the friends on either side.  Her voice, when it came, was small, with just a tiny spark of its usual flair.  That spark would have to be enough.  “I don’t want to be alone.  And I don’t want to wonder if there was something I could have done.”

Luna looked each pony, griffon, and dragon in the eye in turn, giving them one last chance to back out of what was very likely a suicide mission.  None moved and none spoke

“So be it,” she said.  “Now there is one last task before we depart.”  She strode forward and stood beside the bubble containing Sombra.  “Shining Armor, if you would?”

Without a word of complaint at dismantling the bubble he had so recently put back up, Shining Armor lowered the shield.  Sombra glared up at all of them, the ferocity of his gaze should have driven them back, but no pony would give him that satisfaction, not even Pinkie who had more right to be afraid than most.

“Sombra,” Luna intoned.  “You asked if I would bring you to Canterlot to stand trial.  That is not necessary.  As Princess of Equestria, I accuse you of crimes against equinity.  As Princess, I find you guilty.  As Princess, I sentence you to death.  And as Princess, I will carry out your sentence forthwith.”

“What? No. No!”  Fear entered Sombra’s eyes and Luna was not so noble as to pretend that she did not enjoy seeing it there.  She paid his pleas no mind.

Luna, master of the Dreaming, reached out not with magic, but with pure will.  She immersed herself in the very fabric of the Dreaming, nestling into it like a perfectly broken in old coat.  Then, with a groan of effort and the pain of an unused muscle, she willed the Dreaming to swallow Sombra.

A roar of shifting earth drowned out Sombra’s pleading.  As if the ground had turned to water upon the sea, a wave of dirt rose up and crested high above Sombra.  He craned his head back watching with terror as the shadow of the dirt covered him.  He leaned back too far and lost his balance, falling supine before the wave.

With a last grunt of effort, Luna’s will brought the wave crashing down.  It slammed into Sombra and crushed his body beneath the rock.  Then the ground smoothed itself back out and no trace of their dark foe remained.  A sigh ran through the gathered beings.  The absence of Sombra’s looming presence was a palpable relief, though so much weight still remained on their shoulders.

Still, one and all they stood a little straighter, held their heads a little higher.  This Sombra, small piece though he was, had been slain, and that gave them hope.

Luna allowed them all a moment to take strength from this victory.  She met Nightmare Moon’s eyes and accepted the approving nod in the spirit in which it was meant.

At last, Luna broke the silence.  “Come, my friends and allies.  The true battle awaits us back in the Crystal Empire.”
> Arc 3 Chapter 7: A Long Overdue Conversation
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight fell.

Twilight fell through light so profound it pressed upon all senses at once.  It echoed in her ears like the airiest of flutes and the heaviest of basses.  It slid along her skin, caressing her like a lover.  Light filled her nose and mouth with a burning flame and just a hint of citrus.  Twilight, in her writhing and falling, tripped the light fantastic.

It was pervasive and invasive and had it not been so ferociously kind it would have been painful beyond Twilight’s power to bear.  She was cradled in the embrace of the light.  Twilight had always loved magic and now she knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that magic returned her love.

Twilight was falling and falling and she was…

She was an earth pony colt, discovering her cutie mark in carpentry.  Her – his?–, hooves sparkling like the crystals of his city.  And why should that surprise him?  The crystal ponies’ scintillating coats gave the Crystal Empire its name.  He fell in love with the filly next door, an artist.  They created together.  Sculptures from her and barrels from him, working together for beauty and bits.  Their greatest creation would have been their child.  Instead she died giving birth to a stillborn foal.  He drowned his sorrows in the liquid in his barrels and drowned himself in the city’s river, desolate.  And he was falling…

And Twilight was falling.

And she remembered.  She remembered falling in love with that beautiful mare and their days of happiness. She knew that she could cut a set of staves and bind them into a barrel in a single try, though she’d never even seen a cooper’s tools.  More, Twilight remembered that joy turning to ash in a single terrible day.  She remembered a grief of a magnitude she could scarcely comprehend.  Before she could even begin to process a lifetime of memories she was falling…

She was an operatic singer, trained intensely from an early age to master her voice as her instrument.  She sang in the greatest cities of the world, before the Princesses themselves.  Music was her lifeblood, but she had a secret passion for her garden.  No pony ever knew for she was ashamed to love something other than her music.  She died in a hospital room, her voice stolen by illness and without a trace of greenery in sight.  And she was falling…

And somepony was falling.

It was Twilight Sparkle, she thought, though she was not sure.  The memories of three lives crowded her mind, pushing the life she thought had originally been hers to the sides.  Had she spent fifty years raising a bonsai tree from a seed?  No, that had been the second memory, she thought.  It wasn’t clear.  Her own life wasn’t clear.  And she was still falling…

She was a unicorn colt with a dark grey coat and a silky black mane.  He studied magic intensively, obsessively.  Magic of the mind drew his attention and he pushed every pony in his life away in pursuit of it.  He experimented, on his own mind and on other ponies, expanding his expertise.  He devised a way to force his mind overtop of another’s mind, to control them and duplicate himself.  He planned the first use of this magic on his own parents, and as he restrained them and powered up his horn for the spell, he was standing…

But he was still falling.  No.  She.  She was still falling.  She – Twilight Sparkle? – thought there was something important in that last set of memories.  Something that would have mattered to who she once had been.  But it was so hard to remember which life that was.  The memories, the lives, wouldn’t stop coming and she was still falling.

She was a dancer.  He was an artist.  She gave up her dreams to be a mother.  He relished the chance to stay home with his children.  She raised up buildings and city streets.  He was a murderer stalking those streets with ill intent.  She lived to old age and cursed each moment that passed.  He died as a foal and loved life so fiercely.  And they were all falling.

And she was falling.

The lives came in a flurry and left her with lifetimes of memories.  No time to process or form some cohesive whole.  No anchors for the pony she once had been to hold on to.  There was so much life, so much experience.  Dimly, she thought she would have loved to know so many ponies so intimately, if it had only come in a manageable fashion.  Instead, she was drowning in an ocean of experience.

She was falling.

Suddenly, mercifully, and with no transition whatsoever, she was standing.  She opened her eyes and stared at her hooves.  Purple.  She was purple and female and she had been falling.  That ruled out most of her memories.  There had been that one filly who wandered too far from home and fell into a crevasse.  But no, that sequence of memories ended with the ground rushing up far too quickly.

Who was she?

She was the pony with the dragon for a brother.  Archmage. Companion to the princesses.  Element of Magic.  She was Twilight Sparkle.

As if in confirmation, a warm white wing wrapped her in a firm embrace.  The faint scent of sunflowers evoked a memory of maternal love.  The voice that spoke soothed her with that same love.

“It’s alright, Twilight Sparkle.  Take your time.  You are safe here.  I’m so proud of you for making it this far.”  The words continued, the meaning unimportant but the caring tone a balm on Twilight’s ragged soul.

It was sufficient to help her hold fast against the memories.  They were not gone.  Like waves they still frothed and crashed against her mind, held at bay by the dike the other pony’s presence had built.

Slowly, carefully, Twilight rallied herself until she was confident enough to raise her head, and look up at the pony that held her.

Smiling beatifically down at Twilight was Princess Celestia.

“My faithful student,” Princess Celestia murmured warmly.  “I never imagined you would find me.  Hoped, yes, but I thought the journey to saving me from my own folly too far, even for you.”

Disbelieving, Twilight’s head swung this way and that, peering at her surroundings.  The two ponies stood in a colorful void.  Under their hooves was a teal river of stars, firm to the touch.  Above sparkled yet more stars, some so close Twilight could see the roundness of the shining spheres.

Except she shouldn’t have been able to perceive the roundness, not with the poor depth perception of her one eye.  Slowly, wonderingly, she raised a hoof to her face and in place of a ruined socket she found her right eye whole once more.

“What is this place?” she asked in disbelief.

“This is the plane of magic and ascension,” Princess Celestia answered.  “All the immortals have passed through this place in their own time.”

“Then I’m here because-“ Twilight didn’t even dare finish the thought.

“Yes, Twilight,” Princess Celestia said gently.  “You are on the cusp of ascension.  You are also very near to madness or possession, and an alicorn afflicted by either is a terrifying thought.  Come and sit.  Fortunately, we have some time to talk it through.”

Princess Celestia led Twilight to a low wooden table that had certainly not been there a moment before.  Two plush red cushions sat directly on the stars that made up the floor on either side of the table, and Princess Celestia settled Twilight’s still-dazed form on one before sinking into the opposite with a sigh.  Two steaming cups of tea appeared on the table and Twilight watched as the princess brought hers to her face and savored the rich aroma.

Only after Celestia had sipped her tea did Twilight bring her own cup to her lips. The flavor was reminiscent of the magic through which she had fallen but milder, bright and citrusy without being overwhelming.  Each sip sent warmth and strength flowing through Twilight’s tired limbs.

They didn’t speak as they drank.  They should have.  There was so much to discuss, so many questions Twilight wanted – needed – to ask, answers she should have demanded.  But she held her peace and drank.  No, rather, she clung to what peace that place had to offer and gripped her teacup like a life raft.  Slowly, through her repeated sips the raft drifted toward shore and Twilight’s hooves steadied as she rediscovered herself.

Two mares alone against an infinite starscape.  It should have felt alien.  Instead, each motion felt imbued with ritual formed through hundreds of repetitions.  Twilight could see flickers of the past moments that echoed this moment.  So many days in Princess Celestia’s study, taking tea after lessons were done.  The rare beautiful afternoons when the fair sky had called them to sit outside.  And always, always, the constant of each other’s company.

Twilight couldn’t yet know, but she wondered if Princess Celestia was recalling those moments as well.  Or did the thousands of years she’d lived render her time with Twilight unremarkable?

Unbidden, memories of other tea times, as other ponies, rose through her mind.  She had those same thousands of years, she realized.  Maybe not as the same pony, but those memories felt real and personal nonetheless.  Despite their sheer quantity, the emotion released by taking tea with a loved one was undiminished.

And she did love Princess Celestia.  Twilight hadn’t been sure her love still held true until she had seen the other pony.  The princess has raised her, uplifted her from a foal trapped in magic run wild into a mare who knew her own power.  More, the princess had loved her, had comforted her boo-boos and hung her spell diagrams on the refrigerator. It had been the princess who listened when she’d made her first friends and the princess who cautioned against shutting those friends out in favor of study.  Finally, and most importantly, it had been Princess Celestia who had sent her to Ponyville to meet the greatest friends any pony could ask for.

Now maybe Celestia had torn her away from a loving family.  Maybe she had used magic to alter Twilight’s brain and force her to forget her family.  But that was just the thing; she had no memories of that other family, of what might have been taken from her.  Instead, she remembered only the love of Princess Celestia.  That love filled her, resonating with her anger and her pain to crystallize in a feeling that had no easy name, but was somehow a gestalt of all three.

Princess Celestia lowered her teacup and smiled.  “Now, Twilight, I imagine you must have questions.”

Under other circumstances Twilight would have thought carefully and reasonably about the best questions to ask and how to get the most from their conversation.  Instead, her question arose from that gestalt of emotions.  She looked up, eyes wide and teary and wasn’t that a wonder in and of itself.

“Why did you abandon me?” she asked with the guileless tone of an injured child.  At once she clapped her hooves over her mouth, as if to capture the words before they could escape.  To no avail.  The words sat as heavy on the table between them as the beating heart torn from her own breast.  It rested on a plate like a biscuit for Princess Celestia to devour or decline at her leisure, and Twilight couldn’t have said just which she hoped for.

“No, wait,” she said, hastily trying to stuff her heart back into its proper place.  “Wait.  There are more important questions.  Like, how can we get you back your body?  Or, how can we defeat Sombra?  Please, answer one of those.”

Princess Celestia sipped her tea as Twilight waited with baited breath for her response.  It seemed to last an eternity.  Twilight was sure she had several life times of memories that were shorter than the moments it took for Princess Celestia to finish her sip and replace her teacup on the saucer.  The wait felt so long to Twilight that when Princess Celestia actually did speak it caught her by surprise.

“There are other questions you could ask, but I think that’s the one you want answered more than any other.”  She peered, not unkindly, down at Twilight.  “Am I right, my faithful student?”

Twilight shrank in on herself but she couldn’t find it inside to deny the truth.  “Yes,” she whispered.  “I just don’t understand what you were thinking.  But then, I don’t understand how you could have cast a spell to twist the mind of filly away from her family, so perhaps I never really knew you in the first place.”

Princess Celestia raised one perfect eyebrow.  “So you know about that.  Well, it seems I’ve even more explaining to do than I anticipated.  I’d better get started.”  She sighed and sat back on her cushion.  “Would you believe that I made a mistake?”

“Once, no, I wouldn’t have.  Now?”  Twilight looked away.  “Now I can see a bit more clearly.  Despite my-“ Twilight broke off, remembering that her injury wasn’t present in that place.  “Never mind.  So you made a mistake?”

“I thought this would be a minor incident in the grand scheme of things.”  Princess Celestia raised a hoof as if to sketch it out.  “I’d disappear for a few years so Luna could run the country and gain confidence as a leader.  There would have been challenges, but I’m sure Luna and you could have handled them.  Then, when the time seemed right, I’d undo the spell, return myself to my body, and undo the alterations to everypony’s memory.”

“So what went wrong?”

“I’d tied the memory spell to my renunciation of my body and immortal magic.  I’d thought that that way when I reassumed body and magic both it would undo the memory spell automatically.”  Princess Celestia gestured to herself ruefully.  “Instead, the spell required more magic than I’d anticipated.  Enough to completely sever the links between magic and body to leave me little more than the wandering spirit you see before you.”

“That’s it?” Twilight asked blankly, hardly believing her ears.  She brought one hoof down on the table and leaned forward angrily.  “Oh oops you made a mistake.  So sorry.  Won’t happen again.  You hurt literally everypony who ever knew you – which, since you’re you, is literally everypony – not to mention the agony its put Spike, Luna, and I through, and all you have to say is that it was a mistake?”

“It was a mistake,” Celestia said with equanimity.  “And I believe you have recently learned something about the dangers of mistakes from powerful ponies.”  That took the wind right out of Twilight’s sails.  She sat back, stunned that Celestia would go that far, but Celestia wasn’t done.  “I don’t think that’s really what you’re angry about anyway, or what you meant when you asked why I abandoned you.  I will accept your anger, Twilight, but only if you are honest with me about the source.  Now, do you want to try again?”

The scene felt so painfully familiar to Twilight.  And why shouldn’t it?  It had played out time and again in her lessons with the princess. First there was the recounting of Twilight’s mistakes, said in tones of slight disappointment, as if she had personally and intentionally let Celestia down.  Then came the suggestion of the real answer and the magnanimous opportunity to try again.

As the faithful student moments like these had not been unpleasant to Twilight.  Oh, she’d hated getting something wrong and feeling like she’d disappointed Celestia.  But the kindness, the gentle guidance toward the answer, these had made her feel loved.  As if her goddess has personally reached down and steered her to the correct path.

Now though, it made her blood boil.  The casual knife thrust into an open emotional wound, the sheer condescension in Celestia’s tone, the intimation that she knew Twilight better than Twilight knew herself, all of them set Twilight to seething.

All the more so because she couldn’t truthfully say that Celestia was incorrect.

“Fine,” Twilight growled, ignoring Celestia’s raised eyebrow at her tone.  “You’re right, I could forgive you for what you intended here and for making everything so much worse with your mistake.  None of what you’ve done recently damaged my image of you.  It made me angry, of course, but it was only when I found the spell you cast on me as a foal that I truly felt abandoned by the pony I’d loved like a mother.  Though as I said, it would be more accurate to say that I suddenly felt as though I never really knew you at all.  So I’ll ask again, why?”

Twilight was breathing hard when she came to the end of her speech.  Her face glowered, but her eyes pleaded with Celestia to have some reason, some excuse that would make it all okay.

“There is an explanation, Twilight,” Celestia said slowly.  “I can only hope it is enough to satisfy you, though you may wish you’d remained ignorant.”

Twilight sat back bowed her head.  “Tell me.  Please.  I have a right to know.”

“So be it.”  Celestia looked down for a moment, gathering her thoughts.  Then she raised her eyes and began to speak.  “A thousand years is a long time to be alone.  Most of the other immortals are from solitary races and they don’t mind the mayfly lives of the mortals of their kind.  Ponies, though, are herd creatures through and through and most of us react poorly to isolation.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Twilight asked, frowning.

Celestia, staring off into the starry distance, continued as if she had not heard.  “That’s why Luna came to be.  When I first ascended it rapidly became apparent that I needed a companion, one who would not wither with the turning of the seasons, or I become… unbalanced and things go awry.”

Twilight began to have an inkling of where this story was going and Celestia, perhaps sensing that, lowered her gaze and spoke directly to Twilight.

“When I first met you I realized that you might well be able to use the Element of Magic.  With Luna’s return fast approaching I knew I would need somepony ready with the Elements to oppose her.  I thought at the time that the Elements would simply banish her once again, and the thought of facing another thousand years watching everypony die just as I grew to care for them was simply too much for me to bear.  Do you understand yet Twilight?”

“I want to hear you explain what you did to me.”  Twilight fixed Celestia with a penetrating stare.  Not accusing, exactly, but not merciful either.  She would permit no evasions on Celestia’s part.  “I want to hear the words, plainly and without mitigations or obfuscations.”

“I cast a spell on you,” Celestia said with perfect equanimity.  “A variant of the want-it-need-it spell, actually, to redirect all the love you felt for your family to me.  A side effect of that spell was that you could no longer perceive them, not because you couldn’t remember, but because you were utterly apathetic to their presence.”

Though she looked as hard as she was able, Twilight couldn’t detect the smallest glimmer of shame or regret on Celestia’s part.  Though given the years Celestia had spent building her mask, that did not necessarily mean those emotions were absent.

“And the reason?” Twilight asked.

“I planned for your ascension, that you would take Luna’s place at my side to assuage my loneliness.  There is an old and incomplete spell designed to alter the fates of the ponies closest to you and, in completing it, you would have grown sufficiently attuned to others’ magic to ascend.  But I needed to make sure that you would never rebel as she did.  Hence the spell.”  Celestia calmly sipped her tea, seemingly indifferent to the turmoil roiling in Twilight’s heart.

It was too much, simply too much.  The anger in Twilight boiled over.  She leapt on the table and slapped the teacup from Celestia’s magic, sending it to shatter on the starry ground.  The tinkle of breaking porcelain echoed and reverberated strangely in that ephemeral place, growing in volume as Twilight shrieked in Celestia’s face.

“You brainwashed me!  You stole me from my family and brainwashed me into becoming what?  A replacement for your sister?  I loved you as a mother and now I find that’s only because you took me from my real mother.  How can you sit there calmly drinking your tea and tell me that molded me like a pawn?

Twilight paused, teeth gritted and seething.  A thought struck her and she sat back, hanging her head in desolation.  “Hay, there was nothing to mold.  I was just a filly when you took me.  You practically built my psyche from the ground up to be exactly what you wanted it to be.”

She looked up, staring straight into Celestia’s eyes.  “Tell me the truth.  Did you ever care about me as a pony, as an individual, rather than as a project?”

“I love you, Twilight Sparkle” Celestia said simply in the face of Twilight’s anger.  “I loved the powerful magic-obsessed filly I first met.  I loved the eager student I raised.  And I love the strong confident mare you’ve become.  No matter what happens or how this ends I can’t tell you how proud I am of all you’ve done.  I did what I did because it was necessary for Equestria.”

Twilight snorted.  “’For Equestria’, what a terrible reason to hurt somepony you claim to love.”

“I love my sister,” Celestia reminded her, “and I banished her for a thousand years, because that was what Equestria demanded of me.  Sometimes leading means sacrificing the ones you love.”

“Brainwashing me was a sacrifice for the good of Equestria?” Twilight demanded.

“Yes.  Equestria has prospered under my guidance, but these past thousand years alone have worn me down.  I am not so arrogant as to think I can maintain my sanity through sheer force of will.  And so I chose you to join me, to be the counterbalance I so desperately need.  Even after Luna’s return I still planned on your ascension because I cared for you and I thought that between the three of us we could make Equestria greater than ever before.”

Celestia sighed.  “Unfortunately, what I planned is a moot point.  I am on the edge of dissolution and you are on the edge of ascension and of madness.”

“If I’ve spent my life brainwashed then would going mad really be any different?” Twilight spat.

The shattered teacup from which Celestia had been drinking swirled together and reformed on the table before her.  It filled again with tea and Celestia took another patient sip.  “That pettiness is beneath you, Twilight Sparkle.  Hate me if you must, but you know that you have a part to play in defeating Sombra, and that you cannot perform that role if you are insane.”  As always, Celestia’s rebuke cut to the quick, making Twilight feel small and foolish for her anger.

“Fine,” Twilight said, hating that she sounded like a sulky teenager, but not knowing how to avoid it.  “Why am I on the brink of ascension and madness?”

Celestia did not deign to answer.  She merely looked at Twilight, waiting for her to come to the obvious answer on her own.

“The memories of those other ponies.  It must have something to do with them,” Twilight said slowly, thinking it through.  She could feel the myriad of memories pulsing at the edges of her mind.  Memories beyond counting that wanted nothing more than to pour into her until her poor vessel cracked under the pressure.  “What are they? Why are they here?”

“Sombra,” Celestia answered.  “When my sister and I fought him last he was acting in much the same way, forcing ponies to bend to his will.  We knew of no way to break his control and didn’t want to simply kill everypony he controlled.  On the other hoof, we could not allow him to control Hvergelmir or the Crystal Empire. So, using the Elements, we banished everything; him, his slaves, and the Crystal Empire itself.”

“So your disregard for the lives of mortal ponies goes back at least a thousand years,” Twilight said harshly, taking pleasure in the faint flicker of irritation her jab finally managed to evoke.

“What would you have had me do?  His strength grows with everypony he controls and the more ponies he has the more he can capture.  He’s essentially an exponential threat and once he passes a certain point he’s nearly impossible to stop.  We had assumed the banishment would weaken his control and we could defeat him immediately after he returned, which shouldn’t have been for a while yet.”  Celestia sighed again and looked away.  “As with so many things, it did not go as planned.”

Twilight nodded.  “Luna told me what she did.  She had forgotten him during her own banishment and when she suddenly rediscovered him she tried to reseal him.  Apparently her efforts were insufficient.”

“I suspect her patchwork attempt at reinforcing his prison may even have sped his return,” Celestia acknowledged, “but the banishment itself did not have the desired effect.  I thought he would be isolated from his victims and they might have a chance to break free when the prison weakened.  Instead, he had access to the minds of all the crystal ponies imprisoned with him, both the living and the recently dead, for the entirety of his banishment.  The second he could touch the real world he used his iron hold on them to spread his taint to Hvergelmir.  You, in leaping into it, plunged right through them and, like any wandering spirits, they sought to take the first body they came across.”

“Okay, I understand how thousands of ponies trying to possess me would drive me mad, but how would any of this make me ascend?” Twilight asked, her anger with Celestia warring and losing to her desire to learn.

Celestia, for her part, seemed grateful that their discussion had moved on to less contentious topics.  She answered almost eagerly, falling into the lecturing tone she had used to give lessons to Twilight when she was just a foal.

“As you well know, immortal magic simply refers to the capability to use natural magic directly, rather than being restricted to the magic produced by one’s own body.  It is commonly thought that only immortals have access to this magic.  An interpretation that we immortals take great pains to reinforce.  In truth, any being that manages to access natural magic becomes an immortal.” Celestia smiled mischievously.  “And now you know the great secret of our age.  Rather disappointing isn’t it?”

Twilight stared unbelieving at her mentor.  “That’s it?  A pony could randomly luck into channeling natural magic and, poof!, they’re immortal?  That’s the trick to the incredible power you all wield?”

“It’s harder than it sounds,” Celestia replied.  “Channeling natural magic is impossible without experiencing from the inside what somepony else’s personal brand of magic feels like.  Only through achieving a multitude of perspectives on magic can a pony triangulate, as it were, what it feels like to wield pure natural magic.”

“So, it’s like trying to see through another pony’s eyes?” Twilight asked slowly.  “Or experiencing the qualia of another’s senses?”

“Precisely,” Celestia praised.  “In its incomplete form the spell I’d planned to give you would have altered the cutie marks of your friends.  Completing the spell would have required you to immerse yourself in their beings.  Only when you did so would you have been able to reverse the effects and in doing so achieve the perspective necessary to wield natural magic.  Naturally, having the memories of thousands of ponies thrust into your head will have the same effect, albeit in a far more damaging fashion.”

Twilight could scarcely believe her ears.  “I always thought there was more to it than that.  You immortals call yourselves gods and goddesses and claim entire sections of existence as your own.  You mean to tell me that fundamentally you’re no different than an ordinary pony like me?”

Celestia chuckled gently.  “I would say we are very different from ordinary ponies, but not so different from you.”

Twilight spluttered in disbelief.  “So that’s it?  There are some few special ponies and the rest are entirely irrelevant?”  Twilight sat back, still staring at Celestia.  “Luna was right.  I defended you when she said you played chess with ponies’ lives, utterly uncaring of the pieces that get taken, but she was right.  You don’t care at all.”

“I did not say that.”  Celestia responded sharply.  She leaned forward, practically following Twilight across the table.   For the first time in their conversation urgency colored her tone.  “I do care and they do matter.  They matter in the brief moments of their existence.  Indeed, they are the only thing that matters.”

“I don’t understand.”

Celestia rose from the table and began to pace back and forth.  “If you are to become an immortal then you must know this.  I have lived for thousands upon thousands of years and known millions of ponies in that time.  The vast majority of those ponies are dead and gone so completely that no record remains of their life.  They are absent even from my memories because no living mind could hold them all. And yet, even knowing that my current subjects will soon be similarly forgotten, I spend my every waking moment playing games, as you put it, to make subjects lives as joyful as possible.  Do you see the paradox there?”   She jabbed her hoof pointedly at Twilight.

“Perhaps you enjoy the game for its own sake?” Twilight ventured.

Celestia cocked her head, just as she had whenever Twilight offered a particularly poor guess in their lessons together.  “Really?  You think I spend all day every day arguing with ponies like Blueblood because that is the most fun activity I have encountered in my immortal life?”

The question called a small smile from Twilight and an answering one from Celestia, who lowered her hoof and regained some of her composure, though she remained standing.

“Alright,” Twilight allowed, “I see the paradox.  I will admit that I often wondered why you spent so much time arguing with nobles when you could have simply overruled them or left to more valuable uses of time.”

“L'immortalité oblige.”

“A twist on noblesse oblige?” Twilight asked.  “I’ve never heard that formulation of the saying.”

“That is because no pony would dare claim to my face that I am obligated to them,” Celestia answered with amusement.  “Nevertheless, the concept stands.  What else could I do with my life?  I have tasted ever pleasure imaginable, indulged in the most hedonistic excess and lived as the purest of ascetics.  Nothing of that sort was worth building an immortal life around.”

“So which is it?  Do you serve your subjects because that is the obligation of immortality, or because it is the only thing that brings you joy anymore?”

“Yes,” was Celestia’s maddening response and she chuckled at Twilight’s groan.  “You compared what I do to a chess game.  I confess, my own preferred metaphor is that of a gardener of bonsai trees.  The trees I raise are no less beautiful for their impermanence, no less valued for all that I must sometimes trim them back.”

“Trimming a tree is an awfully generous euphemism for what you did to me,” Twilight remarked sharply, letting some of her earlier anger creep back into her tone.

“Viewed in isolation what I did to you was terrible.  But as a consequence of that action my sister was returned to me and you yourself became great pony in your own right, one who, if things had gone more simply, would have joined myself and Luna as a princess of Equestria.”  Celestia shook her head.  “It was a harsh cut, but I cannot bring myself to regret it or view it as a mistake in light of the tree that has grown from it.”

Twilight made to respond, but was interrupted by a strange ripple that passed through everything around her and Celestia.  The far off stars, the teal ground, the table itself, all seemed to waver like a still pond disturbed by a thrown pebble.

Turning back to Celestia, Twilight caught her grimace of pain, a disturbing expression on the face of the pony she’d once, like any filly regarding her parent, thought omnipotent.  “What was that?”

Celestia closed her eyes and brought her hoof up to her chest as she breathed in, then gently pushed it away as she breathed out.  A familiar calming exercise and one that had become Twilight’s favorite shortly after Celestia taught it to her.

Celestia opened her eyes.  “We are still in Hvergelmir,” she reminded Twilight.  The memories seek to continue flowing into you and the magic seeks to erase me.  I don’t have the strength to maintain this space for much longer.”

“Ok, fine, let’s think.”  Twilight tried to force her tired brain into problem-solving mode.  “How do we get ourselves out of here alive? ”

“There is an obvious way,” Celestia said.  “I need a body to prevent my self and my magic from degrading any further.  You need the mental fortitude to bear the memories of an Empire’s worth of ponies without losing yourself.  Say, the fortitude of a pony that already has thousands of years of memories of her own.”

“What are you suggesting, exactly?” Twilight asked slowly.

“You play host to me, sheltering my magic within yourself and I take on those memories with my own mind.  After we escape perhaps we can devise some way to seperate.  If not, I suppose you will have to take my place in Equestria while I guide you from the back of your mind.  The plan hinges on you allowing me to take up residence within your being.”  Celestia fixed Twilight with a frank gaze.  “Can you do that, Twilight Sparkle?  Knowing everything that you know now, can you accept me?”

Could she?  Twilight cast her mind back to the faithful student she once had been.  That Twilight would have accepted without a second thought, would have done anything for Celestia.  She’d never have that level of trust in Celestia again.

Was that wrong though?  Celestia’s plan to cause Twilight to ascend clearly showed that she planned to treat Twilight as an equal, and it wouldn’t be right to have that kind of unquestioning faith in an equal, just as she wouldn’t unquestioningly trust her own decisions.

No, a lesser level of trust was entirely appropriate.  Even at that lesser level of trust, Twilight-as-an-equal would have been happy to go along with Celestia’s plan, for both their sakes.  The holdup was the spell Celestia had cast on her as a filly.

That had been wrong.  It had been a violation of such magnitude that Twilight still had trouble comprehending it.  That betrayal was quick to choke out any seeds of trust that might have grown in their cursed bonsai garden.

Unbidden, the image of Fluttershy rose in her mind.  It was true, that had been a mistake, one she bitterly regretted, which was an acknowledgement Celestia had refused to make.  But there were similarities too.  In the end, it hardly mattered that Twilight regretted it now.  What mattered was that she had given the order and, against Fluttershy’s will, sent her to her death.

It had been a betrayal of her friends and of what the six of them stood for.  Despite that, her friends had remained at her side.  That hadn’t necessarily forgiven her, Twilight knew that there was still a chance Dash would try to kill her when this was all over, but until that time they stood by her.  That was what mattered, she realized.  Not forgiveness or regret, useless emotions that they were, but the decision to keep the pony that had wronged you in your life, or not.

So, if there was no trust from her to Celestia now, could there be again someday? Twilight thought back over her memories with Celestia.  It took a long time.  There were so very many.

She remembered early on in her time at the castle, when she had crawled to Princess Celestia’s room out of fear of a new place and been welcomed with a warm wing.  She remembered lessons in the garden, getting lost in far-reaching explorations of the nature of magic.  She remembered smiles and birthdays and laughter.  Princess Celestia had said that she loved Twilight and Twilight knew, deep down below her anger, that she would have loved the princess even if the spell had not compelled it so.

And it was in that love between the two of them, the love that had been and could someday be again, that she decided to place her faith when she made her response.

“Princess, I choose to trust you.”

Princess Celestia lowered her head and something like relief, or was it grief, passed across her face.  “Thank you, my faithful student.  No.  Thank you Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight stood.  “What must I do?”

The princess’s face tensed and she seemed to draw in on herself.  “Simply open your mind and be ready to hold fast to your sense of self.”

Twilight nodded and a golden aura began to radiate from the princess’s horn.  It grew in brilliance until it was almost blinding, fading the cool regard of the stars above and below.  Twilight could feel the sun-kissed energy of the princess’s magic gathering.

As it reached its peak the princess made a noise as if she wished to say something.  The light blinded Twilight and hid Princess Celestia’s face from her.  “Did you say something?” she asked.

A moment’s pause and then, “be ready Twilight, I’m about to begin.”

Twilight couldn’t have said she was truly ready, but it didn’t matter.  The golden light swelled and their brief sanctuary was washed away.

Twilight fell.

All around her beat that unceasing ocean of memories, trying once more to fill her small mortal vessel.  Inside beat the warm heat of the princess’s magic and it kept the ocean at bay.

Twilight felt her heart swell even as she continued to fall.  She was still afraid, uncertain of her ability to handle the memories, but the princess was with her and that inner warmth buoyed her spirits.

That warmth grew stronger, stretching out within Twilight and pushing back against the memories that dared encroach.  It was almost painful in its brilliance, but Twilight trusted the princess to know what she was doing.

