The River Rose

by Stosyl

First published 22nd of July, 2012

A mysterious stallion adept in an ancient form of magic shows up in Ponyville.

A mysterious stallion adept in an ancient form of magic shows up in Ponyville, bringing his dark past with him. As the mysteries around this secretive pony unravel, an old enemy comes forward looking for revenge. The stallion must choose between hiding from his past and resolving it—between secrecy and redemption.

[Rated Teen for themes of violence, and very mild language.]

I. Emerald Alembic

The sun was just starting to peek through the clouds after a refreshing rain shower, sending bolts of broken sunlight over Ponyville, through the leaves of maple trees and onto well-traveled wooded paths, where solitary ponies walked or trotted in that daze that overcomes us when we have nothing but our thoughts to keep us company.

By an isolated pond where a little maple grove bordered the Everfree Forest, a youthful unicorn stallion sat reading. He eased away the barrier spell that had kept him dry, and eagerly turned the pages with his nose. A strong wind blew the hood of his traveling cloak over his eyes, so that in replacing it he lifted his head and noticed that the sun was above the tree line of the Forest.

Without a second’s delay he placed the book in his saddlebag, and was off at a trot toward Ponyville.

By now the clouds had cleared; half a dozen pegasi were darting through the sky to wrap up their work. Some headed to a luncheon in town, while others gained altitude toward Cloudsdale.

Earth ponies were opening their stalls, or muddied their hooves pulling carts of cabbages and apples, baskets of daylilies that smelled deliciously of morning dew, yellow tulips with a scent like a Canterlot candy shop, and specially-bred sandwich daisies that forever bore the same nostalgic redolence of family picnics on the hills of a childhood home.

The bright-eyed stallion took all this in with delight. It was his first time in Ponyville, and he took pleasure in the way towns differed from one another. This town had a special feeling to it, a lightness of heart that he hadn’t felt since he was a foal, at which time in one’s life even the darkest and hardest of experiences seem navigable and auspicious. He knew that this lightness was no accident: it was part of the heritage of the town that guarded the Elements.

The stallion’s gaze was all around him, and he saw how neatly groomed the local ponies were. They were not stylishly dressed: they wore no fancy dresses, only a ribbon or a necklace here and there, but for a pony who had been on the road so long, it caused him to feel self-conscious. His neglected, emerald-green coat was growing matted, and his yellow mane, so long unwashed, stood almost stiff under his hood, it had been so long since he had seen a town.

He walked entirely absorbed in the condition of his coat, and did not see the pony fast approaching until they had already collided.

“I’m so sorry!” he said immediately, before he even saw whom he had hit.

On the ground before him was a purple-coated mare. Her hoof splashed through a muddy puddle she had narrowly escaped. She shook herself off, and saw her book in the mud soaking up the dirty water.

“My book!” she cried.

The stallion apologized repeatedly.

“It’s fine,” the mare said kindly.

He had not noticed that she was a unicorn until she extracted the book from the puddle with magic.

“Let me take care of that for you,” the stallion offered.

“Don’t worry about it,” the mare replied, trying to hide her skepticism.

“I insist,” he said.

He pulled his hood down and bared a majestic horn, pointed with maturation, regal in all its aspects but that it was tangled in a hermit’s mane. The mare released the book to him, and as his horn began to glow and flash, the mud faded away from the book and the pages became as crisp as if they were off the press that morning. When the last few spots of filth were removed, he offered the book to the mare, visibly tired by the spell.

“I hope you’ll forgive me,” the stallion said through a slightly heavy breath.

The purple mare flipped through the book to get back to her page, and started.

“What’s wrong?” said the traveler.

“I could have sworn I ripped one of these pages this morning,” she said airily. “It must have been my imagination.”

The stranger smiled.

“Anyway, thank you,” said the mare. “I’m Twilight Sparkle.”

He pretended not to recognize the name.

“Emerald Alembic,” the stallion returned.

“I feel as if I’ve heard that name before,” said Twilight.

“I’m quite a traveler,” said Emerald. “It’s possible I’ve met somepony you know. Nomads have a habit of causing rumors in the towns they pass through.”

“Are you just passing through then?”

“I was looking for a bathhouse to clean up. By the look of the ponies in this town there must be a good one.”

“Well, we do have a spa,” Twilight offered. “It’s just across the river. I can take you to it if you like.”

“That would be very generous of you.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Twilight smiled.

Together they crossed the bridge into the center of Ponyville, circumvented the large Town Hall building and arrived at the spa.

“Thank you for your trouble,” said Emerald as they parted. “I’ve never been to Ponyville before, so it’s nice to have a guide.”

“If you need to find anything else, I run Ponyville’s library,” said Twilight.

“Odds are I’ll end up seeing you again just for the books,” Emerald smiled.

He said several more ‘thank-you’s and went into the spa, where he asked for a private bath and plenty of soapstone.

II. Alchemy

Emerald Alembic walked out of the spa as clean and well-groomed as a prince, his mane more golden than yellow in the sun. Yet he wore his battered travel cloak with an almost jealous care.

During his bath he had time to organize his thoughts better than he could on the road: long walks reveal a treasure trove of thoughts, but only water clears the mind enough to organize them. He imagined all he had to do during his time in Ponyville, and his first step was to make himself a friend of the Princess’s best-prized pupil.

He determined that he would visit her immediately on some pretense of research, to strengthen their familiarity. He asked a tousle-maned stallion for directions and headed for the library.

Emerald knocked on the Dutch door painted with a candle. He smiled to himself at this symbol of illumination. He heard a voice call out to come in, so he pushed the door open and entered to see a well-stacked, albeit small library.

He was very surprised to find a baby dragon on a tall ladder reshelving books, but he was well enough acquainted with dragons to get over this surprise quickly.

“I’m looking for a book on Star Swirl the Bearded,” Emerald called up.

“Star Swirl?” the dragon said, scratching his head. “I don’t know where any Star Swirl books would be. Try ‘S’.”

A groan erupted from an upstairs room.

“Spike!” Twilight’s voice reared.

She appeared at the balcony still balancing an open book with her magic. The dragon’s face evinced terrible apprehension, like any foal faces when he knows he will have to lie momentarily.

“I can’t believe you still haven’t read that book I gave you.”

“I was gonna,” Spike pleaded, “but…I lost it.”

Twilight rolled her eyes and briskly trotted down the stairs to meet Emerald.

“Are you looking for history,” she asked, “or spells?”

“Spells would be best,” said Emerald. “You wouldn’t happen to have any originals, would you?”

“Originals?”

“Untranslated.”

“Well, I do have a few,” Twilight began, “but the Latin is very complex. Not to mention the ciphers…”

“Which originals do you have?”

“I have two untranslated texts of Star Swirl the Bearded’s spells. One of them is mostly research, and honestly it focuses on the amniomorphic spell ad nauseum.”

“I’m not interested in amniomorphism,” Emerald said politely. “I’ve already studied that. What’s the other book?”

“Oh, okay. The other one is divided into three sections. The first is Ward spells he was commissioned to create for the Royal Guard; the second section is Construction spells; and the final section is potions.”

“Do you remember any specific potions listed in that book?”

“I can have Spike check for you,” Twilight smiled. “Spike! Check the potions in the book labeled S-S199.”

Spike sulked down from the ladder and went about searching for the book.

“Do you perhaps have anything on alchemy?” Emerald asked.

Twilight furrowed her brow ever so slightly and hesitated, so Emerald added:

“Star Swirl the Bearded discovered alchemy. The rearrangement of the elements? Is there nothing on that in this library?”

“Erm,” Twilight returned, “I don’t remember that from my studies.”

Emerald sighed.

Spike came over with the requested book, and flipped through the pages, scratching his head.

“I can’t read this,” he said.

Twilight groaned.

“Give me that.”

She yanked the book from Spike’s claws and turned the pages swiftly, calling out one after another:

“Stomach ache, virus, headache, broken limb, forgetfulness, truth, soothing…”

“It’s worth a look, thank you,” said Emerald, taking the book from Twilight.

There was a moment of silence when Spike went back to reshelving.

“You look much cleaner,” was all Twilight could think to say. She smiled awkwardly and added, “I mean you’re very handsomely groomed now. It must be nice to wash up after a long journey.”

“It is,” said Emerald in his gentlest voice.

The door creaked as someone entered the library.

“Oh, I hope I’m not interrupting,” the visitor said.

“Not at all, Rarity,” said Twilight. “I’m just finding some books for our guest here. He’s only in Ponyville for a little while. Emerald, this is Rarity. She’s a very talented dressmaker here in Ponyville.”

“Oh, do go on!”

“Emerald Alembic,” the stallion said with a deep bow.

“Charmed, of course,” said Rarity. “Oh, but look at what you’re wearing! So old and torn! I simply must make you something more befitting.”

“Thank you,” smiled Emerald, “but I haven’t worn a dress in many years.”

Spike snorted with laughter across the room.

“No no no,” said Rarity, “of course it would be something masculine. Perhaps a new cloak just like yours, or one more dashing. What do you say?”

“I say I can’t pass up a good offer,” Emerald hesitated, “but I’m afraid I’d find it difficult to pay you.”

“Nonsense! A friend of Twilight Sparkle is a friend of mine, and I wouldn’t dream of making my friends pay. I’ll see you for measurements today then?”

Emerald quickly realized that he couldn’t argue with this kind of mare. He nodded that he would allow himself to be fitted, but looked apprehensively at his cloak.

“Wonderful. Two this afternoon, then. Don’t be late!”

“Not for the world,” Emerald said. “But for now I have to be going. I’ll return this book quickly,” he added to Twilight, and he rushed out the door. He had a lot of preparations to complete, and did not want to be delayed from them too long. At least, he thought to himself, I’ve secured a place for myself in her circle of friends.

“He seems very nice,” said Rarity once he was gone. “He almost looks like a prince, or a member of the Royal Guard.”

She gasped.

“Does he know Shining Armor? Is that how you met?”

“It’s nothing like that,” said Twilight. “I have no idea who he is, he’s just traveling.”

“I wish I’d known that before I promised him a free outfit,” Rarity mumbled.

Twilight laughed softly.

“But he might be very influential, dear,” Rarity continued. “It could be good for us—I mean, for you—to be his friend.”

“Of course,” Twilight humored her.

“Oh, I almost forgot. I came to give you this.”

Rarity showed Twilight a bright pink card.

“‘You’re Invited’?” she read aloud.

“The Cakes’ anniversary is in two days,” Rarity explained. “It’s going to be marvelous! A picnic in the park, and fireworks. Pinkie has asked Applejack to do most of the baking so the treats will be a surprise.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” said Twilight.

“Yeah, is there anything we can do?” Spike parroted.

“I’m so glad you asked!” said Rarity. “If you could be a dear and hand out the rest of these invitations, I would be much obliged.”

She dumped several dozen envelopes onto the floor with a careless speed that said she had always planned for this to be their fate.

“Er, sure,” said Twilight. “We can do that.”

“Thank you, Twilight. Now I have to go find a foalsitter for Sweetie Belle so I can have some peace and quiet while working with our friend Emerald Alembic.”

Rarity left without another word.

“Spike,” said Twilight once she had left, “take a letter to the Princess.”

III. Emerald's Secret

Emerald became engrossed in the book he had borrowed from Twilight Sparkle as he walked through the streets of Ponyville. He especially studied the section on Mood and Management potions. He mused that while most of the recipes seemed like they would work, there were some inaccuracies and omissions that made them far less potent. He knew how to augment them, but it seemed to him very irresponsible of a publisher to be so negligent.

He felt a tremor in the air, such as one feels when the pressure waves of music reach farther than the sound itself, and looked around for its cause. Finding none, he returned to his book.

Suddenly the earth shook violently, rhythmically. Emerald searched, and up on a distant hill was a massive creature marching toward Ponyville. Instinctively he ran toward the monster, unsure of what he was facing. He teleported to a safe lookout position atop a bakery and calmed himself down so he could assess the situation.

“Its footsteps would have been felt a lot sooner if it had been walking before now,” Emerald said to himself. “Either it was sleeping, or….”

In the corner of his eye he spotted, fifty meters away from the creature, a sight which surprised him greatly: the Princess of the Day, Celestia, was approaching the beast in a royal procession of guards.

He did not know whether to shake his head or smile with triumph. Indeed, he did both inwardly. He teleported closer to get a better look at the creature, and crept forward slowly to avoid being noticed. The monster was serpentine, with a body like a wingless dragon, and two heads.

“A Hydra!” he exclaimed.

He didn’t waste another second thinking. He was now closer to the Hydra than the Princess, and both parties raced to stop the beast.

“What are you doing here, young stallion?” came the voice of the Princess, booming with a frightening authority.

“I’m going to help.”

This caused a few rude snickers among the Royal Guard.

“Stand back, Nomad,” the Princess ordered. “This isn’t your fight.”

Emerald Alembic was not a stallion to feel indignant, but he took this as both an insult and a challenge, and refused to back away a single step.

“Princess,” he called out over the monster’s roars, “can you perform Star Swirl’s containment spell?”

“I can,” said the Princess hesitantly.

“And the Tetra variation? Do you know it?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Perform a vertical Tetra variation on the Hydra to keep it from moving. Trust me, anything less than that and a creature with two heads can will itself out of the spell.”

“I am well aware of that, Nomad,” said the Princess impatiently.

“Do it now!” Emerald shouted.

He traced a symbol in the earth with his hoof and teleported himself to the Hydra’s left side. By this time Celestia had overcome her annoyance and the containment spell was cast, rendering the giant beast immobile. He traced a different symbol here and went to the Hydra’s rear, then its right, and did the same in both these places.

He spoke under his breath and put all his concentration into his magic, bringing the symbols and the square to his mind. When his horn was full aglow great portions of the earth rose, leaving gaping holes in the hillside.

The floating clumps of rock and soil shrank and darkened, looking heavier and developing a sheen like metal. They shaped themselves into rings and bands, straps and cuffs, and wrapped around the Hydra’s limbs and heads, constricting until they threatened to break the victim’s bones.

“You can release the containment spell now, Princess,” Emerald said. He was breathing heavily and his coat was damp with sweat.

The Hydra began to kick and shake, but finding itself completely shackled, quickly gave up the effort. Even monsters understand futility.

Celestia and her procession of guards crept closer. The Princess tapped the colossal bands with her hoof.

“Iron?” she said with a start. “There isn’t any iron in these hills. Where did it come from?”

Emerald Alembic was resting on the ground, trying to catch his breath. His magic had tired him so much that his eyes were dilated and bloodshot.

“Help the Nomad into my carriage,” Celestia ordered.

The guards obeyed carefully; a quiet respect for the stranger was growing in their hearts. The Princess followed him into the coach, and saw that he had fallen asleep on the seat.

The carriage was in the air when he came to, and the Princess was reclining regally. Her hair shone semi-transparent, in every way like daytime aurora, and the jewel in her crown refracted tinted beams in all directions.

“Where can we take you?” she asked the tired stallion.

“What time is it?” he returned.

“It will be just after two o’clock.”

“I’m late then. I had an appointment with a dressmaker named Rarity.”

“I know the boutique. Don’t worry, Emerald Alembic, we will get you to your appointment.”

Emerald did not ask how she had learned his name; it was obvious: four hours had passed since the morning shower, and the Princess had visited her student and been told all about him.

Within a flash the procession was at Rarity’s boutique, as if it had been headed there before Emerald had even woken up.

Emerald alighted and thanked the Princess for taking care of him. The Princess bowed respectfully.

“You will have one hour for your appointment,” she said. “Afterward I wish to summon you to Canterlot. There is much that must be discussed.”

“I understand, Your Highness. One hour will suffice.”

“I will place two guards outside to fetch you when the time is come.”

Emerald bowed very low to the ground and the royal procession took off, minus two of its guards. The handsome stallion knocked at the boutique door and was bidden to enter. He wiped his hooves on the doormat and pushed open the door.

The alabaster mare stood with a deliberate hauteur that took away from her natural beauty. She beckoned toward a platform where he was to stand, and he moved nervously toward it.

“I’d rather not have to remove my cloak for this,” said Emerald with noticeable agitation.

“Well, that will throw off the measurements a tad,” said Rarity. “And how will I fit you into the materials?”

“Certainly it’s too much to ask,” he muttered.

“Don’t tell me you’re shy!” the unicorn said. “Oh, that’s simply adorable! But you don’t need to be shy around me. If it’s a scar, or a—”

“It’s nothing,” Emerald interrupted, trying to sound gentle.

He sighed.

“I will have to remove my cloak for this,” he said at last. “But you must promise not to tell anypony what you see. This is a secret I’ve kept for a long time.”

The dressmaker, ever a gossip, was eager to learn a secret, even if she were forbidden from pronouncing it. Immediately she promised to tell no one.

“Not a soul,” he insisted.

“Upon my honor!”

With one last sigh he pulled the cloak off his back, and Rarity did her best to hide her surprise. She set about getting the materials and measuring tapes, and began to work in total silence, while Emerald read.

For one hour he was measured and fitted, then refitted when adjustments were made to the new cloak. All the while he was brewing potions in his mind, testing them, seeing them fail, adjusting the mixtures and retesting them. He knew that Star Swirl’s forgetfulness potion was undiscriminating, and he couldn’t have the dressmaker forget that he had ever showed up for their appointment at all. Nor could he use a forgetfulness spell: the only one he knew would make her forget his existence, a spell he had found quite useful over the years.

No, she had to remember him, she just had to forget his secret. For that he needed to add one ingredient to Star Swirl’s original recipe: the Blue Swamp Lily.

Emerald couldn’t imagine how to gather the ingredients in time to do anything, so he resigned himself to let her keep his secret for a little while longer.

The guards knocked and Emerald hurriedly draped the new cloak over his shoulders. It was perfectly fitted, and the material felt nice against his coat, but he was slightly displeased with the air of wealth its frills and stitching exuded. Of course he never for an instant considered saying so to the dressmaker.

“You’ve been summoned, Nomad,” said one of the guards. “Is your business finished here?”

“Yes, thank you,” said Emerald. “If it is not too much to ask that my expense here be covered, I would like to ask that favor of the Princess.”

He gave a quick glance to Rarity that forced her to stay silent.

“I am sure she will approve,” said the second guard.

Emerald bowed and followed the guards outside, where the Princess was waiting in her train. The guards exchanged whispers with her, and she pulled twenty gold bits out of a purse and passed them off to the guard, who carried them into Rarity’s boutique to pay for Emerald Alembic’s new cloak.

“If you have no further business in Ponyville,” a guard said to him, “we’ll be departing presently for Canterlot.”

“I’m ready,” said Emerald.

But inside he shook with apprehension. To leave one’s secret lying out in the open when one is not around to protect it, is something that even the bravest stallion must fear.

IV. Canterlot

It was a chilly afternoon to be flying in an open carriage. Emerald’s gentlecoltly instincts told him to offer his cloak to the Princess, but so jealously did he guard his secret, and so composed did Celestia look, that he did not presume to do so.

“You’re quite tall for a unicorn,” the Princess said once they were off the ground. And it was true: Emerald was nearly the Princess’s equal in height.

“Am I?” Emerald pondered for a moment. “I don’t like to think about it that way.”

“How do you like to think about it?” said the Princess, scanning him with her light magenta eyes.

“That I’m tall perhaps,” Emerald said. “Not taller or shorter than I should be. After all, if I’m this tall, it’s exactly how tall I’m supposed to be. Don’t you think?”

“You have a point.”

They exchanged occasional conversation during the journey, which lasted just under two hours. As the procession came in over Canterlot, it descended directly in front of the castle, within several paces of the portcullis gate.

A score of guards on either side bowed reverently to the ground as the Princess and her guest alighted. Through the gate they went, preceded by the same Royal Guards that had pulled their train. Celestia led the stallion into a tower flowing with tapestries over every second window, diamond-paned with beautiful iridescent glass. Emerald admired each of them as they made their way up the spiraling staircase.

The Princess stopped on the fifth landing they passed, in front of a large door. It was intimidating in its size and sturdy construction, yet it did not have the feeling of a prison door, to Emerald’s great relief.

Inside was a beautifully decorated room. The walls were covered in paintings of captains and generals, as well as still lifes and marvelous Equestrian landscapes, all of them hoary with age. The only window was a stained glass mural of the Princess of the Night raising the Moon, which gave a blue tint to the room until Celestia switched on a bright electric chandelier light. A writing desk sat under the window with all the necessary stationery. A large canopy bed was covered in throw pillows as if it had been attacked by a wild horde of them and lay defeated, and the bed curtains were as ornate as any dress ever worn at the Grand Galloping Gala. Most shockingly, several rows of books had been carefully selected from the library to stock the room’s bookshelf during the stallion’s stay.

“You will be called upon immediately after the Moon has risen,” said the Princess, not unkindly. “What is expected of you will be discussed then.”

“I understand,” was his reply.

The Princess shut the door, and her hoof steps could be heard ascending the stone steps of the tower for an entire minute.

Emerald Alembic decided to pass the hours reading Star Swirl’s book and refining the recipe. Most of the ingredients could be bought at any apothecary in Canterlot, except the special ingredient he needed to specialize the potion: the Blue Swamp Lily. Now that he thought of it, he would need one part of the root per three parts of the flower.

It was possible the Royal Apothecary would be equipped with such an herb, but it would be dangerous to ask for such a thing, since its only acknowledged application is in the extraction of information from prisoners and spies—it had not been used at all since the union of the Three Tribes and the founding of Equestria.

What upset him most was that just hours before he was a short walk away from an abundant supply of the plant: the Everfree Forest. But he would be back in Ponyville soon enough, of this he had no doubt.

When he was satisfied that he had perfected the recipe, the Sun had not yet set. He scanned the bookshelf for reading material. There were copious volumes of Star Swirl the Bearded’s personal writings, not on spells, but on the inner source of unicorn magic, and proper technique for its cultivation. Emerald was only interested in his later writings, those finished in the last ten years of his life, but none of these were on the shelf.

Most of the volumes, however, were post-classical or modern spell books, not very sophisticated but useful for someone less well versed in magic than Emerald Alembic.

At last the Sun dipped below the horizon and, through the lighter pieces of glass, the Moon could be seen to rise through the window of the stallion’s chamber. No sooner did this happen than he heard a knock and Princess Celestia appeared in the doorway.

“Follow me, Emerald Alembic.”

He followed without question.

“I am not as familiar with the arcane schools of magic as my younger sister,” said the Princess, “but I know that normal unicorn magic cannot turn rock into metal. Furthermore, I’ve never seen a unicorn use seals to perform magic.”

Emerald remained silent.

“My student Twilight Sparkle said you were in her library asking for books on alchemy, a form of magic which could do what you did to the Hydra. It also has the unique feature of requiring seals and geometry to work. Tell me, Emerald Alembic: where did you learn alchemy? Nopony has been able to use alchemy since Star Swirl himself, and those scrolls are so obscure that they are buried in vaults purely from lack of usefulness.”

Emerald let himself smile.

“Actually, Princess, if you’ll excuse me, you’re wrong on one count. Most alchemy is only unicorn magic applied in a different way. Our books for teaching unicorn magic to foals, even though they are based on Star Swirl’s writings, all of them teach a technique which limits them to what you call normal magic. The magical energies have to be processed and experienced much differently to perform alchemy. Without this, failure is inevitable.”

The Princess gazed shrewdly at the tall unicorn who spoke with such erudition upon an ancient and esoteric subject.

“I mean to say,” Emerald went on quickly, “that seals are only required for very large spells. No unicorn has enough magic inside them to do what I did, so an external magic has to be harnessed. That is what the seals are for. Had the Hydra been smaller, I would simply have summoned chains with ordinary magic.”

“The question still stands of where you learned alchemy?”

“Before that, Princess, I would like to know what is intended for me.”

Celestia sighed. This stallion was harder to deal with than she had thought, even with his domineering first impression.

“You will be brought to my sister, Princess Luna. She was a student of Star Swirl the Bearded. She is the only pony alive who can perform alchemy—or so I thought. You will divulge to her all you know about alchemy, and hopefully she can get you to tell her where you learned your magic.”

“It sounds like we have a lot in common,” said Emerald with a nervous laugh.

Inwardly, however, he was smiling: he was exactly where he wanted to be. Princess Luna, this student of Star Swirl, was exactly who he needed to see.

At the top of the steps stood a massive carved door, painted red and rubbed with gold leaf. Celestia pressed the latch and the heavy door blew open noiselessly, revealing a sort of watchtower room.

On a balcony, veiled by thin curtains, the Princess of the Night was overlooking the city and waiting for her guest to arrive.

“Sister,” said the Princess softly, “this is Emerald Alembic, the stallion who saved Ponyville from a giant Hydra.”

The dark-coated princess came in through the curtains. She brushed her star-studded mane aside and searched Emerald with her eyes for what seemed a long time before speaking.