Except the warmth of the princess’s magic kept increasing, passing the point of pain.  It began to spread from where it had nestled close to Twilight’s heart on down through her veins.  It reached her legs and with a sharp prick forced her to kick out in midair.

“Ouch!  Careful princess, those are my legs you’re using,” Twilight muttered.  She focused within and tried to convey a sense of pain to the magic within her.  There were no words between them, but they did inhabit the same body and an emotional connection of sorts was possible.

Alarm bells began going off in Twilight’s head when the only emotion that returned was a faint feeling of regret.  Twilight reached for her own magic and turned her attention inward.  Her own mindscape stretched out before her inner sight.  She found Princess Celestia’s magic easily enough, but she could scarcely believe what it was doing.

The visual her magic provided to help her make sense of the mindscape was that of a purple heart, her own, with a golden orb to represent Princess Celestia’s magic nestled beside it.  As she focused down on the interface between the two, she could see the light being given off by the orb bleeding into her own purple heart.

Twilight cast a diagnostic on the golden orb, trying to determine if it was unstable and needed part of her heart to maintain itself, or to maintain Princess Celestia’s presence in her body.  The second her spell touched the orb a lance of light shot out and followed the spell path back up to Twilight’s vantage point.  At the same moment the orb began radiating power, speeding up the rate at which its effect spread through the purple heart.

Crying out at the assault and the accompanying throbbing pain, Twilight sent that pain winging to Princess Celestia, along with feeling of cessation.  ‘Regret’ came the response.  A regret flavored with love and colored with remembrance of all the life Twilight had spent with Princess Celestia, but an unyielding regret nonetheless.

It was intentional, Twilight realized with a sting of betrayal that hurt worse than any of the attacks she’d yet weathered.  Celestia was seeking to possess Twilight, mind and body both, and to leave her little more than a screaming specter in the back of her own mind.

Hay, Celestia had as good as told Twilight that this was her plan.  She’d said that wandering spirits would take the first body available to them, and that she would even hurt the ponies she loved to maintain her place in Equestria.  Honestly, after their conversation Twilight was almost disappointed with herself for not expecting this.  Celestia was fundamentally incapable of putting her before the good of Equestria as she saw it.  If only one of them could survive, Celestia would see it as her duty to Equestria to be the survivor.

Twilight considered giving in.  Perhaps Celestia was right in prioritizing her own survival.  She had been a benevolent ruler of Equestria for millennia.  Moreover, she was already deeply entrenched inside Twilight.  It would be so easy for Twilight to tell herself that her surrender was for the good of Equestria.  Celestia would probably do a better job of fighting Sombra anyway.  This wasn’t an enemy that Twilight needed to fight.  It was a sacrifice for the good of her home.

That was the attack Celestia had fired off making her think that way, Twilight tried to tell herself, even though she knew it wasn’t true.  Gazing down at the engoldening of her purple heart, almost halfway done now, she tried to rouse some further anger at the betrayal or at the intrusion currently taking place.  She looked desperately inside her for some will to fight, some reason not to simply give in.

There was nothing.

Twilight was just so tired.

“Have at it then, Celestia, and all the luck of world be with you.  Fluttershy, I’ll be with you soon,” she murmured, smiling at the thought.  Her mind turned to each of her friends, one by one.  Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Applejack, and Pinkie Pie.  They would be sad, she knew, to have lost her as well.  But they understood the meaning of self-sacrifice, and this was the kind of sacrifice any of them would have made without hesitation.  It didn’t seem so bad when she put it that way. Her life for her country.  No, her life for the lives of her friends.

Her life for Spike.

Well that might pose a bit of a problem.  Spike wouldn’t understand that, wouldn’t want to understand.  He could still be childish at times, or maybe it was his dragon greed coming to the forefront.  Either way, he wouldn’t accept the necessity of what she was doing.  He would want to have it all, both her life and his own.  And she had made him a promise.

Or two promises, technically.  Twilight remembered promising both that she would protect her life as if it was his life, and that she would return from Hvergelmir.  Would she have let Celestia take over Spike without a fight?  Emphatically not.  She wouldn’t surrender her little brother to the princess, not even for the good of Equestria.

So perhaps there was one small obligation that still rested on her shoulders.  Twilight felt the need to fight back, just a little.  Just enough of a fight that, if she should happen to meet Spike in some kind of afterlife, she could honestly say that she’d tried.  That way he’d understand that she couldn’t really have won against Celestia after all.

Besides, she was curious about the magic Celestia was using to take her over.

Curiosity and a promise, that was all there was within her.  It was enough to rouse her, with barely one quarter of her heart remaining, to mount some small effort at a counter attack.

Twilight gathered her remaining power and sent a lavender pulse back against Celestia with all the power her enfeebled and quartered heart could muster.  Celestia’s advance halted at once and the golden orb rocked back from the blow she thought would be so pathetic that Celestia wouldn’t even notice it.

Well now wasn’t that interesting.

Celestia should have been far stronger than anything Twilight could hope to defeat, particularly at this late stage.  Why wasn’t she?  Hot on the trail of a mystery, Twilight gathered herself as best she could and dove into her own heart, swimming toward the intersection with Celestia’s magic.

She found the point easily enough.  Golden chains penetrated the shimmering lavender wall that marked the border of her being.  The chains blazed with light and an oppressive solidity that had no place in a heart.  Even looking at them sent pains stabbing into Twilight’s head.  Celestia, as if sensing her lapse in focus, redoubled her assault, but another simple pulse from Twilight held her back.

With her magic to guide her, Twilight began prying apart the spellwork of one of the chains, identifying and analyzing its components.  It was, dare she say, a perfectly vicious spell.  Layer after layer of magic meant for crawling like vines through any walls Twilight could erect.  Yet more layers to claim and possess and subjugate every inch of the target’s being.

It should have worked as best Twilight could tell.  There were no obvious flaws and it was certainly far stronger than any defense she had or could mount.

‘Regret’ came from Celestia once again and then another wave of magic crashed over Twilight.  This one was simply designed to cause pain and disrupt Twilight’s focus on her defense.  And oh how it hurt!  White hot knives dug into every inch of her being, flaying one piece of self from the next.  Alone within her heart, Twilight screamed.

Yet even through the pain, Twilight could tell it didn’t hurt quite as much as it should have.  It was as if the pain was a fire and she was seated twice as far away from it as Celestia had expected.  Both spells just didn’t seem to be aimed at her in quite the correct way.

It was a clue, and one Twilight desperately needed.  Gritting her metaphorical teeth, she pushed past the pain and dove back into the spell analysis.  There, deep within the targeting components, Twilight found what she was looking for.

Celestia, having only the vaguest notion of what had been occurring in her absence and not sure of the major changes to the identifiers, had aimed her spells at the mind of the Twilight she had known prior to her disappearance. That Twilight had not commanded an army for 6 months, would not have dreamed of shouting down an immortal, and had never killed anyone in battle.  That Twilight had not inadvertently sent one of her friends to her death.

Perhaps most pertinently, that Twilight had used dragon fire to burn out an eye along with the associated mental contamination.  Celestia’s spells were designed to connect with her brainwashing spell to home in on Twilight’s mind and prevent her from fighting back.  In essence, Celestia’s magic was tailored to a pony that no longer existed and was anchored on a spell that was no longer present.

As a result, none of her magic was truly aimed at Twilight as she actually was.  The offensive magic couldn’t hit with its true force.

That weakness gave Twilight the opportunity to do a little creative editing of the target of the spell.  After years of magical training with her, Twilight knew Celestia’s mental signature as well as Celestia had known hers.  One of the consequences of being so old was that Celestia’s nature and thus her mental signature could not change that much over a six-month period.  With the alterations Celestia could only strike glancing blows while every shot of Twilight’s pierced her opponent’s mind.

Some hint of Twilight’s intentions must have leaked over to Celestia because she redoubled her efforts to make Twilight submit, bringing her superior and formidable magic to bear.  Twilight pushed back, throwing up shield after shield precisely targeted at the flaw she had found in Celestia’s spells.  Gold chains sizzled against lavender force fields and Twilight’s mind cleared.

Twilight directed her magic to wrap around the chains and brought them as close before her as she could stand.  She braced herself and plunged her horn directly into the seething magical chains.

A ragged scream tore itself from her throat as Celestia used the chance proximity had given her to stab deep into Twilight.  At the same time, Twilight forced all her magic into the chain’s targeting components, rewriting the magical signature to that of the pony who had once taught her magic.

It was a race between Twilight’s co-opting of Celestia’s invasion and Celestia’s complete dominion of Twilight’s being.  In the end, perhaps because of weakness, or because of misunderstandings, or simply because that was the way things were meant to be, Twilight won.

From where Twilight’s horn had impaled the chain her magic spread.  It was a deeper purple than usual, and where it touched the chains darkened from gold to a dusky orange hue.  It quickly engulfed the chains that had already entered her heart, and with every inch her magic conquered the pain lessened and her mind and heart cleared.

She withdrew her horn from the chain, panting with exertion.  Twilight knew she didn’t have enough within her for another counter attack.  Either this spell would succeed in defending her heart, or Celestia would win.

Twilight wasn’t sure she truly cared one way or the other what the outcome would be.  She had tried her best, and even Spike would have to accept that.  She zoomed her focus out until she was observing the entirety of her heart once more and she could take in the whole of her mindscape.  The golden chains wriggled and writhed like giant worms as her wine-dark corruption transformed the sunlit chains to the amber of dusk.

Of course.  She was claiming Celestia’s magic.  Of course it would take on the colors of twilight.

Her sunset chains each worked one end free from her heart like worms rising from a rotten apple, and wasn’t that just a lovely simile with which to regard her own being.  Still, if it worked she would accept it.

The chains undulated in the air as if looking for something, and then dove deep into the still-golden orb of Celestia’s immortal magic.  Twilight had expected them to spread her influence across the sphere much as they had been spreading Celestia’s influence through her.  She wasn’t sure what it would mean to turn the sun to twilight, but she was desperate enough to try.

Instead, the chains held fast and began to reel in the orb like a fish on a line.

At once, a sense of immense pressure pounded at Twilight.  A mountain had taken up residence above her and it was determined to meet the ground with no regard for the pony betwixt them.  There was nothing Twilight could do to fight back for it was her own magic that was creating the form that victory took.  There were no spells to cast or cancel, no way to dodge or escape.

All she could do was endure.

The pressure mounted and it brought with it a closer connection to Celestia’s mind.  The emotions of the other pony flowed into Twilight and she held fast to them to distract herself from the force that threatened to pop her mind like a grape.

Denial.  Anger.  Depression.  Despair.  Hope.

Pride.

It was pride that dominated Twilight realized with disbelief.  Through the mist of negative emotions pride unmistakably blazed through.  Twilight couldn’t spare a thought for what it might mean; she clung to that spar of pride to shelter against the forces and emotions that assailed her mind.

The pressure was Celestia.  The terrible strain of adding a vast ocean of memory to Twilight’s tiny lake.  She endured, marshaling every memory she possessed and every one she could beg borrow or steal from the memories that had so recently invaded.  They weren’t hers precisely, but they would serve and together they resisted the weight of an immortal life.

Celestia’s orb had nearly been completely absorbed by her lavender heart and Twilight knew that, one way or another, that would be the end of her current trial.  Fervently, she begged the orb to hurry, the chains to speed their reeling and end her torment.  But there was no magic behind the wish and the chains continued their slow and inexorable pull.

And then, without any warning whatsoever, it was over.

Stumbling from the sudden release of that hated pressure, Twilight found herself in wide green meadow. Blue and yellow wildflowers dotted gentle rolling fields.  In front of Twilight frolicked a small pegasus filly with a white coat and long pink mane.

She awkwardly flapped her wings and giggled at the gust-blown dandelion seeds.  Twilight nearly gasped as a flood of the filly’s pure joy rocked her.  With that emotional connection came the unmistakable knowledge that this was Celestia, more, this was Celestia’s earliest memory.

Another pony, this one blurred due to Celestia’s young age and lack of focus, appeared on the scene and gently escorted the young filly away.  Twilight felt herself pulled along with the other two, forced to stay close to the filly at all times.  She looked around, trying to figure out the point of this.  Celestia never did anything without a reason, she must have wanted Twilight to learn something from this scene from her foalhood.

As Twilight wondered she found herself surprised by the length of the memory.  Filly-Celestia had been taken care of and put to bed in a blurry sequence of events, and now Twilight had little to do but watch as she slept.

Reaching for her magic to investigate the area, Twilight found it missing.  Not just missing but utterly absent, as if she no longer possessed the capacity for magic.  Another sense intruded on her search and the memories she’d absorbed from the ponies in Hvergelmir rose to the forefront to remind her that this was what it felt like to be a pegasus.

Twilight reared back in shock, or attempted to.  She found that she could not tear her eyes away from the sleeping filly, could barely feel a body at all, in fact.  And it was this last fact that clued her in to what she was experiencing.  It should have been obvious she supposed.  After all, she had absorbed a wandering spirit while inside Hvergelmir.

Now she was condemned to live that spirit’s life from beginning to end, just as she had for the other spirits she contained.

Except, Twilight realized with a dawning sense of horror, she wasn’t just living that spirit’s life, she was aware of herself while she did so.  She would spend the next few thousand years floating next to Celestia unable to speak, or move away, or perform magic.  If she had to fully experience those thousands of years, it might well render her insane as surely as having thousands of spirits pour their memories into her would have.

Even as that fear filled her, the sun rose and filly-Celestia woke to her day.  It had been a far quicker night than it had any right to be and, naturally, Twilight had been incapable of sleeping.  Yet she felt well-rested and energized, ready to face a new day.

No, she felt Celestia’s feeling of energy and readiness.  Moments later, the feeling faded and the world around her blurred again into night.  It had been another day for Celestia but Twilight, despite getting the full emotional load of the day from Celestia, had only subjectively experienced a few minutes.  The weight of that day was hers though.  The vague memory of playing in the field one day and learning in her house the next rested in her mind, similar to the recollections from the lives of the other spirits.

A difference existed with this memory though.  She had experienced it in the third person but, more than any of the other memories, it felt as though it were hers.

Slowly, as Celestia’s days slid past, Twilight understood the rules of her experience of Celestia’s memories.  They flowed faster than normal memories, letting her experience years of Celestia’s life for days or weeks of subjective time.  Once the time had passed, however, it was hers to recall at her leisure.  Her memories from Celestia’s life did not jostle for preeminence like the memories from the spirits of the crystal ponies.  They merely rested in the back of her mind, as easy and smooth to call forth as her own memories of Ponyville.

Reliving Celestia’s life gave Twilight the twin gifts of time and perspective.  Twilight lost years contemplating important individual memories from Celestia’s life.  And she spent additional years going over every life she already possessed in greater detail, claiming the memories of the other ponies and encompassing them.  Slowly, she learned to live as the host of a multitude.

Twilight Sparkle was the primary, yes, with the memories of Celestia providing the weight and the time she needed to remain so, but there was a little corner of her heart dedicated to gardening and opera.  Another was preserved as a shrine of love to a pony who had died a thousand years before Twilight was ever born.

On and on it went, and Twilight grew.  She learned the simple truth that, given time and space, there is no limit to what one life can contain.

In the process of her self-construction Twilight missed entire decades of Celestia’s life.  That was ok.  She knew that the memories would be waiting for her when she had the time to examine them.  Indeed, she used them as something of a reward system.  Recalling Celestia’s moments of joy or of magical learning served as a respite after imbibing a particularly difficult or painful life.  In this way, Celestia lent her strength and her skill to her faithful student one last time.

Celestia life was not infinite, so the recitation of her memories could not last forever, though it often seemed it would do so.  Twilight had nearly finished her task of sorting the lives within her when her attention was caught by perhaps the most important of Celestia’s memories: the moment that Princess Celestia first met Twilight Sparkle.

After that moment, Twilight could not tear herself away any longer.  She lived the student teacher relationship from the opposite side.  Twilight felt the nauseating mix of fear, need, and desperate purpose as Celestia cast the spell to alter Twilight’s mind as a filly.  She felt, too, the honest love that burgeoned after for her faithful student.

Watching their relationship develop and watching herself grow in Celestia’s eyes brought Twilight as near to tears as she could get in her disembodied state.  Those years they had spent together seemed far too fleeting in the face of the vast stretch of time they now both understood.

Or perhaps it was the other way around.  Perhaps they were blessed beyond compare to have had even that much time together given the sheer quantity of loneliness that dogged their extended memories.

And so, nearly overwhelmed by the resonating feelings of herself and Celestia, Twilight found herself hurtled toward the present.  Celestia’s fateful decision to renounce her immortality to give Luna a chance to grow came and went in an instant.  The six months of nothingness that followed passed nearly as quickly.  Then the world around Twilight jerked to a stop as her long journey through Celestia’s life came to its final stop.

Twilight found herself in Celestia’s last memory. The white alicorn stood in that teal place among the stars where they had taken refuge.  Now Twilight could see the weariness in the faint drooping of her shoulders and curl of her mouth.  Now she could see Celestia as she was, and she saw a pony that was tired.  Into her silent observation Celestia spoke.

“Twilight Sparkle, if you are watching me now, then I am dead.”  Celestia swung her eyes back and forth, as if trying to see the ghostly form of Twilight that had not even existed when she made this memory.  Giving up, she stared straight ahead into the starry backdrop.

“If I am dead that means I failed in taking your body for my own.  I cannot help but try to do so, for the sake of Equestria, but I cannot bring myself to regret it if my attempt fails.  Doubtless, I will tell you many lies in my attempt to take your body, and so I have left this message, now when lies would serve no purpose, in hopes of finding forgiveness.”

Celestia sighed deeply and Twilight could see the mask that she had watched build up over years of responsibility crumble away.

“You have seen my memories and so you should know beyond a doubt that I love you, Twilight Sparkle, like the daughter I never had.  I crafted this form for my memories because I feared that if you experienced them personally, like you did the memories of the other spirits, then the sheer mass of them would overwhelm you.  After spending so much more time reliving my memories than you yourself have lived, you might have become simply a reflection of me.  And I did not want that, did not want to win that way. If that could truly be called winning.”

“So you sped them up, and made them patient,” Twilight croaked, finding herself suddenly able to speak, though in a voice rusty from disuse.

Celestia, of course, continued unhearing.  “I hope– I believe that they will arm you against the rest of the memories in Hvergelmir, that they will enable you to survive what is to come.  I hope that they will aid you in your future governance.  Equestria now belongs to you, and to Luna of course.  May you rule justly and wisely.”

Celestia laughed.  A bitter sound Twilight had never heard from Celestia in life.  “Listen to me, trying to exonerate myself and give you advice.  The truth is, Twilight Sparkle, I want to beg your forgiveness.  You who were my student, my daughter, you who have seen my life entire, you have the right to judge me as no other ever has.  And I am painfully aware that you have no reason to judge me kindly, not after what I have done to you and what I am about to attempt.  I want to beg for your absolution, though I know that I cannot receive it even if it were given.”

“I’m procrastinating,” Celestia scoffed and looked aside.  “As you can feel, I find myself afraid of facing a mortality I never thought I possessed.  Yet there is a part of me that relishes the chance to finally lay down my burdens.  To rest, knowing that what I built is in good hooves.”

The princess breathed in and brought a hoof to her chest.  She held it for three heart beats and exhaled, letting her hoof flow away with her breath.  When she looked up, through luck or fate or inevitability, her eyes found 

Twilight.

With a firm voice she spoke her farewell.

“You are my legacy, Twilight.  I am content leaving all that I have done in your hooves, and I can offer no higher praise than that.  Go with my life and my love!  Rise, Twilight Sparkle, bearer of the mantle of the sun!”

Celestia’s life was spent.  Her memory ended.

Twilight fell.

Tears flowed unchecked from her one good eye.  Forgiveness and absolution seemed such paltry concepts in the face of her feelings for Celestia.  The anger was still there, would always be there, but it was tempered by understanding and by love.  That was enough.  That was all that mattered.

Lives resumed their terrible crash and froth, draining into her mind.  But it was different now.  She had the memories to resist, to weigh against the invaders and remain whole.

Twilight accepted the flow and rode it, rising and falling with each wave that entered her.  She accepted a nation into her heart and found that she had room to make a home for it.  Somewhere in the spaces between lives it happened; she reached that critical threshold of knowledge and perspective and tipped over the edge.

The wings came and with them the strength of an earth pony filled her veins.  Her body blazed with light to rival Hvergelmir itself.  And when the light faded Twilight Sparkle floated, clad in the armor of the dragon queen.

There were more lives to come, but there was no longer any question of going under.  Twilight was equal to this, equal to the lives of an empire.  She felt the burden settle on her shoulders, the yoke of responsibility and the blessing of power.

It felt good.

It felt right, meshing with the memories of Celestia and her own heartfelt longing to be more than she was.

The memories ceased.  Twilight knew that it would take many long years before she had fully integrated all of them, but she had enough within her to preserve her mental balance until she had the luxury of time.  She was ready.

For the first time in a subjective eternity Twilight Sparkle turned her gaze without.  She had fallen through the bottom of the world and now she floated in an endless void.  There was no light in that place, nor shadow.  It simply was not, at least as far as her mortal eye could see.

Unbidden, the mantle of the sun flowed through her body and an ember of the setting sun found its place within her missing eye.  Long atrophied muscles forced the eyelid open, and for the first time Twilight Sparkle saw with immortal sight.

Light.  Glorious light.

Twilight swam in an ocean of light, the light of stars and sun and magic itself.  She beheld the entirety of Equestria and the lands beyond.  This was the world she had loved and left, just as she had sworn that she would one day do.  Casting her gaze outwards she saw other worlds, floating in that sea of infinite potential.

For a moment her curiosity nearly drove her to set wing and seek out those other worlds.  There was so much to know, so much to experience and to understand.  Her endless life could easily and happily have been filled with sailing the ocean of light to world after world.

Twilight Sparkle might have done so, she thought.  That pony for whom curiosity had proved the only emotion left after all others were worn away.  She might have gone for lack of any will to stay.

But then, that pony was not Twilight Sparkle anymore.  She was filled with too many memories and too much of Celestia to be Twilight Sparkle, and she was an alicorn besides.  Perhaps it was time for a new name, to mark her new self.

Or perhaps not.  Twilight was the rock to which she had clung when the memories had battered at her sense of self.  It would not do to abandon entirely that which she had fought so hard to keep.

A compromise then.  Something lost in exchange for memories gained.  There was no sparkle in her now, that had been worn away by what she had become.  She resolved to leave that name behind in the place that it had once most desperately sought.

Her immortal eye searched and found the aperture of Hvergelmir on the underside of Equestria.  That was her path home.  It would lead her first into deeper darkness, but she knew that it was her place to make sure that the sun set as it must, so that it could rise again.

The newly immortal princess, sister of dragons, Element of Magic, bearer of the mantle of the sun, alicorn of the dusk, shelter of the spirits of the Crystal Empire, she who had once been simply Twilight Sparkle spread her wings for her maiden flight.

And Twilight rose.
> Arc 3 Chapter 8: Transformation and Flight
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The party ran northward, Luna in the lead.  She knew where they were going, if not why.  They were going to the center of Sombra’s dark network, to wherever his original body rested.  Though it was not a central point of failure anymore, Luna couldn’t help but believe that it held the key to taking him down.

Everyone easily kept pace with her, despite the wide range in fitness and length of stride, and not even Dash ran ahead.  The landscape flowed and blurred as they galloped past, but their limbs moved heavily as if they were underwater.  The army had traveled far in the waking world and they now had to reverse their tracks in the Dreaming.  One would think it would take a while, but the truth was travelling in dreams was only ever loosely correlated with travel elsewhere.  In fact…

Luna skidded to a stop and the others slowed behind her.  She turned to glare at Nightmare Moon.

“How long were you going to let me keep going like that?” she asked irritably.

“As long as it took,” Nightmare said evenly.  “You need to internalize your understanding of the Dreaming to reclaim it.  Telling you would have accomplished nothing.”

“What’s going on?” Sunlit Rooms asked.

Luna gestured at their surroundings.  “See for yourself.”

One patch of the Dreaming looked much like the next.  Differences were smoothed over by the protean nature of the place until it was hard to say if one spot was truly different from another.  However, the giant discarded Party Artillery just to their left was a rather unmistakable indication that they had not moved from their starting point, despite all their running.  Further examination showed the splatter of colors from Pinkie’s battle with Sombra and the crack where the ground had swallowed him up on Luna’s command.

“I see,” said Sim.  “So we’re back where we started.  Some kind of loop?  Is this an attempt by Sombra to delay us?”

Nightmare Moon cackled.  “Yes, tell them all about the scary powers Sombra is bringing to bear to halt our progress.”

Luna blushed, though she was thankful it was barely visible against her dark coat.  “No, it’s not Sombra.  You just can’t run in the Dreaming.”

“Uhh, we just were?”  Rainbow just looked confused.  “I’ve already lost my wings, don’t take running from me too.”

“I mean that you can’t actually travel any distance in the Dreaming by running.  You can move quickly when you’re standing still.” Luna raised a hoof and swiped it through the air in demonstration.  “But if you try to run for any significant distance the Dreaming pushes back against it.  It’s like that dream everypony has about being chased by a monster and not being able to run away.”

“So if we can’t run then how are we going to make it all the way back to the Crystal Empire?  Because I, for one, do not fancy walking all that way.  It’ll take forever.”

Captain Armor nodded.  “I agree with Rarity, walking would take too long.  And even if we had the time to walk, we don’t have enough supplies to make it.”

Luna waved her hoof dismissively.  “Supplies aren’t an issue.  Haven’t you noticed?  We’ve been here for hours and none of you has gotten hungry, thirsty, tired, or had to go to the bathroom the entire time.  Physical needs just aren’t present in the Dreaming.  But it shouldn’t matter either way.  Nightmare is right.  This is a task for me.”

“I’m glad you see that much at least,” Nightmare put in.

Luna glared at her, but made no response.  She turned instead to the others.  “All of you, stand close to me and wait for a moment.”

As they moved to comply Luna closed her eyes.  The was the Dreaming.  This was her Dreaming and she needed to think of it as such.  Despite appearances, they did not have bodies in this place.  They moved because they wanted to move and not because they were physically sending signals to their legs.  So, if they wanted to be in the heart of the Crystal Empire, they should simply move there.

In theory anyway.

In practice there was a stickiness to things in the Dreaming.  Each of the beings present could have worn the form of an immortal, if they thought of it, but instead they clung to their customary forms.  They were the same heights as usual and that didn’t tend to change.  Even Pinkie, who’d displayed more mastery of the Dreaming than even Luna, hadn’t really done anything outside the norm for her.  Though admittedly, that said quite a bit more about where her norms were than it did about anything else.

None of them would be able to summon the will, focus, and sheer belief to move themselves across that large a distance.  Both because it was simply too far beyond their ordinary experience, and because their connection to the Dreaming was too tenuous.  Luna, though, intuitively understood the Dreaming and that it was flexible about things like location and destination.  Her ostensive mastery of the Dreaming should let her move the whole party to its destination in one go.

Or so she tried to tell herself.  But the more she focused on where she wanted to be, the less it felt like it was possible to get there.  She kept reflexively reaching for her magic, even as she knew that it was not the right tool for the job.

She would have been comforted if she at least felt as if she was repeatedly running into a wall.  Then there would have been some sense that she was on the right track and just needed to try harder.  This felt more like walking down a forest path and expecting to end up in the center of Canterlot.  It was simply fundamentally impossible and no amount of effort would even make it more likely to occur.  Another strategy was required.

Growling, Luna’s eyes snapped open.  “You and you,” she said, pointing at Pinkie Pie and Nightmare Moon, “come with me.”  Nightmare Moon smirked knowingly while Pinkie Pie merely looked perplexed, but both followed her away from the rest of the group without complaint.

“So, what ever could this be about, Luna?”

“I can’t carry us to the Crystal Empire,” Luna ground out.

“Well of course not,” said Pinkie.  “We’re much too heavy for you to carry alone.  Maybe if we all carried ourselves that would work better.”

“No,” said Nightmare Moon.  “She should be able to carry us all, but she can’t because she’s too weak.”

“Fine, you’re right.  I’m too weak.”

Nightmare Moon looked alarmed.  “No! You’re supposed to get angry that I called you out and prove me wrong.  Come on, where’s your stubborn pride and instinct for defiance?”

“Those died when the number of ponies I can claim as my subjects was reduced to six,” Luna said drily.  “I can’t do this alone, but maybe the three of us have a shot at it if we work together.”

“Nope, sorry, can’t happen,” Nightmare Moon said.

“Why not?”

“Well.” Nightmare shifted uncomfortably.  “The truth is that while I was formed by the Dreaming, I can’t actually manipulate it.  Or rather, it’s because I was formed by the Dreaming.  I don’t have a real self so I don’t have the leverage I’d need to change the Dreaming.”

Luna snorted.  “Ok, fine.  So you’re useless.  Is there anything wrong with the idea of having Pinkie help out though?”

Nightmare Moon shook her head.  “There shouldn’t be in theory, if she’s up for it.”  Both ponies turned to look down at Pinkie, who flinched away from them.  They shared a long look and a silent understanding passed between them.  Nightmare Moon headed back toward the group to give them some space.

Luna knelt down so that she could look Pinkie in the eye instead of looming over her.  “Listen, Pinkie Pie, I have already asked more of you than I have any right to.  Now I find I must ask for your help once again.”

“I can’t carry everypony,” Pinkie said, shaking her head timidly and shrinking back.  “I can’t, I just can’t.”

“You don’t have to,” Luna said gently.  “We’ll work together to do the carrying.  And you’ve already moved yourself, which is the part I’m having trouble with.”

“I have?” Pinkie leaned forward.

Luna nodded.  “When you fought Sombra.  You went from sitting on top of your Party Artillery to standing right in front of him in an instant.”

Pinkie frowned.  “But that was just a few feet.  It’s gotta be way way way harder to go all the way to the Crystal Empire.”

“It isn’t,” Luna said firmly.  “Everywhere is equally far away in the Dreaming.  Everything is possible here, so long as you have sufficient strength of imagination.  And I think your imagination is very strong indeed.”

“Everything is possible?” Pinkie asked slowly.  Hesitantly, she raised one hoof and stared at the air above it.  Luna watched in awe and horror as something formed in that space.  It was a bubble with teeth, a balloon with claws.  It pulsed a lurid green and bathed all in pale pink light.  Tentacles wrapped around one another in a writhing mass of far too many dimensions and perspectives.  Water rose and fell in a single loop as pillars turned to columns turned to doves.  It was eldritch madness with a smile of far too may teeth, and Luna could not look away.

With a start, she realized that a thin tendril connected her to the that pulsating impossible existence.  It felt like a question, a request for permission from Pinkie Pie.  Luna looked through that unknowable object to the desperate and determined pony on the other side.  There stood a pony who had suffered Sombra’s cruel enslavement and thrown it off as no other ever had.  That pony now asked Luna for something of the Dreaming, and Luna couldn’t find it in her heart to say no.

At that first hint of acquiescence the tendril thickened.  A second tendril shot out and pressed itself into Nightmare Moon’s heart.  Shouts of alarm signaled that the others had finally noticed what was going on, but at Luna’s outstretched hoof they felt back, watching uneasily.

A moment passed as the existence above Pinkie’s hoof grew in size, if not in comprehensibility, and took on a silvery sheen.  The tendrils connecting it to Luna and Nightmare Moon fell away and, without all trace of hesitation vanished, Pinkie pressed the strange object to her chest.

At once, the color flowed from her body to her mane, leaving her body bone white and visibly glowing even in the eternally lit Dreaming. If her body glowed, her mane practically blazed like the sun with a brilliant poufy gold.  But not all of her turned to light.  Her cutie mark and eyes faded to a washed out purple.  The transformation seemed to rock her back on her heels.  Her eyes closed and her head hung low.

“Are you alright?” Luna asked, tentatively walking closer as the changes ceased.  “Pinkie?”

“SURPRISE!”  Pinkie’s head snapped up and a wide grin more genuine than any seen for months filled her face.  She bounded off the ground, practically vibrating with energy and excitement.  “That feels soooooooo much better.  I was such a saddypants and all traumatized and it was just such a downer.”  At the word ‘downer’ her whole body drooped into a puddle of white goo on the ground of the Dreaming, before springing back into shape like a rubber band.  “But now I made myself all better!”

“You forcefully changed your mind?  That’s a bad idea.”  Luna shot a glance at Nightmare Moon, who had walked up to join them.  “Trust me, I speak from experience when I say that using the Dreaming to change yourself is incredibly dangerous.”

“I needed to be strong,” Pinkie said plaintively.  “And I made myself stronger so now I can help out and not be broken anymore.  I was so tired of being broken.  And I can help in other ways too.  Watch!”  With a sound rather like an electric slide whistle, Pinkie zipped over to the group and returned with Rainbow Dash held in her hooves like a toy.

“What’s going on?” Dash asked immediately.  “Is Pinkie in danger?”

“Not immediate danger,” Nightmare Moon said before Luna could reply.  “Apparently she wants to show us something about you.”

“That’s right!” Pinkie crowed.  “Now Dashie, you really don’t like having your wings all bound in bandages like that, do you?”

“Of course not.”

“And you’ve had those bandages on for a pretty long time, right?”

Dash rolled her eyes.  “It feels like forever, but the docs said I had to leave them on until they can get me to surgery.”

“Well lucky for you, good old Doctor Pinkie Pie, MD, PhD, JD, MBA, Esq., is here to kiss them all better.  If that’s okay with you.”  For a second the perky tone dropped away.  “Please let me help you Dashie.  I need to be able to help somepony somehow.”

There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in Rainbow Dash’s reply.  “If you think you can help then go ahead and do your thing.”

“Can she permanently change Rainbow Dash?” Luna asked Nightmare Moon in an undertone.

She shrugged in response.  “Maybe.  She clearly got something from us just now and she changed Sombra before that.  Won’t you be embarrassed if a mortal pony turns out to be better in the Dreaming than you are?”

Luna was startled to realize that she wouldn’t be embarrassed.  On the contrary, she clearly wasn’t using the Dreaming to its full potential.  If taking some piece of it was a help to one of her subjects, especially one as deserving of help as Pinkie Pie, then she was pleased to offer it up.

“Alright Dashie, here I go!” Pinkie said.  She bounced around to Dash’s right side and pressed her white lips to the bandages over Dash’s wing.

“Ouch,” Dash yelped.  There was a sizzle and a square cross of red was emblazoned onto the bandages.

“It’s gonna sting a little, but you’re tough.  You can take it,” Pinkie said, bouncing over Dash to the other side.  “Here comes the next one.”

Dash bit down on her lip and managed to hold it in this time.  Just like before, Pinkie kissed the bandages and another red cross appeared.

“Last one on your forehead,” she said, coming to stand in front of Dash.

“Hey wait a second.”  Dash frowned.  “Since when are you taller than me?”

“Since just now.  Nightmare Moon was nice enough to donate an inch or so.”

“Hey!  I didn’t donate anything,” Nightmare Moon protested.

“No take backsies,” Pinkie singsonged.

Luna moved over next to Nightmare Moon and confirmed for herself that she now was just slightly the taller of the two, while before they had unsurprisingly been the same height.  There was an admittedly petty glow of pleasure at being taller than the Nightmare. From the expression on her face, Nightmare felt the corresponding annoyance.  Neither of them had any idea just why it had happened though, and before they could think it through Pinkie kept speaking.

“Now Dashie, this one is going to hurt a little more, but the more you relax and trust me, the less it will hurt.”

Rainbow Dash took a deep breath and nodded.  “Ok, I’m ready.”

Pinkie stepped forward until they were nearly muzzle to nuzzle.  She gently pressed her lips to the center of Dash’s forehead, right where her horn would have been if she had been a unicorn.

“AHHHHHH!” Dash screamed and jerked her head, trying to break free.  Her whole body spasmed and pushed back against Pinkie.  Tears ran from Pinkie’s closed eyes, but she held Dash in a vice grip and didn’t move or let her go.

“What’s going on?”  Gilda and Thraxus rushed over, drawn by Dash’s screams.  “What is the pink pony doing to her?” Thraxus demanded.  He strode forward, determined to pull Pinkie off.

Worry was writ plain on Gilda’s face, but she held up a claw to hold him back.  “What is she doing?” Gilda asked of Luna.  She winced as every fresh scream tore itself from Rainbow’s throat.  “Tell me now or I’ll take her down.”

“I’ve healed her,” Pinkie said as she pulled back from the kiss.  She wasn’t laughing, but her voice bubbled and frothed like sarsaparilla as she spoke.  Her lips had left another red cross on Dash’s forehead.  The white pony held Dash and stroked her sweat-soaked mane as she trembled and fought her way back from the pain.  “It was hard because she didn’t really think I could heal her.  I had to change that at the same time as I changed her wings.”

“You changed her mind directly?” Luna asked worriedly.  “We just told you how dangerous it is to do that to yourself, and you went and did it to somepony else?”

“It worked,” said Pinkie.  “Look.”  She raised a hoof and with a sound like a door unlocking the red crosses melted away.

Dash’s eyes slowly opened.  “So did it work?” she asked, voice hoarse from the screaming.  “It better have after that.”

“It hurt that much because you’re a silly stubborn pony,” Pinkie said fondly.  “But I think everything went just fine.  Take the bandages off and see.”

Dash craned her neck around and tried to grab the edge of the bandages in her mouth.  Gilda and Thraxus came forward to help her and they quickly had the bandages unwound and piled on the ground.

“So, any movements I should be careful of?” Dash asked.

Pinkie shook her head.  “It’s should be like they were never injured.”

A hint of her classic devil-may-care grin crossed Dash’s face.  “In that case…”  She crouched low and then sprang into the air with all the force of a rocket.  A distant gleeful cry of “YESSSSSS!” came back to them as the familiar rainbow contrail formed behind her.

She didn’t perform a full sonic rainbow, for which Luna was grateful.  Instead, she arced back around and scooped up Pinkie in a flying tackle hug.  “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

Gilda whooped and even Thraxus cracked a smile as they sped into the air behind their jubilant friend.  Luna and Nightmare Moon watched celebratory acrobatics with smiles of their own.

“It seems Pinkie Pie truly does have a certain level of mastery over the Dreaming,” Luna commented.  “Or perhaps it’s more fair to say that she always had the mastery, but now she has the power to back it up.”

“She took something from me,” Nightmare Moon said.  “Since I am made from the Dreaming, that means she imbibed something of the Dreaming itself.  You will have to take it back from her when you reclaim the Dreaming fully.”

Luna shook her head, her eyes still tracking the joyful loops and whirls of the creatures in the sky.  Perhaps Nightmare Moon was right, but Luna didn’t think so.  Somehow, Pinkie having a piece of the Dreaming felt right.  “We’ll see.  I am concerned about how she changed herself.  That was what gave rise to you after all.”

“The trouble between you and I arose at least in part because you tried to preserve your old self and layer me on top of it.  It was the conflict that made it so destructive.  She seems to have simply radically changed herself, though whether that’s better or worse I don’t know.”

“If there aren’t negative consequences to her from what she’s done, I’ll eat my metaphorical hat.”  Luna sighed.  “Still, for the moment she’s needed as she is to help us get back to the Crystal Empire.”

“For the moment,” Nightmare Moon allowed.  “But we’ll keep an eye on her.”

Those not given to wild and fancy flights made their way over and Luna explained what had just occurred.  Sim, naturally, was not content with the explanation and felt the need to ask questions that Luna felt really didn’t need to be asked.

“How is it that Miss Pie can perform feats here that seem to be beyond you?  Is she the master of this place now?”

“No, she’s not,” Luna answered irritably.

“Think of it like this,” Nightmare Moon put in.  “Pinkie Pie now has a water bottle which she fills and refills.  She uses every drop it can contain as efficiently as she can to produce some rather startling effects.  Luna has a lake full of water, but no matter how I lead her to it she just won’t take a drink.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier if she just, ah, ‘drank’?” Sim asked, glancing at Luna uncertainly.

“Yes.  It would,” Nightmare Moon answered, staring pointedly at Luna.

“I’m working on it,” she growled.

“Working on what?” Pinkie asked.  Rainbow has finally tired of showing off her newly fixed wings and they had all come gliding down to the ground.  Rainbow carefully set Pinkie down on the ground, but she herself remained firmly in the air.  “Working on getting us to the Crystal Empire?  Because I thought I was helping with that.”

“You are,” Luna said.  “And while time spent here doesn’t have any bearing on time in the real world, it still would probably be a good idea for us to get going.”

“Okey-do-,” Pinkie Pie began, but the familiar phrase stuck in her throat.  She paused and then tried again.  “Okay.  How do you want to do this?”

“The rest of you, stand as close together as possible once again, in a vaguely circular shape.”  Everyone shuffled to do as Luna said.  “Pinkie, you need to focus on how it feels to move this many beings.  I’ll provide the destination and the full connection to the Dreaming for you to draw on.  It’d be best if we stand on opposite sides of the group so we don’t lose anyone.”  Pinkie Pie nodded and bounced her way around the group to stand opposite Luna.

Luna closed her eyes and tried to start focusing.  “Pinkie, I need you to reach out to me,” she said.  A moment later she heard snickering and felt two somethings brush across her face.

Her eyes snapped open and she saw Pinkie’s forelegs had stretched across the group and the long white noodly appendages delicately caressed her face.  “Mentally, Pinkie.  I need you to reach out with your mind, not your legs, so we can work together on this.”

“Oh, ok!”  With a worrying slurp, the limbs retracted and Pinkie stood once more upon four normal legs.  She closed her eyes and her face screwed up with concentration.

Almost at once, Luna felt the other pony brush across her mind.  The connection was not dissimilar to linking magic in the real world.  However, the mutability of the Dreaming and those who could manipulate it meant that it was far easier to make a successful connection.  Luna could feel Pinkie’s mind through the connection.  She could feel the playfulness and joy that had once been at its core.

She could feel, too, the scars cut into that mind by Sombra, and the deeper moats cut around those wounds to isolate them.

It was my choice Pinkie thought to her in their shared mindscape.  And I was so tired of letting him hurt me even after he was gone.

So you hurt yourself even worse? Luna sent back.  This isn’t a healthy way to deal with your pain.

It was my choice.  Pinkie repeated.  And it’s changing.

That much was true.  Luna could feel the connection the Dreaming that Pinkie had formed flowing across the other mind.  Like silver poured into a mold, the Dreaming took the shape of those wounds and filled them in.  It was unmistakably different from what she had done to give rise to Nightmare Moon, but whether or not it would actually be a long term help remained to be seen.

Let me pretend to be well for now, Pinkie pleaded, and let’s do what we need to do.

In answer, Luna pulled her connection to the Dreaming to the forefront of her mind.  She fed one end of it to Pinkie, letting the other pony draw on it.  Luna saw the feeling of that rapid movement in Pinkie’s mind, and the two fit together with a satisfying click.

That left only the destination.  Luna dredged up her memories of that first encounter with Sombra all those months ago.  She embraced the feel of her sister’s prison and the cloying temptation from Sombra’s dark offer.  Pinkie flinched when that emotion was fed into the mix, but her focus didn’t falter.

Together they pushed at the combination they had made, and together they felt the movement take hold.  Abruptly, and with absolutely no warning, the group moved.  Luna opened her eyes and took in her new and depressing surroundings.

They had arrived at Sombra’s prison.

There was a moment of silence as they gazed around in awe and fear.  Then Sunlit Rooms gave voice to what everyone was thinking.

“So, now what?”

Everyone swung around to look at Luna.  Shockingly, she actually had been thinking about that particular problem.

“We need to fight Sombra on two fronts,” she said.  “In the real world and in the Dreaming.  We don’t have the power to win both fights at once, so we need to prioritize one of them.  I think we should first subdue him in the real world, and then take the fight to the Dreaming.”

Nightmare Moon snorted.  “Coward.”

Luna glared at her.  “His forces were more than a week’s travel away from his body.  He won’t have the same level of reinforcements as he will later on.  And his body is still the central point of all the connections, for all that he could make others if it were killed.”

“Coward,” Nightmare Moon said again.  “You only choose the real world because you’re afraid of facing him in the Dreaming.”

“I am afraid,” Luna snapped.  “But that’s not the only reason.  The Dreaming is riddled with his power.  The only reason he doesn’t own it already is because he doesn’t understand that it exists and that he’s using it.  If I strike from the Dreaming first and fail, he will wrest it from me entirely and we will be without any hope of victory at all.  And how I can I hope to strike successfully when I still don’t know how to fight him?”

“So what exactly is the plan?” asked Shining Armor.

“I open a portal and we launch an ambush with all the power we can bring to bear,” Luna answered.  “Ideally we incapacitate him, which will give me time to use the mantles of sun and moon to rebuild his prison and cut off his connections before finishing him off in the Dreaming.  Worse, but still acceptable, we destroy his body entirely.  Then while his network is rewiring itself around a new central point I have time to destroy it from the Dreaming.”

“All we gotta do is walk through the portal and buck that smarmy bastard in the face?”  Applejack nodded.  “Sounds like my kinda plan.”

“It does have a certain charming simplicity to it,” Sim noted.

“I still say you are running from what you need to do, but I have no doubt you’ll ignore me.”  Nightmare Moon huffed.  “Go on then, do what you will.”

Luna looked around the room.  “Does anyone besides Nightmare have any objections or ideas?”  No one said anything.  “In that case there is no sense in waiting.  I will begin to make the portal.  Everyone ready yourselves for the fight.”

There were quiet sighs, but no one protested.  It took only a thought for most of them to don their arms and armor.  Applejack’s huge heavy black armor fell into place with a clang, but most were quieter as they prepared.  Soon enough, they were as ready as they were going to be.

Luna turned her thoughts toward the portal and the battle to come


***


“It’s no use,” Luna growled some time later.  Possibly hours or days, probably not weeks or minutes, but it was so hard to tell after all.  She let her magic slip away from her grasp and slumped to ground that briefly turned into soft grass to catch her, before returning to cold crystal.  “I can’t open a portal.  Or not a safe one, anyway.”

“Why not?” Dash demanded, her new wings fluttering anxiously.  “How are we going to fight Sombra if we can’t get back to the real world?”

“It’s the connections between Sombra and the ponies he controls,” Luna explained.  She gestured at a very particular section of the cavernous chamber in which they stood. “Sombra’s physical body is right there, but that means the connections here are so numerous and thick there’s practically no space that they don’t occupy.  If I open a portal through one of those connections, it’ll give Sombra purchase in our minds from the get go.  Our ambush would be doomed from the start.”

“Couldn’t you jes’ open one of those portals further away?” Applejack asked.  She’d been ready to storm through the portal and despite the time that had passed still stood rigid in her massive set of armor.

“At ease, soldier.  No sense tiring yourself out if we’re not going to be moving for a bit.”  Shining Armor suited action to words and let his weapon rest on the ground as he took a seat.  “And I’d wager that if we moved far enough away for the princess to open a portal then we’d be too far out to launch an attack.”

“We’d have to go all the way out to the city,” Luna confirmed.  “I have no doubt Sombra would find a way to stop us long before we got anywhere near his real body.”

“Not that we actually have any concrete idea of what we’re going to do when we find it anyway,” Rarity grumbled.

“Th’ princess told us, we just hit him with everything we’ve got,” Applejack responded as she let herself relax a little.  “You didn’t have a problem with it before.”

“We’ll I’ve had plenty of time to think twice.  And I think a plan this simple makes this sound like a suicide run,” Rarity snapped back.

“Why do you permit this foolish little pony to voice defiance?” Nightmare asked with honest curiosity.

“Not helping,” Luna ground out, rounding on Nightmare.

“None of this is helping,” Sim cut in sharply.  “We’ve been in close quarters for a long time and everypony is out of sorts.  But snapping at one another is not going improve our situation.  Perhaps a few minutes’ rest is in order.  Wouldn’t you agree, Princess?”

Luna appreciated Sim’s attempt to defer to her, though she knew it fooled no pony.  “Yes, that’s a good idea.  Everyone take five while I think on the portal problem.”

The small group splintered as they all tried to put as much space between themselves and the other ponies that had been getting on their nerves.  Dash, Gilda, and Thraxus took one nook along the cavern’s walls.  They sat with their sides just touching so they covered each other’s blind spots and conversed in low tones.  They almost seemed like a single entity, one pony-griffon-dragon hybrid driven forward by Dash’s unbending will.  Only the concerned glances the other two shot Dash and her wings when the pegasus wasn’t looking revealed their concern for their friend.

Sim and Iolite stood against the wall, still as the crystals and stone their scale resembled.  They did not sleep, for true restful sleep was impossible inside the Dreaming, but they closed their eyes and became for all the world like statues.

Rarity and Applejack clustered close around Pinkie Pie, still adjusting to the dramatic changes in her appearance and mannerisms. Despite her new form and newfound strength, she still seemed to take comfort in the presence of her friends.  Luna couldn’t help but hope that Rarity and Applejack’s presence would help Pinkie heal in a less artificial manner than the one she had chosen.  Shining Amor had settled near enough the trio to offer what comfort he could while staying far enough away to refrain from intruding.

Sunlit Rooms, that dear adaptable bureaucrat, had stayed close.  She’d long since mastered the crucial art of being present without being distracting and Luna appreciated her company.  Nightmare had stayed nearby as well, but her presence offered only pressure rather than relief.

“The problem,” Luna thought aloud, “is these dark threads.  I need to cut them to clear room for a portal.  To change anything in the Dreaming requires a special type of focus and building a portal requires an entirely different kind.  Plus, Sombra’s connections probably reassert themselves if my focus on them wavers at all, so I can’t figure out a way to cut a bunch of threads and then create the portal afterwards.  Hmm.”

“It’s frustrating, to get so close and then be stopped.”  Sunlit shivered.  “I just want it to be over even though I’m dreading what will happen.”

“The waiting and wondering before battle is the worst part.  And it’s even worse when we’re going to have to fight with so few actual soldiers.”  Luna glanced over at Nightmare.  “I don’t suppose you could magic up a few hundred more of you?  I’d relish the chance to use you as cannon fodder or an equine shield.”

“Ha, ha, no.  I don’t even have a body in the real world, remember?  Now that I’ve materialized and separated from you I doubt I can even live in your head anymore, let alone have a physical body.”  Nightmare snorted.  “Of course, this is all dependent on you lot being able to get anywhere.”

More time passed without change, though it was hard for Luna to tell exactly how much.  She thought that she had never spent this long in the Dreaming without a break, but without meals or sleep and with the unchanging light it was impossible to be certain.  The others took the delay as best they could, but Luna could tell their spirits were flagging.

Luna had zoned out trying to think of a solution when a mysterious force tugged her back to awareness.  She glanced around the cavern and saw no obvious source.  Still, there was an electric feeling in the air, like the gathering potential before a lightning strike.

“Ready yourselves everyone,” she called out.  “Something approaches.”  Groans answered her as the others tried to cudgel their strained minds and limbs back to readiness.

While the others donned armor and rose, Luna stood stock still, casting all her senses a wide as she could.  She need not have bothered.  The next tug, when it came, was forceful enough that she couldn’t possibly have missed it.  She could now tell that it was not a physical force.  Instead, it reached within her and pulled on some part of her magic.

“What’s going on princess?” Sunlit Rooms asked, glancing around with concern.  “Everything seems the same.”

“I’m not sure,” Luna admitted.  “Something is pulling on me, but—“ she broke off, interrupted by a third tug.  If the second had been noticeable the third was nearly undeniable.  Luna gasped and stumbled to her knees amid cries of alarm.

A claw reached deep into her chest, deep into the home of her magic and sought to pull out a piece of it.  Reflexively, Luna resisted.  She curled in on herself and endured the crushing force that sought to divide her.  When at last the force retreated it left her gasping for air she didn’t even need.  A clamor of concerned voices burbled over her.

“Was that Sombra?”

“Are you under attack?”

“How can we help?”

“Enough!” Luna shouted in the Royal Canterlot Voice, forcing silence upon her companions.  “Please I need to focus.  Stay ready.”  There were nods of acknowledgement and Luna turned her focus inward.

With a closer observation of her own magical self, Luna realized that the force that sought to divide her had not attacked randomly.  It had sought to remove a specific piece of her magic.  But which?

As Luna pondered, the force returned and Luna knew immediately that there would be no denying it this time.  Out of sheer stubbornness she resisted anyway.  Even as she did so, she looked inside to find the piece of herself that she would soon be losing.

It was the mantle of the sun.  The force came, not from without, but from within.  It came from the right to the sun that Luna had possessed since Celestia’s disappearance.  The mantle sought now to leave Luna, as if it was being called to its true home.  But that would mean…

Clinging to a sudden impossible hope, Luna released her hold on the mantle of the sun and sent it winging on its way carrying her fondest wish with it.  Unsurprisingly, the mantle manifested in the Dreaming as an orb of light.  Even as the cavern swam back into view, Luna saw the orb hover in front of her chest.  It swirled around her once, suffusing her with the warmth she’d long since come to associate with her sister.  Then it gently alighted on the amber tips of her mane that the mantle’s presence had brought.  A goodbye kiss, of a sort.

Zipping up to eye level, the orb bobbed once and then shot away.  Luna surged to her feet, startling the ponies into falling backward.  “After it!” she cried, suiting action to words.

Luna ran down the corridor after the orb.  It simply phased through walls as if they weren’t there and, had they been in the real world, Luna would never have been able to follow it.  This was the Dreaming, however, and here walls were only as solid as she needed them to be.  And at that moment she needed nothing more fervently than for them to be out of her way.

She heard shouts from behind her the first time she galloped through a wall as if it wasn’t there.  A part of her worried that they would stop and the group would be split up.  But they had faith in the princess and the hoofsteps from behind her confirmed that they hadn’t hesitated to follow her through the apparently solid wall.

It proved a short run and Luna broke through a final wall only to skid to a stop inches from vast pit.  Luna threw up a wall to prevent anypony from running over the edge and then turned her attention to the orb.

The golden orb hovered above the center of the pit.  It seemed to be waiting for something.  Luna could still feel a slight connection to it, but that connection was growing more and more tenuous with every passing moment.

Suddenly, Luna felt the last threads of the connection snap and the golden orb exploded in a brilliant radiance, suffusing the area with the light and the warmth of the sun.  Luna knew then that the mantle of the sun had moved on to where it truly belonged, though a small piece of it remained within her to lighten her mane with the colors of sunrise.

That feeling of the sun descending reminded Luna of when it had first come to her and how, in that instant, it had burned away the dark threads of Sombra’s magic.  If the mantle had burned away the shadows it might offer the chance Luna had desperately been seeking.

Reaching for her magic, Luna felt the buzz of her true sight fall over her eyes.  She scanned her surroundings and saw that her supposition had been correct.  Sombra was more powerful than he had been then and the frayed ends of his disrupted connections remained plain to her sight.  Those same frayed ends guaranteed the chance, for if they were present that meant there was an area free of Sombra’s control.

The gap would not last long.  Luna could already see the threads reknitting themselves, stretching to reconnect the broken pieces and reassert Sombra’s control.

“There’s a gap in Sombra’s control,” Luna called to the others.  “I can make the portal, but it won’t last long.  Everyone be ready to move the second it forms.”

“I’ll get them through, Princess,” Captain Armor confirmed.  “You just make the path and we’ll charge ahead.”

Luna nodded, already turning away to focus on the portal.  In the short time she’d spent talking the threads had already made noticeable progress.  The creeping sense of motion out of the corner of her eye made it difficult to summon the proper state of mind necessary to form the portal.

Every time Luna got close to achieving the rigidity of perception necessary to move back into the real world, the creeping threads would intrude and draw her attention back to their desperate circumstances.  Like a command not to think of pink elephants, every time Luna tried to push away the threads they became all she could think of.

Enough was enough, Luna decided, pushing against it wasn’t going to work.  Luna dropped the portal and closed her eyes.  She took a moment, focusing only on her breathing, to acknowledge her own fear, and the pressure put upon her by the creeping threads.  It cost valuable time, yes, but Luna was certain had she not spent it then there would have been no portal at all.

The moment was sufficient to let the threads dwell in her mind without disturbing her focus on the portal.  She accepted and acknowledged both and as she did so she finally felt the portal begin to come together.

Reality required concreteness.  Luna focused on the simple physical facts.  The rough stone and crystal underhoof.  The cool dry cavern air.  The sensations of breath and beating heart.  All the little feelings that made up living were gathered together and knit into a gateway away from the fluidity of the Dreaming.

Luna was gratified to see her efforts yield results and she felt a sharp glow of pride as the portal formed, though that pride was tempered by fear at the progress made by Sombra’s threads.

“Quickly!” she urged, “through the portal.  There’s less than a minute before Sombra’s influence disrupts it.”

“Go!” Captain Armor ordered and Rainbow Dash was off like a shot, speeding through the portal with bloodthirsty grin upon her face.

Close behind Dash came the thundering form of Applejack, fully clad in that suit of armor so heavy that even the Dreaming clanged with every step she took.  The others moved in behind them.

“Faster, faster,” Luna moaned, straining to keep the portal open and away from Sombra’s fast-recovering threads.

As Sim entered the portal Luna came to the certain realization that they would not make it in time.  One thread in particular was less than an inch away from the portal and contact was imminent.

Luna knew what she had to do.  The thread was in the Dreaming and it was doing something she did not want it to.  That could not be allowed to stand.

Nightmare is going to be so pleased, she thought wryly.  Then she dove even deeper into her ocean of self, embracing every current and undertow.  Her will sharpened.  This was the Dreaming and she was master here and no thread of darkness would triumph over her.

Luna felt her will catch on the thread.  Her magic flared, but in this match strength of will was all that mattered.  It was challenging, but the greater challenge was handling the portal at the same time.  Pinkie could probably have held the shadow back, given the strength in the Dreaming she’d displayed and the connection to it she now possessed.

Such thoughts, true as they might be, were distractions Luna could ill afford and in the moment she spared to think that the thread had crept forward another half inch.  Dimly, she saw Iolite, last of her companions save Captain Armor and Sunlit Rooms, pass through the portal.  At the same time, she came to a startling realization.

She could not hold back the thread, hold open the portal, and pass through herself.  In the moment she took to pass through, the thread would reach the portal.  Sombra could not control her, that much was still true, but he would have direct access to her unshielded mind and there was no telling what damage he might do.

“Captain, I must hold the portal here,” she called to Shining Armor who had unsurprisingly insisted on being the last through.  “Look for Celestia.  Look for the other alicorn to aid you against Sombra.”

“Princess, no-“

Captain Armor continued to protest instead of going through the portal.  He said something, some further protest, but Luna didn’t have the focus to spare for listening.  They would need a soldier for the fight on the other side, so she had to make him go through.  Could she do that?  Not alone.

“Sunlit Rooms!” she called desperately.

The pegasus paused at the very boundary of the portal.  She looked back and met Luna’s eyes and Luna hoped she could somehow read the message that was written there.

As far as Luna knew, Sunlit Rooms had never failed her, and she did not fail her then.  She understood at once, and kicked sharply off the ground.  Sunlit used her wings to flip herself in a backwards loop, zooming in behind Shining Armor at high speed.

He was so focused on protesting to Luna that he didn’t even brace himself as she crashed into him, knocking him head over hooves.  He tumbled and rolled, but he passed through the portal as he did so, and with less than a millimeter to spare between the thread and the portal.  Still he was through the portal.  Sunlit Rooms, thrown off course by the impact, rolled next to the portal and bumped into Luna instead.

Small though it was, the jostling ruined Luna’s focus, and caused her to lose her hold on Sombra’s thread.  It speared through the portal and ruined the only path back to the real world.

That was that.  Luna allowed the portal itself to fade.  Even knowing that it had been corrupted Luna couldn’t help feeling increasingly trapped as the swirling dark mirror of the portal dwindled to a shadow and then vanished.

There was no way out.

While her companions faced down Sombra, Luna was trapped in the Dreaming with only her Nightmare and her bureaucrat for company.
> Arc 3 Chapter 9: A Burden Shared
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight floated over Hvergelmir on her brand new wings.  Flying helped her.  Magic was her ever-present companion, but flying was new.  To have both at once set her apart from all of her sets of memories, save one.  But Celestia had gone to great lengths to make sure those memories were set apart, and for that she was grateful.

She opened her eyes and was greeted with a curious double vision.  One eye, the one she’d had as a unicorn, still saw the world as it always had.  It swept across the rough rock of the cavern and could only barely make out where Spike slept with his scales flush against the wall.

Within her formerly empty eye socket, she could feel a tiny piece of the mantle of the sun that now rested within her.  It bestowed a purer sight, one that beheld magic directly in its most natural form.  To that vision, Spike’s soulfire burned with the steady lavender light of her own magic.

Looking around, that eye could see the brilliant outpouring of magic from Hvergelmir as a ray of light rising all around her.  Wrapped with smothering tightness around that ray, and attempting to push ever closer, was the dark cloak of Sombra’s magic.  Hvergelmir was cleansed temporarily due to Twilight’s ascension and reclaiming of the crystal ponies’ memories, but Sombra had the strength of the living and he would soon reclaim it.

A fourth source of magic sprang into being in the cavern.  It manifested itself to Twilight’s new vision as a dark swirl of magic.  Not dark like the oil slick of Sombra’s magic, but dark like the velvet deepness of the night sky.  Luna’s magic and, Celestia’s memories told her, the magic of the Dreaming.

The dark swirl grew and when it reached the height of two ponies it began to disgorge its contents.  Rainbow was the first out, rocketing through at high speed, her hooves sparking with gathered energy.  Applejack followed close behind with a heavy charge.

In a flash, Twilight realized that the armored pony was too heavy and moving too fast to stop before the edge of the pit.  With far less effort than she expected it to require, Twilight reached for her magic and covered over the entire pit with a glimmering layer of magic strong enough to support a pony, even one as heavy as the armored Applejack.  Sure enough, Applejack slid over the edge with a yelp, only to let out a relieved sigh as the lavender surface held her weight.

“Thanks Twi,” she shouted without looking up, recognizing the pony responsible from the color of the magic.

Dash, however, did scan the rim of the pit looking for Twilight.  When the rim didn’t prove to hold her friend Dash thought to look up.  The sight of Twilight hovering there put her back on her guard.  Her hooves came up and electricity crackled once more.

“Who are you?” she demanded, seconds from firing off a bolt of lightning.

“I was Twilight Sparkle.”  Twilight had expected her voice to croak from long disuse.  It had been subjective centuries since she’d last spoken after all.  However, all that time had passed in her mind, and her body had been renewed by her transformation besides.  Her voice was rich and deep.  It echoed as she spoke, as if thousands of voices spoke with her.

Grand as it seemed, it was altogether unsuitable for greeting old friends.  Celestia’s memories quickly provided guidance on how to make herself sound normal, and she altered her voice between one sentence and the next.

“I am the alicorn of Twilight,” she continued, speaking only for herself.  “Just Twilight now.”

“Wrong answer,” Dash growled.  “Like I’d believe Twilight suddenly grew wings.”  With a flap of her wings she tried to charge forward for a lightning assisted kick, only to be brought up short by a claw grasping her tail.

“It’s Twilight,” Spike confirmed, having woken up when the portal opened.  He pulled Rainbow Dash back down towards the ground, despite her struggles.  “I would never mistake her, no matter how she changed.”

Twilight flew down to the others and wrapped her hooves around Spike in a tight hug.  “I kept my promises,” she said quietly to him, and only to him.  “Both of them.  And if you hadn’t asked me to make those promises, I would not be standing here now.  For better or for worse.”

“Twilight!  What in the hay happened to you, sugarcube?”

“It’s a long story, Applejack, one I don’t think we have time for just now.”

A scream cut through the cavern and Twilight whipped around, magic at the ready.  A pony she could only recognize as Pinkie Pie thanks to the poufy, if now golden, mane was hunched over clutching her head.  Twilight could see by the absence of the shadow insider her that Pinkie was free of Sombra’s control, but she could also see a thin silver thread running from Pinkie’s head through the portal to the Dreaming.

“It’s gone!  It’s gone it’s gone it’s gone it’s gone,” she wailed.  Her head snapped up and her eyes fixed on the portal.  “I have to go back.”

She darted forward, only to be caught be Rarity.  “You can’t, Pinkie.  Princess Luna could barely get the portal open the first time.  You’ll be trapped if you go back.”

Pinkie writhed in Rarity’s grip with a manic strength.  “Let me go.  Please!”  With a sudden lunge she broke free and hurtled towards the portal.

The moment before she touched it, Shining Armor came tumbling out of it and knocked them both backwards.  Pinkie was first to regain her hooves and she dove again at the rapidly closing portal.  It snapped shut just as she would have crossed through it, and she landed stomach-first on the hard ground.

“Nooooo,” came her keening cry.

“Princess,” Shining Armor cried, having gotten back to his hooves.  “No!  What will we do without you?”

“What we have to,” Twilight said, coming up beside him.  “I will hear your report in a minute, Captain, but first I need quiet while I comfort Pinkie Pie.”

Captain Armor blinked, but he reflexively snapped a salute and zipped his mouth.  Satisfied, Twilight joined Applejack, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash in clustering around the sobbing Pinkie Pie.  Applejack in her armor was too hard to offer a comforting hug, so she stood guard while the others nestled close to Pinkie to offer what comfort they could.

“What happened to her?” Twilight asked Rarity in an undertone.  “Briefly.”

“She separated from Sombra in the Dreaming, and beat him down,” Rarity said with evident satisfaction.  “But she was still hurting.  A little while later she and the princess went aside.  When they came back her coat was paler than mine, but she seemed more like her old self.  Then she somehow healed Dash’s wings.”