“Not many ponies understand the variations of such advanced containment spells,” Luna said, “let alone how to apply them directionally. Thank you, sister, I will talk with him.”

Princess Celestia left the watchtower and closed the door behind her, leaving Emerald alone with Princess Luna.

“Now, Emerald Alembic,” Princess Luna continued, “if your name is any indication, it’s not surprising that your talent is alchemy. What’s surprising is where you could have learned it. Do not be afraid, young one. Alchemy is not forbidden. On the contrary, it would be a very useful magic if we understood it.

“We would like you to tell us everything you think would be useful in instructing other unicorns to use alchemy. I know from my teacher, Star Swirl the Bearded, that it is the most useful kind of magic for medicine. You would be doing the kingdom of Equestria a great favor if you underwent this work, and we would be willing to provide you with anything you need for additional research.”

“There is no reason to refuse your offer,” said Emerald Alembic.

His heart was glowing with triumph. So near now, he thought, so near the goal.

“But first of all, will you tell me how you came to study alchemy? I admit I tire of pondering this question.”

Emerald Alembic took a deep breath in. So near our goal, he kept repeating in his head. He took the shoulder of his cloak in his teeth and pulled the cover off his body, baring his emerald-green coat that shone like a second Moon in the room.

Luna gasped.

He tossed the cloak to the floor and spread his wings, whose span was twice the length of him from nose to tail. His cutie mark, a bright green distillation flask, bore testament to his name and talent.

“An alicorn!” said Luna weakly. “H-how? We thought our family was all that remained of the alicorn race.”

“That’s not important. I’ve disguised myself as a unicorn for several millennia to avoid attention. But only by revealing myself to you can I answer your question.”

Emerald picked up his cloak and clasped it around his neck, once again covering his wings like a safe full of gemstones. Luna used the moment to recover her senses.

“I, too, was Star Swirl’s student,” Emerald continued. “I’ve taken special notice of you all these years because I always knew you as the alicorn who replaced me as his protégée.”

Luna let herself breathe more easily around the stallion.

“If you studied under Star Swirl, then it is no wonder you have had access to so many of his hidden and advanced teachings. But you must be very talented. I myself could only master the very basics of alchemy.”

The Princess summoned a small pot filled with soil. She tapped her horn against the ceramic, and a pinpoint of light proceeded from the tip. As it flickered, a sprout peaked through the soil and grew, slowly but steadily, until it was crowned with a fragrant pink rose and thorns grew from its stem.

“Alchemia vitalis,” said Emerald with a smile. “Basic, indeed, but profound. The difference is that the alchemical magic only starts the process and accelerates it, and the life force of the plant takes over the rest. Getting past that has always been a hurdle, since the shaping and finishing of the work is a very different process.”

“My master—,“ Luna broke off,—“our master said that nopony understands unicorn magic, not even him. It is possible to summon an object seemingly from nowhere, a pot for instance, as I’ve just done. It is mysterious despite how well we understand how to do it.”

“Yes,” Emerald said. “Whereas alchemy is based very solidly. It is not as magical as magic, nor as difficult to understand or learn. In fact, I’m convinced an Earth pony could use alchemy given the proper tools.”

“What makes you say that?” Luna said, surprised. “Surely they would need a unicorn’s store of magic, and a horn?”

“It’s only an idea I have,” Emerald said. “Some alchemy is purely external, like making potions. Of course, that is how Star Swirl discovered alchemy, so that’s no surprise. He thought, ‘Why teach foals to create from nothing when all the resources are right at their hooves?’ There are limits to magic, but there are limits to alchemy as well. Neither is stronger than the other, though magic is more practical. It’s a difference of philosophical school.

“I believe our master preferred alchemy because of its elegant logic. But that is only my opinion. The truth is he abandoned researching alchemy about the time that he abandoned me.”

The Princess looked at him with a confused sympathy.

“Abandoned you?”

“That’s a long story,” said Emerald.

He tapped his horn against the rim of the flower pot just as Luna did, and by the spark of his horn a beautiful flower grew next to the pink rose. It had as many pedals as a star has rays around it, orange and red flowing into one another in a gorgeous autumnal display, seeming to dance consciously in the wind.

It was a flower of such beauty and perfume that Luna did not look away from it for a long time. She stood enraptured by its scent, which transported her into a world of ancient memories, long forgotten joys she could not believe she had forgotten, and hidden sorrows that she thought she had banished from her heart. She began to cry, for she could not escape these memories until Emerald spoke once again.

“It is a story,” he said, “about a flower.”

V. Two River Roses

“When I was still apprenticed under Star Swirl the Bearded, I was married to a very beautiful Earth pony. She had a mane of the deepest scarlet you’ll ever see, her coat was the color of dry clay, and her eyes were set like adamantine chestnuts in her head.

“Her name was River Rose. She was the niece of the Prince of the Earth tribe at that time. We were in hiding because it caused quite a sensation that she had married an alicorn. It wasn’t as bad as if I had been a unicorn, but the way things were, nopony was happy about intermarrying between tribes.

“We hid in a cottage deep within unicorn territory, nearby where Star Swirl lived. He protected us and taught me every Ward spell he knew. I had already been his student for several years, and it was around the time of our marriage that he began experimenting with alchemy. He viewed the magic like a potion, the world full of ingredients that just had to be mixed properly.

“I helped him with his research and experiments. When he finally discovered the technique, he taught it to me immediately so I could help him experiment with it. We called it a mental crucible, the place where the ingredients are broken down and mixed in the mind.

“You’ll recall that in those days it was common for alicorns to have no cutie marks for many decades. Naturally this made us the object of harsh words by the other tribes, but it was simply because we often had to live centuries before discovering our destiny. You were among the lucky ones, born into royalty, where your fate was secure, and you did not need to search tirelessly to find your place in the world.

“I say all this because it was in those days that I discovered my true talent for mixing these mental potions. One day while experimenting, I had an idea that made me very excited, and I decided to try it out without asking Star Swirl to watch over it. I took some soil and brought it into my mental crucible; then I released it immediately without trying to shape it. You’ll recognize this process: it is the alchemia vitalis, and I was its originator.

“As the flower grew, it took on the hue of my coat, then my mane, then my eyes, and I realized I had put too much of myself into the crucible. I plucked the flower from the soil and started over, this time throwing in a common form of thistle that grew in the forest. When it grew it took shape exactly as expected, and I knew I had made a very important discovery. I logged all the findings in a journal, and just as I finished writing there was a stinging sensation on my flank. When I looked, there was my cutie mark: this distillation flask filled with an emerald potion. I knew I had finally discovered my aptitude.

“But enough of that. I revealed this discovery to Star Swirl, and he was so captivated by it that he spent all night studying it to understand the principles I had used. Much of the time he was interrogating me fiercely. Not angrily, no, he wasn’t that type, even when he was impatient. Oh, but you know that. There was always a fire in his eyes when there was something to be discovered, and even his big white beard didn’t stop you from being fooled that he might have been an adventurous young colt under all those bells.

“It was a week after that we were attacked. River Rose was picking flowers for our lunch, so she wasn’t inside the barrier I kept up around our cottage. I was with Star Swirl trying to add to the research when we heard the shouts.

“A group of Earth ponies had come to steal River Rose back from me. They thought it was a crime for us to intermarry: in their minds she belonged to the Earth pony tribe. When she resisted, they tried to subdue her, and one of them kicked her very hard in the head.

“I was just in time to see her fall and keep them from dragging her away. Star Swirl convinced me not to chase them, though they called insults back at me as they fled. We brought her inside and Star Swirl did his best to brew potions and find spells to help her. I actually have a book in my bag that contains the very recipe he used to heal her fractured skull.

“But the damage was beyond the realm of potion magic. The only option was time magic, an idea I had been toying with for a long time, but one which Star Swirl refused to listen to me about. Now especially he told me to be reasonable, and to stay away from changing what can’t be changed.

“‘Chasing the impossible is the best way to forget reality,’ he said. But I didn’t listen. I kept looking for a time travel spell, and then I had a thought: what about time travel alchemy? If we’ve found spells that can rearrange existing matter, then can’t we rearrange existing time? I only needed to find the right things to put into the crucible.

“River Rose died a month after the attack. I slept only two hours a day after that, and spent the rest of my time doing research. It was the only way to keep myself from the misery I was feeling.

“I uncovered stories of a flower, red and orange, that only grew under very strict circumstances: when there were two Harvest moons; that is, two full moons in September, this flower would grow on both these days, and only on these days. It would open with the sunrise and wilt with the moonset. This was a flower so dependent upon time for its existence, that time magic had to have been its source of vitality. I spent decades waiting for it, and I finally found it, fifty years after River Rose’s death.

“I named it after her. I called it the Thousand-Petalled River Rose. I worked like a madman to perform all my experiments before the moonset, and its properties vanished with the Moon. It couldn’t be used in potions, not as it was, unless the potion was consumed immediately.

“Before the full moon faded I was determined to study and distill its magic more closely. I reverse engineered it and created several time-related spells. But most of them could only be performed under the same conditions that the flower grew. They depended upon ritual.

“Only one of those spells can be performed outside of this window. It’s a spell that allows anything within a magic field to return to the way it was in the past, up to several hours ago. And even this spell is stronger during the narrow window of the Double Harvest.

“Meanwhile, Star Swirl had grown tired of my obsession. He pronounced me hopeless and forfeited me as his pupil. I was too caught up in research to care. He abandoned me, but only because I had abandoned him, along with all reason. My only goal was to revive River Rose so that we could be together.

“But the decades dragged on as I waited for another opportunity to study the flower. I turned to astronomy to discover why those full moons were so magical, but I found no clues in the stars. I spent many days thinking only of River Rose and mourning. I realized I had spent so many years denying her death and hiding behind experiments that I never allowed myself to cry for her. But I cried then. I’m convinced the nearby town based ghost stories on my crying, since I carried on for an entire week.

“Ultimately I think her death is the reason Star Swirl ended up studying time travel magic. He loved her as a daughter, as surely as he loved me like a son. Of that I have no doubt. The time spells he created, I feel, were created because secretly he mourned alongside me and for me. Perhaps he wanted her back as much as I did. Maybe he just wanted me back, back to how I was before.

“I continue to regret that I did not have the magic to save her. But as the centuries passed a very important revelation came to me: I remembered that she was an Earth pony, always destined to die before me. Even if she had lived, I told myself, she would have been dead by the time I sat thinking about this. Though I may feel my time with her was shorter than I expected, by definition she would have died long before I was ready to let her go. I decided to give up on the flower.

“I hid my wings and became a hermit, traveling from town to town, using my weak time magic to treat the sick. I discovered a loophole in the spell. Even though it restricts entire objects to a few-hour window, parts of the body, I learned, cells and organs and even limbs, can be returned to how they were decades before. This meant a pony’s entire body did not need to be hurled backward along time to be returned to a previous state of health. It was an obscure discovery, but very useful in medicine.

“For millennia I’ve wandered throughout Equestria, treating people, and using a forgetfulness spell to erase myself from their memories. I’ve had no other purpose than to keep others from experiencing the same loss, the same agony, the same helplessness I felt when River Rose died.

“All the while I remembered you, Luna, the student Star Swirl didn’t abandon. Perhaps with a hint of jealousy, but then with respect I remembered you. When you rebelled against your sister as Nightmare Moon, I was watching, my only thought being that all of Star Swirl’s students were destined for dangerous obsessions.

“You were banished, and I waited another thousand years without consolation, Star Swirl’s only remaining pupil. But it was prophesied that you would return, so I bided my time. I didn’t know what would happen, but I knew you could help me to fulfill my dreams. You were the Princess of the Night—who knew more of the Moon’s secrets than you?

“I waited, and at last you returned. Instead of Nightmare Moon, the gentle Princess Luna once again kept balance in Equestria, so my quest was safer than I had hoped.

“I have been searching for a way to contact you since you returned two harvests ago. Now, through your sister’s student, who used her magic to restore you to Harmony, I have accomplished what I have sought for so long. Except that I now rely on you to tell me one thing: why is the Double Harvest Moon so unique?”

VI. Royal Duties

While Emerald was talking, the Princess of the Night stared into the corolla of the red-orange flower. She avoided eye contact, occasionally closing her eyes and distracting herself with the amorous perfume it gave off. It had already begun to wilt beside the healthy pink rose.

Halfway through the story, she and Emerald had both lain down on large silk cushions, and while he spoke she stared at the marble floor, arrayed in argent squares and blue diamonds that kept her eyes always busy.

When he asked his question, Luna took in a deep breath and spoke softly.

“The Harvest Moon is always endowed with extra growth magic,” she said. “But not like the growth magic used in spring. The Harvest Moon is filled with fertility magic. It is the magic of renewal and new life. I don’t do it, nor did my sister when she raised the Moon during my banishment. The Moon expresses its magic by itself, just as the Sun would keep burning even if it did not rise.

“You are right. I too have noticed that the fertility magic is different during certain harvests, when two full moons shine with the Harvest magic. During my thousand years imprisoned in the Moon, I felt its magic coursing through me, and became as familiar with it as you are no doubt with the magic of the Earth and trees.

“Certainly the magic is different. It is extremely powerful fertility magic, and perhaps you are right in thinking of it as resurrection magic. However, I can give you a clue as to the type of magic it is, and that is this: only on two other occasions have I felt this magic. At the time my sister banished me, and when Twilight Sparkle thwarted my return.”

A terrible heat flashed through Emerald Alembic’s entire body, and his heart skipped a beat.

I knew it, he thought, but let’s hear her say it.

“It is the magic of the Elements of Harmony,” the Princess concluded.

Emerald’s heart was warm and dizzy with delight. At last, he thought, after centuries of searching, the final piece of my research is complete. So near to Victory, so near and now I’m touching it. It perhaps won’t suffer my embrace just yet, but soon, and from then on.

“The Elements, then,” said Emerald, “are the only existing way to harness the Double Harvest magic?”

“I do believe that,” said the Princess.

“I would like very much—in fact, I will need to study the Elements of Harmony.”

“I do not think that is possible,” said Luna nervously.

“Only if I understand how the Elements work can I complete my understanding of the Mental Crucible. Only they will allow me to perfect my medical magic.”

Luna appeared very hesitant to grant him his request.

“Think about it,” Emerald continued. “With this magic, nopony will ever have to die, not until it is their time and old age takes them. Never again will an accident claim a filly’s life, flood and fire will be powerless. And only someone who understands the Mental Crucible can use the magic of the Elements to that end. Besides,” he added quickly, “it is the condition I demand if I am to undertake the duties you’ve requested of me.”

“I understand,” said Luna. “But I will have to discuss everything you’ve said tonight with my sister. You have no objection to that?”

“Of course not,” Emerald smiled. “I only hid my wings from her because she and I were never alone together. At any rate I believe she suspects me. Tell her my secret, by all means, and tell her that I have the best of Equestria’s future at heart.”

“I will speak with her tonight,” said Luna, “and she will give you her decision in the morning.”

“And one more thing,” said Emerald. “Remind her that I am not asking you to hand over the Elements of Harmony to my custody. On the contrary, I am asking you to allow me to build a lab in the castle so that I may study them only when my royal duties are completed each day.”

“I will tell her so,” said the Princess warmly.

They bade each other good night, and Emerald Alembic returned to his chamber unescorted. He had spoken to the Princess with as much composure as he could summon, but he was frightfully nervous as to how Celestia would react to his identity. And then there was the affair of the Hydra—he would not for the world confide his worries to the Princesses, but the Hydra’s sudden appearance had caused him constant worry since he had awoken in the royal parade that afternoon. It had a suspicion of foul play about it.

Yet despite all these worries, Emerald dwelt upon his successes, and he fell quickly asleep in his bed, and had the soundest slumber, and the loveliest dreams, that he had had in almost one hundred years.

* * *

The Sun was barely over the horizon when a knock at Emerald’s chamber door woke him up. The door opened before he could get out of bed, so he acted swiftly to wrap himself in his blankets to cover his wings.

His precautions were unnecessary. In the doorway stood only the two Princesses side by side. Luna looked at Emerald with her accustomed compassionate look, and Celestia stared at him half-sternly.

“I want to see your wings,” said Celestia.

Emerald bowed before removing his blankets, and stretched his wings in the yellow light of the chandelier. His translucent feathers twitched and he contracted the wings so they were back against his side.

Celestia grimaced at this confirmation of Luna’s story.

“It’s difficult to believe that it’s true,” said the Day Princess. “We haven’t heard of another alicorn in a long time, but it has happened before that an alicorn came out of hiding.”

“I apologize,” said Emerald humbly, “but no opportunity presented itself to reveal my secret to you, Princess. It was always my intention that you should know. But let me be clear: I have not come out of hiding, as you have put it, except to Your Highnesses. As it is, there is a pony in Ponyville—the dressmaker—who knows my secret. I would like your permission to brew a very special potion that would remove from her memory only the fact of my wings.”

Celestia frowned and pondered for a long moment.

“Very well. The ingredients will be gathered for you. What is the formula?”

Emerald showed the Princess the page in Star Swirl’s book.

“With one additional ingredient,” he said. “I will need a Blue Swamp Lily, flower and root.”

“I do not like the sound of that, I admit,” said Celestia. “It is a restricted plant, and you are a headstrong and defiant stallion. Even so, you seem honest enough. We will gather a Blue Swamp Lily for you. And for your lab, what will you need?”

“Only the standard potion-making equipment, several journals and plenty of ink. And an obsidian scrying stone. I cannot stress enough how important the obsidian is.”

“I understand,” said the Princess flatly, “and it will be provided. As for the Elements of Harmony, you will be allowed to study each Element individually for up to three hours each day. The guards will allow you to be in possession of one Element at a time. Whichever you choose. But if you wish to study another Element, the previous one must be returned first. Understood?”

“Perfectly,” Emerald smiled. “But when I have studied them all, I fear I may have to perform at least a little bit of research upon them when they are together. Perhaps even when they are activated.”

“If it comes to that. In the meantime glean as much as you can from the Elements individually. Your lab will be set up in here, if it please you.”

“That would be most convenient,” replied Emerald.

“Then so be it. All you need will be assembled by midday. When is the soonest you can produce a treatise instructing unicorns in the use of alchemy?”

“If I write all day, I can produce a practicable template by midnight. A truly in-depth treatise would require a week and an assistant.”

“An assistant will be provided. Write enough in your preliminary template that the Royal Guards can learn basic alchemy.”

“I will focus on defensive alchemy, then. Wards and sealing spells.”

“Very good,” said Princess Celestia. “When this treatise is submitted to me, you will have access to the Elements of Harmony.”

Emerald Alembic bowed until his nose touched the tiled floor.

“I am much obliged, Your Highness.”

“And we are grateful for your dedication to the Kingdom,” Luna chimed in.

The Princesses left the chamber and Emerald sat down at the writing desk. There was enough paper and ink for him to write until more supplies arrived at midday. He set about recording his instructions for the Royal Guard, teaching them on paper how to construct their own Mental Crucibles, the most necessary tool for alchemical magic.

When the laboratory equipment arrived he ignored the workers and continued writing. Only when he needed a break did he unpack the boxes of vials and flasks, set up the scrying stone, or bother organizing his ingredients. He was eager to begin brewing the forgetfulness potion, but he decided to wait until he was finished with his official duties.

He finished earlier than expected, at moonrise about two hours before midnight. He promptly began crushing and refining the ingredients for the potion. It was an hour-long process to let the potion sit before adding the Blue Swamp Lily, and Emerald did not wish to waste a moment.

While the potion was sitting he retrieved a messenger to bring his treatise to the Princess. He returned to his laboratory and began refining the Blue Swamp Lily, which had to be made into a tincture with Rainbow Color before being distilled into the sitting potion.

He ordered the Element of Magic to be delivered to him, and studied it for half an hour before returning it, slightly disappointed.

When the potion was completed he bottled it in several vials and tucked them safely away in a cushioned case. He would find a way to administer the potion in the morning, which would mean taking a trip out to Ponyville. But in the meantime, he wanted to get some sleep.

There came a knock at his chamber door. A second knock, then silence.

“Who is it?” he called.

“It is your Princess,” said Luna’s voice through the thick plank door.

He bade her enter and greeted her humbly.

“I was not expecting a visit so late,” he said.

The Princess became very red.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “You must be tired, I should not have intruded.”

“Not at all, not at all,” Emerald smiled. He was exhausted, but there was something charming in this visit. He wished to see how it would turn out. “Is there something you need?”

“It’s not that,” the Princess paused. “But you are so old, like us. Maybe I was hoping…To catch up with an old friend is to relive your past for a moment.”

Emerald understood. He wanted to relieve her embarrassment. Instead he sighed.

“Chasing the past is dangerous,” he said. “Even if you could return to a time of innocence, what would you gain? You would only lose your perspective.”

“Why are you saying this?” Luna protested.

“Your Highness, all the years you want me to give back to you, even I don’t have them. For me, they are bubbles of forgetfulness, wandering with no direction and no memory. The beautiful past you want to remember, it never touched me. Please Princess, do not look to me for comfort, for I swear on my life I never had such a thing.”

The Princess, more hurt than angry, let out an indignant gasp.

“Well! I come to offer my friendship, and I am lectured by one of my subjects. I can see I am not welcome.”

She stomped toward the door in a clumsy hurry.

“You called me ‘young one’,” Emerald called after her. She halted in the doorway. “It made me smile.”

“How so?” said Luna, apparently soothed by his remark.

“I proposed to River Rose the night your birth was announced. A new princess for the royal family. I remember every detail of that night. Of you, I remember most of all the rumors of your blue hair. It looked like the moon, they said, so soft and passive and wise. “You are right, I am very old. I was an adult when you were born, and an old man when Star Swirl broke my heart; ancient when he died. So very ancient when they all died. You’ve noticed it, too.

“They all die. How do alicorns bear this, the loneliness of life without our race? How do we watch the whole world pass to dust around us while we live on, remembering a mountain who was once our friend, but has since crumbled into a valley? It is not safe for us to have friends, because we know too well the pain of losing them. This is why I spoke rudely to you, Your Highness. If I am honest, my life has made me too afraid of friendship.”

“In that respect, Emerald Alembic,” said Luna through a click in her throat, “we are much the same.”

“Your Highness will not mind my calling her Luna?”

“She would be honored,” the Princess replied.

“If you are still offering your friendship, I cannot but accept it. And we will talk soon, but for now I am too exhausted to think.”

“I understand. Good night, Emerald Alembic.”

“Good night, Luna.”

The Princess left, and Emerald took a few moments to clear his head. He needed to breathe, so he opened the only window, which swung open on a rusty hinge. He stared at Luna’s likeness in the glass and sighed. He let all his thoughts flow through him, surf through his lungs and leave him on his breath. Out into the night he threw his troubled thoughts until he felt ready to sleep.

His heart palpitated excitedly, however, when he lay in his bed. His mind wandered back to his goal. Tomorrow he would finally touch the Elements. What had he heard? That the dressmaker Rarity was the bearer of the Element of Generosity? There was some Blue Swamp Lily left—it is a simple matter to mix a potion that would make her very glib.

“But no,” he thought. “I will leave her be. The bearer likely knows no more about the Elements than I. What is their secret? They are Harmony—interpersonal traits—brought together by magic. To be sure, that’s what they are. But what of their true nature?”

It took him long hours to still his mind and get to sleep. When he did, he dreamed of the Elements; he dreamed of the Princesses and medals of honor; he dreamed of Twilight Sparkle, who was so legendary in her magical skill; and most vividly, most pleasantly, most cruelly, he dreamed about his revenge.

* * *

Outside Canterlot’s walls, in the pale light of the waxing moon, a hooded figure crept toward the city. He dared not enter, for he dared not be seen. Instead, he was waiting. When the time was right, he would make the first move. He feared that his opponent was close to something dangerous, something that had to be stopped; he would stop it. After so many years, he felt close enough to taste his revenge.

VII. Forget-Me-Not, or, An Uninvited Guest

Next morning, Emerald Alembic requested official leave from the Day Princess to be allowed to see to the safety of his secret. To ease her mind, he permitted her to retrieve what he had not used of the Blue Swamp Lily.

“Would you like to take a royal carriage?” the Princess offered.

“Thank you,” said Emerald, “but the train will do just fine. Would you mind writing ahead to say that I will be visiting?”

“I will see to it.”

“I will be back by tonight. Say, how have you found the instructions I provided? I did my best to word it as a unicorn would be used to hearing magical instruction given.”

“Your instructions are satisfactory. I tested them myself, and we already have half a dozen Royal Guards performing your sealing spell, and basic defensive alchemy. Tell me, Emerald Alembic, who created those spells? They do not have the same language as Star Swirl’s other spells.”

“You are quite astute, Your Highness, as expected. True, it is not just that they are alchemical spells. The language is different because I created them. As I told your sister, my master abandoned alchemy before he made much use of it.”

“An adept spell crafter is a useful kind of pony to have around the palace.”

“May I say also,” said Emerald, “that your Guard is made of fast learners to manage my sealing spell so quickly. It took me years to craft it. It pleases me to know you surround yourself with the best and brightest, and I among them.”

“Do not be too flattered,” said Princess Luna’s voice behind him. “An ego is a hard beast to tame.”

“Princess!” he said brightly. “I did not hear you there. I’m glad I got to see you before I was off.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“I can’t remember,” he laughed. “It must be the fumes from my potion.”

Luna allowed herself a familiar laugh. The two alicorns made brief friendly conversation until Emerald excused himself.

“I want to make the next train,” he said. “Thank you again for your generosity.”

Emerald was escorted by guards to the train station and seated alone in the caboose. Two railroad stallions and a colt who was obviously still in training, occupied the car with him. The stallions sat in an elevated perch, looking out the window of the cupola to hold watch on either side of the train. It was the job of the colt to radio ahead to the engine when a potential obstruction approached the tracks from the side.

Occasionally this happened and the train slowed down. Emerald did not mind the delays, nor did he mind the bustle and coarse talk of the three ponies he shared the car with. Their conversations amongst each other was sometimes even interesting, though he never butted in, and they never included him.

When there were quiet moments he managed to be very pensive. He thought mostly about Luna. She was a good mare, kindly and gentle. Much of the sadness he had been feeling, the regret and anxiety of the urgency of his plans, melted away in her company. He was indeed quite fond of her, and hoped to call her a friend one day. He remembered the dream of the previous night, a dream where he used and manipulated her to exact his revenge. He did not want that to become reality. His revenge would hurt no one but his adversary. He had to make certain of that.

Quickly his thoughts jumped to the dressmaker Rarity. For all the multifarious ways in which a stallion like Emerald might find her manner unbearable, he knew that she, too, was sweet and crimeless. She was kind to him, and her generosity would certainly have caused her a significant loss on his account, had he not asked the Princess to pay her.

It was at this thought that the train pulled into the Ponyville station, and he alighted on the platform with a single bag, containing two vials of his potion. When he crossed the river into the town square, there was very little activity, as if it were a holiday. The shops were open, all but the bakery—a shame because he would have liked a cinnamon roll just then—but very few people were in them.

Emerald traced his way back to the library to find Twilight Sparkle. He hoped he would find her waiting for him, since she should have been notified of his visit.

He knocked at the door before entering. The dragon was again busy reshelving books.

“Hello Spike,” Emerald said. “Is Twilight in?”

“Oh hey Emerald,” Spike began. “Erm, she went to the station to meet you.”

“How stupid of me. I didn’t notice her. I suppose she’ll be back soon once she thinks I wasn’t on the train?”

“Probably.”

Twilight materialized in the room with a flash.

“Emerald!” she exclaimed. “Weren’t you on the train?”

“I guess we didn’t see each other. I wasn’t told anypony would be waiting for me at the station.”

“Oh, well I’m busy preparing for a party,” Twilight responded. “My mind must have been somewhere else.”

“The party wouldn’t happen to be why there’s nopony in the town square?”

Twilight nodded.

“Two of our friends are celebrating their anniversary today,” she explained. “Would you care to join us? I’m sure Mr. and Mrs. Cake wouldn’t mind if we invited you.”

“I would be happy to. I don’t have much work to get done, anyway.”

“Great! The party begins in two hours. Meet us back here and we’ll go there together?”

Emerald consented and excused himself on the pretense of work. In truth, he did not wish to have to put up with a party. Since leaving Canterlot his bad mood had returned, and he would have preferred to bury himself in work again. He knew the danger of delaying too long. His opponent would be busy preparing; there was no time to be wasting at social events. But he knew Rarity would be there, and what better way to have access to a pony’s drink than at a party? He would slip her the potion there and she would forget his secret. Afterward he could always sneak off early—he had led the Princess to expect he would return tonight, after all.

He found a quiet place in the outskirts of Ponyville to finish preparing. He took the vials from his bag and cast a memory spell on them: for that particular potion must be told what memory to erase, or else it will not work.

He replaced the vials and returned to Ponyville, where he whiled away the time in a restaurant before returning to the library.

Twilight Sparkle was dressed in an informal sundress when he entered. The baby dragon seemed itching to get out of the bowtie he would be wearing for the occasion. Emerald felt sorry he would be going in a traveling cloak, though he did not know the couple, and for the first time he was thankful the dressmaker had made it so presentable as to be almost noble.

“The anniversary party is on a hill outside of town,” said Twilight. “In the park. Ready to go?”

Emerald nodded.

The three set off together toward the south.

“So, Emerald,” Twilight began when they crossed the river, “where are you from? Originally, I mean.”

“I think that’s a complicated question,” said Emerald. He was not in the mood to dance around the issue. It is always so tiresome to think up lies when we are in a bad mood.

“Well, where were you born?”

“Not far from Canterlot,” he said half-truthfully, “in a village that was very famous for its corn at that time.”

“I’ve never heard of it,” said Twilight. “What’s it called?”

“You still won’t have heard of it,” he replied, trying to smile.

For the rest of the walk Twilight and Spike talked amongst themselves, but Emerald meekly resisted any attempts to get him to join in their festive attitude. He listened, however, as they discussed the couple who would be celebrated that night. It wasn’t long after they passed the last house on the road out of Ponyville that they entered the park.

The park was filled with massive canopy tents, like at a county fair. They shaded the benches and food stands and picnic tables from the mid-afternoon sun. Gigantic tubs of fruit punch capped the end of each table, and underneath them coolers filled with ice kept bottles of soda pop refreshingly chilled. Stalls were set up selling baked goods and other treats, with a surprising preponderance of “apple” in their names, given that apples should not be in season for another month anywhere else: There were apple fritters, candy apples, apple tarts, apple pie, even apple cupcakes. But there were many other delicious treats: carrot and funnel cake; peach cobbler, because peaches were in peak season; and smoothies made from the midsummer fruit were served at one or two stalls. The only thing missing was rides, to make you feel you truly were at a carnival.

The whole thing was very rustic and lively. Ponies stood shoulder to shoulder in many places and it was difficult to walk through. Rather than a romantic celebration of married devotion, it was a community celebration. Emerald almost felt bad for the shopkeepers who, rather than being here, were keeping their shops open for their customers—most of whom must be here anyway.

A bright pink mare came hopping toward them with a picnic basket in her mouth. She was wearing a party hat and a half-eaten popcorn necklace.

“Twilight!” she said in the bubbliest of voices, “you’re not going to believe this. I bobbed three apples at once. Three!”

“That’s great, Pinkie,” said Twilight happily.

Emerald was confused; she did not seem to be simply humoring her.

“Pinkie, this is Emerald Alembic. He’s visiting from Canterlot. Emerald, this is my friend Pinkie Pie.”

“Pinkamena Pie, at your service,” said the flighty mare with an ironic salute. “How do you know Twilight?”

“We ran into each other,” said Emerald.

“Literally,” Spike laughed.

Pinkie laughed until she snorted.

“What’s in the basket?” Twilight asked.

“Oh, this? They’re party supplies. See!”

She pulled an unreasonably tall stack of party hats from the basket and placed one on each of the newcomers’ heads, and gave a second one to herself. Emerald began to feel like he was wearing Spike’s bowtie.

“I have to get these supplies to the front booth,” said Pinkie. “See you later Twilight!”

“She seems…fun,” said Emerald after a moment.

“Well it isn’t a party without Pinkie Pie,” Twilight smiled.

The Element of Laughter, he thought. It couldn’t possibly be anypony else.

They kept walking through the crowded park. It was a very warm sunny day; most of the ponies began to crowd together under the shade of the tents, and the path became clearer by the minute.

“I want to give my best wishes to the Cakes,” said Twilight. “You don’t know them, so if you want to wait here…”

“No, no,” said Emerald. “What kind of guest would I be not to compliment the hosts on their special occasion?”

Twilight smiled and guided him to where the Cakes were standing. We say guided—in fact she was as lost while finding them as anyone ever was at any large event. But she led the way and Emerald followed until they had retraced every inch of the park several times, and finally found the Cakes in the place they had passed the greatest number of times.

The couple were at a vending stand that was being operated by three school-fillies. The fillies distributed cookies, fudge, and other bite-size treats as per demand. Mr. Cake, a lanky and tired-looking stallion, pressed together a brownie and a chocolate chip cookie together and ate them both in one bite. The bystanders all acted quite pleased, like they had believed he wouldn’t do it until just that moment.

The Cakes were lost in conversation with other guests, so Twilight greeted the fillies first.

“Hey, Apple Bloom,” she said. “Helping your sister out?”

“Yep!” said a red-haired filly with a careless southern accent. “Big Mac even took the day off the farm to carry the supplies.”

“We’re gonna get our cutie marks selling cookies!” said a tomboyish filly to the right. The other two nodded with terrible enthusiasm.

“Well, good luck girls,” said Twilight. “Can I get a brownie?”

“Here ya go!” said the squeaky-voiced third filly. “That’s one bit.”

Twilight paid and enjoyed her brownie slowly. The Cakes had moved to another stall so they followed.

“Those fillies do know the odds of having the same cutie mark are astronomical, don’t they?” said Emerald.

“It’s best to just indulge them,” Twilight told him. “They’ll learn eventually. They already know what they’re good at. Don’t we all? What we have to learn is how to like ourselves for what we’re good at. That’s the challenge.”

They caught up to the Cakes, who were occupied throwing rings on plastic ducklings.

“Happy Anniversary, Mr. and Mrs. Cake,” Twilight said to get their attention. “How are you enjoying the party?”

“Oh, Twilight, dear!” said Mrs. Cake.

She and her husband took turns embracing Twilight Sparkle. Mrs. Cake was a robust mare, the kind of pony whose jolliness seems proportional to the roundness of her frame. She wasn’t actually large, but quite short, and her figure created a humorous contrast beside her gaunt husband.

“The party is marvelous, thank you! If only our nephew Plum could have made it. But he’s a big important palace guard now.”

“Don’t exaggerate, Cup,” said Mr. Cake. “He’s only a private.”

“Oh hush!” she retorted. “Before you know it he’ll be a sergeant, or Captain!”

“Yes, dear,” said her husband, defeated.

“Who’s your friend?” they said, finally taking notice of Emerald.

“This is Emerald Alembic,” said Twilight with a hint of pride. “He’s been working at the palace teaching spells to the Royal Guard.”

“Oh, gee,” said Mrs. Cake. “You must be quite the skillful unicorn.”

Emerald bowed very deeply.

“Congratulations on your anniversary,” he said. “How long have you two been married?”

“Ten years now, isn’t it, honey bun?” said Mr. Cake before getting distracted by a balloon cart.

Emerald smiled and thought for a moment. He wanted to have a gift for the couple, and as he dwelt on the subject very rapidly, an idea came to mind. He pressed his horn to the ground and put all his magic through it, glowing and sparking while shoots forced their way through the grass. One shoot was followed by three, then a dozen, and while Mrs. Cake remained dazzled, and Mr. Cake remained focused on the pony twisting balloon animals, a veritable field of daffodils grew from the earth, ten inches tall in front of the duck-toss stand.

Mr. Cake turned around with a balloon monkey in his prognathous jaws, and dropped it at the sudden appearance of the grove. Emerald picked a single flower from the bed.

“I don’t know about today,” he said, “but in ancient times, ten was the daffodil anniversary. My humblest congratulations to you both.”

“Well, aren’t you just the sweetest charmer?” said Mrs. Cake, her cerulean cheeks turning bright pink. “Twilight, you never told me you had such a gentlecolt for a friend.”

Internally Emerald and Twilight fought over who was made more uncomfortable by Mrs. Cake’s saying this.

“Do you know where Applejack is?” Twilight said at last to break the silence.

“Oh, she should be running the pie stand,” said Mr. Cake. “Under the great oak.”

Twilight knew the place, so she excused the three of them. Spike acted quickly to wish the Cakes a happy anniversary before racing after his two companions.

“I’ve never seen that kind of magic before,” said Twilight to Emerald as they walked. “It looks like a type of growth magic.”

“It is,” said Emerald. “I created it. It’s very simple if you want to learn.”

“Twilight already knows growth magic,” Spike interrupted, scarfing down a whole plate of jellied candies. “She’s real stingy with it, though.”

“Spike,” said Twilight, “plants aren’t the same as moustaches. You have to create new life. I didn’t even know it was possible.”

“Oh, there’s nothing to it,” said Emerald, “with the right technique. I felt bad that I didn’t have a gift for them, so I gave them the only thing I could.”

“It was very sweet,” returned Twilight. “I didn’t know daffodils used to be the anniversary flower.”

“Next year is the tulip,” he replied. “I hope I’ll be around to give the Cakes a field of them for their eleventh anniversary. All different colors. They remind me of my aunt and uncle. They practically raised me.”

“Where are they now?”

“They died many years ago, in a landslide.”

“I’m so sorry,” said Twilight.

“It’s alright. With the Cakes just now, it was almost like seeing them again.”

Emerald almost stopped walking; his remark had reminded him of the Princess’s visit the previous night. How he wished he had not scolded her for wishing to relive her past! He, of all ponies, knew the pain of longing for lost loves. With all his might he shook off his inner turmoil and returned his mind to the party.

The three of them passed a few minutes quietly until they reached the giant oak tree at the far end of the park, where a blonde-maned pony in a brown Stetson hat was dishing out slices of pie to the guests.

“How’s business, Applejack?” said Twilight.

“Howdy, Twi!” said the mare. “Business is as boomin’ as a Pegasus in a thunder cloud. This caterin’ stuff sure will be good for the farm. Here, have a slice.”

“No, thanks,” Twilight smiled, “I’m still full from a brownie.”

“Those’ll do ya,” Applejack laughed. “Who’s this?”

Emerald introduced himself, trying not to be too formal with this kind of pony.

“Pleased as punch to meet ya, Emerald,” said Applejack.

She gave him a lively hoofshake from over the counter and opened a new pie box when the last was empty.

“Have a slice, sugarcube,” she said. “You look famished.”

Emerald took a slice and pulled out a couple of bits to pay. Applejack held out her hoof to stop him.

“This one’s on the house.”

“Thank you,” Emerald said with genuine gratitude. “I haven’t eaten since this morning.”

“How ’bout you, Spike? You want a slice?”

The baby dragon immediately took a piece of the pie in his claws and swallowed it without chewing.

“With all the sales today,” Applejack continued, “the apple pies alone have all but paid for the whole party. Maybe I can close up shop and tag along with y’all?”

“That’d be great,” said Twilight.

Applejack closed the stand and joined their company. She and Twilight made conversation together, and Emerald began to feel that he could have wandered off alone and nopony would have noticed. He tried talking to Spike, but quickly learned that baby dragons are not the best conversationalists.

He spotted Rarity standing along a row of hedges, speaking with a small group of well-dressed ponies. He snuck away to talk with her and, as he expected, was not missed for quite some time.

Out of the corner of her eyes Rarity noticed Emerald approaching. She excused herself from the conversation and trotted to meet him halfway.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, Emerald,” she said loudly. “And you do look dazzling in that cloak, if I may say so myself.”

“All credit to the craftsman,” said Emerald. “You must have a lot of control over your magic to make clothes this fine.”

Rarity indulged in a game of false modesty that made Emerald want to flee and try to erase her memory some other time. He managed to suffer through it.

“Would you like to play some games?” he said to stop her talking. “The ring toss looked fun when I passed it.”

“Oh,” Rarity hesitated. “Erm, sure. I would love to.”

At first there was unease between them; he was only trying to keep himself close to her, and she only wanted to keep herself close to him. Neither of them wished to play games. Eventually, however, their ulterior motives canceled each other out, and they began to enjoy the games they played.

They watched small foals play pin-the-tail-on-the-pony and take swings at a tenacious piñata. Emerald bobbed for apples enthusiastically, and Rarity stayed back to keep her mane well away from the water. Several hours passed before they exhausted all the games at the party. Emerald lost himself in the festivities, too many bottles of soda pop went to his head, and he nearly forgot the reason he was keeping himself alone with the dressmaker.

“Let’s sit down,” said Emerald. “You must be tired from all this walking.”

They found a park bench that wasn’t under a tent. The late July sun was fading and a star and planet poked pinholes in the great celestial dome here and there. Torches were lit at the ends of every tent, and park lamps flickered on as usual, partly killing the ambiance of the torches.

The fillies that Emerald recognized from the cookie stand came running down the path past them. He noticed now that one of them was wearing a rather fine white outfit. The three were laughing at each other like they were racing, and the one in the outfit tripped over her own hoof and slid through the dirt. Her outfit was completely filthy even without this additional accident.

“Sweetie Belle!” shouted Rarity indignantly. “What did I tell you about ruining your new dress?”

“…Not to?” the filly squeaked.

“What ever will I do with you?” Rarity sighed. “Come on, take it off. If you insist on playing in the dirt, at least you won’t ruin your clothing.”

The filly pulled the outfit over her head with the look of a prisoner freed from her shackles. Emerald remembered his party hat and felt a little foolish that he had been wearing it the whole time. He considered taking the hat off.

He left it where it was.

“I remember you!” said Sweetie Belle. “You were with Twilight.”

“That’s true,” said Emerald. “How did getting your cutie marks go?”

All three turned their flanks toward him.

“Not one cutie mark within a thousand-mile radius,” said the tomboy.

“I was sure we had it that time,” said Apple Bloom. “Scootaloo was like a pro with the lockbox.”

Scootaloo, the tomboy, hung her head.

“You know, girls, I don’t think you ought to stress out over it,” said Emerald. “I didn’t get my cutie mark until I was quite old.”

“How old?” said Sweetie Belle.

“Much older than you.”

“How’s that supposed to cheer us up?” said the exasperated Scootaloo.

“You’re right,” Emerald laughed. “I said it wrong. What I meant is, it’s not a matter of time, or of trying everything you can think of. It doesn’t matter what you do. What matters is that you love what you do.”

The fillies stared at him with large eyes.

“I don’t get it,” said Apple Bloom.

“Yeah, that doesn’t help,” said Scootaloo.

“Guys,” Sweetie Belle said, “I think he means that if we do what we love, we’ll get our cutie marks!”

“Oh yeah!” exclaimed Apple Bloom. “So, what do we love?”

“I like ice skating,” offered Scootaloo.

“But I don’t,” said Apple Bloom. “That’s a girly sport.”

“It is not a girly sport!” shouted Scootaloo. “Take that back!”

“Girls,” said Rarity, “stop arguing and go play.”

The fillies all groaned and marched off reluctantly, but they began laughing and running again before they had taken more than a few steps.

“I tried,” Emerald shrugged. “Twilight was right, it’s best to just indulge them.”

“It was a noble effort,” Rarity said reassuringly.

“The way you spoke to that one filly—are you related?”

“She’s my sister.”

“It’s funny,” said Emerald, “when you were scolding her, you reminded me of someone.”

“Who, pray tell?” said Rarity, who was very interested now that Emerald said this.

“My wife.”

“You’re married?” said Rarity, leaning away from Emerald quite suddenly.

“Oh, no. She died a long time ago. Don’t apologize,” he added just as Rarity opened her mouth. She smiled sheepishly.

“It’s just that she was quite a neat freak,” Emerald continued. “She always obsessed about keeping me cleanly and presentable. But that was a very long time ago.”

“Can I ask you something?” said Rarity. “Why do you hide your—”

Emerald shot her a fastidious look.

“—your wings?” she whispered.

Emerald sighed.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she went on to reassure him. “Your secret is safe with me. But why?”

“It’s more complicated than it seems. It’s not as if you’re the one I’m hiding them from. This world may finally be safe for alicorns, but it’s still not safe for me.”

“Unsafe?” said Rarity doubtingly. “How could it be unsafe for you to be an alicorn?”

“The truth is—” Emerald gulped.

“The truth is,” he said again, “I’ve been pursued by somepony for a very long time. He’s very powerful with magic, and he finds me wherever I let my secret slip. He has destroyed more than one of my homes with barely enough notice to escape. He’s been pursuing me for six hundred years.”

“How is that possible?” she said.

“I’m making my throat sore from talking,” Emerald said. “I’m going to get a glass of punch, would you like some?”

“Oh yes, thank you,” said Rarity. “I’m absolutely parched.”

“Wait here,” he said. “I’ll come back with it.”

He trotted off into the crowd. Some light dance music had started to play at sundown, and many ponies were instinctively moving their bodies to the beat, others were dancing blithely. He hid behind them as he ladled punch into two cups. From his saddlebag he extracted one of the vials of forgetfulness potion. Carefully he made sure he was hidden from Rarity’s view, then he emptied the vial into one of the cups.

Emerald peaked through the crowd before returning. He saw Rarity checking her teeth in a pocket mirror and chuckled to himself. Always her tidy attention to detail reminded him of River Rose. He was beginning to enjoy her company; certainly he had had fun with her today. He wondered whether she would be the same toward him after she had forgotten his secret? Was it not his confidence that made her open with him in turn?

But no, he thought, I cannot let myself want it. River Rose is gone.

He trotted back to her, and she shoved her mirror into a pocket embarrassedly. She turned her fake eyelashes on him, and he felt a familiar twinge in his heart as he caught her blue eyes, her flushed cheeks, her carefully curled mane.

He caught his hoof on a rock and tripped. Both glasses of punch spilled at Rarity’s hooves.

“I’m so sorry!” Emerald said quickly. “I’ll get two more.”

“Could you get me a ginger ale instead?” said Rarity. “It’s better for a dry throat than punch.”

“That’s a good idea.”

Emerald left and returned with two bottles of ginger ale. He popped the caps off in front of her and sat down. They drank in silence for a few moments. Emerald feared he would regret letting her keep his secret, but he knew it was the right thing to do.

“There you are!” a voice cried out. Twilight approached with Spike and Applejack. “We’ve been looking for you all afternoon. Why’d you wander off?”

“Oh, something caught my eye,” said Emerald, “and then I met up with Rarity.”

“We came to get you for the cutting of the anniversary cake. Somehow the fireworks have gone missing, so we have to skip them.”

A dreadful tightness came over Emerald’s gut, and his face became wet with cold sweat.

“We have to get everyone out of the park,” he cried. “It isn’t safe.”

Before any of them had time to question him, a deafening explosion sent fireworks streaming into the park like missiles. Many tents caught fire; a mare lay injured across the path with a younger stallion trying to tend to her.

Another large explosion, and more flares like cannon fire that set the park ablaze and knocked guests unconscious. Emerald maintained a barrier spell around his companions. He kept a lookout for the source of the fireworks, but there were no more explosions.

The silhouette of a sturdily built stallion appeared atop a hill in the direction of Ponyville. In the dark not much could be made of the figure, but as he slowly stepped toward Emerald’s barrier spell, he walked under the light of a lamp. He was completely covered in black cloth from head to hoof. A hood covered his face completely, but for a portion of his jaw that stuck out at the bottom, which appeared to be covered by a porcelain mask.

A tube of fireworks floated to the hooded stallion’s side, took aim at Emerald, and was set off. The projectile whistled toward the group and collided with the barrier. It exploded on impact, sending sparks in every direction.

“Yer barrier wasn’t that strong the last time we fought, Emerald,” said the stallion.

His voice was deep with age, his accent almost Appleloosan; Emerald recognized it immediately. His mask—the top half still covered by his hood—bore red lines along its contours like war paint.

“Yet you haven’t become any less cowardly, Spade,” Emerald spat.

“Oh, I don’t think I’m the coward, of the two of us,” said his enemy. “When I hide behind my mask, you hide behind yer barriers. And which one of us, I reckon, is the fondest of erasin’ ponies’ memories to save his hide? How long till you was a-planning’ on erasin’ theirs?”

“What does he mean, Emerald?” said Twilight.

Emerald ignored her.

“I’m done running from you,” he shouted at his foe.

The attacker laughed heartily through his accent and broke into a terrible hacking cough.

“Y’always was the kidder, Emerald,” he said. “I think what you means is, y’all ain’t got no place to run this time.”

Two more tubes of fireworks appeared at the stranger’s side and went off aimed for Emerald’s barrier. He kept it strong for the impact and weakened it to let a counterattack through. His enemy summoned a barrier and dissolved the attack unharmed.

“His magical signature,” Emerald muttered; “it’s become exactly like mine.”

“What does that mean?” said Twilight.

“Alchemy!” he shouted back.

The stallion pulled back his hood. Even with the mask still on, Twilight started: the stallion had no horn. He pulled his mask off, and cold, green eyes stared down at the five companions in the barrier.

“You should have died six hundred years ago,” Emerald said.

“Who is he?” Spike shrieked.