“Dash’s wings were hurt?  No, never mind.  We need to focus on Pinkie now.”  Dash nodded in agreement with Twilight’s words.

Twilight looked down at Pinkie, peering more closely with her new sight.  She could just make out a skein of silver magic that glowed like moonlight strung through Pinkie’s mind.  Even as she watched it faded further and Pinkie trembling grew worse.

“It’s not fair,” she cried.  “I was ok.  For the first time in so long I felt ok.”

“Sombra’s still gone,” Twilight said gently.  “There’s no trace of him in you anymore.”

“Right.” Pinkie sniffed.  “Right.  He is gone.  Even if I’m not ok, he’s not there to hurt me.  Even if all the old hurts are still there, he isn’t.”

Slowly, after many soothing words and whispered reassurances, Pinkie’s breathing slowed.  Twilight, cloistered among her friends and forced to comfort she who had once been the happiest pony Twilight had even known, couldn’t help but think back on what had happened to the ponies who had followed her north out of friendship.

Rarity, the pony who couldn’t handle stepping in a puddle without a fainting couch, had somehow changed the least amidst all the hardship.  She had borne their trials and tribulations with the same grace and elegance that she turned to every task.  In fact, as Twilight looked closer, she realized that there were the usual traces of expertly applied mascara and eye liner on that beautiful pony’s face.  Just how Rarity had managed to keep her makeup flawless through everything Twilight couldn’t even imagine.

Applejack, truthfully, hadn’t changed much either.  She had always been strong and taken pride in that strength.  Standing guard over her friends was exactly where she’d have chosen to be before, and where she would choose to be now.  But her guard was different now, hidden as her face was in the depths of a helmet so deep that no trace of a living being could be seen from the outside.  In ordinary times she never would have donned that monstrous black armor, never become a calamitous titan that shook the earth she’d rather have tilled.

Rainbow Dash, though, that was where the changes began in earnest.  Her loyalty had never wavered, but before it had been a light and joyous thing.  She had taken pleasure from it, and it had flowed naturally and freely from her inner self.  There was no joy in it now.  Her loyalty had had been forged in the crucible of that pony’s funeral pyre, and now burned from her eyes with unbridled intensity.  It wielded Gilda and Thraxus like tools, set them to watching her back with no more than a flick of her eyes.  She was all driven purpose now.  Twilight wondered if she even remembered how to fly for pleasure instead of necessity and war.

Twilight too had changed.  Like Rainbow Dash, everything she had thought she was had been fed into a crucible, and the pony that had come out was irrevocably different.  But then, she knew who she was.  She had plenty of time for introspection as she trod the path of memories.  No, by thinking of herself now she was merely delaying her thoughts from reaching for the last one, no, last two of her friends.

Pinkie Pie had broken.  There was no other word for it.  She had been hurt in ways that Twilight, for all her millennia of memories and lives, had no basis for understanding.  She had lost the sanctity of her mind and the very color from her coat.  It spoke to her strength, not her weakness, that she could even cry.  Perhaps she was whole in some other plane, somehow, but Twilight doubted if she could ever laugh again in the real world.  It would not have happened if she had not followed Twilight north.  She would have been lost to Sombra, yes, but not signaled out torment as she had been.

And then there was the hole in the world.  The body that should have been there.  The warm voice that would have known just how to comfort Pinkie, that could have doused the burning intensity in Rainbow’s eyes, that could have extricated Applejack from her armored shell.  Even after all the subjective time Twilight had spent dwelling in others memories and dealing with her own, it still hurt to think of her.

What a sad and sorry lot the Elements of Harmony had become.

Twilight spared a moment’s thought for the physical Elements of Harmony as a solution to their problems.  If only they could summon that beautiful rainbow and let it blast away Sombra and all the pain his malice has wrought.  But the necklaces and crown had been lost somewhere along the way, and the five could not have wielded them anyway, not as they were.  No, it was by their own strength or not at all that they would win the day.

To that end, now that Pinkie’s crying had dwindled to the occasional shuddering breath, Twilight gently pulled herself apart and stood.  Her eyes drifted to where Iolite and Spike stood together, talking animatedly.  He caught Twilight’s glance and nodded to her.  She was relieved to find herself simply happy for their reunion.  At the moment there were few enough causes for joy in the world, and she would not want to begrudge her brother one out of some misplaced sense of jealousy.

Captain Armor and Sim came to stand beside her, both looking nervously around the cavern.  Though it felt like much longer, scarcely ten minutes had passed since they’d come through the portal, and they clearly feared Somba’s response.

“Captain, report,” Twilight said with a brusqueness she knew would comfort Shining Armor’s soldier’s heart.

He drew himself up.  “Yes sir.  When our army realized that our reinforcements had been co-opted, Princess Luna fled with us into another realm that she called the Dreaming.”

Twilight nodded.  “I am familiar with the Dreaming.  Continue.”

“We returned here to launch an ambush on Sombra and incapacitate or kill his original body, if possible.  Princess Luna had difficulty opening the portal and proved unable to hold it open long enough for her to pass through.  I attempted to convince her to precede me through the portal, but,” he paused and dropped his gaze, “I was unsuccessful”

“Now that I am here it may be that her remaining in the Dreaming was for the best,” she said, causing Shining Armor to raise his head again.  “Did she have a plan for after the ambush?”

“She believed that after he was subdued she would be able to fight Sombra from the Dreaming and together cause him some manner of permanent harm.  I don’t think she had any firm plans though.”

“Hmm.” Twilight weighed her options.  On the whole, she thought an ambush sounded like as good a plan as any.  Even as an immortal she didn’t like her odds against Sombra one-on-one.  However, with the element of surprise as well as Rainbow Dash and the dragons they had enough heavy hitters to potentially break through the defenses of a Sombra’s original body.  “Right, then the ambush is what we’ll do,” she said aloud.

“There’s one small problem with that,” a cheery and high-pitched voice said.

Twilight spun at the unfamiliar voice and found a small white filly standing next to her clump of friends.  The filly waved enthusiastically.

“Hiya Twilight!  It’s been a while.”

“Sweetie Bell! What are you doing here?” Rarity gazed uncomprehendingly over at her sister, panic writ plain on her face.  “You should be safe in Ponyville.”

“Oh, there’s no place safe.  Not from King Sombra.”  Sweetie’s voice was still cheery, contrasting terribly with the fear on the faces of all the ponies present.

“Ah’m here too big sister!”

“Applebloom,” was Applejack’s stricken reply.  Her little sister tapped on her black armor and giggled as it rang like a bell.

“And me!  I know I’m not your sister, but I am your number one fan Rainbow Dash!”

“Squirt?  He got you too?”  Rainbow Dash’s expression was heartbreaking to see, though only Gilda, Thraxus, and Twilight had the presence of mind to keep an eye on her.  It was the expression of a pony who thought they’d long since lost everything there was to lose.  Only to find that the universe takes that kind of despair as incentive to get creative.  She did not break, though.  Say this for Rainbow Dash, she never lacked in courage.

“Tell me, kid, would you rather be dead than enslaved?”  Her voice cracked as she spoke.  Instead of explaining further she raised a hoof and let the lightning crackling there speak for her.  There was a terrible desolate emptiness in her face.  That this should be all she could offer to somepony she cared about was very nearly more than she could bear.  It was more than she should have had to bear, but she accepted it because it was the only display of loyalty left to her.  “I’ll do it if you just say the word.”

“What are you crazy?” Scootaloo eyed the hoof nervously.  “No thank you.  I know exactly how much it hurts to get hit with that, and I’d really rather if you didn’t.”

“Enough of this farce, Sombra.”  Unsure of which crusader to speak to, Twilight spoke to all three.  “You have the crusaders, there’s no need to torture them so.”

Sweetie Bell rolled her eyes.  “So dramatic, we’re hardly being tortured.  Just possessed a little bit.  You all get why we’re here, right?”

Twilight stepped forward and faced the filly that spoke for her foe.  “We understand.  What do you want from us so badly that you’d take our loved ones to get it?”

Sweetie Bell’s mouth yawned bone creakingly wide, and Sombra’s deep voice issued from the comically mismatched throat.  “I just want to talk. Face-to-face.  Especially with you, Twilight.  I think you can satisfy my curiosity on one or two minor points.  Congratulations on your ascension, by the way.  Now, the three little ones will lead you to me.  I am not far.”

“Alright, we’ll come.  We wanted planned to come to you anyway.”  Twilight turned to the still crackling Rainbow Dash.  “Patience, Dash.  Hold that anger tight.  You need control now, not just raw fury.”

“I’ve learned control. Watch,” Dash said flatly.  Her hooves had not stopped moving, gathering electricity and she was crackling with power and radiating enmity as she spoke.  Then she closed her eyes and brought her hooves close together.  As they touched she closed her eyes and, Twilight could see Dash’s magic guiding the electricity to within her skin.

Dash opened her eyes and the only trace of the electricity she was storing was in the glowing of her eyes and the occasional discharges from the tips of her mane.  Staring at Scootaloo as if she could glare right through to Sombra, Dash slowly lowered herself and let her hooves touch the ground without discharging.

Scootaloo clapped with apparently genuine enthusiasm.  “Wow! Rainbow Dash, that was soooooo cool!”

Twilight could hear Dash’s teeth grinding, but the tempestuous pony held her peace.  Looking at her other companions, Twilight saw no fear.  Even Pinkie seemed more despairing than afraid, though that was hardly better.  There was resolve aplenty to be found as they met her questioning gaze, and so there was no reason to delay.

“Lead on, crusaders,” she said.

“CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS HOSTAGES YAY!”


***


Luna had grown to hate the Dreaming’s version of the cavern that housed Sombra.  Still, it was familiar and she’d found herself drawn back to it.  This was where the others were fighting, she knew, and Luna couldn’t help but feel as if she was offering some form of moral support just by being in the same place, even if she couldn’t make her way there herself.

That was a lie, of course, as Nightmare Moon was so eager to remind her.  There was no help she could offer from the Dreaming, not as she was.  That was the crux of the matter.

“You are out of options,” Nightmare said flatly.  “Your friends have gone to face Sombra alone and the only way you can help them is by reclaiming the Dreaming.  You’ve started to already.  You cleared those walls while chasing the mantle of the sun with barely a thought after all.  Why do you hesitate now?”

“I’m not hesitating,” Luna snapped.

“Oh you’re hanging out here for fun, then?” came the biting retort.

“I’m not!”

“Then prove it!”

They were inches apart, screaming in one another’s face.  With her last shout Nightmare Moon held out her hoof.  “Claim me.  Rule the Dreaming as you are meant to.”

Luna slapped the hoof aside and turned away.  “It’s not right.  I can feel it.  Something within me is shouting that claiming the Dreaming will do nothing.”

“Well while you sit here having that feeling your friends are facing death.  Or worse.  So you want to try again, Princess?  What’s really stopping you?”

“You want the truth?  Fine, I’ll tell you the truth.”  Luna stalked back and forth across the cavern floor like it had wronged her personally, every step a sharp crack of hoof on stone.  “I don’t want to rule.  Not the Dreaming, not the real world.  I don’t want any of this and I’m not sure I should have it in any case.”

“What are you talking about?” Nightmare asked, genuinely baffled.  “You created me out of a desire to rule.  You revolted against Celestia for the same reason.  You’ve been fighting with Twilight for control for the past six months.  What do you mean you don’t want this?”

“It’s been building for a long time, but I think I finally realized it when I felt what a relief it was to be relieved of the burden of the mantle of the sun.”  Luna sighed and looked down.  “It was like I could breathe again for the first time since Celestia disappeared.  I don’t want to be the pony everypony looks to and, frankly, I did a pretty poor job of it when I was.”

“Luna, that’s not really true.”  It was quietly hilarious to see Nightmare looking awkward and pitying but Luna was in no mood to enjoy the other pony’s discomfort.

“It was my temper tantrum that led Celestia to disappear.  My poorly constructed magic that set Sombra free.  My misguided leadership of the nobles and poor attempt at a new form of government that gave him an opening to begin possessing ponies.”

“No, Luna-“ Nightmare tried to break in, but Luna was off in her own world.

“Then I hid for six months and left everything to Twilight and, when I finally took over again, I led my army straight into a trap.”

“LUNA!” Nightmare shouted, breaking through the other pony’s litany of failure.  Luna looked up, almost surprised at the presence of Nightmare.  “Luna, you have had your successes as well.  No leader can dwell overmuch on their failures.  Your sister certainly had her fair share, but she did not let it slow her.”

“You’re right,” Luna said slowly.  “I did do some things right.”

“Exactly,” said Nightmare, sounding relieved.  “Now, would you please—“

“Hush,” Luna said absently, wandering away.  “I need to think.”

Nightmare flared her wings in exasperation.  “Fine. It’s not my friends that are dying.”

Luna ignored Nightmare’s grumbling and tried to catch hold of the idea she could sense fluttering just out of sight, sparked by Nightmare’s comments about her successes.

She had had some success, it was true.  Finding a way out of the Dreaming for the others had been her accomplishment, albeit one highly dependent on luck.  And there had been other moments Luna remembered with pride over these past few months.  The peace talks with the dragons, as badly as it had gone awry, was still a source of pride with regards to how she had handled it.

Those peace talks had also enabled her to play the hero.  To arrive at the last moment and save the day for her army.  Luna still felt the warm glow from that one moment when she’d saved them all, brighter and hotter than the magma that had surrounded her.

Unbidden, familiar notes came to her.  The Anthem of the Lunar Republic.  Perhaps the moment when she had been happiest in recent memory, the moment when she felt most like herself.  Or, more precisely, she felt most like the pony she wanted to be.

What did all these moments have in common, Luna asked herself.  They had been unexpected.  Impromptu demonstrations of her compassion and care for her little ponies.

For she did care, Luna reaffirmed.  Her heart ached for every pony she’d brought north who would never go home.  Even now it beat with terror for the ponies she’d practically delivered into Sombra’s lap.  She did care and she could lead when she had to.  The anthem proved that more than anything else.  So why did she deny Nightmare’s demand that she retake dominion over the Dreaming?

Because dominion was not her role.

Luna did not want to give orders, she wanted to give of herself.  She had bared her most private soul to her soldiers and they had responded by following her into an act of creation of the greatest beauty she’d known.

What would that mean, then?  To give up her role in the Dreaming entirely and trust in serendipity to guide her to the part she should play?  No.  A conscious repudiation of control would not yield the end she sought.  She did not want to give up, she wanted to give to, but she was alone.

Or was she?  Those few simple notes of the Anthem of the Lunar Republic, hummed by a pony that had more faith in her than she deserved, still floated to her ears.  There she was.  Sunlit Rooms.  It was so easy to forget she was there, to slip into routines in which she fit seamlessly.  She had silently followed Luna back to the cavern and held her peace, not wanting to intrude while Luna argued with Nightmare Moon.  Now, when she knew Luna needed her, she spoke up.

“You looked like you could use a reminder of better times,” Sunlit said, smiling gently.

“I did, thank you,” Luna said, smiling back.  “You’ve stood by me for far longer that I deserved.”  Luna laughed.  “To think you started as my secretary!”

Sunlit Rooms looked away, suddenly discomfited.  “I had to stay with you.  This is all my fault.  I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry for everything.  I have to tell you.  I’ve wanted to for so long, but I just couldn’t.  But it’s so late now.  And it might matter.  So I have to speak.”

Luna was taken aback at the torrent of words.  “Easy, Sunlit.  I don’t know where this sudden confession comes from, but I assure you that it is not your fault.  And even if it was, after everything you’ve done for me, there is very little you could do that I could not forgive.  If it bothers you so, it can wait till this is ended.  One way or another.”

“No.”  Sunlit Rooms took a shuddering breath and drew herself up.  “No, I need to tell you now.  It’s tied in with everything else, and you might need to know.  I just don’t know how to start.”

“At the beginning,” Luna offered.  She couldn’t have said where Sunlit Rooms was going with her impromptu need to speak, but it felt like a continuation of her previous thoughts, rather than a tangent.  She had wanted to give to somepony and now at the very least she could offer Sunlit Rooms a sympathetic ear.

“Right, at the beginning.  Okay.”  She nodded to herself.  “Do you remember the story I told you about how I got my cutie mark?”

“I’d hardly forget a story like that,” Luna said, smiling.  “You burned down the Cloudsdale town hall as I recall.”

“That’s what I told you, and that’s what I remembered.  But it never happened.”  Sunlit Rooms stood and started to pace.  “There was no record of the town hall ever burning down, but it was still referenced in my letter of acceptance as a court secretary.”

“That makes no sense,” Luna said, frowning.

“That’s what I thought too, so I dug deeper and once I did everything fell apart.  I’m paid from an escrow account that was set aside decades ago and not touched until recently, rather than the royal payroll.”

“Odd, but not damningly strange,” Luna objected, but Sunlit Rooms continued as if she hadn’t heard.

“My apartment was owned by the crown through a number of shell companies, but again hadn’t been inhabited until recently.  Do you see what I’m getting at, Princess?”

“I’m starting to,” Luna said slowly.  She was, but she didn’t like the picture it was painting.  “Why don’t you say what you need to say?”

Sunlit Rooms stopped her pacing and sank knees before Luna in a posture of unwitting supplication.  “I sent letters to my family members.  The ones to my parents, ponies I remembered raising me, were returned because no such address or ponies existed.  My letter to my little sister was forwarded through a long and overly complicated chain, before finally being delivered to the royal castle.”  She looked up, eyes pleading or praying.

“I am Celestia.”

Though she had started to understand partway through Sunlit Rooms’ explanation, the words still hit Luna with all the force of a thunderbolt.  She rocked back and sank to her knees as well.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

Sunlit Rooms shook her head.  “I can’t be sure.  I don’t remember anything; I swear I don’t!  But in light of what you and Twilight told me had happened to her it all makes sense.  She planned to live as me, she just didn’t plan on losing herself in the process.”

It did make sense.  Luna had wondered at the extreme loyalty of this one strange bureaucrat.  Now she had her answer.  Loyalty compelled by family bonds with a built in restriction to keep from spilling the beans.  The mantle of the sun had left her which meant that either Celestia had a new body, or the mantle of the sun now belonged to another.  In either case, the restriction would no longer hold and Sunlit Rooms was finally able to share what she had figured out.  Yes, it all fit together rather neatly.

The world seemed to splinter before Luna and she saw two paths stretching out from the present.  In one, the news made her angry.  She saw it as another way her sister had intruded into her life.  She raged against Sunlit Rooms, blamed her for Celestia’s deception, and sent the little pony scurrying away in fear.  And then she sat alone with her Nightmare until the shadows came alive and devoured the Dreaming.

And down the other path…

For a single crystalline moment, the world froze, teetering on the edge of a knife.

Luna smiled.  Not a daring grin, nor a joyous celebration.  This was a small and mischievous smile.  The smile of a filly placing a frog in her sisters bed.  The world resumed as she pulled Sunlit Rooms to her hooves and wrapped her in a hug.

“It must have been hard to keep that to yourself, and hard to tell me too.  For what it’s worth, I have come to care for you as an individual, not as some twisted reflection of my sister.”

Sunlit Rooms looked up at her through tear-filled eyes.  “Really?”

“One way or another, you and Celestia are completely separated now.  You are your own pony and no one else.”  

Luna’s voiced dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.  “And if you happen to be annoyed at how Celestia treated you, I happen to have an excellent way you can get back at her.”

It was purest relief that spawned Sunlit’s smile as she broke the hug.  “You know, I would like the chance to stick it to the old mare, if you’ll pardon my prench.  What did you have in mind?”

“Celestia never dreamed.  Not once.  The Dreaming was mine and she was not permitted to even visit the outskirts the way ordinary ponies do.  The simple fact that you’re here,” Luna gestured grandly to their surroundings, “sets you apart from her.  Why don’t we compound that difference?  How would you like a direct connection to the Dreaming?”

Sunlit Rooms gasped.  “Can you do that?  Should you do that?”

“She should not!” Nightmare Moon snapped.

“You asked me to take control, Nightmare.  Well, giving is the manner in which I choose to take control,” Luna said firmly.

“Giving? Ha!”  Nightmare snorted derisively.  “What good will it do to scatter your power over the Dreaming among ponies like Pinkie Pie or Sunlit Rooms?  How does this help us at all?”

“I don’t know, exactly,” Luna admitted.  She’d been playing it by ear, following an impulse to give she didn’t fully understand.  Pinkie had proved that a connection to the Dreaming could be taken by ordinary ponies, and if it could be taken then she was confident she could give it.  She now knew she could spread her power to a number of ponies, at least in some capacity.  But what could she do with more ponies connected to the Dreaming?

Put another way the question became this: what did she need?  She needed to find a way to attack the tendrils Sombra’s connections had stabbed through the Dreaming.  Luna had been able to hold back a single one at a time, but she’d lacked the focus to do anything more than that.  With more ponies though, perhaps there was a way it could work.

“I have an idea, but to test it Sunlit Rooms needs a connection to the Dreaming.”  Luna looked from Nightmare Moon to Sunlit Rooms.  “Are you willing to give it a try, Sunlit?  If it goes awry I can always take it back.”

“If you think it best,” Sunlit said.  “I am yours to command.”

Luna shook her head.  “No, not like that.  This can’t be something I order you to do.  Like with Pinkie, it can happen only if you want it to.”

“I do want it,” Sunlit insisted.  “I want to be useful and I want to fight Sombra.”  She gave a brilliant smile.  “And I had wondered why I so enjoyed the dreams I’ve had of late.  I’m more than happy to embrace the Dreaming and push away Celestia.”

“That should be enough,” Luna said.  “Now focus on that wanting and reach out to me.”  Sunlit Rooms closed her eyes and did as she was bidden.  Nightmare Moon huffed, but she held her peace.  That left Luna to figure out exactly how to give away a piece of the Dreaming.

It had been easy when Pinkie had taken a piece.  Then all she’d had to do was allow the other pony to pull away what she needed.  Here Luna had to be proactive in surrendering a part of her and, despite her recent epiphany, it didn’t come naturally.

She looked at Sunlit Rooms, with her eyes squeezed shut and her face scrunched up in concentration.  Instead of thinking of it as a transfer of power, she tried to embrace a feeling of generosity.  Luna set her thoughts to dwelling on all that the other pony had done for her; she let her care for Sunlit Rooms well up inside and overflow.

A silver connection formed, her heart to Sunlit’s.  Simple as that, the Dreaming flowed from her and slotted neatly into Sunlit.  She didn’t change the way Pinkie had, nor did her mind undergo the same dramatic transformation.  Presumably it was because she didn’t want to change herself as desperately as Pinkie had.

Sunlit opened her eyes.  “Was that it?  I thought I felt something.”

“That was it,” Luna confirmed.

“It certainly was,” Nightmare groused.  The other two looked over at her, and found her just a little bit smaller and a shade lighter than she had been.  “Congratulations, you’ve taken another part of me.”

“That’s what you’re for, isn’t it?” Luna asked without sympathy.  “Now come on Sunlit, let’s see if my idea pans out.  Casting an eye around, she led Sunlit Rooms and Nightmare Moon over to a particularly dark thread of Sombra’s control.  Luna held her hooves above and below it.  “Can you see anything between my hooves?”

“No,” Sunlit Rooms answered.  “But this room feels worse, somehow, than it did before.  Sticky maybe, like when oil gets in your coat and mucks everything up.  And that spot between your hooves feels especially sticky.”

Luna nodded.  “That’s sensation should be what I was talking about.  Now, focus as hard as you can on the space between my hooves.  Imagine the oily feeling being cleaned away.  Scrub the space in your mind until the air itself sparkles.”  Sunlit bent herself to the task and Luna kept up an encouraging murmur.  “That’s it.  The rest of the room may be sullied but you will make this spot clean.  Remember the disinfecting power of Sunlit and bureaucracy.”  Her voice was hypnotic and she could see the effect it was having on Sunlit Rooms.

The pegasus clenched her teeth, glaring at the thread she couldn’t see.  “Come on,” she muttered to himself.  “I can feel it fighting me.  I can feel him fighting me.  But I’m not going to let him win.”

Without thinking, Luna began to hum her anthem.  Sunlit Rooms took up the melody and as she did so surprise crossed her face.  She connected with Luna, in some small way, and as she did so she found the appropriate state of mind.  Her will suddenly sheered through Sombra’s thread like a hot knife through butter.

“I did it!” Sunlit squealed in joy.  “It was just for a second, but I felt something give way!”

“Perfect Sunlit!  Well done.  Perhaps we have a chance after all.”  Luna noticed that the second Sunlit’s concentration had lapsed the thread had reknit itself.  Still, that momentary cut was enough to prove that her idea was sound.

“Ha!”  She crowed in triumph and rounded on Nightmare Moon.  “You see? If I can get enough ponies working together in the Dreaming, we can completely cut Sombra off from his network.  I couldn’t do it alone because even if my connection to the Dreaming was strong enough, my will wasn’t.  But with the Dreaming distributed among many different wills we’ll have a chance of success.”

“Too bad there’s no pony else here,” Nightmare sneered.

“There is!” Sunlit Rooms was still riding the wave of excitement at her success.  “The anthem reminded me.  All of the soldiers from the army went through the portal into the Dreaming with us. Surely they’re here somewhere.  Can’t you call them?”

Sunlit Rooms was right, Luna realized, and her enthusiasm was infectious.  The soldiers of her army were physically here in the Dreaming, though they themselves were lost to sleep.  She couldn’t wake them all.  That would strain the Dreaming beyond its limits and even Luna couldn’t say what would happen if it snapped.

However, ponies often found their way to the Dreaming through their ordinary dreams.  If she could induce lucid dreaming and pull them from their ordinary dreams into the Dreaming, that might be enough to let her assemble an army.

“It could work,” Luna said slowly.  She expanded her senses, paying attention to the froth at the edges of the Dreaming which was the border between her realm and the individual dreams of ponies.

“What are you doing?” Nightmare asked, having noticed the change in Luna’s focus.  “You’re attempting this already?”

“I’ve got a plan and an army just waiting to be called,” Luna said.  “There is no reason to delay.”

Luna let her focus drift, looking for the dreams of a pony she knew.  A sense of grit and grey caught her attention.  Barrel, the quartermaster from whom she’d requisitioned the paints for her self-portraits, who’d listened when she’d needed a sympathetic ear.  For all that he was a pegasus, his dreams were as stable as the foundations of the earth.  Love of his family mixed with pride in his work and a determination that no pony should suffer privation on his watch.  He was a perfect test case.

Reaching out with her sense of the Dreaming, Luna cupped the bubble of his dream.  She tried to gently meld it was the Dreaming itself, but the two worlds repelled one another.  She needed a mediator, something to allow a dream to enter the Dreaming.

There was an obvious solution, one that killed two birds with one stone.  Luna reached inside, not to her magic, but to the part of her being that was connected to the Dreaming.  It was harder to find than usual.  Traces of it mixed with her ordinary magic, her immortal magic, the mantle of the moon, and the small remains of the mantle of the sun.  Almost, it seemed as though it was consciously fleeing from her grasp, as if it knew and feared that purpose she had in mind.

Still, it existed within her and Luna was master of herself.  Her eyes narrowed and she grasped the Dreaming tightly.  Distantly she heard a pained gasp from Nightmare Moon, but she was already portioning off a small piece of her control and using it to surround the bubble of Barrel’s dream.

It was easy.  Dreaming and dream were so similar that coating one with a connection to the other was an easy task.  The second the coating was complete Barrel’s dream merged immediately with the Dreaming.

Beside Luna the grey and grizzled pegasus stood.  He looked around, confused, but his expression calmed upon seeing her.

“Princess?” Barrel asked.

“Tell me, Barrel,” Luna said gently, “what’s the last thing you remember?”

“I was just putting away the last of the day’s supplies when the order came to form up.  No exceptions.” He scratched his chin.  “Come to think of it, that was pretty strange.  Then Captain Armor had us walk through that portal you were holding open.  I’d have probably told him to go stuff himself if it had just been him, but I figured if you were making that portal then there must have been a good reason.”

Humbled, Luna nodded.  “Thank you for your trust.  We were about to be ambushed and putting you to sleep was the only way I could think of to keep you all alive.”

“I knew there had to be a good reason,” he said, sounding satisfied.  “But why’s it only me and your secretary here, princess?  And where are we anyway?”

“You are actually partly still asleep.  This is a place known as the Dreaming.  Thanks to Sunlit Rooms, I have found a way to strike at Sombra from here.  I intend to summon as many soldiers as this place can bear for the effort.  I won’t pretend that this is safe, or a conventional attack, and I won’t order you to do this.”  Luna held out a hoof.  “So, will you fight at my side?”

“I will serve, princess,” Barrel said, saluting proudly.  With a look of wonder, he took her hoof and shook it as she smiled at his response.

Nightmare watched with a strange expression on her face.  “So it seems this is the cause for which I am to die.  I’d thought you’d kill me, not that you’d break me into pieces and feed me to others.  I suppose that is the point of dominion; that you can do with me as you wish.  But are you sure this is the dominion you desire?”

“Yes,” Luna answered firmly.  “As I said this is the type of control I choose.  This feels right in a way that ruling never did, for all that I thought I wanted it.  You were an ideal I never should have had and the Dreaming made a mistake in sending its plea to me in the form of you.”  Luna rested a wing on each of Barrel and Sunlit Rooms’ shoulders.  He looked simultaneously proud and unsettled by the closeness, while Sunlit Rooms just looked content.  “I choose to give what I am and what I should be to my little ponies.  Now come, we have many more to awaken before we are ready for the final battle with Sombra.”
> Arc 3 Chapter 10: The Light of Stars and Moon
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sombra had told the truth, he was not far away.  A silent procession followed the crusaders through the rock and crystal corridors until they reached a long straight hallway which ended in a wide wooden door.

On either side of the corridor, waiting in eerie stillness, was an honor guard of sorts.  A clawful of dragons, some few heavily armored griffons, and a small herd of ponies.  They lined the corridor and loomed over Twilight and her friends on their approach.

Guards notwithstanding, Twilight was cheered.  If this was all Sombra could summon to intimidate them, then they might have a chance.  She was fairly certain she could have defeated them all alone, and with the help of the others the odds were definitely in their favor, disregarding Sombra himself, of course.

That optimism died a quick death as the wooden door swung open before them.  On the other side was the welcoming committee they would have longed to see had they returned to Ponyville in victory.

Granny Smith and Big Macintosh, Mr. and Mrs. Cake, Rarity’s parents, and perhaps most painfully, Fluttershy’s parents and older brother had all been brought north by Sombra.  Even Grist, Gilda’s old commander was there to greet them.  As if the CMC were not enough, this was another stark reminder that to fight Sombra was to fight everypony they cared for.

Though she could not make out his body from the entryway, Twilight heard Sombra speak.  His voice was not the powerful baritone Twilight had grown accustomed to hearing through his thralls, rather it was rough, gravelly, and pained.  By that imperfection she knew it to be his own voice, coming from his own body.

“Welcome to my prison,” he said.

As they entered the room and the door swung shut behind them, Twilight could see that Sombra’s prison was different from how Luna had described it.  The chamber was wider than she’d imagined, and the back set so deeply into the shadows she could scarce make it out.  Most pertinently, instead of a statue King Sombra was present in the flesh. He was clad in his dark armor and a heavy red velvet cape with white fur trim ran along his back.  He cut quite the imposing figure and would certainly have looked at home lounging on an ornate golden throne.  He did not sit upon a throne, though.

Instead he hung like a sacrifice at the center of the cavern.  Spears of light Twilight instinctively recognized as the product of the mantle of the sun were driven clean through each of Sombra’s limbs, hoisting him spread eagle into the air while leaving his head slumped.  A fifth spear was stabbed deep into his side and blood so black it might well have been Sombra’s shadow magic dripped from the unhealing wound.

Enemy though he was, Sombra’s plight was still terrible to behold and the ponies recoiled at the sight.  With a pained groan at the effort, Sombra raised his head and regarded the beings that he had ordered brought to him.

“You may go to your loved ones,” he said.  “They are in my thrall, of course, but satisfy yourselves that they are unharmed.” The ponies hesitated for a moment, believing that there must be some kind of catch.  When no further words were forthcoming they rushed forward en masse.  The room filled with babbling voices asking after their families’ wellbeing.

Shining Armor, though did not rush forward.  He had no cause to.  Instead he sat at the door with an expression of purest relief on his face.  A Twilight’s glance he spoke.  “She is not here.  My wife, I mean.  I never thought I’d be happy not to see her, but I am glad she’s not in this place.”

“Understandable, Shining.  I hope she’s well back in Canterlot.”

“She is,” Sombra cut in, a trace of his voice’s former power letting it carry across the distance and the noise.  “Your foal was born a few days ago, a healthy baby girl.  I had no wish to kill them prematurely with a journey they could not handle.  And I think I have enough hostages to make my point.”