“I’m the ghost of his nightmares, little dragon,” said the stallion, “come back from the dead to take his soul.”

Spike whimpered.

“Stowaway Spade!” Emerald said.

The stallion on the hill smiled wickedly. A wispy grey mane hung over his face. His coat was nearly as black as his outfit with two or three spots of white above each eye, and on the edge of his left eye a bright white scar extended to his ear, and was divided by a second scar that made a cross on his temple.

“Will someone please tell me what in the hay is goin’ on here,” Applejack yelled.

“Yes,” Rarity agreed, shaking. “How can an Earth pony be using magic?”

“It’s because he isn’t using unicorn magic,” said Emerald.

“First time I came to get my revenge on you,” said Spade, “you got my comrades sealed up nice and tight, but you didn’t get me. Nossir, you reckoned if you hid yerself long enough, I’d be gone and that’d be the end of it. You fled like a yella’ coward, and left yer lab for me to take.

“I learned yer time magic and kept my body young these six hundred years so I could master all yer spells, and getcha when I was strong enough to take ya. Now I’ve come to avenge what I’ve lost.”

“Who are you to talk about revenge?” Emerald shouted so loud his voice cracked. “You killed my wife over your silly Earth-pony supremacy!”

“And you took my entire family in return!” Spade bellowed.

Their anger put a horrifying chill in the air for all around. Party guests were cowering under benches and picnic tables to hide from the attack, too afraid to run into the open to escape.

“You didn’t take ‘em from me,” Spade continued. “You took me from them. I woke up one day, separated from them by two thousand years. Everyone I ever loved, dead to dust. It was a fate worse than death.”

“I designed it that way, Spade,” Emerald barked. “The only punishment worse than death is immortality.”

“If you won’t come out of yer bubble,” Spade interrupted, “I might get bored and find me another playmate.”

A firework floated to his side. He aimed it at a small family trembling under an elm tree and set it off.

Emerald dissolved the barrier spell and shot the firework down with his magic. Spade did not miss the opportunity: a powerful bolt of lightning erupted from the ground at his hooves and hit Emerald in the shoulder. The bleeding was tremendous. Emerald could no longer support his own weight and fell to the ground.

With all his energy he prepared his sealing spell and took careful aim; but he was woozy and the seal went off course, hitting Spade in his left hind leg.

Spade lost his balance and fell on his side, cursing Emerald Alembic. He pulled himself back up and fired another spell. Twilight jumped in front of Emerald and shielded them with her magic.

In one sudden motion a chariot pulled by two purple-clad Pegasus stallions appeared in the night sky and descended upon the park. It landed directly beside Emerald, who had fallen unconscious.

“Princess Luna!” Twilight exclaimed.

“The Princess of the Night!” said Spade.

Immediately Stowaway Spade began to retreat. The going was slow: his hind leg was completely paralyzed by Emerald’s sealing spell.

“After him!” cried the Princess.

With her two guards she pursued the culprit over the hill, but when they reached the top they were overlooking Ponyville, and Spade had disappeared.

VIII. Fireworks

Emerald came to beneath one of the canopy tents in the park. His shoulder was already bandaged. The fires had all been put out, including the torches, for fear of an accident. Twilight Sparkle was standing over Emerald when he opened his eyes.

“He’s awake,” she called to Princess Luna.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Luna cried, running over to him.

Emerald forced himself upright and began to pull the bandages off.

“What are you doing?” said the Princess. “Your wounds must set.”

“If I do it with the bandages on, it’ll be a lot harder to take them off afterward,” he replied.

He threw the bandages onto the grass and noticed the crowd gathered around him. Mr. and Mrs. Cake were close, and they looked at him with great concern. He avoided eye contact and hung his head; after all, he was to blame for ruining their anniversary. He took a deep breath and summoned his magic.

His shoulder began to cauterize and heal. Natural lightning would have left terrible burns, but Spade’s magic cut through him like a spear. This was cold lightning, a spell Emerald had created one thousand years before. It was so formidable because it took so long to heal naturally. But with time magic it took only a few moments, reviving even the hair of his coat.

The party stood in awe at Emerald, and it was only at this moment that he was conscious enough to realize his cloak had been removed to bandage his wound. He panicked momentarily, and with a sigh gave up the futile effort: the secret of his wings was revealed to all, friends and strangers, and nothing short of erasing all their memories could fix it now.

“We were so worried about you,” said Twilight. “You were unconscious for almost an hour. Fifty-three minutes, actually. How are you feeling?”

“You must have a lot of questions,” Emerald said meekly.

“Somehow, yes,” she replied. “Luna told me everything while you were asleep, but she couldn’t explain the maniac who attacked just now.”

“I’ll tell you everything when I’ve rested more.”

“We understand,” said Twilight, with much compassion in her voice.

“I’m sorry, Emerald,” said Luna. “We had to bandage your shoulder. When they saw your wings they kept asking questions. I had to keep everypony calm.”

It was Emerald’s turn to say he understood.

“How did you know to come here?” he asked Luna.

“A soldier noticed someone sneaking around the castle. We assumed it had something to do with you. My sister assigned an escort to follow you for protection, and he reported to us the moment the attack began. I made great haste to get here in time to help.”

“And without you I doubt he would have retreated. Thank you.”

Luna began to blush.

“Mr. Cake, Mrs. Cake,” he continued, “I’m sorry for ruining your celebration. This was my fault.”

“N-nonsense,” said Mrs. Cake.

“Where are all the ponies who were injured? Bring them to me, I want to treat them.”

For several minutes ponies were gathered in front of Emerald and their wounds assessed. Those whose wounds were least severe were told to wait, and those who were bleeding or had broken bones were brought to the front. One colt was laid dead in front of him by a crying mare who appeared to be the mother. Emerald fought his tears.

Less than an hour, he thought.

With a piece of charred wood he drew a seal on the colt’s forehead—like a three on its belly upheld by a double-cross—and touched his horn to it. The horn glowed in a way it had never glowed before, in iridescent ripples unlike the light of any unicorn magic. The sky seemed to shine sympathetically in the same way, rippling likewise and bending the stars and moon behind it. Everyone around the colt and alicorn felt drained of their energy and ecstatic at the same time; their bodies were light and full of light; their vision was clear and their senses heightened so that they noticed everything around them.

Faster than the eye could see the mysterious rainbow light moved into the colt’s head through the seal, and his eyes blinked open.

The mother tackled the colt and bombarded him with kisses. Everyone else was silent, and Emerald sat gasping for breath.

“Next,” he called hoarsely.

A filly was brought forward with a broken ankle. Emerald healed her and called for the next pony to step forward. He did this for twenty ponies without a moment’s pause, each time becoming more and more exhausted.

“Next,” he breathed.

“There are no more,” said Luna. “You can rest now.”

Emerald collapsed on his back and forced himself to breathe slowly. All the guests were breathing quickly. They stared at him, many of them with tears in their eyes, overcome by an indescribable gratitude. The mother still clung to the unawares foal who had been given a second chance at life.

A mob mentality absorbed the group of ponies, who rushed the table where Emerald lay and hailed him as a hero. He resisted in vain until the Princess’s voice boomed over the crowd, demanding silence.

Mr. and Mrs. Cake stepped forward. Emerald hung his head.

“Don’t be ashamed,” said Mrs. Cake. “Be happy. You protected us, and you saved that colt’s life.”

“Nopony ended up being hurt after all,” Mr. Cake nodded. “You didn’t ruin our anniversary. You saved it.”

“They’re right, you know,” said Rarity, who appeared at Emerald’s shoulder.

“We would be honored if you would help us cut our cake,” said Mrs. Cake.

“And we won’t take no for an answer,” Mr. Cake added.

Emerald struggled internally for a moment and sighed. He looked up at the Cakes with a smile and agreed to help them cut the cake, after a half-hour’s rest.

They agreed.

“Meanwhile,” he said, “I’d like it if the stalls were set up again, so everypony can keep playing and try to forget this ever happened.”

Princess Luna announced that the cutting of the cake would be in thirty minutes. She, Twilight, and Rarity set about repairing all the damaged stands, gathering water for the broken duck toss game, and making new piñatas. Members of the Apple family returned to their stalls and called in customers.

The party guests did not need to be told twice. They returned to eating candies and pies and playing gaily. The music started again, and the irreparable tents were torn down to remove the memory of the destruction.

Emerald began gathering the fireworks tubes that Stowaway Spade had set off. He was setting them in a pile when Twilight Sparkle trotted up to him with Pinkie Pie.

“Pinkie Pie,” said Emerald, “were there a lot more fireworks than these?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said, “tons more!”

“We have to find them. It’s not safe for them to be hidden in the park. Pinkie, Twilight, search nearby the launch site where they were stashed, and I’ll check the bushes toward Ponyville.”

“Okey dokey lokey!” said Pinkie, who was off at a hop toward a tall paulownia that obscured a wide open plain.

“Are you sure it’s safe to go off alone?” said Twilight. “Spade ran off in that direction. What if he’s waiting for you?”

“He isn’t,” said Emerald. “My sealing spell will spread to his other leg and immobilize him for at least a week. He wouldn’t dare attack me in that condition.”

“Can I ask you something? How does this sealing spell work exactly?”

“If you’d like,” said Emerald, “we could search for the fireworks together, and I’ll tell you while we work.”

Twilight agreed and they headed toward Ponyville and walked down the paths, checking every bush and shrub and tree hollow they came across. All the while Emerald explained.

“My spell relies on sealing the vital organs,” he said. “It’s like wood frogs who freeze solid and are revived months later. The seal locks the organs in homeostasis so that the body cannot die. Then it spreads throughout the body and they are put in complete suspended animation. If done correctly, the seal lasts up to two thousand years.

“But to do this, the spell has to hit the heart. It uses the circulatory system to spread, and only if it starts at full strength in the heart will there be enough magic to seal the entire body. Otherwise it remains localized, only affecting a few areas. Hit the wrong organ, like the liver, and that organ locks up while the rest of the body goes on needing it. The pony will die within a few days if the seal isn’t undone.”

“How do you undo the seal?”

“I don’t know,” Emerald admitted. “In theory time magic would dispel it, but it would have to be so powerful that it’s impossible to experiment with it. Only the most advanced time magic would work.”

Twilight became concerned.

“Do you think Spade knows the sealing spells, too?” she said.

“He shouldn’t,” said Emerald. “I burned all the research and findings because the spell is so dangerous. It’s only last night another soul has learned my sealing spell, and they’re Royal Guard…”

Emerald broke off.

“Are those the fireworks?” he said excitedly, pointing toward some unnatural shapes beneath a shrub.

“There are more over there!” Twilight called. “We found them!”

“Great,” said Emerald, “now let’s get these back to the party and have ourselves a show.”

“Wait,” Twilight stopped short. “That’s why you wanted to find them?”

“Sure, why else?” said Emerald with a smile.

“You said it was because they’re unsafe.”

“Well, they are. If there were a fire, they’d explode. But it’s my fault the Cakes didn’t get their fireworks show, and I have to make it up to them.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” said Twilight.

The two exchanged smiles.

“Now hurry up,” said Emerald, “I want to get these set up before the cake is brought out.”

Twilight and Emerald rushed the fireworks back to the launch field. Emerald piled them together and used his time magic to restore the expended shells so he could launch them as well.

Pinkie Pie hopped back to them, upset that she was returning empty-hoofed until she saw the fireworks.

“You found them!” she said joyfully.

“Yes, Pinkie,” said Emerald. “And we’re going to set them off. Tell as many of the guests as you can, to keep everypony calm, and fetch Mr. and Mrs. Cake. But don’t tell them why,” he added almost severely. “It should be a surprise.”

“Can do!” she said, and hopped off.

Emerald and Twilight busily arranged the fireworks into rows for the display. They worked quietly, and occasionally stole glances at each other. Each was beginning to trust and respect the other, and Emerald breathed more lightly, as does anyone who has no more secrets from his friends.

At last the preparations were completed. Emerald and Twilight covered their ears and began setting off the charges.

Flare after flare whistled through the air and burst into magnificent flowers of fire. Only a handful of ponies were afraid that the attack was starting again, and they were all quickly reassured by those whom Pinkie Pie had reached. The Cakes stood and watched the display with tears in their eyes.

The flares were, from time to time, quite obviously being guided by magic through splendid acrobatic turns, and twisted into beautiful shapes once they exploded. And when the finale came, and the last of the fireworks were set off, they twisted around each other in pairs, like four great double-helixes above the park. They burst with a deafening crash. They crackled and fizzled, and in the air, written in fire, were the words:

Happy Anniversary.

Emerald and Twilight returned to the party together after the show, greeted with thunderous applause. Mrs. Cake ran up to them and hugged them both like a doting mother meeting her children at the train station. She thanked them profusely.

“Oh, it was Emerald’s idea,” Twilight said.

Mrs. Cake said many more ‘thank-you’s and wiped her eyes.

Without much delay the anniversary cake was wheeled out and Emerald Alembic helped Mr. and Mrs. Cake remove the first slice. Everyone was served and the party continued famously.

When the Moon was high in the sky, Princess Luna announced that she had to be returning to Canterlot.

“You’re expected back tonight, as well, Emerald,” she said.

“I guess I am,” said Emerald.

He looked fondly at the party guests and smiled. His heart smiled much wider than he allowed himself to express. Everypony was enjoying themselves still, and enjoying each other’s company even more. He caught Twilight’s eye and turned away quickly.

“Would you mind if we traveled together?” he said to Luna.

“Not at all,” the Princess replied with a smile. “I’ll enjoy the company.”

Emerald climbed into her carriage and the winged soldiers took to the air immediately. He kept a close watch on the Princess with the corner of his eye, but he felt too uncomfortable to speak.

“It is obvious that tonight’s attack is only a precursor to something greater,” said the Princess at last. “How much do you know about that stallion?”

“We have been enemies for millennia,” Emerald said with his head downcast.

“Who is he?”

“I would prefer it if I could rest before discussing it. It brings back many painful memories.”

“Fine,” said Luna curtly. “But I hope you know it hurts me that you never mentioned him in your story.”

“I know that all too well,” he said. “I have a habit of hurting people.”

“Don’t say such a thing,” Luna scolded him. “You may have some secrets yet, but I know you well enough to know that you’re a good stallion. You help people. Did you not spend these years healing ponies in your travels?”

“A millennium of good,” Emerald sighed, “does not undo an unforgivable crime.”

“There is nothing that cannot be forgiven in time, Emerald. Sometimes, we love the most those who have hurt us most unforgivably.”

“All the while without forgiving them,” Emerald replied cynically.

Eager to change the subject, Luna probed her mind for a new direction to take the conversation.

“You know, my sister will probably wish to involve her student, Twilight Sparkle. She is always giving her tests of strength and courage. Without these tests, her bond with her friends would become stagnant, and would not grow. And without this growth, those six would not be able to use the Elements of Harmony at all.”

“What do you mean?” said Emerald, intrigued.

“As you know, the magic of the Elements resembles the magic of the Double Harvest Moon: a growth magic. It only responds to growth. If the bearer, or in this case, the bearers of the Elements should cease to grow as individuals, or as a group, there will be no internal growth magic. I once wielded three of the Elements, and my sister the other three. Without internal growth, the magic of the Elements will not respond to the bearer. That is why it is crucial for Twilight Sparkle’s friendships to continue growing stronger.”

Emerald began eyeing the Princess in a hurt, distrustful way.

“Is there something you’re trying to say?” he said.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I was only digressing. I meant to say that my sister will most likely invite Twilight Sparkle and her friends to Canterlot to help defend you against your enemy.”

“Fine. Then I’ll tell the eight of you together as soon as they’ve arrived. Talk with your sister. If you’re wrong about her involving Twilight, I’ll tell you and Princess Celestia everything in the morning.”

“I will discuss it with her immediately,” said the Princess.

A strong breeze blew a chill between them. Funny, Luna thought, how a gap longs by its very nature to be bridged.

“I remember why I was glad to catch you this morning,” Emerald said abruptly.

“Oh?” the Princess raised her eyebrows. “And why was it?”

“Even a journey of just one day,” he smiled, “can be unpleasant if our friends don’t see us off.”

Luna blushed, and Emerald too became very conscious of the wind blowing between them. He remembered an old saying: ‘The winds of heaven dance between us even as we unite.’

They passed the remainder of the journey in silence. Emerald Alembic nodded off and slept against the Princess until they reached the palace. He blushed uncontrollably when she woke him.

They entered the castle, passed through several corridors, climbed the stairs of the Watchtower, and Emerald parted ways with the Princess at his chamber, where he slept soundly, and dreamed of fireworks.

IX. Stowaway Spade

In the predawn of the next morning, Emerald woke to the sound of knocking. The glow of the Sun could barely be seen to rise through the stained glass. He wrapped himself in a robe and answered, finding a royal messenger on the other side of his chamber door.

“The Princesses have summoned you for an audience,” said the messenger respectfully. “You are to appear in the Watch Room in one hour. There you will be debriefed by Princesses Celestia and Luna in the company of Miss Twilight Sparkle, after which your new position will be discussed.”

“New position?” Emerald blinked.

“I have recited the message verbatim, and there is nothing more to say,” said the messenger. He bowed deeply to Emerald and retreated backward through the door.

Emerald yawned and began preparing for his audience with the Princesses. He brushed his hair, threw his cloak over his back, and washed his face. Then he worked on his treatise at the writing desk and watched the Sun slowly push its halo above the horizon until the time for his audience arrived.

He walked slowly up the spiral steps with apprehension. From time to time he paused to stare at the tapestries in near total darkness, trying to delay his audience. He still had a story to tell, hidden truths to reveal; and even more than his own identity, he dreaded to speak the truth about Spade.

Emerald took a tremendously deep breath. Still he felt unable to get enough air to clear his mind. He sighed the breath out and started up the stairs once more.

He knocked on the Watch Room door and Princess Celestia’s voice bade him to enter. Inside, the two princesses stood at attention, and a tired-looking Twilight Sparkle was just getting up from a seated position as Emerald entered, rousing Spike from a nap. Celestia wasted no time.

“The purpose of this meeting, Emerald Alembic,” she said sternly, “is to clarify the nature of the incident in Ponyville last night. You shall reveal everything you know about the assailant to us. We will discuss the reason for my pupil’s involvement afterward.”

“Just start from the beginning,” Luna added with a contrasting gentleness. “How did you meet him?”

Emerald looked at Twilight apprehensively before beginning.

“Stowaway Spade was a pony of the Earth tribe,” he began, “long before the union of the tribes and the founding of Equestria. It was over two and a half thousand years ago that I first met him, as the leader of the group that attacked my wife and tried to steal her from me.”

Emerald could not hold back the first few tears when his memories came rushing back, but he quickly regained control of himself.

“I suppose you can see where this is going,” he continued. “When she was attacked, it was Spade who delivered the kick that eventually killed her. I never forgot the faces of the stallions who attacked us that day, and I spent decades tracking each of them down, while I waited for the flower that would fuel my research.

“Fifty years passed before I collected the River Rose on the first of the Double Harvest Moons, and I studied its magic tirelessly. Within a week I had decoded its time magic enough to engineer a spell, then several more spells in the following weeks, including the time seal. I prepared the time-reversal spell immediately; I refined it and perfected it as a ritual full of magical seals strong enough to do what I intended for it.

“I haunted the homes of each of her attackers, performing all my research hidden away in Earth tribe territory. They had all grown old in the decades that passed, and always I was paranoid that one would die and I would miss my chance at revenge. But they all clung to life, and I would use their determination to live against them. Here was my plan:

“Just as they had taken from me the pony I loved most, my only family, I would take away their families. I would leave each of them alone, separated by a thousand years from everyone they loved and cherished.

“I had perfected my time spell during the first full moon of the Double Harvest, so I only had 28 days to wait before the River Roses bloomed again. When the Double Harvest Moon returned, I made my move.

“I snuck into their village, and into each of their homes, one by one. I caught them in their sleep and teleported them far away. I readied my time reversal spell, which I used to turn them all back to newborn foals. I carefully preserved their memories, so they would remember what they had lost. This was the most vital part of my plan.

“Then I sealed them. Each one of them I froze in a seal that was to last two thousand years. When they awoke, they would find themselves in a foreign world, orphaned foals with no family, fully aware of the family they would never see again. Their memories were their suffering: their memories were my revenge.

“I did make one mistake. There was a member of the group named Lucky Lips, nicknamed Lucky Lowlife. I never could decide which name I hated more. He was the first one I attacked. He loved to gamble and drink, so he was passed out when I caught him. I cast my time spell, and once he was a foal I sealed him.

“But I had never actually used the spell before. I was inexperienced. I didn’t aim for the heart, and the seal began to shut down the infant’s organs. Watching a baby die at my hooves threatened my resolve. I tried to revive him, but the seal was a field of untouchable time magic, and time magic couldn’t help him. Desperate as I was, I went on with my revenge.

“Only one of them was any trouble in his old age: Stowaway Spade. He was still a hearty Earth pony, and he fought back. The very same cold lightning spell he used against me last night, I used to subdue him all those years ago. The wound left him near dying, but my spell brought him back to infancy and perfect health, and I completed the seal.

“It is difficult for me to acknowledge that I thought about erasing his memory. He was the only one I feared would be a threat after the seal was broken, and I hadn’t yet learned any localized memory magic. But he was the one I most wanted to revenge myself upon: where was the justice in sparing the only true villain?

“My cruelty was my doom. After the seals expired, my victims were free. They were helpless babies, and their foalhoods were harsh. Children though they seemed, I watched them closely and let myself enjoy my revenge, for in truth it was old men I was punishing. They realized their loss, they remembered me as their captor, and their old leader, Stowaway Spade, was my equal hair for hair—he plotted vengeance.

“I ought to have seen it coming. When they were grown they attacked me in my laboratory. It was difficult work fighting them off, but I managed it. I desperately wounded all of them, even Spade, who managed to escape. Did you see the scar that runs from his left eye to his ear? That was the fight where I gave him that scar.

“I knew that my time magic couldn’t return them to the age of colts again—not outside of the Double Harvest—so I healed them one by one and immediately erased their memories. First I erased myself from their memories, then I erased Spade: I couldn’t risk them recognizing him as their leader anymore. I placed a weaker seal on each of them, which will last another four hundred years yet.

“I searched around for Spade but he was nowhere to be found. I knew he was as tenacious as I was, though, and that I would not be safe unless I got moving. I packed all of my equipment, my research, my books, and moved to a new home in a small village by the sea.

“It wasn’t long before Spade found me again. Bear in mind, this was six hundred years ago. Even then, in the backwaters of Equestria, there was still a rift between Lunists and Celestials. Twilight, it won’t be difficult for you to guess what I mean by that: there were many who felt that Luna had been banished wrongfully, and thought of rebelling against the monarchal leadership of Princess Celestia.

“Spade didn’t have much trouble convincing a group of Lunists that I was a belligerent Celestial—after all, I was loyal to the Princess throughout my years, even serving in the Royal Guard under a pseudonym a hundred years earlier—and he rounded up a posse so large that even a barrier spell wouldn’t have held them off for more than an hour.

“They attacked in the night. I heard my door crash open, and I knew I had to act quickly. I immediately snatched up the journal I was working on at the time, two or three books as would fit in my saddlebag, and escaped my home through a back window. I felt so awful leaving all of my books behind, all of my equipment, but it was that or my life.

“As I expected, the house was surrounded. I fought my way through at the personal cost of an almost crippling wound to my leg. I pushed past the pain and ran as fast as I could, but the Lunists were close behind.

“ ‘Burn the Celestial!’ they cried in unison. And Spade’s voice above the rest, ‘He massacred the Lunist tribe at Asturton!’

“Now, I can honestly say I’d done no such thing. Surely this was how Spade convinced them to pursue me, and pursue me they did. A forest bordered the coastline, and it was into this forest I ran; or rather, I should say I limped quite quickly. My wounded leg bled a constant stream, and caused me such agony that I don’t remember much of the escape, with the exception—for some reason—of a bird most brilliantly white, seamless and unearthly, as if it were merely a bird-shaped rip in the heavens. I glimpsed this bird only for a moment, and my next memory was of being sheltered by a kindly old stallion in a forest cabin.

“I was so desperate to warn him I was being chased, that I must have repeated myself dozens of times in my delirium. The stallion was a unicorn, and I trusted him when he said my pursuers would not find me. I discovered later that he always hid himself with an invisibility spell. In fact, you could say his talent was invisibility, but I will not bore you with the conversations I had with him during my recovery.

“I say recovery, but I so dreaded becoming crippled by my wound that I healed it with time magic, and hid this fact from my benefactor. I pretended to be injured so that I would not need to leave. I insisted on changing my own bandages because of this, but I’m sure it did not take him long to catch on. After a week I felt safe enough to thank the stallion and leave his cabin, but not before he had taught me a number of invisibility spells.

“It was almost one hundred years later that I was first attacked by the mysterious masked stallion you saw last night. How could I have known his identity? Any reasonable pony would have assumed Spade dead of old age by then. Yet his magic was strong, and I fought as well as I could.”

“But you knew who he was,” Twilight interjected. “Before he took off his mask, you called him Spade.”

“I hid after the initial attack,” Emerald said as if he hadn’t heard her. “I hid with invisibility spells, and I did not let anyone remember me. It took the mysterious attacker thirty years to find me again. When I confronted him, he revealed himself to me. First by his voice, which I knew in an instant by the chill it sent through my blood, then he removed his mask. I nearly fainted then, seeing him stand before me a century after he should have died.

“He explained how he used my lab, my research, to master alchemy and prolong his life. He was inspired to do this by a note I left in one of my journals, where I speculated that even an Earth pony should theoretically be able to use an external magic like alchemy.

“He boasted, laughed at me, knocked me over and wounded me terribly. But he was an Earth pony, through and through, and though his channels were strong, he could not control the magic even so well as a younger unicorn could. He faltered, and I went in for the kill.

“He put up a barrier in time to block my attack, but it was too weak and it shattered. The aftershock threw him back. I’ll never forget the look of fear in Spade’s eyes: like watching a bear run panicking from a filly—it’ll make any sane pony afraid of the filly instead. Believe me when I say that was the first moment I doubted myself. I was afraid of what I was becoming. We both knew that if I was on the offensive he was no match for me, so he fled. And I let him.

“He attacked me again every few decades, always improving his offense, but always too weak to defend against me. I never showed him mercy again, but with time he didn’t need me to.

“I’ve spent all my time preparing as well, looking for a way to tie up the loose ends of my incomplete revenge. Now I fear I’m out of time. His barrier spells are too stable to drive him back now. I can’t beat him like this.”

“Alone, you mean,” came Luna’s immediate response.

Emerald’s eyes brightened.

“You’ll help me?” he said.

“Absolutely not!” Celestia roared. Her authority was immutable; even Luna seemed to cower in shame before her.

“Emerald Alembic,” the Princess of the Day went on regally, “you may have swayed my sister to your sympathy, but it is not the duty of the Crown to assist in vigilante justice. We will not help you to revenge yourself.”

“Sister, be reasonable,” Luna began.

“Which brings us to your new position here in the palace,” Celestia continued. “You will work full time training the Royal Guard to defend this castle against the enemy you have brought to our walls. That is our fee for sheltering you from him. My student, Twilight Sparkle, will be temporarily apprenticed under you, with the immediate aim of potions studies. Furthermore, you are forbidden to handle the Elements of Harmony henceforth. Is this clear, Emerald?”

“Perfectly,” Emerald replied through clenched teeth.

“Then you are dismissed,” said the Princess.

“You have such kindness in your eyes, Your Highness,” Emerald said. “Why do you hide it behind such belligerence?”

“It is my kindness that refuses to allow you to make a mockery of the laws of Nature. You will not toy with lives so long as I raise the Sun. Oh, and Master Alembic,” she added with that condescending address, “please refrain from teaching my student anything unethical.”

Princess Celestia marched from the Watch Room alone. Emerald was left there, seething with frustration beside Luna and Twilight. Spike had resumed his nap.

“He’s not stupid enough to attack the palace,” Emerald said, nearly growling. “You saw how he ran from you, Luna. He’s afraid of you and your sister: alicorns powerful enough to move heavenly bodies. There’s no point fortifying the city against him.”

“I’m sorry that you can’t study the Elements anymore,” Luna said with her usual tenderness. “But we could—”

“No, no,” Emerald shook his head, “I don’t need the Elements anymore.”

Luna cocked her head in surprise.

“What do you mean?” she said.

“I only had to handle the Elements for ten minutes to know they’re worthless. They’re only a tool. There was something you said last night, Luna, about internal growth magic. I need to investigate in that direction.”

“Are you saying the Elements of Harmony are powerless?” said Twilight, desperate to be included.

“In the way a water pipe is powerless,” Emerald sighed. “No one thinks pipes make water, do they? Modern unicorns should know better. Jewels cannot be magic, they can only harness it. Where from? That’s the mystery. And the technology is how the magical channels are shaped and sized.”

“Do you think you can replicate the channels?” Luna suggested. “Create new Elements?”

“No, that would be reckless,” Emerald said. “I studied the channels in the Elements, and they aren’t complex. It’s a simple magnifying charm, not even magical—it uses the cut of the gem to amplify the magic as it passes through. It’s pure geometry.”

“Like alchemy,” Luna said.

“Precisely. External magic. The right combination of seals should replicate it.”

“But there’s more to it than that,” said Twilight.

“How do you figure?”

“The jewels in the Elements all resemble my friends’ cutie marks. Mine, too.”

“Oh, that’s obvious enough,” Emerald replied. “Rarity’s, a five-faceted diamond, indigo like her mane; yours, a six-pointed star. It’s no coincidence, but you’re thinking about it wrong. In truth, the Elements of Harmony have no physical form until a bearer comes forward to claim them. In the ancient days when a single alicorn could bear the Elements on her own, all six Elements took on a single shape. When they were passed on to the next bearer, their shape changed. Always the cut of the gems is tailored to the one who bears them.

"Thus, in the case of your friends, the shape of their Elements is not symbolic of the Elements themselves, but is a way the Elements are altered so that a new bearer can use them. For this reason they are always depicted as a sextet of hexagonal-cut gems, rather than any specific shape they've assumed throughout history.

“The fact is, the Elements of Harmony only amplify the internal growth magic of the bearers. That seems to be their only function. Magic, for instance, is the Element closest to the source, the one element that has to be in harmony with the other five to work. Twilight, that’s why your ability to wield your Element depends on your strong friendships.”

Twilight and Luna nodded knowingly.

“It’s all symbolic,” said Luna. “Just as your feelings toward your father become your feelings toward stallions in general, the closer you are to the bearer of Honesty, the more you embody Honesty itself.”

“Exactly. And because it’s symbolic, the physical drama of it never actually needs to occur.”

“Do you mean,” said Twilight, “that I don’t need my friends to wield the Elements of Harmony?”

“What I’m saying is that the nature of time is change; and the nature of change is growth; and the nature of growth is magic. A pony must be so fully absorbed in life that every tiny change is accepted, appreciated, not struggled against—in other words, Inner Harmony. Only such a pony can use all the Elements by herself.”

“Celestia,” said Luna.

Emerald nodded gravely.

“She’s the only pony in generations who has used the Elements on her own,” he said. “Only an alicorn is capable of it. Only an alicorn has seen ages come and go, and learned to let go and flow with the seasons of change. Old legends call alicorns the Masters of Harmony. You could say the Elements are a locked door, and total detachment is the key.”

“I don’t think it’s fair to call my sister detached,” Luna argued.

“Look at it as an insult if you must, Luna, but for now the only insult is that there is no chance of having her help.”

“I don’t think she can help, either way,” said Luna. “Nowadays we rely wholly on Twilight Sparkle and her friends to wield the Elements of Harmony, because my sister is no longer connected to them.”

“That's what Princess Celestia said when we were fighting Discord,” said Twilight. “I don’t understand. How could that happen?”

Luna shook her head. Emerald sighed deeply, a look of disappointment hanging heavily on his face.

“I feared that might be the case,” he said. “Inner Harmony requires acceptance and detachment. The last time Celestia wielded the Elements was to seal you, Princess, am I right? No doubt she has suffered from the guilt. She lived with her decision for one thousand years, growing less and less sure of herself over time. If she could not forgive herself for what she did to you, it would be impossible for her to harness the Elements of Harmony. At least that is one possible reason.”

Luna hung her head as if she had been scolded.

“For the moment,” Emerald went on, “I’ll have to resign myself to my duties. Miss Twilight Sparkle, it seems you’ll be my apprentice until further notice. Are there any specific potions you’re supposed to learn?”

“Princess Celestia wants me to study healing potions,” she said eagerly, “but to be honest, I’d much rather learn alchemy. It’s sounds so interesting, so—”

“Woah, now,” Emerald interrupted, “don’t get ahead of yourself. If you can’t brew a decent potion, you won’t understand alchemical equations.”

“Is it that difficult?” asked Twilight.

Emerald shook his head, uncertain of how to answer.

“Ordinary unicorn magic is like a math problem. This is why intellectuals like you are better at it than others. It’s a riddle, an equation that must be followed through correctly each time it’s used. The concentration required can be intense when you’re first learning a spell.

“Alchemy, on the other hand, is a recipe. Similar concept, but it’s the yin to the yang. Magic requires logic and abstract thought, alchemy requires symbolism and imagination.”

“Imagination?” Twilight blinked.

“The reasons are pointless to explain, but in summary, you have to imagine each ingredient—each symbol—so vividly, that it’s like experiencing it for real. Sometimes, an emotion is one of the ingredients. You haven’t had a bad day until you’ve come across Guilt on an ingredients list.”

“To think of emotion being necessary for a spell,” Twilight mused, “it’s surreal.”

“At first. You’ve mastered your intellect, but you’ll have to master your entire being to use alchemy.”

“Kind of like using the Elements of Harmony?” Twilight smirked.

Emerald was dumbstruck; he stood and thought silently until he was snapped out of his reverie by Luna’s voice.

“I’ll be going to bed now,” she said, stretching her wings and yawning. “Do your best, Twilight Sparkle.”

“Thank you, Princess,” said Twilight.

“Sleep well, Your Highness,” said Emerald.

Twilight and Emerald bowed and left the Watch Room together. The Princess of the Night fixed her eyes on Emerald Alembic with a fond gaze. She did not stop staring until the door met its jamb with a loud crack of the wood.

She shut herself up in a small rotunda recessed into the walls of the tower, closed it off with thick, dark curtains, and fell asleep, begging not to dream.

X. Luna's Dream

Emerald Alembic spent the rest of the day guiding Twilight through the process of mixing potions, answering her questions about alchemy, and bonding with his new pupil. He smiled on occasion at the way things had turned: not a week before, Twilight Sparkle had been a tool, a way of earning the confidence of the Princesses, and now she was his first student.

“Is it true what you said?” Twilight asked him during their last round of experiments.

“Is what true?” said Emerald.

“Can you really use the Elements of Harmony without…I mean—without the Elements?”

Emerald chuckled.

“Well, I can’t. But the Elements aren’t the jewelry. I thought we went through that. You’re the Element of Magic as much as that crown is.”

“So it is true?”

“Yes, more or less. It’s just a matter of designing the seals to imitate the jewels.”

“How do seals work, exactly? Why do you use them in alchemy?”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were too inquisitive,” Emerald sighed. “A great stallion once said, ‘Architecture is frozen music.’ Do you know what that means?”

Twilight shook her head.

“It means that every building is a piece of music: this one a symphony, this a ballad, this a polonaise. Harmony in architecture follows the same principles of relationship as harmony in music. Well, seals are two-dimensional architecture, flattened music. They say music is the language of the soul—well, it’s certainly the language of nature.”

“I still don’t quite get it,” she laughed.

“You will,” Emerald said through a patient smile. “To drive the point home, have you noticed how certain music makes you feel balanced and happy, while other music makes you inexplicably sad?”

She said that she had. Emerald nodded approvingly.

“I once heard a piece of music,” he said, “that gave me the unbearable urge to apologize. ‘I’m sorry,’ ran through my head whenever it played. ‘So, so sorry,’ I’d whisper. ‘Please forgive me.’”

“That’s odd,” said Twilight.

“That’s how specific the language of music can be. The Elements must, in some way, respond to musical harmony, like all emotions and ideas. Certain phrases in music can invoke feelings of happiness, yes, but people ignore the fact that it can invoke other feelings and ideas. Ideas like Kindness, Loyalty, or the desire to tell the Truth.”

“You’re saying that the seal plays a song, a geometrical song, that invokes a specific idea, and unicorn magic makes that idea a reality?”

“My, but you do catch on quick, with the right nudge,” Emerald smiled. “You’re much sharper than I was at your age. But then, I haven’t been your age for a very long time.”

A flask on the table began to bubble over.

“What’s it doing, Emerald?”

“It’s normal,” he said. “That means the bramble has finally incorporated into the whitethorn. Now comes the important bit: you have to add the winter cactus juice to the foam, then combine the two mixtures. Do it now, skim the foam off.”

Twilight did as her master said, dexterously mixing ingredients, stirring, swirling, shaking, aerating, boiling and freezing the mixture until her brow was dripping with sweat and Emerald told her she was done.

“Will you tell me what it is now?” she panted.

“Certainly,” Emerald laughed. “It’s your first healing potion, just like your teacher wanted. You do remember the process, right?”

“Of course,” she said brightly. “I have a very good memory.”

“I’m sure you have,” Emerald smiled. “Now drink it. Don’t worry—” he took a sip straight from the flask—“it’s safe. This potion is especially good for the brain. It gives your mind a massive burst of energy to build strong memory paths. Tomorrow morning you’ll remember every detail of today, even things you thought you hadn’t noticed—like the birds on the walnut tree outside the window.”

Twilight glanced over at the stained glass likeness of Princess Luna. There was nothing: it blocked out every detail of the night.

“Emerald, there’s nothing there,” Twilight said sheepishly, feeling like the victim of a prank. Emerald simply smiled to one side, a condescending glint in his eyes.

“Oh, don’t worry, you’ll see them,” he said. “Call it a gift from me to you. The first step of alchemy is opening the senses. That potion will show you everything your mind tunes out, all the wonders of life that you think you’re too important to care about.”

“You’ll teach me alchemy?” Twilight said, almost shouting. She glowed with excitement.

“Not so loud!” Emerald said. “Yes, I’ll teach you your first spell in the morning. Plant magic. Remember it?”

“Of course!” she whispered quickly.

“Look forward to it. Now, drink this and off to bed with you. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Twilight sipped the bitter potion and thought twice of it. Then she gulped it down quickly without thinking. It seemed to do hurdles in her stomach, but when that died down she felt no different, and was reassured.

She said goodnight to her new master and left his chamber. On the way down the spiral steps she met Princess Luna, pacing from wall to wall in front of one of the tapestry-covered windows. The Princess abruptly stopped pacing, but her body was shaking.

“Oh, T-Twilight Sparkle,” she stammered.

“Is everything all right, Princess?”

“I-I’m fine,” said Luna.

“You look pale. Did you sleep badly? Maybe you should see Emerald about some medicine. He taught me my first healing potion today!”

“That’s wonderful, Twilight Sparkle,” she said in a nervous voice, trying to sound sincere. “Perhaps you’re right. I could use something to calm me down.”

“Okay. Well, feel better Princess.”

“Thank you, Twilight.”

Twilight trotted the rest of the way down the steps, though her concerns for the Princess’s health lingered with her as she made her way to her room. Above Luna waited until she could no longer hear hoof steps, then started up toward Emerald’s chamber.

Her dream was haunting her like a nightmare. She felt like a little filly, dreaming of a monster in the closet, never content until the closet door opened and dispelled the illusion.

She knocked hesitantly on Emerald’s door, her knees knocking together with anticipation. Emerald answered, and she nearly toppled him when she pushed the door open and rushed into the room. Emerald cried out in alarm.

“What’s the matter?” he said. “Are you all right? Has something happened?”

“Shut the door.”

Emerald obeyed.

“I keep dreaming of you,” Luna said, shaking. “I don’t understand it, I’ve never understood it, it’s so strange. I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m flattered,” Emerald said with a lighthearted laugh.

“This is not funny, Emerald Alembic!” Luna roared. Suddenly Emerald agreed.

“It has been going on since the night we met. Every day, I dream you’re falling, and you fall onto ice, and you’re cold—so cold I can’t hold you. There is a blur, a black blur, above us. I hear laughing, but it’s nowhere, and it’s everywhere. I’m laughing, and you’re so cold. You aren’t moving, and I’m laughing. And my sister is angry at me, so angry, and Twilight Sparkle, and everyone. So, so angry. They chase me and I run. I come to a cliff. The snow avalanches down, and I follow it, tumbling through the snow, fading in and out. I can’t see; everything is white. I see a white bird on a white cliff. I know I’m dying, but it feels okay because the whiteness goes away and I see you again. Every day, it’s always the same.”

Emerald stared at Luna blankly for a moment. He was surprised at all this. He could think of nothing productive to say.

“The same dream?” he asked tentatively.

“Except for one thing.”

“What? What is it?”

“Tonight, the black blur was Stowaway Spade. And he was leading the crowd that chased me over the cliff.”

Emerald took a deep breath. He saw how anxious Luna was, sweat drenching her forehead, her body trembling with terror.

“It’s just a dream, after all,” he said gently. “Why are you letting it bother you?”

“It’s not j-just a dream,” Luna urged. Every so often, Emerald heard the click of her teeth chattering. “Ever since I was a f-filly, I’ve had dreams, and they’ve come true.”

“You mean prophetic dreams?” said Emerald.

Luna nodded.

“Have all your dreams come true? Every dream you’ve had?”

“Sometimes I have normal dreams,” said Luna, trying to be patient with him. I knew he wouldn’t understand, she thought. No one ever understands.

“How do you know this isn’t a normal dream?”

“I know,” she said, throwing Emerald a look that told him not to press the matter.

“I don’t know what to make of this,” he said weakly. “Is your dream saying I’m going to die?”

“I don’t know,” said Luna, clutching her head between her hooves. “In the dream you’re only cold. You won’t move. It’s never clear which parts of the dream are literal, or how they’ll actually occur.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” Luna huffed, “my sister could become angry with me, or she could become very angry over something that concerns me. It means you fall cold, but there is no way of knowing how or to what end. The cold and snow don’t even mean that’s how it happens. It’s all a tangle of metaphors and symbols,” she said, starting to breathe very heavily. “I’ve never been able to make sense of it.”

“Which means you’ve never been able to prevent it,” said Emerald.

Luna nodded quickly. She sat on the floor to keep from pacing, and started to cry silently. Emerald approached her and put his hoof on her shoulder. She jumped and hugged Emerald, holding him so tightly it was hard for him to draw a breath.

“I don’t want you to die,” she sobbed.

Emerald rubbed her back to comfort her, almost finding humor in his composure.

“We’ll figure something out,” he said. “In the meantime, we need to calm you down. I’ll make some tea—how does that sound?”

Luna gave an indistinct whimper that Emerald took as confirmation. He gently pried the Princess’s hooves off him and conjured a tea kettle, which he placed over a flame to boil. He walked over to a locked chest by the writing desk and took a handful of herbs from one of its compartments, crushed them in a mortar, and put the leaves in two porcelain teacups.

A pair of plant stalks, thick at the stem and covered with large, coarse leaves, lay on a table near Erlenmeyer flasks, half-filled with unfinished potions, green, blue, or red fluids beginning to froth or crystallize. He plucked a leaf from one of the plants and offered it to Luna.

“Chew this,” he said. “It will help with the tremors.”

The Princess took the leaf and chewed slowly, grimacing at the sensation it caused in her sinus. By the time the kettle whistled, she had stopped shaking and was breathing slowly, calmer than she had felt in days.

“I’m feeling much better now,” said Luna. “I don’t think I need that cup of tea.”

“Yes you do,” said Emerald. “It’s a special herb from the western mountains. Bad dreams cause knots in the heart. This tea unties them. Besides,” he added, “the best property of any tea is that it gives two ponies time to talk.”

Luna let herself smile, and Emerald served their tea on a small coffee table.

They spent the next five hours chatting loudly. They talked about the way things used to be, the way dozens of kite vendors would set up rival stands in the parks, parks that smelled of maple sap—and wasn’t there always that smell of peaches underneath? During the Summer Sun festival, dozens of dishes made of peaches would be eaten to celebrate the start of summer.

They talked about their teacher, Star Swirl the Bearded. They joked and laughed about his mannerisms, how he always started his sentences with, “Do you know,” even when it didn’t make sense—especially when it didn’t make sense. They reminisced about conversations each had had with him, lessons he had taught them, journeys they had made together. They talked about how much they missed him, how much trouble they both had letting him go.

Emerald told Luna all about the way things were during her banishment: city life, provincial life, the way things changed and the things that never did; fashions decade by decade—how she should have seen the dresses mares wore seven hundred years ago! Put bells on them, and they’d have been the spitting image of Star Swirl!

Birds began to sing outside, calling the pair’s attention to the rest of the world. The sky was a deep navy, and the cool morning breeze blew dew onto their faces. It was time for the sunrise.

“I have to go,” Luna sighed. “My sister needs me to lower the Moon.”

Emerald began picking up, but Luna did not move. He cleaned up the teacups, and the crumbs from the cakes they had broken into when they got hungry, and wiped off the table. Luna sat still and let her eyes follow him around the room until he sat down again. The sky was lighter now, and a second wave of birds had woken up.

Emerald repositioned himself beside Luna and held her hoof.

“It was just a dream,” he said. “I promise.”

“Sure, Emerald,” said Luna. She forced a smile.

“Now, you’d better go lower the Moon. We’ve both got duties to see to.”

“You look so tired,” Luna said with a soft laugh. “I hope you’ll be able to teach your student tomorrow.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said, “I always sleep well.”

“Sorry. I sometimes forget that others go to bed when I’m waking up. I got carried away.”

“Maybe I should become nocturnal, too,” Emerald winked.

Luna didn’t respond. She stared at the window, studied her own image in the glass, hung her head, drew a figure-eight with a bead of water that clung to the table from the last round of tea.

“Do you think this is the last time we’ll talk?” she said at last.

“Don’t talk like that,” said Emerald firmly. “We’re friends, and friends don’t abandon each other, do they?”

“Friends abandon each other every day,” said Luna, starting to cry.

“Not this time. We’ll find Spade, rout him out, and that’ll be the end of it.”

“I hope you’re right,” said Luna.

And so did Emerald. He hoped he was right. All he could do was hope.

* * *

That night, in one of Canterlot’s gated neighborhoods, where lived the most privileged of the city’s number, and the highest ranked of her soldiers, a shadow passed unnoticed into a stuccoed house adorned with rose bushes. There the shadow stole through the marble halls, avoiding vases and busts, putting forth every effort to stifle the thud of his limp.

The living shadow made his way to the bedroom and dragged his gimp leg toward the bed. He stood over the stallion who lay there sleeping. Without waking him, the shadow gently poured a potion down the stallion’s throat, rubbing lightly to ease the liquid into his stomach. The sleeping stallion’s body quietly accepted the medicine, swallowing on reflex.

The shadow shook him awake.

A panic overcame him; all he saw was darkness.

“Who’s there?” he cried out into the dark room.

A lamp fire flickered on by the nightstand and enveloped the shadow in light.

The stallion recognized the figure immediately—his description had made its way to every palace guard by the previous morning: the spots and scar about the eye, the useless leg, the jet-black coat.

“Stowaway Spade!”

The stallion pushed himself up in bed, shaking the bedstead and knocking a painting of a seaside landscape off the wall. Spade’s coat was rustled, his eyes bloodshot and tired, his leg secured with a makeshift wooden splint.

“Lieutenant Whitesnout,” said Spade, his voice all the more terrifying because of its weakness. “Howdy.”

Whitesnout began to sweat.

“What do you want with me?” he said.

“Blue Swamp Lily’s just ‘bout to kick in, lieutenant. You know what that does?”

Whitesnout shook his head furtively.

“Oh, I think ya do. In three minutes y’all are gon’ tell me everything I need to know.”

“Or you’ll what?” said Whitesnout, regaining courage.

“It ain’t a question of if, lieutenant. It’s the swamp lily as does it. I got a friend, you see, loves this flower. You know why? It’s ‘cause it can wipe a stallion’s memory of very partic’ler things. He’ll forget a single pea on his dinner plate, and remember the others, if that’s whatcha tell it.

“But that ain’t why I love it. I love it because one dose of the right potion, and bam! No more secrets. That friend of mine, he loves secrets, lies his tail off. He hides from other ponies, even hides from himself. If I had it my way, this’d be a world without secrets. But hell, I can have it my way just this once, eh?”

“I’ll tell you nothing,” Whitesnout spat. “I’ll die before I compromise palace secrets.”

Spade began to laugh, coughing into the air and holding his belly.

“I ain’t after politics, y’old dolt,” he said. “You’s gon’ tell me everything you ever done wrong. You’s gon’ tell me everything you regret.”

“Excuse me?”

Whitesnout grew pale and doubled over in a fit of nausea.

“You can’t fight it,” Spade said. “Now tell me, lieutenant, what keeps you up at night? What ghosties haunt yer dreams?”

* * *

When the potion began to wear off, Spade finished his interrogation and gave Whitesnout another potion to drink. Whitesnout hesitated.

“Now, mind you, lieutenant, you disobey my orders and I won’t just have yer throat—I’ll have yer soul. Ponies don’t kill as many as you’ve killed and make it to Elysium.”