Shining Armor’s mouth twisted, as if he wanted to say thank you but couldn’t bear to thank his enemy.  Twilight placed a comforting hoof on his shoulder and then made her way through the cavern to stand before Sombra.  Holding him in the air as it did, his prison placed him above her.

Looking up at him felt wrong, somehow, so Twilight let her memories of being a pegasus guide her and lifted herself up to eye level.  Sombra’s amused expression revealed that he knew exactly why she’d done that, but not allowing him to look down on her was worth it regardless.

“Well well, Twilight Sparkle.  You’ve certainly come up in the world,” he remarked

“It’s just Twilight now,” she said shortly.  “You brought us here for a reason.  What is it?”

“Perhaps I just wanted to see more of those dear ponies I’ve grown so fond of.”  He cast his eyes around the room and settled on Pinkie.  She’d run to the Cakes, but on reaching them had found herself unable to speak.  When she felt his gaze turn toward her she flinched and shrank back from it.  “Like Pinkie, for instance.  I had such fun with you, my dear, and I look forward to having you once again.”

“No!  No no no no no.”  Pinkie’s hooves blurred as she backpedaled away from Sombra.  She tripped, tumbling onto her rear but still trying to crawl away.  Her breathing hissed jerkily through her teeth as they chattered.  She scrambled to keep moving, begging, “no, please, no!”

With a sudden yelp, blood started to dribble form her mouth and her body twitched and shook.

“Pinkie!” Twilight cried and sped towards her friend.  Shining Armor beat her to Pinkie’s side.

“She’s having a seizure,” he said worriedly, “and she bit through her tongue.  If we don’t calm her down, she’ll tear herself to pieces.”

The magic came easily to Twilight because there was nothing she wanted more at that moment than to help Pinkie.  It was a gentle spell designed to take her away from all of this.  “Sleep,” Twilight murmured as soothing waves of lavender scented and colored magic washed over the seizing pony.  For a moment Pinkie resisted out of panic.  Then the ebb and flow broke through her haze and carried her consciousness through the door of sleep.  With an expression of sweet relief, she drifted away from the pain of facing her tormentor.

Twilight’s heart eased as Pinkie’s face relaxed from its grimace.  Shining Armor turned Pinkie to let the accumulated blood drain from her mouth.  It left a scarlet trail from the corner of her mouth down to her chin before dripping into a small pool on the cold floor.  “So she won’t choke on it,” he explained to Twilight.  “I’ll watch over her.”

“Thank you,” she said.  Then Twilight spun around and glared at Sombra.  With a gust of wind her wings brought her face to face with him once more.  “Was that fun for you?” she spat.  “Do you enjoy bringing ponies to tears with the memory of what you’ve done to them?”

“No,” Sombra said softly.  “But it doesn’t bother me either.  I know of those emotions that others feel.  Care.  Love.  Empathy.  And I have seen too many memories of their efficacy to ever doubt their strength.  But I seem to lack them, and so what else could I ever have done?”

“You could’ve not been a torturer and slaver.  How about that?” Twilight’s anger came through clearly as she shouted.  “You could’ve chosen not to be a monster.”

“I am a monster,” he agreed easily.  “And I am reminded of it every moment of every day.  Ten thousand mothers curse my name as they tuck their foals in, and ten thousand fathers rage against me as they perform the work I set to them, and ten thousand foals curse me in their thoughts as they play with the ponies who were once just their friends.”

“I am Equestria, Twilight, and Equestria hates me with a passion they’ve never felt in their ordinary lives.  They perform the functions of life, but their thoughts turn ever to me.  Can you imagine what that is like, Twilight?  To have an entire nation spend it’s every waking moment hating you?  Sombra shivered in his chains.  “I never held so many the last time, and I confess myself unpleasantly surprised at some of the ways in which the experience scales.”

Twilight hesitated.  She spared a moment’s thought for what it would be like if every one of those lives within her memories hated her with a passion.  She couldn’t have borne it, she realized.  They had nearly subsumed her in their indifference.  Outright hatred would have destroyed her.

“You chose this,” she said again to Sombra, but her voice was not nearly as certain as it had been.

“I did,” he acknowledged.  “And yet, somewhere deep inside of me, there is a lonely magic-loving colt screaming at what I have become.”  His eyes bored into her, and she could have sworn she saw the faintest glimmer of regret buried somewhere deep inside.  “Tell me, Twilight, if you could talk to that colt, if you had the chance to coax him out of the dark, what would you say?”

“I’d tell him… I’d say…” Twilight trailed off, looking unsure.  Then a fierce joyless grin crossed her face and she leaned in close.

“I’d tell him that’s a load of horse shit,” she spat in Sombra’s face.  “I remember your misspent youth.  I saw you delve deeper and deeper into the magic of the mind, searching for some way to imprint yourself over another pony.  I saw you choose to test your spells on parents who had done nothing but love and encourage you.”

Sombra threw back his head and laughed with honest mirth.  The roughness disappeared from his voice, yet another aspect of his deception.  “Ah, Twilight, you are wonderful!  I truly wish we could have met in some other time.  You might have been able to teach me the magic of friendship.”

For just a moment, Twilight tried to imagine how that might have gone.  Perhaps she could have rescued this brilliant but utterly immoral unicorn if she’d met him before he’d gone too far down this path.  Or, more terrifyingly, perhaps he would have brought her down with him.  He alone threatened all of Equestria.  The two of them against the world would have barely been a challenge.

Sombra seemed to read the direction of her thoughts for he sobered quickly.  “In all seriousness, Twilight.  No tricks, no deceptions.  Will you join me?  You apparently know the spell I use for possession, or at least the initial form of it.  Use it on your friends and they will be safe from me.  I’ll give you a fair share of the population of Equestria, and I’ll even key you in to my control of Hvergelmir.  What do you say?”

Twilight could see the hope in his eyes.  Perhaps he had not entirely been lying about the loneliness of his younger days, or perhaps he was simply that skilled at dissembling.  She rather suspected the latter.  Regardless, she shook her head.  “I know better than to use that spell, and there is no circumstance in which I would join you.

“I see.”  The almost conversational tone he’d used before was gone and he was every inch the conquering king once more.  “In that case, tell me how you know of my youth and every detail of your ascension.

“I won’t,” Twilight was defiant, vindictive in her refusal.  “Does it burn you up not to know?  Does my ascending when you could not grate on you?  I hope so.  I hope the pain of never knowing teaches you to understand the smallest sliver of what you’ve inflicted on others.”

“Very well.  I hope you come to change your mind.  These are things I would dearly like to know.” Sombra said calmly.

“Very well?” Twilight asked, unnerved by his calmness.  “That’s it?  No threats against my friends and loved ones?”

“Let me lay out the situation.  You may not leave.”  At Sombra’s nod, Twilight turned around in time to see the door swing shut and hear the distinctive thunk of wooden bolts falling into place.  “If you or any of the other ponies here attempt to leave, I will begin killing the ponies in my possession that are dear to you, both those here and those elsewhere.  You have knowledge I desire and you may use it to bargain if you wish.”

“You won’t harm those of us that are still free from you?” Twilight asked cautiously.

Sombra shrugged.  “I have learned about you, Twilight, through Pinkie and through the memories of others that have known you.  You have a particular propensity for coming through at the last instant before some dramatic event occurs.  So I will not give you that instant.  These ponies will stay here and slowly starve to death, or, if you tell me how to ascend, they can be set free.”

Twilight realized with dawning horror what Sombra was proposing.  There was no food or water in the cavern and it would not take long before the effects would set in.  Could she remain resolute in the face of her friends’ starvation?  If she struck against Sombra he would hurt their loved ones here in the cavern, or, if that failed he had the entire population of Equestria to choose victims from.  Twilight alone could not protect everypony.

Fortunately, she had a relatively harmless piece of knowledge she could trade to him.  Not enough to win anypony their freedom, but perhaps enough to gain some protection.

“I’ll explain a key piece of information about ascension to you,” Twilight offered.  “But in exchange I want you to leave my friends alone.  No taunting.  No offered deals.  As far as you’re concerned it’s just the two of us in this cavern.  Especially for Pinkie Pie, you’ve hurt her enough.  None of your thralls are even to touch her, no matter what else happens.”

He considered for a moment, clearly checking for hidden meanings, then nodded.  “Very well.  But if they come to me requesting a deal for their life, then I am permitted to bargain with them.”

“Acceptable,” Twilight said.

“The deal is struck.  I would shake your hoof but,” Sombra indicated the spears that still impaled him, “I cannot.  Now, what is this information?

“You cannot ascend,” she said.  “Given what you have done and what I know of the process required you would have already ascended if you were capable of it.  I suspect it is your inability to care for others that renders ascension permanently out of reach.”

Sombra nodded.  “I must admit I had expected as much.  In that case, there is little value in the information you still have to offer me.  Your knowledge of my past is a curiosity, but nothing more.  So here is my standing offer.  If you surrender yourself to my control, I will let your friends go without enslaving them.”

Twilight cursed herself even as she hesitated.  “My life for theirs?” she asked.

“Their lives, or anything else you might wish in exchange, within reason of course,” Sombra said magnanimously.

Still hesitating, Twilight asked the question that had been bothering her for the past few minutes.  “Why all this supposed generosity?  You have brought us to the seat of your power under heavy guard.  Why bother making deals now?

“Because I’ve won,” Sombra said simply.  “This is not, as you are imagining, the prelude to some final confrontation.  My victory is not imminent, it is complete.  Equestria is mine down to the last foal, save for your party here.  Your ascension disrupted my control of Hvergelmir, but even now it reasserts itself and I doubt you can ascend again.  If you kill this body, all that happens is that I am spared the pain of my prison.  To completely wipe me out you would have to complete a genocide of the pony race, and I don’t think you could do that even if I stood still and allowed you to try.”

Sombra did not view her as a threat, Twilight realized.  She was just an opportunity for him to indulge his curiosity.  On a whim, she sent a pulse of magic toward Sombra strong enough to disintegrate flesh and bone.  It dissipated so fast that, even with her new immortal sight from the eye that held the mantle of the sun, she could barely see the dark shadow that swallowed her spell.

Sombra shot her a quizzical look.

“I wanted to verify your strength for myself,” Twilight explained.  “How stupid would it be to surrender only to find out that you were barely holding yourself together?”

“Understandable.  However, there are always consequences.  Look,” he said, and nodded toward the Cakes.  “This is the cost of your test.”

Mr. Cake drew himself up, standing rigidly straight.  His head painfully jerked to the side exposing his throat.  Twilight’s vision was so fine she could see the faint beating of his carotid artery.

“Don’t,” she requested, trying to keep the pleading note from her tone.  “I take your point.  No more tests.”

Sombra shook his head.  “You must learn this lesson.”

Mr. Cake stumbled forward and threw himself neck first onto his wife’s horn.

Or he would have, had his wife been a unicorn.  She was, instead, an earth pony, so he simply flopped awkwardly onto her face and then stumbled to the floor.

Everyone stared at where he slumped, and then turned to stare at Sombra in abject confusion.  Sombra for his part, shrugged, and then winced as that jostled the places where the light speared into him.

“Would you believe I actually forgot not everypony has a horn?  Ah, well.  Let’s say that fortune smiled upon you this time.”  He fixed Twilight with a dangerous glare.  “No more tests, though.  I know how dangerous you can be if I let you poke and prod at me.  I hope that alone was sufficient to convince you that your position is hopeless, and that you are ready to accept my offer.”

“No more tests.  I will–” Twilight hesitated, looking disgusted by the words that left her mouth.  “I will think about your offer.”

“By all means, consider at your leisure.  Your friends keep the timer, not I.”

The weight upon Twilight’s shoulders carried her down to where her friends had gathered.  And when they looked to her for answers she didn’t know what to tell them.


***


Luna had brought the dreams of just over one hundred of her soldiers into the Dreaming.  It had been a challenge, though she’d found it easier to bring in those ponies that had given voice to the Lunar Anthem with her.  Unsurprisingly, there was a kind of resonance to their dreams that made them easier to find and to hold.

As more ponies had come forth, Nightmare Moon had faded further.  She rested on the floor now, lacking even the strength to stand.  Her midnight blue coat had turned to the slate grey of a stormy sea.  Luna shot her glances now and again, in between reaching out for new ponies.  Nightmare Moon, for her part, did not complain at her impending death, though now and again she loosed a complaint at having gained a body just in time to suffer from its loss.

Every time Luna awakened a pony she guided them to the other awoken ponies and set them to the task of orienting the new arrival and teaching him or her how to cut Sombra’s threads as Luna needed them to.  Luna had worried that cutting the same thread over and over for practice would alert Sombra to their attack, so she’d lit up several with her magic to give the ponies places to practice.  She could only hope that the momentary flickering of a few threads out of hundreds of thousands of connections would go unnoticed, at least for a short while.

Faint snatches of the Lunar Anthem drifted over to her from where the soldiers stood.  It seemed that they’d all found the music useful in achieving the necessary degree of focus to will the threads to break.

“You’ll be fine,” Luna said gently to the recently summoned grey mare.  “They’ll tell you what you need to know.”

“Thank you, princess,” she said in her clipped precise accent before being welcomed into the herd.

Luna turned away to repeat the now familiar process when she was interrupted by the appearance of a pony she had not summoned.

Sitting on the floor shivering, wrapped in a blanket, and clutching tight to a mug of hot chocolate was Pinkie Pie.  Luna rushed to her side.

“Are you okay, Pinkie?  What are you doing back here?  Where are the others?”  The words spilled from Luna in a torrent to hide her from the question she both wanted and feared to ask.

Pinkie took a sip of the chocolate.  She breathed in and out, fighting the tears that trembled in her eyes.  “He’s not here,” she muttered to herself.  “He’s not here.”

“Shh,” Luna comforted, draping one wing over the trembling pony.  “It’s ok.  He’s not here.  Take your time.”  Luna could feel the Dreaming flowing back into Pinkie and calming her down, returning to her the control she’d had when Luna had last seen her.

As she waited for the process to complete, Luna was forcibly reminded of the last time she’d had to ask a fragile Pinkie Pie for answers and for help.  What was it about this poor pony that made her so central to the fight against Sombra, despite, or perhaps because of, her torment at his hooves?

At last, Pinkie gained control over her breathing.  She relaxed her death grip on the chocolate and looked up at Luna.  “Princess?  Oh, I’m dreaming aren’t I?”

“Yes Pinkie, you are one of the few ponies who come to this world in all their dreams, as we discovered last time you were here.”  Luna’s eyes saddened and Pinkie flinched back, knowing what was coming.  “I’m sorry to ask this of you Pinkie, but once again there are painful answers I must have from you.”

“I can be brave,” Pinkie said.  She took a deep breath and repeated it to herself.  “Here, at least, I can be brave.  What do you need to know?”

Slowly, Luna managed to tease out the situation from the pony next to her.  She learned that everypony she’d let out of the Dreaming was gathered in Sombra’s chamber with an ascended Twilight.

When she had a grasp of the situation, Luna hesitated.  There was an alicorn who, by the light Pinkie had seen in her eye, clearly possessed the mantle of the sun.  And Pinkie had made no mention of a white alicorn.  But Luna had to know for sure, no matter how it pained her.

“Pinkie, did you see Celestia?  Did you see a white alicorn, larger than a pony, like me, with a pastel-rainbow mane?”  Luna looked away, not wanted to see the lack of dawning comprehension on Pinkie’s face.

Sure enough, the answer was the one Luna had been dreading ever since she’d felt the mantle of the sun leave her, and even more since Sunlit Rooms had told her who she once had been.  “No,” Pinkie said.  “The only alicorn I saw was Twilight.  Which is weird because she’s my friend, but she’s like a princess now too and I don’t know what that means.”  Pinkie broke off, seeing the tears Luna had tried to hide.  It was her turn now to offer comfort and she reached out to place a hoof on Luna’s side.

“Don’t give up until you talk to Twilight,” Pinkie said.  “She’s a smartypants and if anypony can help Celestia, it’s her, especially now that she’s an alicorn.”

Luna nodded, gathering herself.  “You’re right Pinkie, I’ll worry about that when Sombra is finished.  Now, I need you to carry a message, one that may be crucial to beating Sombra.”

Pinkie’s ears went flat against her head and she flinched back.  “I can’t.  I can’t wake up again.  I can be strong here, but when I go back out there I’m all alone against everything he did to me.”

“I need you to, Pinkie,” Luna pushed.  “If I can’t send a message to Twilight she won’t be ready when I attack and we might lose because of that.  I know I’m asking more of you than you should have had to give, again.  I know he’s made you suffer more than anypony else.  But you are the only pony that can do this.”

Pinkie met Luna’s gaze with a pitiable expression.  “Please don’t make me wake up,” she begged with watery eyes.

“I need you to,” Luna said firmly, though to do so hurt her soul.  “It doesn’t have to be for long.  You can come back here the second you deliver the message.  A couple of minutes, maximum.”

“And this will help beat Sombra?” Pinkie asked.

Luna nodded.  “It will.  I don’t think we can beat him without it.”

Pinkie was quiet.  She looked around the cavern where the troops Luna had woken were talking quietly, or practicing applying their will against Sombra.  Luna couldn’t have said what thoughts went through Pinkie’s mind, but when she turned back there was a glimmer of defiance in those once-blue eyes.

“Ok,” Pinkie said.  “On one condition.”

“Thank you, Pinkie,” Luna said in relief.  “I’m sure the answer is yes, no matter what your condition is.”

“I want to fight.”  Pinkie gestured at the troops.  “When I get back I want to fight with them.  Beating a small part of him wasn’t enough.  I want to face him here where I’m strong.”

“Of course,” Luna said warmly and without hesitation.  “I only discovered the way to let them fight because of what you did.  I would be proud to have you fight at my side.”

Pinkie blinked, as though she’d expected to be refused.  Then her ears perked up and a very small smile found its way onto her face.  “Good.  Now, what’s the message?  The sooner I wake up the sooner I can come back to sleep.”

“It’s a message for Twilight.  Or if you see another alicorn—no, it’s a message for Twilight.  Tell her that I’m going to give her a shot.  I’m going to cut Sombra’s connection to all the other ponies.  She’ll know it once it starts.  It’s temporary and even if she kills that body the rest of them will still have his mind so that won’t be the end of it.”  Luna sighed and looked away.  “I don’t know if she can somehow take that chance and end him or how that might work, but I trust her.  I’m trusting her to find some way to make this opportunity count.”  Luna looked back at Pinkie and smiled sheepishly.  “Sorry, that’s a bit of a long and rambling message.  The important thing is that she needs to be ready to attack Sombra when we separate him from the others.  Do you have all that?”

Pinkie nodded her head.  “I got it.  I tell Twilight that I’mgoingtogiveherashotI’mgoingtocutSombra’sconnectiontoalltheotherponiesshe’llknowitonceitstartsIt’stemporaryandevenifshekillsthatbodytherestofthemwillstillhavehismindsothatwon’tbetheendofit.  SIGH. Idon’tknowifshecansomehowtakethatchanceandendhimorhowthatmightworkbutItrustherI’mtrustinghertofindsomewaytomakethisopportunitycountsorrythat’sabitofalongandramblingmessagetheimportantthingisthatsheneedstobereadytoattackSombrawhenweseparatehimfromtheothers.”  Pinkie finished the message in a single breath and then gave a satisfied nod.  “Heh, still got it.”

Luna stared at the little pony who had suffered so much and still could find a way to joke around in the face of the end of the world.  Then she burst out laughing.  “Oh, Pinkie, thank you.  I needed that.”

With that same small smile, Pinkie nodded.  “I think maybe I did too.  I’ll give Twilight the message.  I think she’s the bestest pony to put your trust in.”

“I do too, Pinkie.  I do too.”

“Good.”  Pinkie looked around in confusion.  “Now, how do I get back to Twilight?  Do you have to make another one of those weird swirly portals?”

“Not this time, Pinkie.  This time you just have to wake up.”  With the last two words, Luna reached for what remained of her control over the Dreaming and pushed Pinkie back out of it.  Like a soap bubble popping Pinkie disappeared and Luna knew she had arrived back in the land of the waking.

“So that’s what this is about then, eh?”  Luna turned to see Sunlit Rooms, Barrel, and the rest of the soldiers watching her closely.

“That’s what this is about,” Luna confirmed.  “We can give Twilight a shot from here.  Beyond that I’m out of ideas.  It will likely be dangerous and I don’t know what type of backlash we may face.  If anypony wants to back out there is no shame in that and I can send you back to ordinary dreams.  You won’t even be hurting our chances since I can wake up other members of the army and make the same offer to them.”

The soldiers looked at each another and one raised a hoof and spoke up.  “I’m sorry, but I’d like to be sent back to sleep.  I signed on as a guard to fight and protect, not to struggle in this strange dreamworld.”

“That’s fine,” Luna said.  “Come forward.”  The blue pegasus who had raised his hoof came forward and stood before her.  It was easy enough to retract what she had granted, possibly more so because he had been a recent awakening.

As the control over the Dreaming flowed back to Luna, the pegasus disappeared just like Pinkie Pie had.  Though unlike her, Luna could feel his dream reform on the fringes of the Dreaming.

When they saw that the first pony had come to no harm, a few others spoke up and were quickly sent back to their own dreams to await good or bad news.  With the power she’d had returned to her Luna awoke a few more soldiers and made them the same offer.  It took a few more iterations, but in the end she had an army of 106 soldiers, and Sunlit Rooms, ready to apply their collective will to the Dreaming.

This left Luna with just enough power over the Dreaming that Nightmare still lived and Luna herself could still bend her surroundings to her will about as much as she had been able to before.  It would be enough.  It would have to be enough.

Speaking of Pinkie Pie, with a pop, the pony reappeared in the Dreaming’s version of the cavern.  Thanks to the Dreaming’s disconnect with the time of the real world, she’d appeared at precisely the right moment.

“Pinkie, how did it go?” Luna asked.

Pinkie shivered and didn’t answer for a moment.  She seemed to gather herself in, and Luna saw a ghostly set of armor, made out of balloons, briefly cover Pinkie’s white fur.  It faded away as Pinkie felt herself sufficiently fortified by the Dreaming.  Only then did she look up and notice Luna looking at her.

“I gave Twilight your message,” Pinkie said.

“And did she respond?” Luna asked eagerly.

“She said that she’d attack at the first sign you were successful.  But she also said she wasn’t sure what she could do.”

Luna’s face fell.  “She doesn’t know how to beat him?  Does she think we should hold off?”

Pinkie shook her head.  “She said it was a good idea, and that she’d come up with something.  But Sombra’s threatening to starve our friends so we can’t afford to wait.”

“Alright.  This is it then.  Once you’re recovered we’ll begin.”

Pinkie spared a last look around the room.  She opened her mouth for a moment.  Not the painfully wide yawn of Sombra’s possession, just a little gap.  She gave a little huff, and then another.

“I thought maybe I could laugh again here,” she said sadly.  “For good luck, or defiance, or something.  But I can’t.  And it’s his fault.  So I’m ready for the end, one way or another.”

Luna’s heart broke for her.  She was such a small soft figure, and in that cavern surrounded by darkness she looked all the smaller.  But her white coat and golden mane shed their own light against the dark.  And she was standing.  It seemed important to Luna that Pinkie Pie was still standing.  It gave her the strength she needed to begin.

“Soldiers, attend me!” Luna called, and her voice easily cut through the quiet chatter.  Within seconds all of the troops stood at attention before her and the room was dead silent.  Luna had given no thought to unit cohesion when she’d gathered her troops, preferring instead to follow her instincts in selecting her ponies.  Surveying their ranks now, Luna was pleased with what she saw.  They stood shoulder to shoulder with the ease and confidence of consummate professionals.  More, they were comfortable in the Dreaming, willing to accept that they had been called to fight in a world beyond their ken, so long as the princess was doing the calling.

Luna began to walk the line up and down, looking each soldier in the eye as she passed.  “The coming battle will be fought not with strength of arms, but with the strength of your will.  But make no mistake.  This is a battle as fierce as any you have ever waged.  Injury is a possibility.  Death is a possibility.  The total rending of your mind and soul is a possibility.  Will you cower?”

“No!” came the thunderous response, and Luna saw pride and certainty in their eyes.  They were soldiers, and they had signed on knowing they would face pain and death.

“In a normal battle the loss of any one pony, while tragic, does not change the outcome of the battle.  Here we must maintain a perfect block for as long as possible.  Every one of you that falls will leave the full weight of your burden on ponies already struggling under their own burden of equal weight.  A single loss could produce a cascading failure and doom us all.  Will you falter?”

“No!”  The air had a darkened in the cavern, not Sombra’s darkness, but the familiar deep velvet blue of Luna’s night.

“We can achieve no final victory.  All our effort, all of our struggles go to providing another pony with a single shot.  Our task is simply to create the opening and hold it for as long as equinely possible.  We may well make no mistakes and still lose the day.  We may die, all of us even me, for a chance that never existed.  Will you despair?”

“No!”  The cavern should have been pitch black, but as the final defiant call rang out a light began to shine on the brow of every proud standing solider.

The light of Luna’s stars had found its home in the ponies that believed in her.

Save for two. No light shone from the brow of Sunlit Rooms or Pinkie Pie.  No, those white-furred ponies blazed with their own light, comets to the stars around them.  They bore the standard of the Dreaming in their own flesh, and all who looked to them took heart.

“Take your positions,” Luna commanded.  Moving with military precision the 106 soldiers formed a ring around the stain Sombra’s imprisoned form left on the Dreaming.  Luna herself followed suit, taking position at the head of the circle, face-to-face with where Sombra hung in the real world.

Pinkie took the position one quarter of the circle to her left, and Sunlit Rooms the same on her right.  Across the circle stood Quartermaster Barrel with Polaris, the North Star itself, upon his brow.  Together these four bright lights formed the foundation upon which their defiance would be built.  Luna’s gaze swept counterclockwise across the circle, meeting each proud face in turn, but lingering longest on those beloved friends whose light would lead the way.

“Now we begin.”

At Luna’s words a great hum sprang up.  The Anthem of the New Lunar Republic resonated in that cavern, growing louder and stronger than even 109 throats should have been able to make it.  Luna could swear that as she sang she heard the music of the instruments that she had had at her beck and call so long ago in that park.

As the old Equestrian chanting began, so too did the battle.

As one, in time with the music they were still singing, the stars bent their will against the dark.  They were strong, stronger than Luna had dared hope.  Spreading her power so widely among ponies so closely in sync had magnified it.  Each star took on far more darkness than they should have had to bear, cutting through ten threads, a hundred threads each in an instant.

Luna herself was awestruck at her own power.  Riding the wave of their strength, buoyed up by their song, she struck such a blow against the dark that she could feel Sombra reeling away in another realm.

Sombra, though, was not so easily undone.  Each star cut a hundred threads, yes, but here in the heart of Sombra’s power there were a nations-worth of threads to cut.  Threads so tightly wound that the seams could not be seen and even a hundred thousand cut threads were barely visible compared to his all-consuming shadow.

A princess and 108 ponies against a nation.  How could they have prevailed?

Sombra rallied and struck back. Only his ignorance of the Dreaming as the vector of their attack prevented his counterstrike from being catastrophic.  Luna saw more than one pony sink to their knees before the sheer weight of his radiating malice.  Suffocating darkness billowed out and snapped at the defenders.  They shrank back before it.

Say this for them, they did not cower.  They did not falter.  They did not despair.  Though it grew fainter, the Anthem of the New Lunar Republic did not waiver, nor did the circle of stars break.  But Luna knew it could not last.  This was not a fight they could win.  Given the level of strength Luna could now see on each side, this was not a battle that they ever could have won.

“Luna,” croaked Nightmare Moon.  The other pony had faded so that she was barely more than a wisp.  She lay on her side just outside the circle, her head barely raised so she could see the ongoing fight.  Luna didn’t know what the Nightmare wanted, but she had not the time or energy for consideration of it.

What could she do?  Was there some power Luna had left untapped she could now throw against Sombra?  Luna flared her magic and her will and for a moment the dark was pushed back.  The soldiers rallied to her and the crushing pressure of Sombra’s will lessened.  In exchange, though, the full weight of Sombra’s regard rested on her, and it was more than she could handle.

Luna sank to her knees as her light dimmed.  She had bought scant seconds for her soldiers to regain their hooves, but at what cost?  What else did she have left?  She’d gifted her power over the Dreaming to her soldiers, and their numbers proved a force magnifier, but not enough of one.  She’d flared her magic and it had barely done anything.  All that was left was her physical strength, and even that was fading fast in the face of the crushing pressure of Sombra’s control.

“Luna” coughed Nightmare again.  Except it wasn’t exactly Luna’s name.  It was another word.  Lunar.  Nightmare Moon was saying lunar.  And all at once Luna understood.

She’d thought that giving up her control over the Dreaming was a sufficient gift, but that had been arrogance.  The path she had chosen was to lead by giving all, and there was so much more to give.  There was her remaining strength in the Dreaming, embodied in her own preternatural control and the continued existence of Nightmare.  Important as that was, though, it wasn’t what Nightmare meant.

Luna still possessed the mantle of the moon.  She’d thought it separate from her control of the Dreaming.  One of the two pieces of immortal magic that made up Princess Luna.  She should have known better.  At the very least she should have known by the time she’d seen the stars shining on the brows of her soldiers.  If giving them the Dreaming lent them stars, then to truly give all Luna had to relinquish the moon as well.

Could she do that?  The moon had been a part of Luna for as long as she could remember.  It had been taken from her by her sister in her banishment, but that was a far cry from voluntarily releasing it knowing she would never hold it again.

Barrel cried out in pain as Sombra’s dark taint pushed back his will so far that it began to eat into his flesh, jerking Luna from her reverie.  She scanned the circle, noting that though pain had clouded every face, none had yielded.  Not yet.

How could Luna not answer their awe-inspiring will in kind?

Over the heads of the circle, Luna met Nightmare Moon’s eyes.  They could not speak, but in that brief contact Luna tried to convey her gratitude for the hint, her sorrow that this was the end Nightmare should reach, and her unmitigated hatred of the past that Nightmare’s form reminded her of.  Nightmare, for her part, acknowledged Luna’s complicated expression with a small smirk.  Moments later, that smirk and the rest of Nightmare Moon’s body faded from the Dreaming, never to return.

Luna could not spare a thought for the vanished pony now that her purpose was served.  Instead, she took charge of the anthem once again.  She was not repeating it now.  That was not what was needed.  Luna changed it.  Altered it to be a receptacle for the power she needed to express.  A new tone, and new words, but the same themes running throughout to keep the connection to her stars.

The soldiers noticed the changes, and they felt their futile struggle against Sombra grow easier.  Glances snapped toward Luna and away, conveying only their trust that she knew what she was doing.

And she did.  She finally, truly did.  As the anthem reached a crescendo, Luna reached deep into her own heart.  She wrapped her will tight around the mantle of the moon.  And then, in perhaps the hardest action she’d ever taken, Luna let go of her immortal mantle.

At once, the mantle flowed from her in ethereal wisps of light.  They drifted, dancing as so many ponies over the millennia had danced in the moonlight.  As the stars breathed, they took in those wisps and became something other.  They were changed by the moonlight, made creatures of night and silver flame.

Coats darkened and eyes shone brilliantly like the lights upon their brows.  Pegasi’s feathers fell from their wings and in their place ribbed leathery skin like that of a bat spread.  Unicorn horns elongated and became jagged and sharp.  Earth ponies became sturdier still, and claws graced the ends of their hooves.  And despite all the changes, not a one of them stopped singing.

Two ponies alone did not change with the others.  Pinkie, who had already paid her dues and changed form, smiled brilliantly as she felt the others become kin.  She laughed at last, and her true joy rippled through the Anthem and infused it with a trace of the most whimsical of the Elements of Harmony.  With her laugh a trace of color returned to her.  Pale glowing pink and green tinted her mane, and her eyes sharpened from washed out to piercing purple.

And then there was Sunlit Rooms, who had been an alicorn, and lost it; and been a friend and stayed true.  Her feathers faded like the other pegasi, yes, but nothing took their place save for the light itself.  Her wings of pure light flared out and spread to cover all in the warm glow of lazy Sunday afternoons, putting them all in mind of fresh summer pine and dappled forest traceries.

By their light did Luna know them, and she knew their true names.  And she named them Aurora and Daydream.

While her ponies grew and changed, Luna, for her part, buckled under the weight of Sombra’s darkness.  It had been hard enough to bear when she’d had all of her power.  Now, as an alicorn bereft of her mantle, she could scarcely hold her place in the circle.

Fortunately, she did not have to hold alone for long.

When the transformation reached Barrel on the opposite side of the circle, Luna felt the drain on her power cease.  At once, a vast image of the moon’s face expanded under the hooves of the circle.  It brought the refulgence of moonlight to the dark cavern, burning back the shadows.

Luna could feel the power of the mantle humming through her stars.  The way it was expressed in each pony resonated with all the other ponies, strengthening it far beyond anything Luna could have commanded alone.  Together, all the ponies who had knelt struggled back to their hooves and they all took one step forward and then another.  The circle tightened and the shadow was pushed back.

Sombra’s darkness rose like a wave and moonlight rose to answer it.  It was close.  Even after all Luna had given, after all the striving of the stars, Sombra still commanded a nation that did not want to be sundered.  But in the end, they were not attacking Sombra, the gestalt of a nation’s enslaved minds.  They were attacking Sombra, the individual.  And no one individual could stand against the moon and stars.

With a sudden flash, the weave of Sombra’s darkness was cut through entirely, and the frayed ends left waving in the cavern air.  Shimmering walls of moonlight rose around him cutting off the threads that already sought to reknit themselves.

It was done.

Sombra was cut off from his network of slaves.  He was left alone and, hopefully, vulnerable.  The anthem quieted, though it did not completely die out.  Soldiers checked their stance and settled themselves to hold for as long as they possibly could.  They had no way of knowing how long their endurance would last, or how long they would need to hold on for.

“We’ve done all we can,” Luna whispered to herself in the spaces between the notes of the anthem.  “Now, Twilight, it’s up to you to find a way to end this.  Faithful student and inheritor of my beloved sister’s will, I place my trust in you.”
> Arc 3 Chapter 11: The Gift
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight swam through a murky ocean of mixed up dreams.  She had a test the next morning that she hadn’t studied for.  No, the griffon delegation was coming soon and any mistake would lead to war.  No, her husband had left her for another mare and when she woke her bed would yawn with heartbreaking emptiness.  Through the muddle a voice drifted to her.

“Twilight?  Twilight, you gotta wake up.”

She wanted to, she truly did.  If only she could be sure what she would find there.  An ailing bonsai tree whose illness she couldn’t seem to cure?  A futile struggle against a dark king?  A lonely life waiting for foals who never wrote?  Why did she want to wake up, again?

“Twilight, I swear to Princess Luna I will somehow find a water balloon and hit you in the face with it if you don’t wake up right now!”

Well that was a good enough reason.  Twilight forced her hazy mind up through the layers of sleep toward wakefulness.  As she blearily opened her eyes she saw a white blur standing over her with a smaller blue blur connected to it.

Twilight blinked and Pinkie swam into focus just as she was winding up for a water balloon throw at point blank range.

“I’m awake, I’m awake,” Twilight said, hastily scrambling to get her hooves under her in time to dodge if need be.  She groaned as knots from sleeping in her dragon armor made themselves known.  It fit her so well she’d practically forgotten she was wearing it as she’d been moving around, but sleeping in it had been a painfully bad idea.

“Oh, good.”  Pinkie let the balloon fall to the side where it broke and splashed harmlessly against the floor.

Yawning, Twilight studied the other pony. She was relieved to see that Pinkie looked coherent at the very least, less like the panicked pony Twilight had put into an enchanted sleep a few hours earlier.  “How are you doing Pinkie? What’s going on?”

“Badly, I’m doing badly.”  Looking closer, Twilight could see that those same silver threads that had connected Pinkie to the Dreaming through the portal had reappeared and were again in the process of dissolving.  Pinkie had always been a twitchy pony, but her trembling now far surpassed what she’d ever displayed before.  Where it once had made her seem lively and energetic, it now came from a place of desperate need.

“I have a message for you,” Pinkie continued.  “Once I tell you, I want you to send me back to sleep and don’t wake me up until it’s all over.”  She looked away, out over their sleeping friends.  “It’s better there.  And don’t worry, I’ll still be helping.”

“Don’t worry about helping.” Twilight blurted out.  “If being asleep is better for you, then I’m happy to send you back to sleep.  I wouldn’t force anypony to face Sombra.”

A shadowed expression crossed Pinkie’s face.  “Oh I’ll be facing him.  I just won’t be this hurt when I do.  Anyway, the message.”

“Right, yes.”  Twilight stifled a yawn.  “Go ahead.”

Pinkie leaned in and whispered, “it’s from Princess Luna.”

“Luna?” Twilight whispered back, shocked fully awake by Pinkie’s words.  “How?  Where is she?”

“She’s in the Dreaming, silly.  Where else would she be?”

“How did you get to the Dreaming?” Twilight asked.

“Princess Luna said I’m something called a lucid dreamer.  Apparently I always go to the Dreaming when I sleep.”  Pinkie shrugged.  “I don’t really get it, but the important thing is that I saw Princess Luna and she wanted me to tell you something.”

Twilight nodded.  Her curiosity still pricked at her, but the specifics didn’t matter.  If Pinkie said she had been given a message by Luna in the Dreaming, Twilight trusted her.  “What is the message, Pinkie?”

Pinkie took in a deep breath and Twilight braced for one of Pinkie’s trademark mile-a-minute rants.  Instead, Pinkie let the breath go and focused in a way Twilight wasn’t used to seeing from the other pony.  “Princess Luna said that she’s going to cut off Sombra’s connection to the other ponies to give you a chance to finish him.  She also said that just killing his body won’t be enough, but that she trusts you to find a way to end it.”

“Sombra cut off from everypony else?  What would that mean?”  Pinkie opened her mouth to answer but Twilight held up a hoof and cut her off.  “Just thinking aloud, unless you have an idea?”

Pinkie shook her head.  “No, but Princess Luna did say she would start soon and that it should be pretty obvious once she did.  And that it probably wouldn’t last for too long.”

Twilight sighted.  “That’s good to know, thank you Pinkie.  I suppose given Sombra’s threats against our friends there’s no sense waiting.  I’ll come up with some way to take advantage of what Luna plans to do.  In the meantime, can you start waking up the others and tell them to be ready to fight.”

“No.  Twilight, I delivered my message.  Put me to sleep.  Please.”

Twilight took another look at Pinkie and saw what she’d missed.  Pinkie had her back to Sombra, and at no point while she was talking had she allowed the smallest part of him to enter her vision.  Her body was rigid and she was staring not at Twilight, but straight ahead at the walls.  She was blatantly doing everything she could to avoid even thinking about where she was.

“I’m sorry, Pinkie,” Twilight said.  “I knew it was hard for you to be here, but I didn’t realize each moment hurt quite that badly.”

“It does,” Pinkie said in a small voice.

“Alright, back to sleep you go.  Tell Luna I’ll be ready to do everything I can.”  Pinkie nodded.  Twilight’s magic came to her call, and it was welcomed easily into Pinkie.  The creases on the white pony’s forehead were smoothed away as her body relaxed into sleep.

Would that all pains were so easy to soothe.

Twilight took another look at her sleeping friends, deciding who to wake up to get everyone else moving.  They hadn’t bothered posting a guard.  It wasn’t as if Sombra would be deterred by a single one of them, and they all needed their rest.  Even the dragons had needed some time to sleep.  Twilight suspected it was an aftereffect of their time in the Dreaming, but she couldn’t have said for certain.

Of course, there was one creature who had neither been in the Dreaming, nor undergoing ascension.  Sure enough, as Twilight’s eyes swung past Spike, his eye opened and he caught her gaze.  The adolescent dragon stood quietly and made his way over to her.

“Waiting’s over?” he asked quietly.

“I think so,” Twilight said.  “We’re only going to get weaker if we wait any longer.  And if Luna’s able to do something from where she is, that can only help.”

“I’m glad,” he rumbled.  “Waiting feels like it takes forever.”

Twilight snorted, thinking of her own subjective millennia spent waiting for Celestia’s life to pass.  “You have no idea.  I’ll tell you about it if we’re still alive tomorrow.”

“I’d like that,” Spike said.  “I’ve missed you telling me stories.  Even boring ones about the brave little magical field and the sinister matrix tensor.”  She swatted his side and they both shared a quiet laugh.  Then he sighed.  “Alright, I’ll get them up.  You better come up with a good plan though.”

Spike set about his task as Twilight turned away, thinking hard about what Pinkie had said.  If Sombra was cut off from his network, he wouldn’t be able to draw on the ponies he’d enslaved at will, though he’d still have whatever power he’d already drawn into his original body.

It was a longshot, but Twilight thought she might be able to beat him in a straight magic duel at that point.  Even if she won though, that wouldn’t help after Luna faltered and all the copies of Sombra in everyponies’ heads reconnected with the main body.  Even if the original Sombra was completely wiped out, the network he’d created would continue without him.

What Twilight needed was something that she could do to his main body that would propagate through the network and destroy it.  The only spells she could think of that might work in that regard would simply destroy any mind with which they came into contact.  So that wasn’t an option unless she wanted to basically break the mind of everypony in Equestria.  She needed to fundamentally alter his original mind in a way that wouldn’t harm the ponies who weren’t evil kings.

It was a thorny problem, and Twilight had come no closer to a solution by the time everypony had been shaken awake and gathered around her.  Sombra had noticed the movement and both the main body and the thralls were watching them closely.

She might not have solved the problem of Sombra, but Twilight had planned out what she wanted each of her friends to do while she fought with him.  In an undertone, Twilight spoke to the gathered ponies, dragons, and one griffon.  “Luna and I are going to make a move on Sombra soon.  When I do, I’m going to need you all to hold back any ponies he sends at me.  Specifically, here’s what you all need to do.”

As Twilight explained their roles, there were nods all around.  The parts they had to play made sense, and they were all as ready to fight as they could be.  As Twilight came to the end of her instructions she hesitated.  She had a final order to give to all of them, and she knew they wouldn’t like it.

Moreover, it was an order she knew she couldn’t have given before, even when she was leading the army.  In a way she worried that her capacity to conceive of the order’s necessity was a sign of just how far she’d drifted from Twilight Sparkle, and of how much Celestia had influenced her.  Still, it had to be done.

With a heavy heart she said, “we only get one chance at this, if that.  So if it’s impossible to restrain somepony without injuring them, or you’re faced with a choice between one of the hostages and the fight as a whole, I am ordering you to do what has to be done.”

“I’m not hurting my family.  No way no how,” Applejack said immediately.

“Then you’d best hope that every creature here does their job.  If this fails, Equestria falls. I will not permit that to happen because we couldn’t sacrifice a single pony.”  Twilight’s steeled herself to the order she’d given even as she tried to force the others to do the same.  “Hate me if you want to.  Blame me.  I don’t care, as long as there is a future in which you have the chance to hate me.”

“Twilight, dear, I think you learned the wrong lesson from Fluttershy’s death,” Rarity said, her tone deceptively mild.

“This is not about Fluttershy!”  Twilight snapped.  “If I can’t trust you all not to flinch when it comes down to it, then I need to take the obvious alternative.  That would be to kill everypony in this room who is not us before I attack Sombra.  Would you prefer that?”  She swung her gaze fiercely from one pony to the next but none of them would meet her normal eye or her eye of fire.

None of them save for Spike.  “This isn’t like you, Twilight,” he said.

“I’m barely me right now,” Twilight responded tightly.  “And when we have time I will explain why.  But for this moment, I need everything I have become to do what has to be done for Equestria.  Now, we don’t have much time.  Will you all promise that if it comes down to it, you won’t hesitate?”

There were nods.  Reluctant and resentful nods, but nods nonetheless.  Twilight caught the eye of Rainbow Dash and they shared a significant glance.  The pegasus had the firepower and the will to do what she had to, even if the other ponies couldn’t.

“Something you’d care to share with the class?” Sombra called out from his prison.

“Just plotting your downfall,” Twilight called back.  In answer to the others’ horrified looks she just snorted derisively.  “He’s not an idiot.  He knows there’s hardly anything else we’d be doing right now.  Just be ready.  I suspect it’ll begin any moment.”

Pinkie’s message hadn’t included details about timing, but Twilight had Celestia’s memories of the Dreaming.  She knew that time between the Dreaming and the waking world generally flowed as the dreamer, which was to say Luna, wanted it to.  That meant that her attack would likely begin once Twilight was close to ready.  Of course, she still had no idea what she was going to do, so maybe she should have tried for a little more time to think.

Just as Twilight thought that perhaps a bit more time would have been useful, she saw a flicker of discomfort cross Sombra’s face.  He frowned and shook his head from side to side.  Apparently the pain only grew worse for his expression contorted into an ugly grimace.  At last he threw back his head and howled.

At precisely the same moment a silver flame washed over Pinkie’s sleeping body and devoured it entirely.  The gathered creatures froze, stunned into inaction by the unexpected event.

Twilight’s voice snapped them out of it.  “She’s fine.  This is our chance!  Go, go, go!”  Everypony and everyone took off like a shot.  Twilight’s first action was to fire off a supercharged version of the sleep spell she had cast on Pinkie.  It was aimed not at her friends this time, but at Sombra’s hostages.

Unfortunately, in most cases Sombra’s hold on his hostages was too strong to be overpowered by a simple sleep spell.  The crusaders did slump down into slumber though, and that was better than Twilight had dared to hope for.

As planned, Rarity dashed to the crusaders and scooped up their sleeping forms.  She retreated until her back was against a wall and covered them over with an illusion that matched the color and shape of the wall behind her.  Without her magic eye, even Twilight wouldn’t have been able to spot them.  That was the crusaders out of the fight at least, and Twilight was grateful for that.

Applejack, Iolite and Spike were fast off the draw as well.  They charged full speed at the great wooden door that stood at the entrance to the cavern.  Sombra’s honor guard outside was just starting to unbolt it so they could come pouring in when the three massive creatures crashed into it at full speed.

Iolite was perhaps the largest being for miles, and Applejack and Spike were no lightweights themselves.  Between the three of them they just managed to force the door closed again and then they threw themselves into holding it that way.

The door, of course, was not the only way into the room.  Unicorns teleported into the room, and the few dragons outside managed to bring some of the griffons with them when they came.  One wave of them made it in, before Sim stepped up to stop them.

Twilight saw the bright blue glow of its magic expand as a net through the cavern.  Sim was no weakling when it came to magic, and the net it cast was a powerful ward against teleportation.  Twilight felt a pair of unicorns too slow off the draw crash into the net and slice themselves to pieces, never to reappear from their failed teleport.

There was a price to be paid for that speed and power, of course.  The net Sim had fashioned was indiscriminate.  Twilight also could not teleport, not without tearing it to pieces and leaving them vulnerable.  Sim also had to direct all its focus to maintaining the net, leaving its body open to attack from the one hundred unicorns, dragons, and griffons that had gotten in before the net went up.

Fortunately, this was where Rainbow Dash came in.  For once she was the last to react.  She had been collecting power for hours, and as she flew up into the cavern she finally let it free.

Yet it wasn’t the uncontrolled explosion of before.  Instead, Twilight saw her rainbow tinted electricity spread throughout the cavern, waiting on a hair-trigger for the opportunity to go off.

The creatures that had teleported into the cavern found Rainbow’s lightning there to greet them.  Each crack of a teleport was met now with a boom of thunder.  Dash was a one mare storm, singlehoofedly pushing back Sombra’s honor guard attacking her friends.  Even more impressive than the sheer power that took was the control she displayed.  Despite holding enough energy to vaporize a pony, few of her strikes did more than stun her targets.  For all her fury, she did her best to leave the ponies she fought alive.

Gilda and Thraxus, loyal as always, guarded Dash where she hovered.  She couldn’t stop every one of Sombra’s troops simultaneously, and they realized quickly that they had to bring her down.  Like Sim, Dash’s focus on her storm left her body defenseless, but she trusted her two friends to keep her safe.

Sombra’s troops divided, half attacked Dash and the other half went for Sim.  If either failed, then the other would fall shortly and Sombra’s reinforcements from outside would overwhelm them.  Gilda and Thraxus fought like creatures possessed.  With wing and claw and talon they slashed foes, refusing to give an inch before the onslaught.

The true Sombra, realizing what Dash and Sim were doing, sent pillars of shadow hurtling toward them.  Twilight flew into the path of the oncoming magic and summoned her shield.

With a sound like rotting wood crunching underhoof, Twilight felt his magic impact on her shield.  It hit with all the strength of a train, but Twilight had strength of her own now, and though she flinched back she managed to hold him off.

Just to the side she caught the pink flash of Captain Armor’s bubble shields.  To her relief he’d managed to wrap individual bubbles around each of Sombra’s hostages.  After Sombra’s display with Mr. Cake, she’d realized that he couldn’t simply kill them with a thought.  So long as Captain Armor held those bubbles they would be safe, from Sombra, from each other, and from themselves.

But there was no time to stop and stare.  Sombra’s next attack was needle-thin lances of magic.  Invisible to the naked eye, Twilight caught them only because she could see the magic of their nature directly.  They were so thin and sharp they would have penetrated straight through Twilight’s shield.

Because of that, they were also fragile.  Twilight dropped her shield and turned to her side, covering Dash with her body and letting the magic break on her dragon-forged armor.

Even as she did so, she felt Sim’s net wobble in its protection.  Another wave of Sombra’s troops spotted the weakness and teleported into the cavern.  Dash’s lightning immediately decimated their ranks, but there were still plenty of survivors to join the crush trying to break through to her and Sim.

Spinning around, Twilight saw that the net had wobbled because Sim himself was under attack.  It was crouched on the ground and its right foreleg was missing from the joint down.  With a snarl, the blue glow of its magic flared and the attacking dragons were pushed back.  The net reformed, but it needed help.

“Go!” Gilda shouted to Twilight.  “We’ve got Dash.”

Without even bothering to respond, Twilight snapped her wings down and took off like a shot.  She relaxed the seal on her mage’s blade.  With a howl, the hilt-less blade of crackling blood-red energy reformed in her lavender magic’s grasp.  She was in control now though, she remembered feeling worse rages than this.

Her armor reinforced hoof took one dragon in the jaw and sent it spinning, even as the mage’s blade cleaved clean through a second dragon’s throat.  The third glowed a sickly green and tried to cast some poisonous cloud her way.  With scarcely a thought, her magic tore his attack to pieces and her blade found his heart.

“Can you hold the ward?” she asked Sim in the brief lull that followed.

It coughed, and blood splattered the floor.  “Can I afford not to?” it asked.  Not even trying to put wait on its missing limb, Sim climbed back up to stand on its three good claws.  “I’ll hold.  Keep them off me if you can, and take a crack a Sombra when you get the chance.”

In all the confusion, Twilight had almost forgotten the true objective of their struggle.  She cast a glance at Sombra and saw a glow of moonlight starting to surround him, distracting him from further shots at her friends.  The light wavered though, and through gaps the flow of his dark magic could still be seen.  Twilight took that to be Luna’s attack, and she knew her own attempts would come to nothing until the moonlight was unbroken around him.

“Could use some help over here!” Applejack called frantically over the din.

Before Twilight could rush over, the sound of splintering wood echoed through the cavern.  With a cry, Applejack fell back from the broken door.  Spike and Iolite were not far behind.

“Sim, drop the net.  Give us cover,” Twilight ordered.  Sim nodded and Twilight saw the blue net reform into a sold wall just on the other side of the retreating forms of Iolite, Spike, and Applejack.

“Form up on me!” Twilight shouted.  Half her mind was still directing her mage’s blade as it sang its way through foe after foe.  “Form up!”

Shining Armor was next to her almost instantly.  His horn still glowed with the magic powering the bubble shields over the hostages, and that left him without any to spare for fighting magically.

Rarity wisely stayed hidden with the crusaders.  Applejack and the two dragons joined Twilight a moment later, but Dash and her friends kept fighting were they were, halfway between Twilight and the door.

“She can’t move,” Gilda shouted back to her.

It was true, Twilight realized.  Dash was so deeply wound into her magic, that she hadn’t even heard the call to retreat.  All of her focus was on sending the storm flashing again and again into the attacking troops.  It was helping too.  She kept disrupting them before they could form up for a good charge on Sim’s wall, and that was the only thing keeping their defenses intact.

At least from the front.  Twilight spared a second she didn’t have to glance back at Sombra’s true body.  It was still insensate with the pain of Luna’s attack, but the walls of moonlight weren’t complete yet.  They still needed more time.

“I’ll get Dash.  Get ready to run!” She shouted to Gilda and Thraxus.

Shouting wouldn’t get Dash’s attention, she was too focused on manipulating the electric fields in the cavern and Twilight was too far away in any case.  Instead, Twilight used her magic like a battery to set up a potential difference, with one end at Dash and the other next to her.

Dash’s control over the storm in the cavern meant that that change was like a glowing neon sign.  Her head whipped around and she stared right at Twilight with eyes of blazing pools of white.  They looked much like Twilight’s own when she’d lost control of her magic and Twilight now understood just how disconcerting it was to be on the other side of that impersonal glare.

Still, Dash needed to move, not just look.  Twilight gave a little tug on the magnetic field, just enough to nudge Dash toward her.  The other pony got the hint.

“Run! Now!”  Twilight snapped.  Gilda and Thraxus moved at once, disengaging with their current opponents and flying straight toward Twilight.  As a bolt of lightning, Dash followed them.  Twilight felt her fur prickle beneath her armor as the electrified pony appeared at her side faster than the eye could track.

They were gathered in one place.  They had Sim’s wall, Dash’s lightning, and all the magic Twilight could conjure.  It still wouldn’t be enough.  Sombra could keep bringing more and more ponies, and when the armies arrived, if not before, they would fall.  Already his honor guard hammered at Sim’s blue wall, unmindful of the lightning that brought so many of them low in the process.

Twilight needed to take out Sombra.  His defeat was still the only way to ensure their own survival.  Glancing back once again, she looked for any sign that Luna had succeeded in her attack.

Her eyes provided her with a curious double vision.  To her mortal eye Sombra had disappeared behind a thick spherical shield of pure darkness.  It was broken only by the spears of light that transfixed Sombra, and it was wrapped so closely around those that it was constantly being disrupted and reinforced.

To the ember of the sun that graced Twilight’s immortal eye, the shadowy sphere was still present, but the contrast made it a small and frail thing.  Towering unbroken walls of moonlight wrapped around Sombra’s body, enclosing him entirely in a cylinder of light.

Luna had done it.

Sombra was cut off from his network.  In response, he had protected himself with the strongest shield he could cast.  Now was the time to strike, but to do that Twilight needed to break through that shield.

“He is cut off!” Twilight cried.  “Now’s our chance.  Sim, Dash, hold the wall!  Armor, keep hold of the hostages.  Everypony else, hit that shield with everything you’ve got!”

Applejack charged the shield, her heavy armor clattering as she thundered forward.  She smashed into it with all the force she could muster.  Unfortunately, she’d finally found something harder than her own head.  She bounced off and crashed to the ground, the impact having hurt her as nothing else had since she’d put on the armor.

Iolite and Spike both opened their mouths wide and blew emerald streams of dragon fire against the shield.  Thraxus tried to add to their inferno, but he couldn’t muster the same firepower.  He joined Gilda instead in making passes swiping at it with talon and wingblade.

Twilight herself brought her mage’s blade around and sent it rocketing toward the sphere.  That blade, which had cut through armor, skin, and bone with equal ease, clanged off without leaving a dent.  Twilight followed up with a penetrating beam of pure magical force, but it disappeared into the sphere with scarcely a ripple.  The dragon fire died away, revealing that it too had been ineffective.

“If you’re doing something, do it soon!” Sim called out, strain clear in its voice.  “We can’t hold much longer.”

Through the sphere Twilight heard Sombra cackling through his evident pain.  “Hahaha. Not enough, my dear.  Take my subjects from me, chain me with this cruel sunlight.  Even with the power of dragons and alicorns it’s still not enough.  I am King Sombra and the world is mine!”  At his words a wave of darkness billowed out of the sphere and roiled toward Twilight.

Twilight brought her mage’s blade around and it cut the attack in two, sending it rushing to either side of her small band.  She gritted her teeth and hung on as the force Sombra’s attack kept bearing down on her.

This wasn’t working, Twilight realized as the attack ended and she could return her blade to its grizzly work on the other side of the wall.  They were getting pushed further and further back, and the shield still was unblemished.  Only one pony left had a chance of being strong enough to break through.

“DASH!” Twilight screamed in desperation, magic coloring her shout and rubbing her throat raw.  It was enough to get Rainbow’s attention.  She turned her head and saw at once what Twilight needed.

The smell of ozone intensified as Dash threw everything she had into a single shot.  She was deeply in tune with the electricity covering the cavern, sensitive to the smallest variations in the electric field.  Perhaps that was why she knew what to do.

A great rainbow beam shot through with electricity fired out from Rainbow Dash.  The air crackled as it passed and it blinded all mortal eyes looking at it.  Even Sombra’s attacking troops had to pause in their assault and turn away to shield their eyes.

Twilight, though, possessed more than mortal sight.  Her pony eye was forced to close, but her magical eye remained open, made as it was from the full light of the sun.  That was why she saw that rainbow beam split into five separate threads and smash into the shield right where the spears of light broke through it.

The shield did not break, not completely.  Jagged cracks of light crisscrossed the previously unblemished shadow-stuff, but even as Twilight looked they began to repair themselves.  She knew the weakness now though, and the spears of light even gave her an inkling of what to do when the shield broke.  It had to be broken first, though, and that was still no easy task.

“The spears!” she shouted.  “Attack the sphere where the spears cut through it.”

The others understood and the moved quickly to comply.  Spike and Iolite flew up and breathed fire down along the spears through Sombra’s raised forelegs.  Gilda and Thraxus worked together on the spear through one of his legs, trading off slash for slash so that the shield didn’t have a second to recover.  Twilight brought her mage’s blade around and wedged it deep into the crack near Sombra’s other leg.  She gave a savage wrench of the blade and was gratified to see the crack widen.

They needed one more pony to strike.  Dash was spent, and even as they fought she sank to the ground.  If Sim’s concentration dropped for even an instant, its wall would break and the honor guard would be on them.  Twilight was on the verge of ordering Rarity to drop her disguise, abandon the crusaders, and strike the needed blow.

Instead, Applejack came rocketing back around.  There was blood flowing freely from the inside of the helmet, and Twilight would have been shocked if she didn’t have a terrible concussion.  But the earth pony was nothing if not stubborn, and she ran with all the force her weight could muster.

Applejack crashed head first into the sphere right next to the spear into Sombra’s side.  It was too much, even for a shield conjured with all of Sombra’s strength.  As Applejack sank to the ground, her body spent, the sphere crumbled into dust.

At last, Sombra was revealed and the walls of moonlight still held.

A fierce grin spread across Twilight’s face.  “Sombra’s mine now.  You hold.  For as long as you can, you hold!”

Not waiting to hear their response she dove forwards, wings pumping as fast as they could.  He fired blast after blast at her, but she brought her mage’s blade around each time and cut them away.

His face contorted in a hideous snarl as she reached him.  On the wings that drove his jealousy she floated there, face to face and eye to eye.  She wrapped one hoof around his head and wrenched it forward until they were almost muzzle to muzzle.  Their horns crossed and Twilight’s magic flared.

Sombra and Twilight were pulled together into a shared mindscape, one oh so similar in type to the space Twilight had recently shared with Celestia.


***


The clash of steel on steel, the cries of pain, the smell of spilled blood, all faded away.  A profound silence fell as the place in which Twilight and Sombra stood became wholly other.  Around them stretched a vast plain.  In place of swaying grass, waves of darkness flowed beneath them off to the horizon.  There were no other features of the space, nothing for the eye to fix upon nor any obvious light source.  Just the unending waves of darkness and the minds of two ponies determined to destroy one another.

Twilight’s armor was gone, and even her mage’s blade felt distant.  It was a mental space, not a physical one, and that meant there were no tools to use or friends to rely on.  By the desolate look of the place, Sombra had long since taken the measure of his own mind and come to terms with his own darkness.  That was useful to know, but it made the prospect of fighting him here all the more frightening.

Sombra’s snarl had faded and he was laughing again.  “And I thought you had some clever plan.  You think you have a chance here?  In a shared mindscape?  It seems I overestimated you, Twilight.  You claimed to know the spell I first used for enslavement.  You should have guessed that for every pony I enslaved I had to subdue their mind in a place much like this.  I am the greatest mental mage the world has ever known.  And you chose to challenge me here?  Ha!”

Twilight listened with only half an ear.  His strength and familiarity with this place was an unpleasant surprise, to be sure, but it shouldn’t truly matter.  She had a plan, and for that plan to work she needed his magical signature.  The memories of his foalhood which she had gained in Hvergelmir formed the basis of it, but it would have changed in the years since.  She could not afford to make Celestia’s mistake and tie her spells to an obsolete signature.

“It seems fitting that it would come down to the two of us,” Twilight said, playing for the time she needed to investigate the mindscape.  Already she was comparing it with the memories she had, triangulated how it must have changed over the centuries of rule and imprisonment.

“It is indeed,” Sombra said ponderously.  He continued speaking, something about destiny she thought, but Twilight didn’t bother paying any heed to the monologue.  Pieces were falling into place, like tumblers in a lock, but not fast enough.

Nor was she subtle enough.  Twilight had thought she’d pasted on her face an appropriate expression of trepidation and attention, but Sombra must have seen through it.  With no transition from speech to action, he launched his first attack.

The shadowy plain doubled up on itself in a wave of gigantic proportions.  It was would have dwarfed even the crystal spire at its peak.  As it crested high above Twilight she was forced to spend some precious attention avoiding it.  Twilight flapped desperately, flying upwards and backwards to avoid the wave as it came crashing down.  It was a close thing, and flecks of the darkness peppered her coat as the waved frothed and crashed just below her hooves.

From the fallen wave tendrils of darkness rose, seeking to drag her under.  Twilight reached for her magic even as she fled.  She meant to make a barrage of light to counter the seeking darkness, but her magic wouldn’t come to her.

“No magic here, Twilight,” Sombra called with amusement as he watched her flee.  “My ocean of darkness devours the energy before you can even begin to shape it.  You can find no victory here.”

It was true.  Twilight found even the simplest of spells beyond her reach.  She could feel her mage’s blade at least, it was too closely tied to her mental and emotional state to be completely suppressed.  But she lacked any ability to summon the energy needed to make it manifest.  Even her heart’s fury couldn’t empower her against that endless expanse.

Bereft of magic and earth to stand upon, Twilight was left only with the skills of a pegasus.  She spun and dodged among Sombra’s grasping tendrils, relying on Celestia’s instincts honed by centuries of flight.  She spiraled downward, avoiding a seeking thread and swooped to the left just as a wave sought to hem her in.  All the while her mind worked feverishly at analyzing the surrounding mindscape.

Had she been an ordinary pony there would have been no hope of succeeding.  There were too many ways in which a pony could fall, and without magic she would never have been able to guess at the precise consequences of each type.  Twilight, however, was a gestalt of all the memories of the crystal ponies and she knew the intimate details of their lives and their magical signatures.  She could compare the grey of the sky above to the way the sky had looked to a hundred depressed ponies.  The shadows that sought her reminded so many of the shadows they’d found in depths of a mug or the empty alleyways of an uncaring city.

Twilight mined the misery of her memories and put it to use.  She could feel as she got closer.  Each added bit of precision to the signature she held in her mind resonated with the world around her and even Sombra himself, though he did not seem to feel it.  If she could just flee from his grasp for long enough to find that one perfect resonance that would cut through his defenses.

And then, quite suddenly, there was no more time.  She had made a misstep in the delicate dance between contemplation and frantic flight.  A lucky tendril grabbed her hind hoof and that was that.  She flapped desperately, but hopelessly.  Without magic there was no way to cut through the darkness.  Thin though it was, that tendril was a death sentence.  It instantly crept upward, engulfing her entire leg.  She writhed in its grasp and even tried to stab through it with her horn.  To no avail.  Implacably, it reeled her in, pulling her near to the ground and to Sombra.

“Really,” he called, coming closer to see his vanquished foe, “what were you thinking?”

Twilight had no choice but to use what she had.  It wasn’t perfect, but it was closer than she had any right to be.  She took her best guest at Sombra’s magical signature and threw it into the spell she’d prepared, the only one she could imagine that had a chance of working in the mindscape.  But it needed one more thing, eye contact, and she was currently held upside down and backwards.

That could not be permitted to stop her.  Twilight wrenched herself sideways and gained just enough range of motion that she could look straight at Sombra.  Her right eye, the eye she had lost and that had been replaced by a piece of the sun, met his green and red glare.  Buried deep within her socket was an ember of the mantle of the sun.  It was a part of her, and it had come with her when all other magic was blocked.  Knowing it was her last hope, she had kept it hidden, encouraged Sombra to forget what he had seen when they fought in the real world.  Now it was unveiled.

For the first time in millennia there was sunlight in Sombra’s mind.

The mere sight of it transfixed him.  A moment later, the spell tied to that eye and targeted with Twilight’s best guess at his magical signature fired.  A visible beam of sunlight shot forward and grasped him with its light.

It was a stark thing, the single ray of sunlight in that place of endless shadow.  It was not beautiful, or peaceful, and it did not have the strength to bring the cleansing fire.  The shadows loomed all the larger around that thin beam of light connecting Sombra and Twilight.  Almost, they managed to extinguish it entirely.

Almost.