“I haven’t killed anyone!” Whitesnout shouted.

Spade snickered.

“Private Southfall would beg to differ. What was it he said to you, just afore he died?”

“Stop it!” said Whitesnout. He began to cry. “All right. I’ll do what you want.”

Whitesnout drained the potion, the purple liquid dripping from his mouth. In an instant he felt rested—as if he had been roused from bed four hours late, instead of four hours early.

“That’s a good foal,” Spade smiled. “Now, yer gonna report to Princess Celestia, and yer gonna tell her I’m dangerous. Yer professional opinion and all. Yer gonna tell her that you and yer soldiers need to be armed to attack, not just defend. The only stallion what can teach you to attack is Emerald Alembic. Be on the lookout fer his tricks.”

He slipped Whitesnout a folded piece of paper.

“That's the names of six sergeants in the Royal Guard.”

“What has this got to do with me?” said Whitesnout.

“They’re loyal to me, same as you, and now they’re all under yer direct command. When this here leg gets better, I’mma let ya know. After that, anything happens—and I mean anything happens as makes Emerald Alembic vulnerable, gather those soldiers and report to me. Got it?”

Whitesnout nodded slowly.

Painfully Spade shifted his paralyzed leg and limped out of Whitesnout’s gated home, into the dewy morning.

XI. Revenge

Once Luna had gone to lower the Moon, Emerald descended the tower to leave orders with the Guard to inform Twilight Sparkle to come in the afternoon so he could get some rest. Only two of them were on duty, both standing at ease: the night shift had spoiled their discipline.

“Up all night?” one of the guards remarked.

“Yes,” said Emerald.

“With the Princess?” said the other guard, casting a suggestive smirk through his purple bangs. Emerald’s nose felt like it was on fire.

“You shut your mouth,” he barked furiously. “I’d like to see what the Princesses have to say about whatever rumors you two are spreading about them.”

“I haven’t been spreading any rumors, sir,” the guard said, standing stiff with fear now, staring past Emerald like a soldier in a lineup.

“Let’s keep it that way, you stupid goon. While you’re at it, I am the Court Mage, advisor to the domestic division of the Royal Defense Unit, and your superior. You will address me as ‘Your Eminence,’ or you will not address me at all. Understood?”

“Yes, Your Eminence,” the two guards said in unison.

“Good. Both of you wipe those smiles off your faces for good. Deliver your message, and do not bother me unless Twilight Sparkle has arrived.”

“Right away, Your Eminence.”

Emerald stomped through the Hall, trudged up the steps of the tower, and slammed his chamber door. He leaned against the door and sighed deeply.

“How did I get myself into this?” he said to himself, dragging his hoof across his face.

The sun was just coming up. Its light was just beginning to illuminate the stained glass of the window. He lay in bed, dragged the curtains shut, and breathed in the heavy darkness for a long time before he fell asleep.

* * *

A knock announced Twilight’s arrival just after one in the afternoon. Emerald Alembic was sitting at his writing desk when she came in, finishing a draft of instructions for the Royal Guard.

A warm summer breeze blew through the open window and rustled a stack of papers, secured beneath an inscribed paperweight. Emerald stared at it now as he placed his latest draft beneath it for safekeeping.

“What are you working on?” said Twilight behind him.

“Instructions for my cold lightning spell,” he replied. “Princess Celestia came to me earlier asking me to teach the Guard more offensive spells. Apparently she doesn’t think defense is good enough for her soldiers. Woke me up from a good dream, too, just so her thugs could become deadlier.”

“Hey, my brother is the Captain of those thugs,” Twilight teased.

“Right, right,” he blushed, “where are my manners? Still, which would you rather be: deadlier, or safer?”

“She’s only doing what she thinks is best.”

Emerald huffed.

“Best!” he exclaimed. “If two thousand years of wandering across Equestria has taught me anything, it’s that ponies can’t handle power. They use whatever they have: give them one million gold bits, they’ll spend it; give them the power to kill, they’ll exercise it. A Princess should know better.”

Twilight stayed silent for a moment.

“But you’re giving them the spell,” she said. “Doesn’t that make you culpable?”

“Of course I’m not giving them the spell!” he howled. “It’s bad enough I taught them the sealing spell. No, the spell they’ll learn is a draining spell. It sucks the energy from their opponent so that he is too tired to stand, but it can’t kill. That’s as dangerous as I’m going to help someone become. Still, best to let them think they’re stronger than they are.”

Twilight smiled; she wouldn’t have admitted it, but she agreed with Emerald.

“So,” he said with a jovial grin, “how has our potion been treating you?”

“Oh!” said Twilight. She had almost gotten used to it. “It’s amazing! Do you see the world like this all the time?”

“No,” he laughed, “my senses are much more vivid. The potion just clears the pathways, like the first person to trample a trail through the forest. It takes a lot of work to clear a solid road, but when you do, information travels from your senses so smoothly, you’ll think you’re a different person.”

“But everything’s so much more beautiful now,” she said. “It’s hard to believe there’s more to see than this.”

“I’m sure that’s what you thought before this morning,” said Emerald.

“Point taken.”

Emerald sat down beside the coffee table at the foot of his bed, and motioned for Twilight to sit across from him.

“You were right,” Twilight said. “About the birds. They were beautiful nightingales.”

“I told you so,” Emerald smiled. “And now you’ll see why you need superior senses for alchemy.”

He spent the rest of the day teaching Twilight Sparkle the alchemia vitalis. By midnight she had managed it, the sweat of exertion pouring down her face in rivulets. Exhausted, she said goodnight to her master and went to bed, passing Luna on her way out.

* * *

For the next three weeks, Emerald Alembic spent his days with Twilight Sparkle, and his nights with Princess Luna.

Twilight learned quickly, managing the first four steps of transmutation in the first week, but still the only alchemy she could use was the alchemia vitalis. He had her practice with creating a large variety of plants in the mornings before she saw him, to develop her control and imagination.

In the evenings, he and Luna met and talked, always for two hours or more. It was these late nights with the Princess, Emerald would later realize, that made all the difference in teaching him to laugh, to truly bond with another pony for the first time in millennia. What a relief it was, to bare his back with a smile, and let his companion keep her memory! What a relief it was, to be free of the ghost of River Rose.

The soldiers of the Royal Guard became more skillful with Emerald Alembic’s techniques. They demonstrated well-controlled barrier spells—alchemical barriers absorbed shocks instead of resisting them, making them much more resilient; every pony ranked Sergeant or above successfully learned the sealing spell, and the First Lieutenants were the lowest rank trusted with the cold lightning spell, unaware that it was a non-lethal alternative in disguise.

The weeks passed peacefully, and Stowaway Spade began to fade into a memory. Luna’s dreams had stopped since that first night, making her calmer and more amiable as the days flowed on.

It rained every night during the last week of this blissful period, so that when the rain finally lifted, Emerald insisted to Luna that they go for a midnight stroll through the garden.

The night was clear, but the air misty. The moon hung waxing above them as they passed through long rows of peonies on either side, as white as they were pink, retreating into their buds in the shadows of rhododendron bushes.

There was a heavy breeze, so Luna and Emerald wore cloaks to keep the chill out. Luna made small talk at first, admiring the craftsmanship of Rarity’s cloak, calling attention to the chirping of the tree frogs, a sound she adored. Funny, she thought, how a change of surroundings can make strangers of close friends.

“How are Twilight Sparkle’s studies going?” she asked.

“It’s going great,” said Emerald. “I’m sure by next week she’ll be transmuting the elementals; fire, water, and all that. I know magic can summon them, but it’s good practice with the different methodologies. Besides, alchemy can control elementals, something magic can’t do. She seems excited about it all. She misses her friends, though, being in Canterlot so long. I’m letting her visit Ponyville this weekend. Of course, I had to get permission from Celestia. Both our time belongs to her.”

“What do you think of my sister?” said Luna. “Be truthful. You always sound so opposed to her. She isn’t your enemy, Emerald. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yet she isn’t my friend. You’re right to blame me for being hostile toward her, but she distrusts me, I can feel it in her gaze.”

“No one’s blaming you, Em,” Luna said; she had gotten into the habit of using this pet name with Emerald. “But I want to know what you really think of her.”

Emerald sighed.

“I think Twilight was right: she’s only doing what she thinks is best. But now half the Royal Guard is running around armed with a spell that’s deadly if you’re not precise—I still regret handing over that spell! The other half are undisciplined foals, and it’s a miracle they can climb out of their cradles every morning to go on duty.”

“Oh, Emerald, stop exaggerating.”

“I’m telling you, Luna, there’s something wrong with those Guards. You should hear the way they gossip about us.”

Luna blushed fiercely.

“What do they say?”

“It’s not important. But ponies who spread rumors spread dissent. Dissent is anarchy, and anarchy is dangerous when you’re dealing with the Princesses’ Royal Guard.”

At the end of the cobblestone path, standing in front of a grove of crabapple trees, Emerald caught sight of a vague silhouette, a solid black shape, indistinct in the sallow moonlight, wan like a blur. Emerald froze and stretched his right foreleg out to stop Luna. A chill began to suffocate him.

“Who goes there?” Emerald called out.

Silence.

“The Royal Garden is off-limits to civilians,” said Luna loudly. “If you do not identify yourself, you will be seized and arrested.”

“By who, then?” came a voice beside them.

Emerald felt ice-cold; his heart stopped beating for a moment.

Stowaway Spade emerged from between a pair of purple smoke bushes, still wearing his jet black cloak, face covered by that familiar mask. Channels were gouged in the mask and painted red, scarlet like tears of blood. The silhouette along the path began to approach.

“Y’all are surrounded,” said Spade, “so don’t try nothin’. Move and I’ll make ya dead.”

Emerald remained motionless, caring more for Luna’s safety than his own. He tried not to speak, not wanting to entrap himself into one of Spade’s provocations. He thought only of a means of escape: Could they teleport away? No. Spade never bluffed, and they couldn’t risk stumbling into one of his henchmen. In any case he could not teleport a great distance, and he could not risk becoming too tired.

“Alchemy’s so honest, ainnit, Emerald?” Spade went on, his voice adopting a superior coldness. “Straight n’ clear! Not like unicorn magic, what weasels its way around till it gets what it wants. Alchemy is what it is—just like you n’ me. You really was a genius, comin’ up with all that. Diff’rent time, diff’rent place, I’d rather ha’ liked you, Emerald. You’re an Earth pony at heart.”

“I wish you had thought that before you murdered my wife,” Emerald hissed. “Maybe you would have let us be.”

Emerald could no longer hold back the tears; they came slowly, and his knees felt weak. Did he still have all these feelings? Were they so fresh? The tears blurred his vision—who was that stallion approaching along the path?

“Now, now, Emerald, no hard feelings. You got what was yers and I what’s mine, and fair is fair. But you,” he added, growing angry, “you took what never was yers to take. You upset the balance, and that’s what I’m here to restore.”

“Balance!” said Luna. “Vengeance is not balance! Emerald—”

“Luna, for heaven’s sake, be silent,” said Emerald in a hushed tone.

“You sure know how t’ pick yer friends, Emerald, I’ll give ya that. Star Swirl the Bearded himself, and now Their Royal Highnesses. Howdy, missus,” Spade said with a feigned bow. “Y’all mind givin’ me and my friend a mite o’ privacy?”

“We will not be spoken to this way,” said the Princess sternly.

“What’s this ‘we’ stuff?” Spade laughed, coughing and sputtering over his enjoyment. “Where you from, missus? This world ain’t got no heavenly tiers as reach your Royal pride.”

“What do you want, Spade?” Emerald shouted.

“What do I want?” Spade teased. “Well, I ain’t a greedy stallion, Emerald, not like you. All I want’s what’s mine. All I want’s to get back what you took from me. And once I got it, I’ll plant a white lily on yer grave.”

“What do you mean, get back what I took?”

“Shucks, Emerald, I’m insulted. I know they say a loose-lipped stallion’s any stallion’s fool, but be warned: I ain’t nopony’s fool. I’ll get what I’m after. I always do. And I’ll pry it from yer rigid hooves.”

“Try it,” said Emerald.

“Whitesnout!” Spade called.

Emerald’s eyes were clear now. He saw the distant figure closing in faster, trotting to fulfill an order. The stallion stood next to Spade so that his face was clear even in the pallid moonlight.

“Whitesnout?” said Luna, going pale. “Lieutenant Whitesnout?”

“Promoted in the spring for sacrifice in the line of duty,” said Spade. “Do you remember what he sacrificed?”

Whitesnout hung his head with an expression of agony.

“His own soldiers,” Spade grinned.

“Mister Whitesnout,” said Luna, her voice shaking, “you are hereby stripped of your rank and privileges, and ordered to remove yourself from the castle grounds.”

“Luna, he’s not listening,” said Emerald.

“That’s an order!” she cried.

“Luna!”

Spade’s hacking laugh tore through the air in the garden, scattering birds and silencing the tree frogs.

“Kill ‘em,” Spade said to Whitesnout. “And be quick about it, too, they ain’t got but their screams, and we don’t want company.”

“Positions, soldiers!” Whitesnout barked. Within seconds a band of unicorn stallions in the dress of the Royal Guard surrounded Emerald and the Princess. Each of the six stallions wore the badge of a sergeant, announcing their ranks proudly.

“This isn’t good,” Emerald whispered to Luna. “We’re surrounded by the only ponies in the kingdom who know my most dangerous spells.”

“What do you mean?” said Luna. “They’re impostors. They have to be.”

Emerald shook his head.

“These aren’t impostors. See that one, the one with the purple mane? He was on duty guarding the Watch Tower the night you came to tell me your dream. He smirked at me. He wasn’t wearing his rank—damn night guards, no discipline. I thought he was a private.”

“Steady!” Whitesnout called in a high voice, his voice clicking with emotion.

“Lieutenant, you have no reason to do this,” said Luna.

“On with it!” shouted Spade.

“Kill the Mage,” said Whitesnout, “seal the Princess. Fire at will!”

With that, the garden was a blaze of glowing horns, flashes of magic, dancing figures. The sound of unicorn magic, like the tinkling of one thousand tiny bells, spread itself beneath the noise of stamping hooves that gave chase to Emerald and the Princess of the Night. They ducked and galloped, running from those who had sworn to guard them with their lives.

Two of the Guard were shot down by friendly fire as Emerald and Luna made their escape from the ring of guards. They writhed in agony, the sealing spell spreading slowly from a hit to the belly, facing a slow and irreversible death. Emerald winced, but prepared a barrier spell and kept running.

“They’ve got bad aim,” he shouted back to Luna. “For us, that’s both good and bad. They’re less likely to hit us, but if they do, we might as well be dead. We’ll certainly wish we were.”

“Wait!” Luna said.

“We can’t stop now! What is it?”

Luna stopped running and blasted the path behind them with magic. The cobblestones began to shift and move, climbing over each other and forming a wall from tree to tree. She took some border stones with her magic and brought them to life and gave them shape. They clung to each other magnetically, forming rigid primate bodies of thick torso and long, stone arms. The monkeys plucked the paving stones from the earth and hurled them over the wall as projectiles at the ensuing soldiers.

Luna began moving again.

“Good work,” said Emerald with an impressed smile. “I’d almost forgotten how useful your side of magic can be in a tight spot.”

Emerald caught sight of Spade giving chase through the trees behind them and increased his pace. Luna kept up easily, her long legs producing such a fluid stride that one would be forced to think she ran so slowly for Emerald’s sake. The remaining four sergeants trailed behind Spade, and Whitesnout flanked them on the left.

A blast of magic came roaring past like a pressure wave. It passed between Emerald and the Princess with inches to spare.

“What was that!” cried Luna.

“Draining spell,” said Emerald. “Run faster! Barriers are absorbed by draining spells!”

More sealing spells came from Spade’s entourage, but Stowaway himself made no effort to attack. Emerald stared at Spade as he ran. Spade was looking at him so intently, so coolly, so ready to take aim and fire. What stopped him?

Emerald fired a cold lightning spell at Spade. The spell missed, slicing down a very old maple tree on impact, and still Spade kept running. He did not retaliate.

Why, Spade, Emerald thought, why don’t you fight me yourself?

From behind him a pressure wave struck his head. He turned and saw Whitesnout’s horn still aimed in his direction. He fell.

Emerald’s face plowed into the cobblestone path. All the energy drained from him until he could not feel the pain in his face, nor in his ankle, which he felt snap during the fall.

“Emerald!” Luna shrieked. She stopped running and stood over him. “Em, you have to get up! Em, they’re coming, you have to stand!”

“I can’t,” he said.

“Are you all right?”

“At least it wasn’t cold lightning,” he smiled weakly.

“Seal the Princess!” Spade shouted from a distance.

Sealing spells rained down from the posse, flying past her, hitting trees and pavement. Luna let her barrier fall; she tried to lift Emerald onto her back to carry him, but he was too heavy to carry. She set him down. It was a struggle for Emerald to speak.

“I have to take in energy,” he whispered. “I’ll pass out if I don’t.”

“Take mine!” Luna cried.

“You don’t understand.”

“Fire now!” said Spade.

A sealing spell hit the Princess square on the side, piercing through to her heart. It worked its way through her blood to the spleen, the liver, the intestines, the forelegs and hind legs, and into her head. She fell down, cold as stone, frozen in place on the garden path.

Emerald cried out in a raspy voice. He had lost; he had done nothing. He had failed to protect his friend.

“Whitesnout,” said Spade severely as he approached, “what in the Sam Hill is this?”

He was pointing at Emerald on the ground.

“Sorry, sir, I’m not sure.”

“I told you to shoot to kill, soldier, shoot to kill.”

“But sir, I was. I was using the cold lightning spell, like he taught us.”

“That was not cold lightning,” Spade sneered.

Whitesnout glanced nervously at Emerald.

Stowaway Spade saw this and broke into one of his hacking laughs, which lasted for what felt like a minute. The numbness, the need for sleep passed through Emerald until it was a fight for life to stay awake long enough to prepare his escape.

“Emerald, you sly dog,” said Spade. “Leave it to you never to trust another soul, not even yer own guards. You know, Emerald, I’m actually glad. Truly I am. It’s better this way.”

“Better?” Emerald breathed.

“You sealed the Princess, didn’tcha? The Royal Guard heard her screams, but—shame ain’t it?—they was too late. But they caught ya, and they had to kill ya to take ya down. Best of all I get to do ya in myself, and I got five soldiers here as’ll testify you killed two of their rank, and it was self-defense on their part. Won’tcha boys?”

“Yes, sir!” the guards replied in chorus.

“You’re wrong, though, Spade.”

“How d’ya figure that, Emerald?”

“You have nothing.”

Emerald shifted his weight, revealing a seal on the stone, drawn in the blood that was still dripping from his face. He smiled to one side.

Stowaway Spade ran for cover without so much as a shout, giving no warning to the soldiers, who stood unmoving and had no time to follow suit.

From the seal a heavy torrent of magic flowed like arrows at each of the five soldiers. Another went for Spade and was intercepted by a walnut tree as he ducked behind it. The five soldiers became stiff and rose onto their hind legs, their bodies giving in to a paroxysmal fit. All the energy drained from their bodies, through the seal, and entered Emerald Alembic.

Emerald felt his strength return and tried to stand. His ankle collapsed on him and he remembered the pain. He took a moment to heal his ankle and his face, then rushed to find Spade.

By the time he ran into the depths of the garden, Spade had disappeared again. All that remained were five soldiers of the Royal Guard lying dead in the garden path; two others still dying, projecting their screams faintly but audibly into the silent night; and Princess Luna, trapped in a sealing spell, lying limp amid the corpses.

XII. Blame and Mourning

Emerald Alembic hung his head as he carried the frozen body of Princess Luna through the darkness of the garden. He had no idea how he would face the Princess of the Day, what he would say to justify his weakness. Certainly he would be removed from the palace, probably banished from Canterlot, possibly exiled from Equestria itself. And, perhaps worse than anything, he would deserve it.

He didn’t call for help: at that moment he mistrusted every member of the Princess’s Guard. He passed along the way the two guards who had been hit by sealing spells at the start of Spade’s attack. They were still alive, still yelping with pain, and a part of him pitied them. He knew he could save their lives by completing the seal. Yet such bitterness had blossomed in his heart that he walked passed them without a second glance, drowning out their agonized screams.

The palace gates looked less inviting the nearer he drew to the ornate palisade. The guards on duty rushed toward Emerald when they saw the incapacitated Princess draped over his back like a Herati rug. They pulled the Princess off Emerald’s back, questioned him fiercely, provoked and threatened him, and all the while Emerald stared vacantly at the marble pavement of the courtyard and made no reply.

The guards took hold of him when they became tired of his reticence. Emerald let them drag him through the palace gates, while an entire entourage rushed past in the opposite direction to retrieve the petrified princess. This latter group caught up with Emerald and his captors soon afterward, with the Princess of the Night uplifted on the backs of three servants, walking so closely that their flanks rubbed together with each step.

The guards led Emerald to the throne, where the Princess of the Day was pacing violently. A nervous tic absorbed every muscle in her face. She had been woken up and made aware of the incident the moment Emerald arrived.

Emerald and his two guards halted at the base of the platform before the throne, and Princess Celestia looked down at them coldly. The resentment in her eyes was unmistakable, the rage unmitigated, the sadness unrestrained. Emerald tried to hold back his tears.

“How did this happen, Emerald Alembic?” the Princess said. Her voice broke like that of a sobbing child.

Emerald bit his tongue.

“Answer me, Emerald!”

A guard rushed into the palace unannounced: it was hardly a time to adhere to formalities.

“We count seven of the Royal Guard dead in the garden, Your Highness. All of them were sergeants, except for one lieutenant, Adri Whitesnout.”

The Princess inhaled through her teeth.

“Lieutenant Whitesnout was my personal bodyguard,” she said. “What do you have to say for yourself, Master Alembic?”

“I should say…” Emerald began. “I should say you ought to choose your guards more wisely.”

“You will not toy with me, Emerald Alembic, and you will not disrespect my sister with your aloof remarks! Tell me what happened in the garden tonight.”

“We were attacked,” he said, “by Stowaway Spade.”

“You would say that!” the Princess scoffed. “What really happened? Did you lure my sister into the garden and attack her? Did you kill the guards when they tried to stop you? Why did you do it?”

“For pity’s sake, Princess, I don’t have time for your melodrama.”

“Excuse me?” Celestia shrieked. “I believe a little drama is called for when a princess is faced with her little sister’s murderer.”

The palace by then was buzzing with the ambient noise of ponies gossiping over this royal exchange. The roar was like a wall of sound. Emerald and the Princess would have needed to raise their voices even if they had been on good terms.

“She’s not dead,” Emerald hollered over the chatter. “She’s been sealed.”

“For how long?” the Princess called back.

“It’s hard to say!”

The Princess threw her head back in frustration.

“Silence!” she roared with the indubitable authority of the Royal Canterlot Voice. Like spears the sound entered ponies’ hearts and shattered the resolve of the most hardened palace guards. Everything went silent.

“Princess,” Emerald said respectfully, “there’s no way to determine how long Luna will be sealed like this. In the end, it depends upon the strength of the caster—a weak unicorn means a short duration. But there is a way to break the seal.”

“Do it,” she commanded.

“I should have said, I’m convinced there is a way.”

“Then you don’t know how?”

“I’m sorry.”

“You test my patience, Emerald Alembic. I am still not even convinced of your innocence.”

“Innocence!” Emerald shrieked. “Do you see my tears? These are the tears of guilt. Your guards are highly skilled; they are fast learners; they are made for combat, and it was seven of them against me and your sister. But that is no excuse, and I would gladly do my penance, if I were not convinced that I could better atone for my sin by repairing the damage I could not prevent.”

“You are saying my guards attacked her?” Celestia said skeptically.

“I am saying it was through her that Spade wished to avenge himself on me. That’s what he said. He wished me dead. Somehow he made your guards obey him, and they attacked. He would have had Whitesnout accuse me of sealing the Princess, and justified my murder as self-defense.”

“You speak of Whitesnout as if of a villain!” said the exasperated Princess.

“I am sorry, Your Highness, but that is the only way I knew him. It is difficult, I know, to doubt the honor of a stallion you trust. That’s how I know it’s so much easier to blame me, whom you never trusted.”

“It is difficult to blame you, Emerald Alembic,” said the Princess through clenched teeth, “precisely because I trusted you. I let my sister befriend you, and I said nothing, because I believed you cared for her.”

“I have not cared for anyone so much since you were a young mare,” Emerald said.

“Just tell me how long I have to wait to see my sister again.”

“Your guards are strong,” said Emerald, “so the caster probably managed the spell at full strength. I’m sorry.”

“How long?”

“Two thousand years. One thousand if the caster was weaker than I expect.”