Twilight’s guess had been close enough.  Though Sombra would have dearly liked to have broken the beam or turned it aside, it was tied too precisely to his signature for him to break or for the darkness of that place to snuff it out.  It could not destroy him, or even hurt him, but it asserted its defiance nonetheless, and for the moment he was held back.

So long as the light held him, Sombra could not control the darkness with the same precision he had previously displayed.  The shadow wrapped around Twilight’s leg wavered and she slipped free, never dropping her gaze.  “I did not come to challenge you here,” she said, drawing slowly nearer to him.  “I came to give you a gift.”

“What are you thinking?” he asked again, but now there was fear in his voice.  His muscles tensed and flexed beneath his coat, but this was a place of the mind and his mind was pinned.  “No, stay back.  No!”  His flailing caused waves of darkness to crest and crashed around them, but so long as Twilight’s ember of the sun held his eye, there was a space of calmness which his darkness could not touch.

“Luna wrapped you in sunlight and it made you strong even as it tortured you.”  Twilight floated before him again, in a mirror of their positions in the real world.  “She didn’t dig deep enough to rout out your darkness and so she ended up strengthening your shadow.”  A fell light burned even in her mortal eye, and in the other the sun blazed.  “I won’t make that mistake.”

Sombra tried for his trademark equanimity.  “You have indeed caught me, for now, but look around you.”  He gestured broadly at the dark ocean that surrounded them.  “Do you really think your little ray of light can purge all of this?  Or that you can hold me once my connection to my subjects is restored?  No, I can afford to be patient.  My darkness will triumph in the end.  You simply don’t have enough light.”

Twilight did not waiver in the face of his derision.  “Don’t I?  I told you I came to give you a gift.  I bequeath to you now the mantle of the sun!”

Spreading her limbs wide, Twilight let the amber chains of dusk shoot forth from her legs and wings, stabbing deep into Sombra just as the spears of light had done.  He screamed.  Long and loud and the mindscape trembled with it.  Twilight reveled in the sound and, though she might have wished to think that that revelry in another’s suffering came from her borrowed memories, she knew it was purely hers, bought and paid for.

Slowly, the golden orb emerged from Twilight’s chest.  Though she remembered knowing it well, the mantle of the sun had been hers for such a short time that it did not hurt her to let it go.  Somewhere deep inside, though, Celestia was screaming.  That scream was matched by the sheer hatred of the mantle for the being Twilight sought to make its new host.  And the new host himself certainly did not want to accept it either.

But Twilight’s will was the only one that mattered now.  Celestia was no more than the ghost of a memory.  The mantle of the sun was powerful, yes, but it was meant to yield to ponies and yield it did.  Sombra, for his part, fought the gift with everything he had, but so long as the ray of light from Twilight’s eye transfixed him, his will could not overpower hers.

And so progress was slow, but progress was made.  The orb inched forward moment by moment until it left Twilight’s body entirely and began its steady way toward Sombra.  He redoubled his efforts, wrenching painfully at the chains and the eye that bound him.  He turned his fearsome will against the orb, trying to force it back.  The darkness outside frothed like a tempest and wave after wave crashed against their little space of calm, trying to tarnish the light.

It failed.

Whenever he came close, Twilight’s will was there to push him down once again.  She could not have done it alone, that much was sure.  There was no pony that could have fairly stood against him, will against will or magic against magic, neither in the real world nor in the mindscape.  But the sun cared little for his will or his supposed might.

An eternity later, or so it seemed, the thinnest edge of the orb brushed against Sombra’s grey coat, just above his heart.  At once, Sombra’s screaming cut off and he fixed such a lucid gaze on Twilight that she feared she’d been tricked.

“No, no, Twilight,” he said, “it still hurts.  But I have borne great pain for longer than I can say and I can bear it a little longer to offer up my last words.”

Twilight grit her teeth and redoubled her effort, drawing a gasp from Sombra as the orb thrust a little deeper.  “No.  No last words. No dramatic farewell.  You have nothing to offer the world and when you are nothing but a burnt cinder everything be the better for it.”

“Come now, Twilight.  Surely you acknowledge my skill with magic and my– “

“No!” Twilight cried and with a last furious effort she thrust the golden orb that was the mantle of the sun deep into the essence of Sombra’s being.  Like a lit match to gasoline his whole being blazed out light and his mind was shattered in the midst of it.  As the sunlight bridged the gap to the ocean of darkness below, that too went up in flames.

The sun burned its way through the ocean of darkness.  A white light, so bright and pure that even Twilight could not look at it covered the plain entirely, and Twilight felt herself engulfed in the unleashed power of the sun.


***


Luna and her moon-blessed soldiers sang.  She could not have said for how long.  After the manner of dreams it could have been mere moments or a lifetime.  All she knew, all that they all knew, was that they had to endure until something changed.

Luna was the first to have some inkling that something had in fact changed.  Gazing into the heart of the shadow the soldiers surrounded, she saw the faintest glimmer of light.  A brief sparkle, so fast she might have blinked it away like the first shimmer of the evening star.

And like that evening star, when she looked again it shone all the brighter.  Clear enough now that the other soldiers could see it.  They were disciplined and they did not lose focus, though a hopeful melody was now threaded throughout the music.  In a sudden blossoming that hope was rewarded.

Light.

A light inimical to the very fabric of the Dreaming, burning it away as morning’s first light burns away the night’s dreams.  It pained Luna to see the Dreaming treated so, but if the Dreaming could not bear the light, then neither could the darkness.  The light fountained out and filled the space the moon-blessed contained in an instant, burning until the darkness was no more.  Then it turned its rage against their barrier itself, furious at anything that dared contain it.

As hard as Luna looked, she could no longer see the faintest trace of the darkness they had contained, so she gave the order.

“Enough!  Enough my brave soldiers!  We have done what needed doing.  Now rest your weary voices and minds.”  With a great sigh of relief, the soldiers stopped their singing and dropped the barrier dividing what had once been Sombra from his network.  Many dropped to the floor from sheer exhaustion, but Luna found herself buoyed up by a need to see this ending.

Once the barrier dropped the darkness of Sombra’s network rushed in.  It sought to reconnect with Sombra and it recoiled at finding only light in his place.  For a moment, Luna feared that the oncoming darkness would douse this sudden and unexpected light.  But no, no she knew that light and she knew it would not, could not fall to something as fragile as that.

The filaments of shadow were made incandescent by the energy of that light, searing along the paths of those connections through the Dreaming.  The darkness had carved the channels, but now the light poured through them like molten metal and the Dreaming would never be the same.  Dimly, Luna could feel that the part of her still connected to the Dreaming was screaming as its flesh was branded by the light flowing through the network.

Had she still been master of the Dreaming, Luna was not certain she’d still be conscious.  Indeed, many of her soldiers had given way after being asked for far too much.  It was worth it though.  For all the pain it was causing and damage it was doing to the Dreaming, this light was not an enemy and it was driving out Sombra’s taint.

Driven by a need to see the process through to the end, Luna took to the air, racing the sun to the outside.  The sunlight picked up speed as it went, burning though the shadow threads faster and faster, and leaving a glittering web of light in its place.  Luna hardly dared think what the lingering light might mean, especially if, as she suspected, that light was a permanent addition to the Dreaming.

Darting around corners and using her legs to push off of walls, Luna came out of the narrow corridor into a rotunda from which two other corridors opened.  There was a long staircase spiraling up the edges and hoofprints she recognized as her own pressed into the cracked rock at the center.

Once again she had no time to climb the interminable stairs.  Fitting her hooves to her hoofprints from the night when it had all begun, she pushed off and shot upward.  The long ascent passed in a blur and before Luna realized it she was through the wooden door and out into the open air of the Dreaming.

The light had spread even further.  From her spot at the base of the crystal spire she could see little flare ups from when the sunlight encountered clusters of Sombra’s slaves.  Driving her wings on, Luna ascended past the top of the spire, desperate to see everything the light would do.

In the real world her vision would be limited by the horizon, but this was the Dreaming and what could be imagined became what was.  Thus, Luna ascended high enough that she could look out across the whole of Equestria and see that the light had not halted in its spread.  Every trace of Sombra’s darkness was rooted out and in its place there came these gleaming connections of sunlight.

Darkness lifted at last and the sun rose over Equestria.  No, not over.

The sun rose in the very heart of every Equestrian citizen.
> Aftermath
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a strange journey home.  The ponies that had been possessed by Sombra refused to speak.  They floated along, eyes glazed and minds clearly elsewhere.  Luna feared that her and Twilight’s actions against Sombra had left an entire nation traumatized beyond repair.

Watching the ponies she had taken with her into the Dreaming interact with Sombra’s hostages was the hardest to bear.  Applejack’s plaintive pleas for Granny Smith, Big Mac, and Applebloom to talk to her were gut wrenching, and seemed a cruel and unnecessary reminder of Sombra’s presence.

Luna wished she could have been with those ponies in the immediate aftermath of Sombra’s defeat.  Though she couldn’t have done anything except offer moral support when they discovered that Sombra’s defeat had not restored their loved ones to normal.  Instead, Luna had been trapped in the Dreaming.

Without the mantle of the moon and its concurrent command of the Dreaming, it turned out that Luna could not open a portal into or out of the Dreaming.  She’d been forced to wait until those ponies to whom she’d gifted the mantle of the moon had recovered and then taught them the spell.  They had to work together to cast it, though that could have been because of the pervasive exhaustion from the fight that had just ended.  In any case, a portal soon took shape.

It was at that point that a second unpleasant discovery was made.  Save for two, the ponies possessing the mantle of the moon couldn’t leave the Dreaming.  No matter how finely they cast the portal or how they banged their hooves against it, it proved solid to their touch.  Only Pinkie Pie and Sunlit Rooms could pass through the portal, and Pinkie refused to do so in no uncertain terms.  So Luna had passed through the portal with only Sunlit Rooms at her side, leaving behind a promise to return soon to help guide the moon-blessed soldiers.

She had emerged into a flurry of activity.  Twilight had taken charge and was getting everypony moving back through the city to collect all of Sombra’s victims that they could find.  They’d scarcely managed to exchange more than a terse question and answer.

“He’s dead?” Twilight had asked,

“As far as I can tell,” Luna had confirmed.

And that was that.  Twilight had dashed off to keep trying to gather his victims into one place before misfortune could befall them.  Luna, for her part, had offered what aid and comfort she could.

Since the griffons had destroyed the train station closest to the city, they faced the prospect of a long march clear to Galloping Gorge before they would come to the next station along the line.  It was still better than walking all the way back to Canterlot, but both distances seemed equally impossible a travel at the moment.  Undertaking that march with so many ponies in a daze would be incredibly dangerous.  Injuries would mount fast and they had very little in the way of supplies. 

Bizarrely, by the time the motley collection of creatures arrived at the ruins of that first station, it had been repaired.

Not completely.  The station hut was still in ruins, and Luna could see places where the track had been patched with whatever materials could be found lying about.  As patchwork as the track looked, however, it must have been sufficient because a train was parked at the station, gently lofting puffs of steam as it waited for them.

The staff of the train bore the same dazed look as Sombra’s other victims.  Despite that, they performed their duties adequately and, after a short discussion, Twilight began directing ponies to board the train.  Luna hoped to have a much needed conversation with Twilight once everypony was settled on the mysterious train, but the other pony never seemed to sit still. 

Truth be told, Luna did not try that hard.  They had both changed dramatically since they’d last spoken.  For all that they’d worked well together, Luna didn’t feel like she really knew the old Twilight, let alone the new one.  And that was without considering exactly what Twilight had done to earn the mantle of the sun, however briefly she’d had it.  No, Luna was not ready for that answer.

Besides, there was another task that required her attention now that she’d checked in with the real world.  Luna found a quiet out-of-the-way spot and curled up to go to sleep.  The moon-blessed were owed some answers and she intended to do her best to deliver.  She might not be able to make a portal to the Dreaming, but she could still go the old fashioned way.

She could go the old fashioned way, but that was a circuitous route, taking her through a place she did not often visit: her own dreams.  Luna dreamed of a night sky with a black hole where they moon should have been, and there was no mystery in that.  She dreamed of spinning worlds dancing around one another in a vast cosmic cycle.  She saw the great dome of the heavens crack like an egg, or unfurl like a flower, and no matter how closely so looked, she couldn’t make sense of what lay within.

And there were ponies there.  No living ones she knew, but the ones she had once known long ago.  They loomed over her, tall as giants, and shook their heads and cast her back.  There was music there, but not of her making.  Just as they chaos became too much, and the dream started to turn toward nightmare, her dream was suddenly filled with wavering sheets of light and color.  A warm hoof was slung protectively around her shoulders.

“That’s enough, Princess,” a voice said.  It carried her upward and with a sensation like breaking the surface of the water, she came into the Dreaming.

Pinkie Pie stood at eye level next to her, and Luna marveled at how the other pony had grown.  She wore the added inches well, and the pink and green tinted mane suited her as faded colorlessness had not.  There was a confidence in how she stood that seemed less artificial than it had before Sombra’s defeat.  It was good that she felt confident, because Luna most certainly did not.

“I couldn’t find my way back,” Luna said slowly.  “There should have been a path through my dreams to the Dreaming, but it was gone.”  It made sense, she supposed.  She had given up her connection to the Dreaming, and if she wanted to reach it in the future she would have to find her own way.

“I could teach you,” Pinkie offered.  “I’ve always known how to get here.”  She smiled and it was a gentler and softer smile than she usually wore.  She held out a hoof and a yellow balloon with a smiley face drawn onto it appeared.  Pinkie watched as it rose up and floated out of sight.  “This place has always felt like home.”

“Pinkie, you can show the princess some other time,” Sunlight Rooms said.  “Right now there’s a lot of ponies that want to speak with her.”

At her words Luna looked up and realized they were not alone.  All 108 of the stars who now held the mantle of the moon were gathered around her.  They stood in one of the compartments of the train in which Luna was sleeping, though the carriage had expanded to be able to hold them all comfortably.  Worried frowns were on every face, and Luna had the feeling that if she had not been the princess, they would have been outright glaring at her.

Barrel strode forward to join Pinkie Pie and Sunlit Rooms.  He and Sunlit Rooms also had grown and Luna had, for perhaps the first time in her life, the curious experience of looking straight into the eyes of every one of her conversational partners.

“Is Sombra gone then, princess?” Barrel asked.

“He is.”  A wave of relief spread through the gathered ponies and there was a lessening, though not a vanishing, of the frowns.

Barrel bowed his head.  “That’s good.  Now that he’s gone you can take this connection back from us.  It’s past time we went back to the real world.”

With a sinking feeling, Luna looked from one hopeful face to the next.  Only in Sunlit Rooms’ downcast eyes did Luna see a trace of understanding.

“I thought you understood,” Luna said.  “In giving you the mantle of the moon it split and grew.  I can no more take it back than I could raise the moon with my bare hooves.”

“Besides, why would you want to go back?” Pinkie gestured widely and songbirds popped singing into existence with every swing of her hooves.  “This is a wonderful place!”

“Be that as it may, most of us have family in the real world.  I want to see my daughters again.”  Barrel’s voice was desperate.  “Please princess, take this from us.”

Luna shook her head.  “It can’t be done.”

The silence that followed this pronouncement was like that of a hospital room after a doctor has been by to deliver the bad news.  Nopony moved or spoke; they could not believe that they would have to live apart from all they had ever known.

Luna felt their need like a physical weight upon her skin.  She was still the princess and these ponies more than any other still had need of her.  Luna cast her mind about, trying to find some way to alleviate the burden she had placed on those who had trusted her.  An idea struck her, a connection that she really should have made earlier.  She turned to Sunlit Rooms.

“You all raised the moon right?  I felt you.”   She had, and though she had expected it, it had hurt nonetheless.  Luna felt no connection to the moon anymore, and she had known it was risen only when she saw it take its place in the sky.  The full impact of that bereavement still hadn’t hit her, and she suspected it would take a long time to fully pass.  Still, the moon-blessed needed the moon more than she did.

“We had to,” Sunlit Rooms said.  “We all felt it call to us at what must have been the end of the day in the real world.  I’m sorry, princess.”
Luna shook her head.  “I did not ask to condemn you.  It is yours now to raise.  But I think I know why.  Please, try again to build a portal to the real world.”

“It’ll hurt us real bad if this is some kind of trick,” Barrel said, looking out over the pinched and trapped faces of the moon-blessed soldiers.  “I don’t think we need more bad news right now.”

“I can’t know that this will work,” Luna said.  “But I have a hunch.  Trust me one more time.”

With another assessing look at the ponies, Barrel nodded.  “As you command, princess.”

It was a curious thing to see the portal being built from the outside.  Luna could sense the energy flowing between the other ponies, building stability foreign to that world.  She could feel Pinkie Pie, Sunlit Rooms and Barrel serving as the focal points of the spell, taking responsibility for manifesting the portal itself.

Luna felt, too, a curious echo, as if there were 108 portals being made and layered on top of one another.  The group was unnecessary, she realized.  Each of pony had the capacity to make their own portals, or they would once they believed that they could.  It made sense.  For all that those three were special, everypony present was numbered among the moon-blessed.

Except her anyway.

Luna pushed that thought away as the dark swirl of the portal took shape.  There would be plenty of time for maudlin self-reflection later, right now her ponies needed her.

“Portal’s made,” Barrel said.  “What now, princess?”

“Sunlit Rooms first,” Luna said, “stick a hoof through the portal, just to confirm.”

“We know she can go through,” Barrel griped. 

“Humor me for a moment.  Go ahead Sunlit.”

Without hesitation, Sunlit Rooms trotted to the portal and pressed her hoof to and then through the inky swirling surface.  She pulled it out and nodded.  “I can still go through.”

“Barrel, now you try,” Luna directed.

Moving slowly, the old quartermaster approached the edge of the portal as the other ponies watched with bated breath. His hoof inched closer and closer to the surface, seeming to slow down as it progressed.  At last it made contact, and then sank right through.

The moon-blessed erupted into cheers.  Dark furred ponies showed off sharp incisors and leathery wings as the laughed and hugged one another. 

Barrel just stared wonderingly at his hoof.  “So we can go home.”

“You can visit,” Luna said, her voice cutting through the celebrations.  “But only so long as my – as your moon is in the sky.  You will have to make your home here.  And with such capable leadership, I think you’ll be alright,” she added, looking to the three ponies that stood taller than the rest.

“Us?” Sunlit Rooms asked.  “That can’t be right.  We’re not alicorns.  We’re not meant to lead like you are.  I especially shouldn’t…” she trailed off.

Luna placed a comforting hoof on her shoulder.  “You are not alicorns, that is true.  But you have become something more than you were, and something different than who you especially used to be.  This place is not mine anymore.  I can’t even get here by myself or in the flesh.”

Sunlit Rooms still hesitated.  She looked down at her hooves then back at the wing-shaped glowing light that still graced her back.  “I’m not sure.”

“Can’t you feel the beginning of something new?” Luna asked, her voice low and urgent.  “Barrel to lead, you to administer, and Pinkie to add that sparkling element of unpredictability.  You moon-blessed are going to become something wonderful, and I can’t wait to see what you choose to be.”

“Come on Sunlit!” Pinkie said.  “Don’t you want to go exploring?”

“With the portal open I’m not as worried as I was,” Barrel said.  “So long as we don’t lose touch with the real world, I say we make a stab at this new thing Princess Luna is talking about.  What do you say, Sunlit Rooms?  Want to give it a try with us?”

Other soldiers joined in, shouting encouragement to the little pegasus, not so little anymore.  They had all known her from the camp in which they’d spent the past six months, and they recognized in her the capabilities she was slow to see herself.

“You always looked after us Sunlit!”

“Don’t leave us now!”

“Your wings are so pretty!”

Sunlit was choked up, but she laughed through it.  “Alright, alright everypony.  Now that we know that we can all at least visit home, let’s see what we can make of the Dreaming.”

Cheers broke out again and this time they didn’t stop.  The moon-blessed ponies chatted eagerly to one another, excitedly planning what they might do to make the Dreaming theirs.  With all the chatter, focus was lost and the portal faded away, but nopony really seemed to mind.  It would be back when it was needed.

“You’ll help though, right?” Sunlit Rooms asked Luna in an undertone.  “You know the Dreaming better than anypony.”

The wide smile across Luna’s face came like the breaking of dawn.  “I do and I will.  I know something too about the dreams of ponies beyond the edges of the Dreaming, and you will need to set free those of your compatriots that still slumber there.  I’d love to show you all the tricks of the Dreaming, so you can learn to love it as much as I do.”


***


Luna spent much of the next three days asleep, sharing what she knew with the moon-blessed ponies.  They were eager to learn, though some had already gone haring off into the Dreaming, wanting to see what they could discover for themselves.  Others had visited the train or other locations in the real world during the night. 

Pinkie had even been coaxed back into the real world to spend time with her friends and let them know that she was alright.  Her self outside the Dreaming was still fragile, but she now carried at least part of the Dreaming with her always.  Though she wasn’t as strong or as confident as in the Dreaming, her real world self was still firmer than it had been.  She could bear to visit the world now that Sombra was gone.  Whether she would ever enjoy it was another question entirely.

Luna had enjoyed spending her time this way, but in truth she was also avoiding Twilight.  They both knew they needed to have a serious conversation, and Luna was frankly not looking forward to it.  Considering how little effort Twilight had made to find her, Luna suspected that the other pony wasn’t thrilled by the prospect either.  Still, it couldn’t be put off forever.

So, when they were an hour out from Canterlot, Twilight finally did track Luna down and offered the most ominous of phrases.

“Luna, we need to talk,” Twilight said.  She had found Luna in a sleeper car near the back of the train.  Luna had been using it as an out of the way spot for her extended sleeping time.  It was a large and luxurious space which had once been a first class car.  There was no pony to begrudge her taking it for herself, the train wasn’t crowded after all.  Luna and Twilight both took seats on an adjacent pair of nearby plush purple train seats.

“You want to talk now?” Luna asked.  “You’ve practically been avoiding me since the battle, though to be fair I suppose I have been as well.”

“Yes, I was avoiding you,” Twilight acknowledged.  “I realize you didn’t mind, but that still wasn’t fair of me and I’m sorry.  I was — not looking forward this conversation.”

The apology took Luna by surprise.  Twilight never seemed the type to admit to error, possibly because she had historically made so few of them.  “Alright, I can understand avoiding a difficult conversation.  Admittedly, that’s why I never forced the issue either.  But you’re right, we need to have this conversation.  Shall I send for some tea as we talk?  It seems traditional at this point.”

Twilight winced.  “No tea, please, I don’t think I could take it yet.  You’ll understand why soon.”  And with that she jumped into her story.  How she had traveled to Hvergelmir and chosen to jump in, bypassing Sombra’s barrier.  How she had nearly been taken by spirits from the Crystal Empire, and how she had met Celestia.  How she had believed Celestia would work with her and how she had been betrayed.

Oh she didn’t say it quite so baldly as that, but Luna knew the truth and the truth stung as it was wont to do.

The words tumbled one after the other as Twilight continued her telling.  Luna rather got the feeling that the other pony had desperately needed to tell share the full story with somepony who would actually have some understanding of what it had been like for her.  Her friends, as much as she loved them, just didn’t have the perspective on millennia of memories the way Luna did.

Twilight explained how she had struggled with Celestia and how she won.  How Celestia had had the last laugh, or last gift.  Finally, Twilight told of how she had ascended to alicornhood and the way she had struck back against Sombra, finishing him at last with the mantle of the sun.

When the tale was done and they sat in silence, Luna could not have said how she felt.  It was inconceivable that her sister was no more.  Celestia had always been there, looming over her, yes, but keeping her safe and looking after the world for her.  What was Luna supposed to do with a dead sister whose every memory resided in the pony before her?

“Thank you for telling me,” Luna finally said.  A poor answer but all she could offer at the moment.

“I know it can’t be easy,” Twilight said and in her compassion Luna heard echoes of Celestia, though who could say if it was really there?  “Sometimes, when facing a painful loss, there is a desire to suppress-“

“Don’t.”  Now Luna could hear her sister clearly in Twilight’s voice.  “Don’t try to be her.  I will not permit it.”  Twilight’s story had wound Luna tight, and the other pony’s attempt at compassion had set her buzzing off key.

“I just wanted to offer what comfort I could,” Twilight said.

“Be quiet, please.  Give me a few moments.”  Twilight nodded and Luna let the silence between them linger.  It was a hard thing, to face her sister’s murderer.  No matter that the other pony didn’t view it that way.  Worse, to see that pony, to see Twilight wearing her sister’s mannerisms.  Not just those she had come by honestly as Celestia’s student, but those that had been hidden in Celestia’s private moments over her long life.

The compassion had been pure Celestia, and in speaking it Twilight revealed that, even at the end Celestia hadn’t really understood Luna at all.  She had never comprehended that it was that compassion, earnest, well-meant, and utterly impersonal, that had driven Luna away.  How can you gain respect from someone who viewed your pain as a problem to soothe away, utterly the same in distance and kind as the problem of poverty among Canterlot’s poor?

“Twilight,” Luna said, breaking the silence, “you are an alicorn now and have a myriad of memories to bring wisdom with your power.  I acknowledge you as my equal and will treat you as such.  I think we might even manage to be friends.  However, I am telling you now.  If you ever mimic Celestia in front of me again, then one of us will not leave that place alive.”

Twilight hesitated and then the solicitousness dropped from her face.  There was still concern there, yes, but not the precise brand of compassion so characteristic of Celestia.  “She thought – I thought that it would help you.  Obviously not.  She is a part of me now and it is hard to separate out who I am from all the memories of other ponies.  I will try to not present her face to you.”

“Thank you.  That’s all I can ask.”  Luna forced a false but well intentioned smile to her face and placed a hoof on the smaller alicorn.  “I meant what I said about friendship.  We have eternity to spend with one another, and I’d hate to spend that fighting.”

Luna pretended not to see Celestia’s happiness flare in Twilight’s answering smile.  “I’d like that as well.  I wanted to have this talk with you before Canterlot, because I suspect it’s a very different city that waits for us.”

“How so?” Luna asked.  Before Twilight could answer a bell rang out, signaling their imminent arrival.

Grimacing, Twilight said, “Apparently we won’t have time after all.  Just be ready to accept change.  I’m going to go get the others ready to disembark.”

Ignoring Twilight’s ominous warning, Luna followed along behind.  “I’ll help too.”


***


A few minutes’ walk up along the train brought them back to their cluster of friends and the center of command for the train trip.  Twilight was already giving orders to pass along to the quiescent victims of Sombra.  Like an overturned beehive activity bustled out from their perch.  Luna allowed herself to be caught up in it to avoid dwelling on what they might find in Canterlot.

Barely five minutes later, the train screeched to a halt.  Ponies steadily walked through the sliding doors and out into the city with an eerie synchronicity, and none of the pushing or shoving that usually would mark the arrival of train to Equestria’s capital city.

Luna was one of the last to leave, lingering in obedience to misgivings she couldn’t name.  At last, she could find no further justification to delay.  She took her place in the line and made her way through the sliding train doors.  Scarcely had she passed through when she looked up and stopped dead, stunned by what she saw.

Once Celestia’s citadel had stood tall and proud over Canterlot.  Now, a crumbled ruin was all that remained.  A gap yawned in the heart of the city.  It was an aching void that left the city feeling as though a central piece had been torn from its heart.  Dimly, she felt Twilight come to stand beside her, but she couldn’t tear herself away from the destruction of her sister’s home.  It hurt to see.  As if she had come to Celestia’s resting place, only to find the tomb opened and the flowers of remembrance left scattered on the dusty floor.

“It was her demesne,” Twilight said quietly.  “I had hoped that by taking Celestia into myself it would have been preserved, but I guess not.”

A choked sob compelled Luna to look down.  Belatedly, the tears barely held back in Twilight’s mortal eye reminded her that the castle had been Twilight’s home, and that Celestia had been like a mother to her. 

Awkwardly, Luna draped a wing across Twilight’s back.  “You miss her too.  I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have spoken so harshly to you.”

Twilight shook her head, brushing the tear away.  “I understood.  Even with our long memories there are no precedent’s for what we’re going through now.  As you said, we have a long time to learn to get along, and I think we might need it.  Unfortunately, I don’t think we have the time to spend on that right now.”  She nodded to the station entrance where a dignified figure, flanked by soldiers in golden armor waited for them.  “We seem to have a welcoming committee.”

“Trouble Twilight?” Applejack asked, looking ready to square off.  Rainbow Dash said nothing but she slipped her ebonite gloves from her bag and began to put them on.  Seeing that, Gilda’s claws started making their way to her wingblades and armor as Thraxus stepped up to guard their backs.

“Not yet, I hope,” Luna answered.  “Stay here please, my friends, but be ready if we need you.”

“We’re always ready,” Spike answered firmly.

Buoyed by their friends behind them, the two alicorns made their way across the station to the waiting figures.

“Duke Fancypants,” Luna greeted.  “Thank you for coming to meet us here at the station.  I look forward to your full report on everything that has transpired in the past few months.”

“Luna.  Twilight, congratulations on your ascension.”  The lack of titles and the stony expression on Fancypants’ face were worrying.  A worry that was borne out immediately.  “You are not welcome in this city,” he said.

“Excuse me?  How are we to govern if not from the capital city?” Twilight asked incredulously. 

“You will not govern.  Equestria no longer recognizes your right to rule.”  At his words the soldiers to either side clanged their spears on the ground.  The clang sounded to Luna like the final crash at the closing of a casket.  A final pronouncement of doom.  Nevertheless, she felt the need to argue, suspecting all the while that it was futile.

“And I suppose you see yourself as the new ruler of Equestria?” She asked scornfully.  “We just finished deposing one tyrant, another will not be hard.”

For the first time an expression crossed Fancypants’ face, a faint hint of surprise.  “You don’t understand, do you?  Neither of you understand what you did in defeating Sombra.  And if you don’t understand then neither do they.”  He raised his voice and called to where their friends were waiting, weapons at the ready.  “Approach, all of you.  You should understand the new shape of the world.  Especially you, Shining Armor.”

Cautiously, they came forward.  Wary eyes watched for tricks in all directions and looked upon the gathered ponies with suspicion.  They had come too far to trust easily and it showed in their guarded postures.  Still, they came forward.  Even Pinkie, whose trembling had returned and who looked as if she dearly wished she could go to sleep, would not let her friends walk into danger without her.

“Why me?” Shining Armor asked.  “What is it so important that I understand?”

Fancypants ignored him, all his focus still on Luna and Twilight.  Behind the duke gathered the ponies Sombra had taken as hostages.

“Applebloom?  Granny Smith and Big Mac?  What’s going on?” Applejack asked.

Applebloom answered, speaking just as she had under Sombra’s control.  “You tried to save us, big sis, and you did.  Kind of.”

“Sure, you kicked Sombra right out of our heads.”  That was Scootaloo, chiming in without missing a beat.

“The thing is, when you used the mantle of the sun to get rid of him, you accidentally made those connections permanent.”  Sweetie Bell offered a sunny smile.  “It’s not so bad.  Only it’s been pretty hard dealing with all these ponies in our heads.  That’s why we were so quiet on the way home.  Sorry Rarity.”

“That’s quite alright dear,” Rarity reassured her sister.  “Does this mean you’re back to normal now?”

“There is no more normal.” Fancypants’ voice drew Luna’s attention back to him.  But he was quick to pass off the lead to other ponies.  “We are”

“all”

“connected”

“forever.”

“And”

“we”

“have”

“the”

“mantle”

“of”

“the”

“sun.”

“Enough!” Luna shouted, bringing the dizzying switching of speakers to a halt.  “You’ve made your point.  Speak from one pony.”

Applejack, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash were staring at the crusaders as if they had never seen them before.  Dash, predictably was the first to react.  She snapped forward, holding a hoof crackling with electricity underneath Fancypants face.  “Let them go. Now.”

“There’s nothing to let go!” Scootaloo called to her.  “I’m still your number one fan Rainbow Dash!”

Dash flew over to the little orange pegasus.  “Come on kid, you know this isn’t right.”

Scootaloo reached up and touched one hoof to Rainbow Dash’s cheek.  “There is no right or wrong in this.  It just is.”  She looked over to Twilight.  “Unless you have some way to undo all the connections?”

“Give me time,” Twilight pleaded.  “I didn’t have a chance to study it in depth.  Now that Sombra is gone I can give it the attention it deserves.”

“No.  We don’t trust you anymore.”  Fancypants spoke again, harshly.  It was intentional, Luna realized.  Fancypants had chosen to be the one to deliver the difficult words while the crusaders offered what kindness and amelioration they could.  It was too well orchestrated for ponies who had never met to have planned this out.  Only then did Luna truly begin to believe not only that the connection existed, but also that it could not be undone.

“I do not understand what I have done to earn my subjects distrust,” Luna said, speaking not as if to an individual, but as if she was speaking to every citizen at once.