“I will not lose my sister for another thousand years!” shouted the Princess. Her eyes were swollen from crying.

“I can figure out how to undo the spell, Princess, I just need time. The Double Harvest is coming up and—”

“Then do it,” said the Princess. “And do not presume to show your face to me until it is done. The details of tonight’s events will be reported to Twilight Sparkle, and will reach me through her. Do you understand?”

“Your Highness,” Emerald said softly, “I would gladly have died tonight, if it would have meant Luna’s safety.”

The Princess wiped her eyes with her wrists.

“Me too,” she said.

* * *

Emerald did not sleep at all that night. He doubted whether anyone else had managed a wink either. He imagined Celestia in her bed, a wreck of shivers and sobs, and a tightness in his chest was an intimation that he was not far off the truth.

The likeness of Luna in the stained glass window stared back at him. The resemblance was now more remarkable than ever, and every glint in the glass seemed a word from her lips, every contour was her gentle laugh. Every moment that he watched it he felt her meet his gaze, accusing him, blaming him.

He was exhausted in the morning when Twilight knocked at his chamber door and let herself in. He was still lying in his canopy bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Are you okay, Emerald?” she ventured to say softly.

Emerald made no reply.

“Princess Celestia told me about last night. I know how you must be feeling. Princess Luna means a lot to all of us.”

Emerald sighed.

“What happened last night? What really happened?”

“I wish I could go back, Twilight,” Emerald said, ignoring her.

“Go back to last night, you mean?”

“No,” Emerald shook his head, “back to the beginning, before I began this stupid feud. Do you know what I would do differently? I’d drop it. I’d let it be. I’d forgive Spade and be an ordinary stallion. Even the non-violent course of my life, to pioneer, to invent, to be extraordinary—it’s hell. Normality is a pony’s greatest gift.”

“You’re wrong,” said Twilight. “To be ordinary may be a pony’s greatest comfort, but it’s mediocrity that is a curse, one that each pony must lift for herself. Why do you think our culture is centered around finding our special talents? Nopony who knows her aptitude and is encouraged to pursue it can avoid becoming great. Only those who do not know their talent are mediocre, and only they are unhappy.”

“I am unhappy,” Emerald asserted. He still lay on his bed, letting himself be lectured by his student.

“No, you’re upset. There’s a difference, and dwelling on the past isn’t helping. You can’t change the past, Emerald, but it’s never too late to end this feud. It’s never too late to forgive him.”

“You’re right, Twilight. I can’t change the past. That’s exactly why neither of us will ever forgive the other.”

“Why can’t you let it go?” Twilight said. “You’re hurting the ponies you love, for what? So you can play cat and mouse with someone who wronged you two thousand years ago?”

“You didn’t know River Rose!” Emerald snapped. “Everyone who knew her would have led a crusade to save her life, or avenge her death. Even the great Star Swirl the Bearded created time travel spells in secret, just for her. But time vortices are unstable. The universe knows when you’re in a time or place you don’t belong, and it doesn’t take long to find you and send you back. Star Swirl realized this, so he hid his spells away so he wouldn’t give other unicorns false hope.

“Don’t you think I’ve tried to go back? I’ve tried preventing the attack, I’ve tried healing her, I’ve even tried bringing her back with me. Yet each time I went to see her, she remembered it as a dream. The timeline healed itself, treating me like an illusion. Stowaway Spade killed my wife, and there will be no peace until I stop him permanently. Nothing in Equestria will stand in my way.”

“I don’t want to stand in your way, Emerald,” said Twilight. “I want to help. You can start by telling me what happened in the garden last night.”

Emerald sat up on the bed and told Twilight to take a seat. He related to her the details of Spade’s attack, and when he was done he collapsed back onto his bed like before.

“But why would a lieutenant of the Royal Guard help attack the Princess?” Twilight said when he was quiet.

“Not just any lieutenant,” said Emerald. “One of Celestia’s personal bodyguards, the elite that are trusted to protect the Princesses from domestic threats, should the occasion arise.”

“That’s all the more reason why would he wouldn’t join Spade.”

“Unless,” said Emerald, “it were the perfect incentive.”

“What does that mean?”

“He was the second-highest ranking officer in the palace. He had a good income, respect, and all the perquisites that come with palace work. Imagine yourself in that position. The one thing you would be most afraid of is losing that position, that honor, those privileges. What happens if a stallion comes along capable of taking it all away?”

“Someone like Spade,” said Twilight.

“With the right leverage, you can bribe or blackmail a stallion into anything. With Whitesnout, I’m guessing blackmail. Whatever he had to hide, it must have been bad.”

“Actually,” Twilight said, her eyes glowing suspiciously, “I remember Whitesnout from the Changeling Invasion. He was just a sergeant then. It was only after that he was promoted to a lieutenant. I’m obligated to attend all official ceremonies, so I remember it well.”

“Do you remember why he was promoted?”

“They say he risked his life to save his subordinates. They were trapped in a building that was devastated by changeling attack. He only had time to drag one of his soldiers to safety, and it turned out to be a changeling. The changeling attacked him and hurt him very badly. He was in a wheelchair during his promotion ceremony. He got a purple heart, too.”

“When Spade attacked me, he said Whitesnout was promoted for sacrifice in the line of duty. He said it like a joke. He said Whitesnout sacrificed his own soldiers.”

“I don’t buy it,” said Twilight, firmly. “His story holds up. He was rescued from the changeling before they were expelled, by a soldier who witnessed the attack. It’s hard to believe they conspired.”

“Yet the truth may have nothing to do with it,” said Emerald. “What matters here is what Whitesnout believed about himself. If Whitesnout blamed himself for the deaths of his soldiers, if he both feared retribution and longed for it, he would have been very easy to manipulate.”

“You’re saying Whitesnout’s story was true, and he still thought he killed them?”

“Guilt is a terrible thing. It starts with blaming yourself for letting them die, and after a while you start to tell yourself you killed them. I should know, that’s what I went through with River Rose.”

“I hope you aren’t doing the same over Princess Luna,” said Twilight.

“I learn from my mistakes,” said Emerald. “Besides, I’m going to save her.”

“How?”

“Even the Elements of Harmony,” said Emerald, standing up and beginning to pace; “even the Elements are not powerful enough to break a time-locked seal without the energy of the Double Harvest Moon. I’ve worked so hard to get here before this year’s Double Harvest. I can’t stand to think I’ll miss it now that it’s so important.”

“Wait,” Twilight said. “There is a Double Harvest this year?”

“The first full moon of the Harvest falls on the first of September, and the second full moon, the Blue Harvest Moon, falls on the thirtieth. It’s extremely rare: it only happens every two hundred years or so. And if we can use the Elements during the Double Harvest, I’m convinced I’ll be able to break the seal and rescue Luna.”

“But Celestia forbade you to handle the Elements. And, call me crazy, but I think she trusts you even less now.”

“Don’t worry,” said Emerald. “I finished replicating the Elements of Harmony almost a week ago. Six alchemic seals that perform the same function as the Elements themselves. I’ve even tested them already.”

“Really?” Twilight exclaimed. “That’s wonderful!”

“Yes,” Emerald frowned, “but only four of them are responding to me.”

“Which four?”

“I was born with an aptitude for the Element of Magic; it seems being unable to keep my secret has activated Honesty; it’s because of Luna that Laughter has opened itself to me—or I to it; and Loyalty. Now more than ever, the Element of Loyalty has burned in my heart.”

“I would imagine,” Twilight smiled, “it’s because you would never abandon Princess Luna. But that leaves Generosity and Kindness.”

“I admit, in all my life I have found myself neither generous nor kind.”

“That’s ridiculous. You spent thousands of years healing sick and injured ponies. Did you ever ask for a reward, or even gratitude? You’re the most generous stallion I’ve ever met.”

Emerald cracked a sardonic smile.

“I met a wise stallion once,” he said, “who told me that Nature holds us to higher standards with our gifts than with our weaknesses. A true artist is mediocre unless he is Great, and a truly kind pony will be seen as wicked until he is kind even to his enemies. Or generous to a villain.”

“You don’t mean…” Twilight began.

“In all likelihood, the Elements will never respond to me until I manage both Generosity and Kindness toward Stowaway Spade. It’s hopeless.”

“Can’t my friends and I use the Elements to free her? There must be some way.”

“For this to work, you have to have mastered time alchemy. You’re good, Twilight, but even if you could master time alchemy by the Harvest Moon, what about your friends? I can’t even grasp how Spade managed it at all, let alone how long it must have taken him. It could have taken years.

“You are more talented than I am, but the other bearers count among them two Earth ponies and two pegasi. How will they learn advanced time magic by then?”

“Then what can we do?”

“I will save Luna,” Emerald said, gritting his teeth. “Whatever it takes, I will free her during the Double Harvest. If I have to conquer my spirit and shatter my soul to bring myself to forgive Stowaway Spade, I would do it for her.”

At that moment, a soldier of the Royal Guard burst into Emerald Alembic’s bedchamber. He was wearing a lieutenant’s pendant and the signature crested legionary helmet with his turquoise mane tucked up through the crest, standing stiffly upright. His pupils were contracted with panicked intent.

“Your Eminence,” he gasped, “come quickly! The Elements of Harmony have been stolen!”

XIII. Sparkling Crag

Emerald and Twilight followed the guard through the Temple Hall where the Elements were stored. Princess Celestia was waiting there, bathed in the iridescent brilliance of the morning sun through the stained glass murals. Both of them bowed before her. Impatiently she bid them to rise.

“What happened, Princess?” said Twilight.

“Sometime this morning,” said Celestia, “a palace guard was making his round and found that the guards of the Temple Hall had abandoned their posts. I was notified immediately to safeguard the Elements, but when I unlocked the Door of the Elements, they were already missing.”

Emerald was dumfounded at this news.

“Is there no indication of what happened?” he said.

“The guards have gone missing,” the Princess continued. “If you are correct that Stowaway Spade has corrupted any number of my guard, I am left to conclude that these, too, are doing his bidding.”

Emerald sneered.

“Indeed,” he said sarcastically. “If I am correct.”

“This is no time to fight, Emerald,” said Twilight.

“What use would Spade have for the Elements of Harmony?” said Emerald, thinking out loud. “It’s not as if he could use them. He may be skilled with alchemy, but I can’t imagine the Elements would respond to him. And what would he use them for?”

“Quite right, Emerald Alembic,” said the Princess. “The Elements can only be used to usher harmony.”

“Don’t be so certain, Princess. Only the highest order of Light casts no shadow, and that’s a light no pony ever sees. At our level, all polarized things can have their polarity switched, and the stronger the charge the less stable it is, and the easier it is to reverse. The Elements of Harmony themselves can draw the chariots of Chaos.”

“They can switch toward harmony, perhaps, but not away from it,” Celestia insisted. “As all things climb toward your highest Light their shadows wane, not strengthen. The darkness may still overtake the Elements, but they are pure, so they engender Harmony. Any Chaos that leaks from them is bound to be weak.”

“You’re forgetting, Princess, that this is when your cheap jewelry is working with the true Elements, being worked by Harmony itself. Concern yourself with Disharmony for now, because that is what’s at issue.”

“Will somepony please explain to me what you are talking about?” said Twilight.

“Disharmony,” said Emerald. “It’s only theoretical, but there are six counter-Elements, the opposites of the Elements that your friends bear, Twilight. Schools of thought are divided as to what these counter-Elements may be, but the most common rendering is this: Betrayal, Deception, Cruelty, Misery, Greed, and Contempt.”

“You seem to have put a lot of thought into this,” said Celestia.

“I have spent three millennia studying the nature of magic itself,” said Emerald tersely. “A well-made amulet is no mystery to me.”

“Did you say Contempt is the opposite of Magic?” said Twilight. “I’m not sure I follow.”

“In truth, the Element of Magic is fundamentally ruled by a pony’s ability to enjoy companionship. I kept that Element alive in me only by clinging to the memory of River Rose. Magic itself is a force of nature that unites and binds all ponies into oneness. To recognize this bond externally helps it to flow internally. In this way it controls the other Elements.

“But on a deeper level, Magic is the ability to feel a coltish wonder toward, and reverence for, the whole world. This reverence most accurately defines the Element of Magic, and the opposite of reverence is contempt. Do you understand?”

Twilight nodded.

“Contempt for others destroys a pony’s ability to form bonds,” she said.

“Exactly.”

“What you mean to tell me, Emerald Alembic,” said Celestia, “is that Stowaway Spade may be capable of using the Elements of Harmony to destroy harmony?”

“No, no,” Emerald said quickly. “For one thing, he’s not properly evil. One could argue there’s no such thing, but that only furthers the case that he’s not it. He upholds Honesty. I think one of the reasons he hates me so much is that he sees me as a compulsive liar. He isn’t greedy—he’s too practical for that. And then there’s something he said to me last night.”

Emerald paused and stared at the floor. He felt as if a weak electric shock had run through him, paralyzing him. His limbs tingled with that sensation of terror that comes on when one is startled too fiercely. Twilight spoke first.

“Emerald, what’s wrong?”

“What did Stowaway Spade say to you?” Celestia urged.

“He said that all he wanted was to get back what I took from him.”

“You mean his family?” Twilight offered.

Emerald shook his head.

“I thought so, too,” he said. “But I’ve been asking myself all night: why didn’t Spade attack me himself? He isn’t the type to sit back and do nothing. He hasn’t even used a posse to attack me since…”

“Since?”

“Since before he could use magic.”

“Do you mean he can’t use magic anymore?” said the Princess, exulting at this news.

“He must have lost it when I sealed his leg,” Emerald wondered. His mind was racing. “I never noticed such a consequence. But it confuses me. He was sealed for so long before he learned magic. If the seal took away the ability, wouldn’t it have prevented him from learning magic at all?”

“Unless the seal isn’t broken,” said Twilight swiftly, as if unthinking.

“Say that again,” said Emerald.

“Unless the seal isn’t broken?”

“That’s it!” he cried. “The seal isn’t broken. It ran its course the first time; that’s how he could use magic up till now. But this time the seal only hit his leg. I assumed because the leg wasn’t paralyzed anymore, the seal had run out, but what if I was wrong?”

“Then the seal would be doing its job until it expired in another two thousand years,” said Twilight.

“I never really thought about it, but the sealing spell isn’t designed to freeze the body: it’s designed to freeze time. It must interfere with the flux of magic during the time the seal is established. That’s why no other magic can break it. Only a massive blast of time magic can reintroduce the flow of time into the sealed body.”

“But if time is sealed around Spade, how is he alive?”

“It’s a mystery,” Emerald shrugged. “My best guess is that it’s weak because the seal was never completed properly. If that’s the case, he may even be able to use alchemy on a limited scale.”

“Enough to regain his ability to use magic?” the Princess frowned.

“Maybe,” said Emerald.

“That could be why he stole the Elements,” offered Twilight.

“Most likely. I don’t know how he’ll manage it, but if there’s one mind in all Equestria that rivals mine, it’s Spade. To be the first Earth pony ever to use magic, that kind of ingenuity is terrifying, and I can’t imagine it ends there. If we’re right, he probably knows exactly what he’s doing. And right now, he’s preparing to break my seal.”

* * *

The sun was just above the horizon when the palace guards trotted into the secluded valley, half a mile east of Canterlot’s walls. The valley was hemmed in by a wild forest of century-old redwood trees, and populated with giant, feral elk. The forest was called Glimmerwood, and the valley was anciently named Sparkling Crag. As time passed, the locals took to calling it Ursa Valley, because of the large number of Ursa Majors that called its caves home.

The unicorns were nervous throughout their journey through Glimmerwood. Legends circulated that woodland nymphs would snatch unwary stallions up, never to be seen again, if they touched the sacred redwoods with ill intentions in their hearts. They both cowered from the trees, muttering respectful prayers to the spirits of the forest.

Of the two, Storm Cloud was the most superstitious, and not one broken branch went unmourned, not one vine severed without an apology. His companion, Galeheart, was careful of brushing against the trees, but stayed in the lead, carelessly hacking through the underbrush toward Sparkling Crag.

Now and then a flash would move swiftly in the corners of their eyes, dashing obliquely around their path. In the early morning darkness they could see almost nothing but the outlines of the trees, but still they quickened their pace to escape the forest before a nymph had time to spirit them away.

As they traveled they caught themselves time and again on vines and thickets, so that piece by piece they were forced to shed their armor, the uniforms that bound their loyalty to the Princesses.

The two soldiers burst through the border trees of Glimmerwood and dropped out of breath into Sparkling Crag. Beautiful waterfalls lined the moss-covered mountainsides and pure white cliffs of chalk that climbed near-vertically into the clouds, where the peaks were hidden. Long shadows danced over the field of green and burnt-orange grasses and cast a winding river in darkness. An elk drank from the river, sinking his massive hooves into the pebble-lined bank.

“Nice of you boys to show up,” said a voice of thunder above the soldiers. They fancied for a moment that the nymphs had caught them up. Then from the shadows the robed figure of a stout stallion drew nearer, a pale ivory mask hanging from his neck by a silk thread.

“W–we brought you the Elements, Spade,” said Storm Cloud, holding out a boldly decorated wooden lockbox to the charcoal-coated stallion.

“Show them to me,” said Stowaway Spade.

Storm Cloud handed him the box and Spade opened it in one swift motion. There they sat, the five necklaces and the crown of the Elements of Harmony, glistening in the first freckles of sunlight that began to dot the valley through the redwoods.

“Fine work, that,” said Spade, “mighty fine work. Now hide ‘em.”

“How?” Storm Cloud replied.

“Reverse summons spell. Hide ‘em so only y’all can bring ‘em back. Make it a hard one, too,” Spade added. “We got Emerald Alembic to worry ‘bout.”

“The Hex configuration will hide it where it can’t be found,” said Galeheart. “The World of Shadows.”

“As long as you can bring ‘em back,” Spade said.

Galeheart performed the spell and the box of the Elements vanished in thin air. Stowaway Spade doubled over and collapsed onto his left side. He shouted in pain and held his left hind leg, rubbing it briskly.

“Med’cine!” he yelled. “Where the devil’s my med’cine!”

Galeheart reached into his saddlebag and pulled out a vial of blue potion. He handed the potion to Spade, who swallowed it greedily. Spade gritted his teeth and fought against a bout of shivers that brought cold sweat to his forehead.

“Your leg is acting up again, Stowaway, sir,” said Galeheart nervously.

“Ya think!” Spade roared.

“What can we do?” Storm Cloud offered.

“Git yerselves to the river and wash that stink off ya,” said Spade.

“Stink, sir?”

Stowaway Spade was able to pull himself up now, but his hind leg was completely numb again, just like the night it was sealed.

“That palace stink,” he said. “You wash that perfume off yer hides, and when yer finished fetch my splint for this damned leg o’ mine.”

Neither Storm Cloud nor Galeheart dared to ask him where his splint was, so they obeyed without a word and went looking for it together. When they were separated from Spade by a wall of wild bramble, Storm Cloud grew bored of searching.

“What’s the World of Shadows, sir?” he said to Galeheart.

“Don’t call me ‘sir’,” Galeheart sighed, “we’re not palace guards anymore.”

“But sir, you’re a Lieutenant, sir, and I’m only a Sergeant Major.”

“Just knock it off.”

“But what is it, then, the World of Shadows?”

“It’s a palace security measure,” said Galeheart, still poking his head around the forest looking for the splint. “A place to bury things for their protection.”

“Where is it?” said Storm Cloud.

“It’s nowhere. It’s an abyss. Nothing gets in or out, and only the elite Royal Guards know how to access it. Happy?”

“But if we don’t know where it is,” said Storm Cloud, “how do we know the Elements are safe there?”

Galeheart exhaled deeply.

“Because it’s nowhere anypony else can find it. Like this stupid splint, for instance.”

“But you said the Royal Guards know how to access it.”

“Leaping manticores, you’re thick,” Galeheart heaved. “We double lock the summoning spell so only the caster can retrieve it. It’s impossible for magic to navigate in the World of Shadows, so you have to know what you’re looking for and precisely where it’s hidden.”

“Oh,” said Storm Cloud, and a moment later: “I found the splint!”

The two stallions retrieved the leg brace and returned it to Spade, who sat sipping river water from a gourd flask. It was a triple effort to secure the brace, and Spade unleashed his full fury at every hair that snagged on the tape.

“Once the Double Harvest gets here,” said Spade through heavy breaths, “this leg won’t cause me no more trouble. I’ll get my magic back full—not piecemeal like it’s been, and both of y’all can scurry on home to yer families. Yet I’d like to see how they greet ya now,” he laughed, coughing.

“I’d like to see my wife again,” said Storm Cloud.

“Then do as yer told,” said Spade. “I ain’t yer enemy, boy, unless you make me one. But don’t think I’m happy ’bout needing you around. I’d like to see you gone as much as you yerselves.”

“Do you have family, Spade, sir?” Storm Cloud ventured.

Spade dashed his eyes from the rocky bank to Storm Cloud and stared him down for a moment, and a cruel oppressive feeling washed over Storm. Spade’s eyes did not blink, did not move, until he tore his gaze away from Storm Cloud and picked up his gourd to take a swig.

“Get in the river,” he said at length. “Y’all still stink of palace pomp.”

The guards washed up, and Spade drifted off to sleep by the riverside. He dreamed of all he had learned from Emerald Alembic’s library. He dreamed of the grand full Moon of the Double Harvest, so full of magic; he dreamed of the beautiful red-orange magic flower, the River Rose, and how Emerald’s writing always became so clumsy on that name; he dreamed of all he had almost lost, not least his hard-earned immortality. He dreamed that he would have it back.

But finally he dreamed—so cold that sweat, so harsh those shivers!—of the family he would never see again, standing beside him in Elysium, over the body of the stallion that had sent them there.

And he awoke.

* * *

Before the full splendor of the midday sunlight entered the valley—which was at that time of day called The Valley of the Firmament by the indigenous ponies—Princess Celestia’s guards had already sent a scouting party in pursuit of Stowaway Spade and the traitors who had assisted him.

The party consisted of five ponies of the Royal guard, all of them privates but for a sergeant to lead them, and two bloodhounds, following the trail of scents that Storm Cloud and Galeheart left when they made their escape from the palace to Canterlot’s outskirts with the Elements of Harmony in hoof.

The edge of Glimmerwood is a beastly sight to behold: tangles of thorns wrap themselves helically about poison vines that spread their broad purple leaves into the open like a threat, challenging visitors to breach their defensive embrace; and all around the glowing eyes of the three-clawed monkeys stare out into the fields, a terrible vision when you know that they are fruit-eaters, and enough to make one faint who doesn’t.

At the border of the forest, the privates halted. The dogs barked wildly like rabid mutts. All the superstitions and stories of their youth clouded their courage and they could go no further.

“I’m not goin’ in there,” said one in a thick Trottingham accent. “‘Aven’t you ‘eard the stories?”

“Stories? What stories?” cried another.

“They say that Glimmerwood is roamed by vicious elk,” answered a third. “They are so far detached from civilization that they cannot even speak. They drink the sap of the Agave tree, and it drives them mad. A normal elk will graze on the grasses, but these are predators. Sometimes they kill their own young fawns with no reason at all, then mourn the dead for days as if they have regained their senses and realized what they’ve done.”

“Stop it!” shouted Mercury, the sergeant. “You’re scaring Oilslick.”

The sergeant was a sturdy young colt, younger than the rest of them, but filled with the bravery of a stallion and the wisdom of a mage. His indigo mane hung long over his heavy teal coat. He was thinly armored, already prepared for the moment when the forest would steal any heavier armor away.

Oilslick, the Trottingham stallion, was middle-aged and greying. With them also were three ponies just one year their sergeant’s senior: Gumdrop, the group’s only mare; Opalwater, the storyteller, the son of a ferry operator; and Plum Cake, a nephew of Ponyville bakers, and the sergeant’s closest confidant.

“What do you think, Plum?” the sergeant said.

“It’s our duty to go in,” said Plum Cake, “by order of the Princess herself. I’d like to see the pony brave enough to disobey a direct order.”

“Well spoken,” said Mercury. “Very well, then, on we go, for go we must. Opalwater, start by parting the poison vines. Don’t want those touching us, do we?”

“Sure thing, chief,” Opalwater replied.

Gumdrop helped Opalwater clear the vines, and the troops marched through the thickets of Glimmerwood, pulled by their anxious bloodhounds. The dogs sniffed the ground frantically to keep on the trail. They tugged in one direction, then another, going over obstacles more often than around them, ducking under massive fallen redwoods and wading through streams where a shallow ford existed so nearby.

“Don’t touch the trees!” said Oilslick, shivering. “You’ll insult the nymphs of the forest!”

“Don’t be stupid, Oilslick,” said Opalwater. “The nymphs are just a story to keep foals from wandering into the forest. The only real danger here is the elk.”

“Elk’s enough fer me!”