“You collapsed a form of government that had been stable for centuries.  You left me, an eminently unqualified pony, in charge of Equestria while you went haring off after a minor rebellion.  You didn’t change strategies when that rebellion turned out to have at its heart a greater danger than believed.  You spent six months avoiding your duties for reasons no pony fully understands.”  Fancypants was breathing quickly and his words came faster and faster.  Luna could hear in him the anger of all the citizens who had felt abandoned when she left.  “You ignored increasingly panicked requests that you return to govern.  Finally, the process by which you defeated Sombra left all your citizens forever damaged by his actions.”

“That last was my fault, actually,” Twilight put in.  “I could think of nothing else that might defeat Sombra.  And rest assured, if I had not done so the situation would be much worse.”

“We understand that better than you can imagine considering we were all Sombra’s slaves,” Fancypants said.  “That is why you are being given the opportunity to quietly abdicate your throne.”  Luna hesitated and the crusaders came forward to cluster around her hooves.

“We have the mantle of the sun to give us power.”

“We have the minds of every pony to give us wisdom.”

“We have the connections between us all to ensure our benevolence.”

Three sets of adorable eyes beseeched Luna and the crusaders spoke in unison.

“Please, just let us go.  Let us rule ourselves.”

Unsure, Luna glanced over at Twilight.  They shared a look by which Luna understood that, as the younger alicorn, Twilight would follow her lead.

Luna looked across their friends.  She saw worry and confusion in all of their eyes, but there was no help to be had there. 

Luna looked back at Twilight, seeking another pony’s opinion.  Twilight understood the request.  She closed her mortal eye for a moment and when she opened it, Luna could see her own sister peeking through.  Celestia’s love for Equestria shone through, but so too did her need for control.  Luna could see Celestia’s unshakeable faith that she alone was what was best for Equestria.  It was an answer, and it helped Luna make her own decision.  She nodded once to Twilight and saw her sister recede from the other pony’s eyes.

“I am, manifestly, not my sister.” Luna said, to the confusion of all.  “I know that means nothing to most of you, but it is an important fact for me to remember, and one that I have paid too much to learn to forget now.”  She took a deep breath, sighed, and then faced Fancypants straight on.

“I, Princess Luna of Equestria, do hereby abdicate my throne to no pony and everypony.”

There was not cheering, though it felt like there should have been.  Instead, a great sigh swept across the city, a deep relieved breath.  Like a child that has given their all in challenging their parent and finally, through luck and cunning, achieved their hearts desire almost in spite of themselves.

It was done.  Oh Luna suspected there would be forms and procedures needed to satisfy dusty bureaucrats rising lugubriously from the depths of some forgotten archive.  But whatever they said and whatever Luna had to do later to make it official, she regarded that moment as the end of the Diarchy.

She should have been sad, Luna thought, and she was.  But only in a far off distant way.  It was sad to see the end of something her sister had held so dear.  For her own part, well, she had never really believed in the Diarchy.  She might have liked to preserve it as a legacy of her sister, but it also seemed fitting that it should pass from the world along with her.  Like an ancient king, Celestia sailed into the afterlife not only with her possessions, but with the ship of state itself.

Still, for all her equanimity in the face of the death of the state, Luna had no desire to watch the celebration of its end.  Without speaking, she turned to leave, not knowing exactly where she would go.

“Wait, please!” Fancypants called after her.  “We have offers for you and yours.”

Luna turned back out of curiosity, if nothing else.  “What could you possibly want to offer us now?”

“We’re all going home and it’s going to be normal!”  This from the crusaders, bursting with enthusiasm as they bustled forward, their twelve tiny hooves clip-clopping on the on the train station’s cobblestone.

“In light of the fundamental changes to the vast majority of its subjects, this country is going to change dramatically in the years to come.”  Fancypants clarified.  “We have agreed to set Ponyville aside from all that.  Everypony of us, the connected, who lives there will act as though the connection does not exist.  They will still talk to one another verbally and pretend to ignorance of one another’s inner lives.”

“My home,” Twilight whispered.

Fancypants inclined his head to her.  “Even so.  We are not angry with you, not truly.  We have simply been pushed in a new direction.  We must change, but we wish to maintain a place of peace for those that choose not to join us.”

“And if we want to leave Ponyville?” Rarity asked, her long abandoned fashion boutique clearly in mind.

“Then leave,” Fancypants responded in surprise.  “You’re not prisoners.  We just thought you’d be more comfortable in a place where ponies act as you expect them to.  Though if and when you do leave, you might find the world outside Ponyville to be different than you expect.”

“I just want to go home to my farm and my kin.  You comin’ with Applebloom, Big Mac, and Granny Smith?” 

Her family walked forward to nuzzle Applejack.  “Yer’ not gettin’ rid of us that easily,” Granny Smith said in her strident crackling voice.

“Eeyup,” added Big Mac.

“Sorry we couldn’t tell you before, big sis.  There was just so much going on in mah head and we all agreed it’d be best to tell you everything at once.”  The little filly hung her head and peeked up through her mane at Applejack.  “You’re not mad are you?”

Applejack tousled her little sister’s mane fondly.  “O’course not sugar cube.  If you’re coming home with me, then as far as I can see the world’s right as rain.”  She glanced up at Fancypants.  “I’m mighty thankful for you letting them come home.”

He shook his head.  “They chose this.  That’s the hallmark of our new world: everypony gets to choose.  Speaking of which, there is another choice you all can make.”

“What choice is that?” Luna asked.  Seeing Applejack smiling with her family had helped to ease Luna’s heart.  She felt better about what she had decided, though only time would tell if her decision had truly been correct.

“Ah, forgive me, this option is not for you two alicorns.  For the rest of you, however, if you wish to join us, to be truly connected to everypony else, we can do that for you.”  He smiled encouragingly.  “Nothing would make us happier to welcome another to our number.”

“No!” Pinkie shrieked.  She had watched the proceedings with silence characteristic of her new temperament, if not her old, but she could be silent no longer.  “It’s awful, having another pony in your head, watching you always, controlling your every thought and feeling.”  She shivered.  “Never never never never again.”

“We understand your reluctance Pinkie,” Fancypants said gently.  “Sombra possessed us too and it was awful beyond words.  This is different.  There is no control.  It’s like having a friend always nearby to buoy you up when you’re feeling down.”  They recoiled and expressions of horror crossed more than one face.  He sighed.  “I thought you might feel that way.  But before all of you refuse, Shining Armor, there is somepony you should meet.” 

Fancypants stood aside, revealing the entrance to the train station.  There, beneath the high golden arch and just inside the broad sets of glass doors stood a pink pegasus mare.  She was long-limbed, elegant, and she had a foal in a sling nestled against her chest.

“Cadance!” came Shining Armor’s desperate shout.  In that cry Luna heard all the sleepless nights, all the worry he’d buried while he fought to make Equestria safe for his wife and foal. 

It was the cry of a soldier coming home.

He moved, faster than even Rainbow Dash could have, it seemed, and then he was by her side.  Nuzzling, they sank to their knees.  Laughing, talking, crying, the words themselves didn’t matter as much as the feeling.  You’re home.  You’re safe.  You’re loved. 

We’re together.

In the mix of it all the foal woke up and added its delighted giggles to the mélange of joy surrounding the three of them.  Luna glanced at the ponies beside her and found not a dry eye nor an unsmiling face.  Fancypants was grinning unabashedly and the three crusaders were practically hopping with joy.  Luna could see in their faces the joy of the couple reflected and she understood the offer Fancypants had for Shining Armor.

It took a long time for the bubbling happiness to subside.  Each time one of the pair would attempt to calm down, the other would pull them closer and the laughing would start back up.  Finally, they both regained their hooves and, blushing faintly, turned to face their audience.

“I, uh, I apologize for my lack of decorum, princess,” Shining Armor offered, though he couldn’t stop smiling as he did so.

“It is quite alright,” Luna said magnanimously.  “And it seems I am no longer anypony’s princess.  Make your offer, Fancypants.  I think you will never have a better opportunity.”

“What offer?  Wait.”  Shining Armor slowly turned to his wife.  “Sombra didn’t…” he trailed off, unable to voice it.

“He did,” Cadance confirmed.  “As he told you, Sombra possessed me and, from the moment she was born, our foal.”

“She is the youngest of us,” Fancypants said into the stricken silence that followed.  “We don’t know what it will mean to be raised from birth connected to so many other ponies.  Whatever the case, she will have need of her father.”

“I don’t understand,” Shining Armor said, still reeling from revelations that he had suspected, but never faced head on.  “What is it you want from me?”

“Join me,” Cadance pleaded.  “Join us.  We all still know how to cast the spell to join a new pony to the connection.  I wanted you, Shiny, to be the first to join us without ever having been under Sombra’s sway.”

“I can’t,” he said, glancing at Luna uncertainly.  “I have responsibilities.”

“Your position as Captain of the Royal Guard was dissolved along with the Diarchy,” Luna said.  “If you need a pronouncement from me then you have it.  Captain Armor, you are hereby honorably discharged.  Thank you for your service.”

Stunned by the sudden loss of the position he’d spent his life trying to obtain Shining Armor stammered.  “But I don’t, I can’t.”

“Shining Armor, you said you joined the army to find you little sister,” Twilight said.  “You’ve succeeded.  I can’t wait to meet the rest of our birth family.  But right now the family of your choosing needs you.”

“I do not truly know if this is a good idea or not,” Luna said firmly, drawing his eyes back to her.  “However, I saw clearly the love you two bear for one another.  And I saw that love reflected in the eyes of the ponies gathered here who are among the connected.  I cannot believe anything ill can come from the sharing of a love so pure.”

“Well I’m convinced,” said Sim, startling everypony.  “I want to join the connection.  Not because I love his wife,” it added, perhaps unnecessarily.  “But I am interested in the connection itself.  I have been many different types of dragons, and this will allow me to expand my study to other races entirely.  Besides,” it continued with a significant glance to Twilight and Luna, “this will likely help on both of the personal projects I have mentioned to you.  I can’t fall too far behind Twilight after all.”

Fancypants nodded slowly.  “We would be pleased to have you join us,” he said at last.  “However, we have agreed to respect Cadance’s wish that Shining Armor be the first to join us, if he wants to.”

“That’s fine,” Sim agreed easily.  “I am in no hurry.  What say you, former-Captain Shining Armor?”

Shining Armor still hesitated.  He looked at Luna, whom he had served, Twilight, whom he had sought, and Cadance, whom he had married.  Then he looked down at his foal, nestled safely in the sling against his wife’s chest.

Luna had never had foals, so she could not say she completely understood the emotions roiling in Shining Armor at that moment.  She had, however, seen quite a lot of parents, and she was not surprised in the least when he made his decision.

“I’ll do it,” he said quietly.  Then, he looked up and spoke more confidently, “I want to be with my wife.”

Fancypants clapped his hooves.  “Excellent!  We’re so glad to have you.  Now if you could stand just a little apart from the others, please.”

“We’re doing it now?”  Shining Armor asked.  “I thought I’d have time to prepare, or say my goodbyes or something.”

Cadance laughed again, light and sweet.  “It’s not as if you’re dying, Shiny.  You’ll still be you, just a little more in touch with everypony else.”

“Um, right.”  He gave one last look to his wife and then trotted slightly away.  “Is this sufficient?”

“Perfect,” Fancypants said. 

Without verbal direction, the other connected ponies took up positions surrounding Shining Armor in a circle.  Cadance faced him head-on while Fancypants was directly behind him.  A glow sprung up around Fancypants’ horn and it spread to encompass the other ponies.  For pegasi the glow was concentrated around their wings, and for earth ponies it was around their hooves.

Not wanting to miss any part of the magic, Luna activated her mage sight, and she could tell by the sudden flare of the ember glowing in Twilight’s empty eye socket that she had done so as well.

To Luna’s eyes the connected ponies glowed with a warm amber light, the color of lazy summer afternoons.  Where it fell ponies stood straighter, and their eyes were washed clean of the weight of any lingering burdens.  The depth of its brightness embedded it in the fabric of the world.  Luna had been afraid that she’d see some violence in it, reminiscent of the force Sombra had applied or the cruel beams of light on which he had hung.  Neither were present.

Instead, the amber light ebbed and flowed in the circle of ponies around Shining Armor.  Like waves in a storm it steadily built in intensity until at last it crested over.  From Cadance that warm wave flowed down to embrace Shining Armor.

His face registered surprise when the wave first touched his chest, just over the heart.  He met his wife’s eyes and relaxed into an easy smile.  He closed his eyes and the amber light of the sun enveloped him completely. 

There was a great flash of light, visible and blinding to everypony, as Shining Armor was annealed in the mantle of the sun. 

Luna blinked rapidly, trying to clear the sunspots away from her vision.  She could just make out the form of Shining Armor.  He was kneeling in the center of the circle of ponies.  Before she could react though, he surged to his hooves.

In tones of sheerest wonder he said, “I can feel Equestria.”  Then his eyes focused and he looked down at his foal, cradled before his wife.  “And I can feel my daughter.”  He stepped forward to hold them both, leaving no pony watching to wonder which feeling he considered the greater joy.
> Epilogue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Princess Celestia,

Yes, I know how ridiculous it is to still be writing these to you.  I can hear you chuckling at me even now.  Don’t worry, this will be the last one.  I’ve learned a lot though, recently, about friendship and other things, and I wouldn’t have felt right if I didn’t send you this one last letter to tell you what I’ve learned.

 I’ve learned that there is more to being in charge than simply being clever, and that, no matter what you do, you’ll make mistakes you can’t take back.

I’ve learned that even the ponies we revere can make mistakes and prove to be all too mortal at the worst possible times.

Perhaps most importantly I’ve learned that you can be terribly hurt by somepony and still, despite everything, love and be loved by them. And that that love alone isn’t enough to set things right.

You are gone and not.  The crystal ponies are gone and not.  I seem to have become a living sepulcher of sorts.  Or perhaps a living memorial would be a better phrase.  It will be the work of lifetimes to sort through all the memories I possess.  Fortunately, I now have those lifetimes.  I am looking forward to using my new knowledge to make great contributions to the fields of history and archaeology, among others.

The Diarchy is gone.  The work of your long life, which you nearly killed me for, and Luna swept it aside with a single phrase.  It was appropriate though.  We could never have ruled over what our little ponies are in the process of becoming. I hope you could have been made to see that and aren’t too disappointed in us.

I guess the lesson I’ve really learned, trivial as it is, is this: the world can change dramatically and life still goes on, so long as the great world devouring evil is defeated at least.

Rest assured, Luna and I will be there for the evils that threaten the world.  As for the rest?  I think we’ll learn to let it be.

Your Faithful Student,

Twilight


***


Twilight was just putting the finishing flourish on her final letter when Spike called up to her from the library reading room, which doubled as a living room.  “Twilight!  We’ve got guests!”

“Coming, Spike!” Twilight called back.  She replaced her quill in its slot and carefully rolled up her letter.  Another flick of magic brought a ribbon slithering through the air to tie itself in a neat bow around the letters center.  A pool of wax drifted over and Twilight pressed her design, a setting sun of course, into the wax before cooling it.

With the letter held tightly in her magic, Twilight rose from her desk.  She cast a critical eye across her study, straightening a book here or there, and realigning a collection of rulers settled on one table. It was hard to keep everything neat and tidy with only a single eye.  Sure, she could use the other to view the mystic energies of the world, but it turned out that that was pretty useless for straightening a room. As a last touch, she placed the letter on the center of her desk with the seal facing up.  She'd get Spike to mail it later.  Nodding in satisfaction at the rest of the room, Twilight turned and made her way through the door and down the stairs.

She found Spike offering up tea and biscuits to Rainbow Dash, Gilda, Thraxus, and Scootaloo. “Thanks for taking care of them while I finished up, Spike,” Twilight said. 

“No problem.  They were just telling me about the route they plan to take.”  Spike made one more circuit with the biscuit tray before setting it on a table and taking a seat next to Twilight.

With a sinking feeling Twilight asked, “Your minds made up then?”

Dash nodded.  “I can’t stay here.  Too many memories.”  She looked away, and Twilight knew that she was looking out the window through the town to the achingly empty cottage by the woods.  “They still gather there; did you know that?  The animals, I mean.  She’s gone, but they still remember her.  I want to make sure other ponies remember her too.”

Twilight’s eyes drifted down to the turquoise and morganite broach in the shape of a butterfly that was pinned to Dash’s chest.  Then she looked over to the others, who wore their own broaches.  “And you three are sure you want to go with her?”

Gilda scratched the back of her head.  “I said some things I regret in a letter to Warlord Aquila after I thought he ordered me abandoned.  Figure I should set that right.  Plus, he should know about the connected griffons who are making their home here. Dash says that we can head west to Griffonstone for our first stop.”

“I have not been to Griffonstone in some time,” Thraxus said.  “And I have not yet tired of these two.  There is still more I have to learn from them, and from their stories of Fluttershy.”

Glida slapped the red dragon on the back.  “We like you too, you old softy.”

“What about you, Scootaloo?” Twilight asked.  “Won’t you miss the other crusaders?”

“Nope!” Scootaloo said cheerfully.  “They’re always with me.  If we get in trouble I can send a message to you through them.  And Gilda and Dash say they’re going to teach me how to fly!”

Twilight eyed Scootaloo’s stunted wings and raised an eyebrow at Dash, who shrugged.  “She might never win races, but with a good enough feel for pegasus magic she’ll get in the air.”  Dash offered a small smile to Scootaloo who returned it unabashedly. “Besides, if her lame wings think they’re going to hold her down, they can just forget about it.”

“Yeah! Who needs you wings?” Scootaloo said, enthusiastically buzzing her wings.

Gilda chuckled and put a claw on Scootaloo’s head.  “Easy there, squirt.  Plenty of time for that when we’re on the road.”

Twilight smiled along with them.  “When are you leaving?”

“Right now,” Gilda said, pointing to the saddlebags they’d left by the door.  “We’ve said our goodbyes to everypony else.  Dash wanted to leave you for last.”

“Can we talk in private, Twilight?” Dash blurted out.  As Twilight looked over, the blue pegasus fidgeted in place, reminding Twilight of the old Rainbow Dash who could never sit still.  This was a new Dash though, as evinced by the fact that she had all four hooves firmly planted on the ground.

“Alright, Dash. Follow me.”  Twilight led the two of them into a smaller side room, meant for studying back when Golden Oaks was merely a library and not also a home. They settled on opposite sides of a study wooden table.  

“So, what is it you wanted to say?” Twilight asked.

Rainbow Dash wouldn’t look at her.  She stared at the wall instead, apparently finding the grains of the tree’s wood fascinating, despite the vast number of times she had visited previously. Twilight was tempted to press the other pony, but she had learned the value of patience and she let Dash come to what she wanted to say in her own time.

Finally, after perhaps five minutes of perusing the walls, Dash chanced a glance at her.  “I said some things,” Dash mumbled.

“You’ve said a lot of things, Dash.  You’re going to have to be clearer.”

Dash’s voice rose slightly, becoming a little less Fluttershyesque.  “In the Crystal Empire.  At…at her funeral.  I said that I would kill griffons and dragons and Sombra, and then settle with you when it was all over.”

“Is that what you want? To ‘settle’ with me before you leave on your trip?

“No!”  Dash’s head snapped up.  “I was angry then.  You know how I rush into things without thinking them through.  I fought Sombra and the griffons, but I didn’t end up destroying all of them like I said.  And you were the one to finish Sombra in the end.”

“So what are you trying to do here, exactly?” Twilight asked, honestly perplexed.

“I’m trying to…trying to…” she trailed off.  Then she whispered to herself, “for you Fluttershy.”  The little whisper seemed to give her strength.  Rainbow Dash looked Twilight dead in the eye.  “I’m trying to apologize.”

Twilight tried to wave it away.  “You don’t need to apologize.  We’re friends after all.”

“No, I do,” Rainbow Dash insisted.  “Her death was hard on all of us.  You didn’t need me there blaming you for it.  Not when you were blaming yourself so harshly.” She looked away and said in a softer voice.  “Spike told me, when I came around one of the other times I was trying to apologize. He told me that you almost didn’t want to make it back from the Crystal Empire.”

“Well like you said, none of us were in a good place then.  It’s understandable.”

“It isn’t!” Dash slapped a hoof on the table with a vicious crack.  “I’m your friend.  I was the Element of Loyalty.  I should have known better than to turn my back on my friends when they were hurting, no matter how much pain I was in.”  

Twilight was startled to see tears in the other pony’s eyes.  She leaned across the table and folded Rainbow Dash in a tight hug.  “Oh, Dash.  We’re not perfect, none of us, as this all has made terribly clear.  If you can forgive me for the part I played in Fluttershy’s death, then of course I can forgive you for what you said.”

Dash squirmed in Twilight’s hug before settling and hugging her back.  “Thanks Twilight.”  They broke apart and Dash coughed bashfully.  “And, uh, if you could not mention the hug to anypony, that would be great.  I do have a reputation to maintain.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Twilight said playfully.  “I think Gilda and Scootaloo need to know their traveling companion is quite the cuddle-bug, don’t you?  And Thraxus will want to be alert for surprise hugs as well.”  She made as if to leave the room and go tell them.

“No no no no no,” Dash spluttered, racing to get ahead of Twilight and hold the door shut.  “No telling them!”

Twilight laughed and, after a moment, Rainbow Dash joined her.  When the laughter had faded to an occasional chuckle, Rainbow Dash held out a hoof to Twilight.  “So, we cool?”

“We’re cool, Dash,” Twilight replied, returning the hoof bump.

A weight seemed to lift off Dash.  Literally, as she immediately took to the air, hovering like she always used to. “Great!  Now that that’s taken care of, let’s get this show on the road.” Before Twilight could blink, Dash had the door open and had already rushed out.

Shaking her head in bemusement at her friend’s speed, Twilight followed her back into the living room.  Gilda was regaling Scootaloo and Spike with a Griffon tale of daring adventure, and from the wide eyes and grins the two were eating it up.  Even Thraxus was nodding along with the story.

“And so then he swished his tail in three sharp lines and summoned up a whirlwind.  He-“

“No time!” Dash broke in. “We’re leaving now while there’s still daylight left.”

“Awww,” Scootaloo and Spike chorused.  

“Can’t we hear the end?” Scootaloo pleaded.

Gilda had already moved over to the bags and was slinging hers onto her back.  “Don’t worry, I’ll tell you the rest on the road.”

“What about me?” Spike asked.  “I’d like to hear the end too.”

Gilda hummed to herself. “Can’t help you there, Spike.”

“That was the story of Ink-Tail and the Sun Goddess, right?” Twilight asked.

Gilda nodded.  “Yes, have you heard of it?”

Twilight smiled to herself. “You could say that.”

“Don’t worry Spike,” Scootaloo chimed in.  “Sim says that Iolite should know that story.  Why don’t you ask her next time you see her?”

Spike smiled.  “Thanks Scootaloo, and tell Sim thanks too.  I’ll do just that.  I know it’s silly, but I wouldn’t be Twilight’s brother if I didn’t hate leaving stories unfinished.”

“I am the last pony who would criticize anypony, or anydrake, for wanting to know how a story ends,” Twilight agreed.

While they had spoken, Thraxus, Rainbow Dash had donned their saddlebags as well.  Scootaloo raced to grab her own small pack, and once it was settled on her back the four travelers stood ready to depart.  

Twilight opened the door for them.  “May the sun shine warm upon your face and the wind rise up to meet your wings,” she said, in blessing and farewell.

The four travelers nodded their thanks and passed through, turning to offer one last goodbye before taking to the air, with Scootaloo carried on Dash's back.  Twilight watched until they were little more than distant dark specks against the blue of the sky and the brightness of the afternoon light.

“They’re missionaries, you realize,” a voice said from behind the door.  Shutting it, Twilight found Luna standing at the window, watching the travelers depart.  “Ponies will hear what they have to say and make pilgrimages to the Butterfly Aegis in the north.  It might become a cult or a full-fledged religion, but they’re going to try and spread the good word of Fluttershy.”

“I know,” Twilight said. “I remember seeing off other travelers with the same look in their eyes and an icon in their hooves.”

Luna shot her an assessing look.  “Yes, I suppose you would.  I keep forgetting.  It’s a hard thing to hold in my mind for some reason.”

“It’s understandable. I’m sure my memories remind you of things you’d rather forget.”

“They do,” Luna agreed, “but that doesn’t mean I should permit myself to look away.  I have been thinking,” she added, apropos of nothing, “that I should move out and look for my own place to live.  They say, after all, that fish and guests both begin to stink after three days, and I have been here for far longer than that.”

“You don’t stink,” Twilight answered reflexively before cringing.  Beside her Spike chuckled at her awkward choice of words.  “I mean that it has been nice having you here. Having the two of us in one place was useful in acclimating soldiers from the army as your moon-blessed manage to send them home from their slumber in the Dreaming.

“True.  Though I think personal attention and sharing a dwelling with two alicorns has been a bit overwhelming for some of them.”  Luna laughed.  “Remember that one pegasus who took forever to be convinced that he was actually no longer asleep?  He kept looking at us and asking where his birthday cake was.”

Twilight laughed along with Luna, but Spike just rolled his eyes and grumbled, “you laugh, but I’m the one who ended up making him a cake just so he’d shut up about it.”

“And we appreciate that,” Twilight replied.  She also appreciated the fact that the inches she’d gained since her ascension let her once more reach the top of Spike’s head to rustle his head spines.  

He shook her off with a long suffering sigh.  “I’ll go get some more tea for you two.”

“Thanks Spike,” Twilight said, sitting back down at the room’s central wooden table.  “So you were saying you might want to move out Luna?”

Luna had followed suit and was resting comfortably across the table from Twilight.  “I was considering it.  Few soldiers remain to ease into all the changes in Equestrian society of late.  In any case, while it helped having two of us, I don’t think it was strictly necessary.”

Twilight nodded in agreement.  “Most of them didn’t stay for more than a day or two before joining the connected or finding a place in town.  We were really only necessary to get them to take the whole connected thing seriously.”

“Right.  Thank you Spike,” Luna added as he brought in a tea pot and poured them both a generous cupful.  “And the moon-blessed are well on their way to exploring the Dreaming. They don’t need me anymore. Truthfully, I was only needed to teach them the trick to returning to the real world.  Everything else was just a bonus.  I suspect that, given her provenance, Sunlit Rooms shall prove a most capable leader.  With Barrel and Pinkie Pie’s help they will soon know more of that realm than I ever did.”

“All true, but I don’t see how this ties into you wanting to move out.”  Twilight took a sip of tea and shot a grateful look over to Spike. “Thanks Spike, this is excellent. I particularly appreciate the faint ruby undertones.”

Spike grinned and held up a claw dramatically.  “Behold! Gem-cuisine’s first pony convert.  Soon all of Equestria will follow in my footsteps.”

“Not rubies!” Luna gasped in faux-horror.  “My one weakness.  Clearly I must move out to avoid being slowly poisoned by this fiend.”

The three shared a laugh. “Alright, alright, I’ll leave the rubies out of yours in the future, Luna,” Spike said.  “Do either of you want anything else?  Because if not I’ve got a book I’d like to finish.”

“I think we’re set Spike. I hope your book’s ending is a good one.”

“It will be,” he called back as he departed.  “The princess and the Archmage elope together and live happily ever after.”

There was a moment of silence as Twilight and Luna processed what he had said.

“Is this where you confess your secret undying love for me?” Luna asked, deadpan.

“I mean, I have all of Celestia’s memories, so I think it’s fair to say I love you like a sister, and we’re both immortal so technically…” Twilight trailed off as they both shared a chuckle.  “Seriously though, Luna, you’ve been avoiding answering the question.  Why do you want to move out?”

Luna shifted uncomfortably. “I’ve been feeling at loose ends lately,” she admitted.  “The moon-blessed and the connected handle the sun and moon.  I’m not involved with the government anymore.  And there aren’t any evil kings to fight.”

“And you think moving out might help you find something to focus on?” Twilight asked.

“Maybe?” Luna shrugged, frustrated.  “I’m not sure.  I spent so long thinking I wanted to be Celestia.  Now that I’ve realized I don’t want to be her, I’m not sure who I should be.”

“Would you ever want to join the connected?” Twilight asked.

“I thought we were forbidden from joining them?” Luna responded, making a face at the rubies in her tea.

Twilight shook her head. “I spoke to Fancypants about that a while back and he clarified something.  They were afraid that the addition of a mind containing as many memories as ours do would unbalance the network and end up giving us control of the whole thing in the same way as Sombra.  I plan to study it more, but I’m fairly certain it wouldn’t work that way, and Fancypants said that if I can prove it then we are welcome to join as well.”

Luna hummed thoughtfully. “Well that’s something to consider at least, though I’m not sure it’s right for me.  What about you?  How are you going to be spending the first few decades of your newly immortal life?”

“If Spike were here I’d pull out my itemized checklist of life goals, but I think I’ll spare you that,” Twilight said, sipping her tea.

“Thanks,” Luna responded drily.

“Other than the connection research, I’m going to be spending the next while on these memories. I want to make sure I’ve fully absorbed and understand everything that my mind now contains.  I’ll be writing a few treatises on that.  Psychology, history, magic, anthropology, and any other pieces of knowledge I discover that aren’t already known.”

Luna smiled slightly. “It sounds like you have quite a bit to work on.  I was never that skilled at the sciences or social sciences, but now that I think on it I would like to spend some time on the arts.  It’d be a shame if the anthem of a short-lived and now defunct government was my last work, even if the moon-blessed are keeping that particular piece of music alive.”

“That’s not a bad idea. An alicorn of science and an alicorn of art.  We’d make a good pair.”  A sad expression crossed Twilight’s face.  “Or I suppose that’s how it could have been.”  With an effort of will she pushed it away.  “Anyway, after all that I’m going to learn everything I can about how to be a teacher.”

“A teacher? You?”  Luna cast an assessing eye over Twilight from the rim of her teacup, having apparently decided to tolerate the rubies.  “Hmm, I could see it.”

“You know, you might want to consider learning something about teaching as well,” Twilight said casually.

“Me?  That could be interesting, but I’m not sure exactly what I would teach.  As I said, I was always a bit iffy on the sciences and, unfortunately, my history is still about a thousand years out of date.”  Luna looked away, considering.

Twilight put her cup down and fixed Luna with a serious look.  “I thought you’d figured it out, Luna.  Trust me, you’re going to want to know how to teach.”

Luna looked back at the other alicorn.  “Figured what out?  What are you talking about?”

“Luna, what does it take to turn an ordinary pony into an alicorn?”  Twilight’s nerves were showing now and she was drumming one hoof rapidly on the table.

“It just takes an ability to use the magic of the natural world directly, without it having been processed and tuned to your own type,” Luna answered, still perplexed.

“And how does a pony gain the ability to use natural magic?”

Luna frowned. “Usually, they’d need to completely understand how another few ponies use their own magic.  That would allow them to triangulate how it would feel to use natural magic alone.”

Twilight nodded. “Celestia described it to me in very nearly the same terms.  Now, hasn’t there recently been a dramatic increase in the number of ponies that have an opportunity to feel how other ponies use magic?”

Luna’s eyes grew very wide. “No, that can’t be right. That would mean- but that’s impossible.”

“I could be wrong,” Twilight admitted.  “But I don’t think so.  I think that sometime soon the connected are going to start ascending.  Maybe not the ponies that were adults when they were connected.  They already were fairly fixed in how they used magic.  But the foals?  Hay, I’m half surprised Shining Armor’s foal wasn’t born ascended.”

Luna was frozen, dumbstruck and utterly unmindful of the tea dripping onto her leg from her spilled teacup. “They could all ascend,” she whispered.  “An entire race of immortals.  I can’t even begin to imagine what that might mean.”

“And just who,” Twilight continued, “do you think they will come to when fillies and colts start to turn into alicorns.”

Luna gulped.  “You were right.  I’d better learn how to be a teacher.”

“Exactly,” Twilight said with a satisfied smile, pleased that she’d passed her worry on to somepony else.

Luna winced as another thought struck her.  “Do the other immortals know that this is going to be happening?”

“I don’t know,” Twilight said.  “At the latest, they’ll figure it out when foals start popping up with wings and horns.”

“They’re not going to be happy.”

“No, they’re not.” Twilgiht’s determination was very nearly palpable.  “We need to be ready to protect the fledgling alicorns when they first emerge, or the other immortals might try to eliminate them and nip this whole thing in the bud.”

“That’s- that’s quite a collection of tasks you’ve set for yourself,” Luna said weakly.

“So, still feel like there’s not enough to occupy your time?” Twilight asked cheekily.

Luna let her head rest on the table.  “Remind me to never again complain to you about not knowing what to do with my life.”

Twilight leaned forward and patted her shoulder.  “There there, it’s going to be fun.  Just think of everything we can do with an entire race of alicorns!”

Luna looked up, her eyes shining as brightly as the stars her now-blue mane once had.  “We’re going to be busy for the foreseeable future, aren’t we?”

“Yes, Luna, I expect we will.”