“This trail is frantic,” said Gumdrop. “Are we really following their scent?”

“These bloodhounds sniff out a scent and pursue it precisely,” said Plum Cake. “If the convict doubles back, the dog doubles back. If he crosses the river where it’s deepest, the dog swims across.”

“If he does a flip, the dog does a flip,” Opalwater grinned.

The whole group laughed.

“Not quite so far,” said Plum.

“They didn’t have time to plan their escape route,” said Mercury. “Not a moment’s pause to check for a shallower crossing or to go around a hazard. Look there.”

Mercury pointed ahead to a low branch that shone like deeply polished gold.

“An ‘elmet of the Royal Guard!” said Oilslick. “We’ve got their trail.”

“And don’t expect you’ll keep your helmets either,” said Mercury. “These shrubs will have them off you.”

“Did you hear that?” said Gumdrop.

“You hearing things?” said Opalwater.

“Hush!” she cried. “Do you hear it?”

A great branch snapped behind them. All five spun around quickly, coming face to face with a great elk cow, standing just two trees away from them. Her eyes were pink and dilated, lost behind some stupor. She bowed to the company, stomping her fore-hoof against the leaf-laden forest floor.

“That’s not good,” said Oilslick.

“She’s going to charge,” said Mercury. “Run!”

The bloodhounds, not a breed for fighting, whimpered and tried to scarper off, but their guardians held fast to the leashes. The seven of them fled for their lives between the trees, ducking under low branches, rushing past the lost helmet of the deserter, always just ahead of the charging cow.

In a sprint of quick thinking, Mercury thrust his hooves into the earth, performed an about-face, and stared into the eyes of the elk. His horn glowed as he used his magic to summon a tangle of ropes into the higher branches. With the elk still charging he teleported her up into the air. Her foot caught on the rope and there she was, dangling fifty feet over their heads, crying out in piercing tones.

“It’s positively cruel,” said Gumdrop, trying to cover her ears from the sound.

“Will she die up there?” said Plum Cake.

Mercury frowned.

“We can’t think of everything,” he said. “Soldier on.”

The crew reluctantly continued forward. They dragged the dogs until they had calmed down, and they quickly recaptured the scent of the deserters’ trail. Again they were off at a gallop chasing an invisible path, their chase confirmed at every forty paces by a piece of armor lost in thorn bushes, and broken branches already concealed by green growth.

The forest floor began sloping downward, and the sound of running water grew louder.

“A river,” said Opalwater. “I didn’t know a river flowed through Glimmerwood.”

“It doesn’t,” said Mercury. “Not a proper river, anyway. It’s a branch of the Terades River. Enters Glimmerwood at Brow Canyon flowing east. We’re heading toward a ravine, not a riverbed.”

“Well look at you, Serge,” Gumdrop teased. “Your first assignment as a sergeant, and you’re already a complete know-it-all.”

“I don’t know everything, Private Gumdrop,” he smiled, “but I do insist on saying everything I know.”

“Even worse.”

“Oi!” said Oilslick, who sounded a fair ways behind them. “Anypony care to stop and help me?”

Oilslick was caught in a thick mesh of wild grape vines about twenty paces back. The woodier vines were tangled around him snugly, and the greener branches snagged on his breastplate.

“In the name of the Princesses, Private,” said Mercury, “how did this happen?”

“Does that really matter right now?” said Oilslick. “Get me out of ‘ere.”

“Why don’t you live up to your name,” said Opalwater with a colossal grin, “and just slip out?”

“Why don’t you live up to yer name and drown yerself in the rapids?” Oilslick snapped.

“Woah there, big boy!”

“When I get out of here…!”

“Okay, calm down,” said Mercury. “I’ll sever the vines.”

There was a loud, threatening grunt, and the five of them stood stock still. Gumdrop turned her head and found herself staring at the nose of an elephantine bull elk, standing just a meter away.

The great bull began to bugle, a high-pitched noise like a war horn that resonated and echoed through the stately redwood trees. A few moments later a bleating sound returned the call: the sound of the cow left hanging by her foot in the vines.

“Eye fer an eye,” said Oilslick, “eh, Sergeant? Only right after what we done to that cow.”

“Don’t say that, I’m cutting you loose. Gum, Opal, Plum, buy me some time, I can only cut one vine at once.”

“For pity’s sake, why!” cried Oilslick.

“Organic matter, now shush. Gumdrop!”

“I’ve got you, Serge. Plum, Opalwater! I need you two to flank it.”

“Aye,” said Plum Cake.

The two stallions let go their hold of their hounds and ran off in opposing directions to create a distraction. The dogs scurried off like strays on the instant. The elk stared ahead at Mercury, taking in deep breaths, registering the scent of his incapacitated mate on the pony who had fought her.

“No you don’t,” said Gumdrop.

She kicked up a stone from the forest floor, hitting the bull in the head, and the massive creature charged. Gumdrop reared onto her hind legs as the beast approached, and boxed him twice in the nose with her hooves. The bull buried his nose into the earth, as if to rub away the pain.

“Gumdrop, the distraction isn’t working!” called Plum Cake.

“New plan,” she returned. “Follow me!”

Immediately she ran off toward the ravine and her two comrades followed at her side. The elk, enraged by his attacker, pursued her in a desperate chase. They flew through the trees, the bull and his hunt, skipping through the underbrush like clumsy pixies on the run from overzealous children, lifting their hooves and jumping just to take each step. And each moment the bull elk closed the distance as it broke unimpeded through the trampled growth. Always they ran downhill toward the rushing water, on the other edge of which could be seen the sudden drop into the ravine.

“When I say now, teleport to the other edge of the ravine. Got that?”

Opalwater and Plum Cake nodded simultaneously and kept apace with the able mare. Now and then the bull tripped on the brush or scraped it horn against a redwood, losing its balance. He stumbled and slammed his side into one of the trees, and began to hobble. It was easy to see that running was becoming a great agony to the feral elk.

“Now!” Gumdrop cried, and her companions teleported to the edge of the hill on the other side of the water. Gumdrop continued to run. She slowed her pace even as the underbrush cleared toward the edge of the precipitous slope.

As the hill began to slope more and more vertically, she ran harder than ever to keep from tripping over her own legs, and the bull gave chase in a limping stride. At once the injured elk could not keep its faltering gait stable at the pony’s speed, and he tripped, tumbling fore-over-aft into the ravine.

Gumdrop teleported herself to safety immediately once she saw her plan had worked, and watched the bull elk fall. He crushed half a dozen youngling trees during his deadly rollover, hit his head against a rock, and lay limp at the bottom of the ravine, his head submerged beneath the water. His last few breaths escaped as bubbles from the rolling stream.

“You did it, Gum!” said Opalwater, his laughter cracking in the air. He hugged her excitedly, then hugged Plum Cake.

“We’d better check on Mercury and Oilslick,” said Gumdrop, her voice calm through heavy breathing.

The three unicorns teleported across the ravine and raced through the trampled trail, following it back to where they had left their sergeant to rescue Oilslick. Oilslick was freed of his breastplate, and Mercury was cutting the last vine, which had wrapped itself around Oilslick’s ankle.

“You’re back, are you?” said Mercury with a smile.

“Well don’t congratulate us, chief,” Opalwater said.

“And the elk?”

“Dead,” said Gumwater solemnly. “In the ravine. If the fall didn’t kill him, he’s drowned by now.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Mercury frowned. “And now our dogs have run off. I haven’t turned out to be a very able sergeant.”

“Nonsense, Merc,” said Plum Cake. “In the very least, a good sergeant knows how to appoint a competent second-in-command.”

“Quite right,” said Mercury. “You handled yourself well just now, Gumdrop. I’ll remember that.”

Gumdrop held her head high, but doubted the legitimacy of her pride. How, she pondered, could a death be commended, whatever the case?

“Now we’d better get moving again,” said Mercury. “Without our hounds it will be tougher, but this forest has been mapped from the air by balloon. Absent a compass, trust the stars; absent the stars, trust the wind; absent the wind, trust the trees.”

“Sorry, Serge,” said Oilslick, “but you’ve lost me.”

“If the bloodhounds can’t follow their scent, we have to assume they’ve escaped to the most likely place and search there first,” he explained. “And right now, the most likely place is a valley at the heart of Glimmerwood. We’re headed toward it, anyway, so we’d best just keep on straight.”

“Hey, chief,” said Opalwater.

“Hm?” answered Mercury distractedly.

“Who are we chasing? I want to know their names.”

“No one told you?” said Gumdrop.

“Come on, don’t be like that.”

“Who was it, Plum?” Gumdrop said. “Storm something and…?”

“Storm Cloud and Galeheart,” said Plum Cake.

“I know those names,” said Opalwater. “Lieutenant Galeheart is strict, isn’t he?”

“He’s mean, too,” said Plum. “He likes to insult you. I had to perform an errand for him once; I can’t remember a worse day. Figures he’d be the one: probably he’d go against the Princesses just to have his tea served hotter than usual. But Storm Cloud…”

“Sergeant Major Storm Cloud, now that’s a surprise,” said Gumdrop.

“I don’t know him very well,” said Plum Cake. “But he doesn’t seem like the type to be a traitor.”

“Oh,” Oilslick sighed, “everypony’s a traitor if the price is right.”

“And if a pony can’t be bought, he can always be sold,” Mercury nodded. “I’ll believe bribery got Lieutenant Galeheart, but blackmail can work just as well. Though I’ve never worked with this Storm Cloud, so I know little about his character.”

“He’s really talkative,” Gumdrop answered. “And timid. He’s a meek stallion. I don’t think he’s ever thrown a kick in his life. He’d be the desk job type if not for this.”

“So he’s meek,” said the sergeant. “What about family?”

“He’s married,” said Opalwater. “I’ve seen him with his wife. You think that elk hanging up in the trees is a cow, you should see his wife.”

“That’s not funny, Opal,” said Gumdrop.

“Time and a place, Opal,” said Mercury. “Anyway, a stallion that has something to lose can always be leveraged. If we have to, we can at least try to reason with Storm Cloud if it comes to that. No point thinking any further than that, we’ve got work to do. Everypony follow my lead. We’re heading to Sparkling Crag.”

“Sparkling Crag?” said Plum Cake as they began to move.

“That’s the name of the valley. Actually it has four names. Beautiful secluded place where the twin mountains Heron and Scoter are joined at their bases by a wide stream. The valley is supposed to be grassy and rolling. Beautiful, rare orange grass.”

“Orange?”

“That’s what the surveyors found. Half the grass in the valley is burnt orange. They landed their balloon in the valley and collected samples.”

“Sorry,” said Gumdrop, “but how can grass be orange?”

“Legend has it that the grass is stained with the blood of the hunt. The Ursa Majors come out at night to feed, and spill the blood on the grass before devouring the flesh.”

“Lovely.”

“But the truth is it’s a cross between a grass and a vegetable. It stores its nutrients in the leaves and they get fat and juicy. That grass is probably the natural diet of the indigenous elk.”

“So there’s no Ursas here, right, Serge?” said Oilslick, starting to shake.

“Oh, most definitely,” said Mercury. “Tons of them. That’s where the valley got its name.”

Oilslick shook harder.

“I thought you said it was called Sparkling Crag?” said Gumdrop.

“It is. I told you, it has four names: one for each time of day. In the morning it’s called Sparkling Crag; at noon, Valley of the Firmament; Ursa Valley at dusk, when the Ursa Majors wake up to forage for their young—don’t worry, Oilslick, the Ursas are vegetarians; and at midnight it’s called Agave’s Womb. That’s when the elk start to drink the sap of the Agave tree. I’ve even heard it called Four-Name Valley.”

“Shouldn’t it be called Five-Name Valley, then?” said Opalwater.

“But then it would have to be Six-Name Valley,” said Plum Cake.

Opal and Plum Cake laughed together.

Mercury stopped walking and held a leg up to stop the others. The trees had begun to thin out and get younger. A larger portion of saplings dwelled here, and for the first time since entering Glimmerwood, rabbits and other small mammals were chasing each other across the forest floor.

“We’re near the valley,” said Mercury. “This is the edge of the forest. If Spade and our guards are hiding in the valley, we need to approach quietly. Everyone, hush and tread softly.”

They snuck toward the narrow trees, always silent, very silent, until they could glimpse the sunlight pushing through the branches. Mercury halted them again.

“It’s likely they’ll try an ambush if they know we’re coming,” he said. “Watch the ground for traps, as well. Gumdrop, stay by my side. I’ll need you near me if something happens.”

Gumdrop jogged up to Mercury’s side, and the others defaulted into a diamond formation to keep a lookout for Spade or the runaway guards: Oilslick and Opalwater at the flank, and Plum Cake in the rear.

Suddenly a deafening crack echoed through the trees. A snare caught Mercury by the leg, and he was hanging half a dozen meters above the ground. His company cried out in surprise.

“Hold on, Merc,” Plum Cake shouted, “we’ll get you down!”

“Don’t bother,” Mercury called back. “I can manage myself. Don’t let your guard down; someone will have heard this.”

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” Gumdrop asked. “You look like you’re struggling.”

“The snare was set by magic,” he said. “Unfortunately that means this isn’t normal rope. I can’t just untie it or teleport out, I need a counter spell. Never mind me, I’ll figure it out. Just sit tight, I don’t want us getting separated.”

“Aye, Serge,” said Oilslick thankfully.

Gumdrop perked her ears and felt herself going pale.

“Mercury!” she called. “I hear someone coming.”

The sound of uneven hoof steps crushing leaves was coming from the valley, drawing closer to the group of Royal Guards. The four of them huddled together into a phalanx, shaking collectively with Oilslick’s tremors. Two more sets of hooves approached rapidly from another direction, and all three accosters came face-to-face with Gumdrop at the same time. It was Spade and his defectors from the Royal Guard.

“Well, well,” said Spade, setting his splinted leg upright, “seems you gone and set off one of our traps, ain’tcha boy? Nice and snug, innit?”

“Have to hand it to you,” Mercury panted, “it isn’t easy to cast a Gamma variation of a containment spell that conforms to the contours of a rope. Which one of you set this trap?”

Galeheart raised his nose smugly into the air.

“I did.”

“I can see why you made lieutenant. Mind giving me a hand here, champ?”

“Whatsa matter, young’un,” said Spade, “too much for ya?”

“You’re S-Sergeant Mercury, aren’t you?” said Storm Cloud. “The youngest unicorn ever allowed into the Royal Guard?”

Mercury sighed and took a pause from figuring out the trap.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” he said. “Come closer. I’m only a Sergeant because they don’t let you go straight from Corporal to Lieutenant.”

“Mighty uppity, ain’t we boy?” said Spade.

“Awfully provincial, aren’t you, Spade?” Mercury smirked, still swinging upside-down twenty feet above Spade’s head.

“Don’t you rile me, boy,” Spade spat.

“Or what? You’ll southern me to death?”

Opalwater couldn’t help laughing.

Spade began to fume, and buckled over in a hacking fit.

“Take care of ‘em,” he shouted to Galeheart. “And let the swellhead watch.”

“What should I do?” said Galeheart. “Kill them?”

“Toss ‘em all in the Shadow World. We’ll sort ‘em out later.”

Spade limped away, leaving the seven unicorns alone in the thick forest. Galeheart’s horn began to glow, and with a blast of magic Gumdrop vanished before the eyes of all present. Mercury let out an incredulous cry; Oilslick shrieked.

“Bring her back!” Mercury shouted. “Bring her back right now, damn you!”

Another blast of magic and Oilslick disappeared. A third took Opalwater as he broke rank and tried to escape into the trees.

“What did he promise you?” Mercury cried. “What could possibly be worth such cruelty against your comrades?”

Galeheart said nothing. A fourth burst from his horn sent Plum Cake to the World of Shadows. Only Mercury remained, hanging from a snare, screaming into the wilderness in frustration.

“I’ll get you for this, Galeheart,” Mercury said through clenched teeth.

Galeheart stepped forward without a word and unleashed his reverse summoning spell at the captured sergeant. Mercury vanished, and Storm Cloud exhaled as if for the first time in an hour. Galeheart turned toward the valley, flicking his head to Storm Cloud in a gesture to follow him.

A stone the size of a chariot wheel bounced off Galeheart’s body with a sound like a building crumbling; all the ribs on his left side snapped instantly, and he collapsed in agony.

Sergeant Mercury appeared from behind a tree and raced toward Galeheart. He kicked the rogue lieutenant in the jaw until his face bled, and began to trample his broken ribs.

“Bring them back, Galeheart!” he yelled.

“Stop!” said Storm Cloud. He shrank when Mercury turned and stared at him with loathing eyes. “Y-you’ll k-kill him.”

“Stay away from me, you weasel,” said Mercury. “I swear on the throne you’ll get the same.”

Mercury began again to beat and interrogate Galeheart.

“If he d-dies,” said Storm Cloud, “your f-friends will be gone forever.”

Mercury stopped.

“Along with the Elements,” Storm added.

“What do you know?” said Mercury, leaving Galeheart unconscious and facing Storm Cloud.

“He said he was going to d-double lock the summoning spell. So that o—”

“Only the caster can summon them back.”

Storm Cloud nodded and Mercury seethed.

“I’m going to give you a choice, Sergeant Major Storm Cloud,” Mercury began. “But first, let me remind you of where things stand. Although you outranked me before you defected, as a traitor you have been stripped of your rank. Furthermore, there is no possibility that you could best me in a duel.

“You can run, in which case you will be dragged back to Canterlot unconscious alongside Galeheart as a traitor. You will be interrogated, and you will spend the remainder of your days in prison. Or, you can help me transport the deserter Galeheart to his interrogation, in which case you will be debriefed, and perhaps I can have you tried for acts of treason committed while acting as a spy for the Princess. After that, you will face a year’s probation from active duty, a demotion, but little to no jail time. It’s your choice.”

Storm Cloud was perfectly silent, and Mercury had his answer. He pulled some vines from the branches and tossed them to Storm Cloud.

“Tie up the prisoner’s legs. I wanted to make it back to the city before nightfall.”

“But S-Sergeant,” said Storm, “we need to tend his wounds.”

“No time,” said Mercury. “Stowaway Spade will be looking for you if you aren’t back soon. Nor is it within my orders to pursue him.”

Storm Cloud gulped.

“Don’t worry. The new Court Mage is an alchemist, and a very powerful healer. They say he can even bring ponies back from the dead.”

“That’s not possible,” said Storm Cloud.

“But he did it. One of Spade’s victims. A little foal was killed in the attack on Ponyville, and the Mage revived him.”

Storm Cloud hung his head and surveyed his co-conspirator’s wounds.

“Immortality,” he said.

“What?”

“Spade promised us immortality. That’s what Lieutenant Galeheart wanted. But I don’t see how I could live another week with what we’ve done.”

The two were silent for the rest of the journey. Their prisoner in tow, they arrived at the palace just as the Moon was rising above Glimmerwood in the distance.

XIV. The World of Shadows

Mercury and Storm Cloud were exhausted when they arrived at the palace. By the time they reached the gates they began to drag the lieutenant through the court, leaving a trail of blood from the body of the dying unicorn that made even the guards unsure of how to react.

“Announce yourself,” a guard called out.

“Sergeant Mercury of the five-hundred first reconnaissance team,” was the reply. “Two prisoners captured.”

Storm Cloud whimpered at being referred to as a prisoner.

“Where is the rest of the 501?” asked the guard.

Mercury tossed Galeheart at the guard’s feet. “He cast a reverse summoning spell on my troops. My other captive says they were taken to the World of Shadows. We’ll need more intel on the nature of this location, and it’s likely only the prisoner can retrieve them.”

“World of Shadows, you say?” said the guard with a pensive look.

“I have reason to believe the Elements are in this Shadow World as well, and that the prisoners are our only chance at getting them back. I request an audience with the Princess, and the Court Mage to tend to the prisoner’s wounds and help with the interrogation.”

“Yes, Sergeant,” said the guard with a salute. “The prisoners will be taken to a holding cell, and a messenger will be sent to the Princess.”

“Very good.”

“Will you mind waiting for the Princess in the dungeon with the prisoners?

“Not at all,” said Mercury. “I do, however, have one more small request. My other captive here is Sergeant Major Storm Cloud, one of the defectors we were pursuing. In light of his actions today, I recommend that he be treated as an informant, rather than a prisoner.”

Storm Cloud breathed a sigh of the deepest relief; the guard raised his eyebrows.

“…Very well,” the guard muttered. “He’ll still have to be detained.”

Mercury nodded and nodded at Storm to reassure him. The guard bound Storm Cloud’s forelegs so that he was forced to shuffle while he walked, and the three were led inside the castle and down into the dungeon. All the ponies in the palace, guards and attendants alike, had a sullen way about them, an aura of dejectedness that carried past them as they walked. It wasn’t until they reached the dungeon that the air of sadness succumbed to total emptiness.

Separate cells were given to the informant and the infirm. The wait was several minutes before Princess Celestia arrived with Emerald Alembic at her side. The latter had on his back a lumpy saddlebag, which Mercury presumed to be filled with the tools of his trade. Mercury offered his hoof to the Court Mage and introduced himself.

Emerald made no response and walked on without acknowledging the sergeant. His face was scoured with deep worry lines, and his eyes were swollen and purple from a lack of sleep. He moved about carelessly, like one absorbed in a daydream, and took no deliberate action except to move vaguely toward the dying prisoner.

“We came as swiftly as we could,” said the Princess, pulling Mercury’s attention away from Emerald. “I was very sorry to hear of the loss of your brigade. Along with the theft of the Elements this is a day of terrible news.”

“In the name of all that is—” cried Emerald Alembic from inside Galeheart’s cell, with a passion that startled his companions. “What happened to this prisoner?”

“He attacked me,” said Mercury tersely. He still felt slighted by Emerald’s refusal to address him.

“So you crushed six of his ribs in a brawl?”

“Would you have found a better way to incapacitate a traitor?”

“How long ago were these injuries sustained?” said Emerald, using his magic to read the patient’s heartbeat.

“Five hours ago,” said Mercury. “Maybe six. Around noon in any case.”

Emerald scoffed.

“Be glad you managed to get him here before he died. Unfortunately so much of his body is damaged that it will take time to correct everything you’ve done to him.”

“We don’t have time,” said Mercury.

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Emerald spat. “You’ll have to gather as much information as you can from your informant. Meanwhile I’ll administer the prisoner’s treatments. Potions might even be faster than time magic with this one. When he wakes up in a day or so, we can try to get out of him whatever he has to offer.”

“A day!” said Mercury. “My soldiers could die in the World of Shadows by then!”

“I suppose you should have thought of that before fatally wounding the only stallion who could help you.”

Emerald quickly cast a time spell on Galeheart to repair the progress of his injuries as far as he could, and beginning the painstaking process of treating the individual wounds. Mercury began to shake with indignation.

“I heard rumors of how great you were as a healer,” he said, “but never was I told what a detached blowhard you would be. Do you even care about the lives of my soldiers? Do you care about anything but what conveniences you?”

Without a moment’s pause, Emerald spun on his hoof and stomped Mercury full on the nose. The sergeant’s face began to stream with blood, and he fell dizzy to his knees.

“I’ll be busy mixing the prisoner’s potions,” Emerald said coldly to Celestia. “Please keep an eye on the informant, Princess.”

Without another word Emerald closed his medicine bag and went slowly up the dungeon steps leading into the atrium. Mercury was left dumbfounded on the floor; he muttered curses under his breath.

“Emerald knows how you feel,” said the Princess, helping him to stand.

“He could stand to show it.”

“He wouldn’t have hit you if he didn’t.”

“Well it’s a horrible way to express sympathy,” said Mercury, rubbing his nose.

“He wasn’t showing you sympathy,” said Celestia, impatiently. “He hit you for your indifference. I can hardly believe you could not recognize his grief immediately.”

Mercury stayed silent.

“Since his arrival in Canterlot,” the Princess continued, “Emerald Alembic formed a deep bond with my sister, Princess Luna. They were very close. In fact, I can hardly remember a time Luna had such a close friend. For weeks he stayed up all night to keep her company when everyone else was sleeping. But since she was attacked, Emerald hasn’t slept, even for a moment. Nor have I, for that matter.”

Mercury sighed. “I didn’t know.”

“No, you didn’t. He would do anything to save my little sister. If he seems self-absorbed, it may be that saving her is all he cares about right now.”

“I’ll apologize,” he answered weakly, “the next time I see him.”

Emerald returned half an hour later with a series of potions and medicinal herbs and administered them to Galeheart. Meanwhile the Princess and Mercury were busy speaking with Storm Cloud about all that had happened. They got the full story from him and related it to Emerald while Storm Cloud slept.

“So if Storm Cloud wasn’t bribed,” Emerald asked, “then how did Spade control him?”

The Princess began to turn red.

“We were hard pressed getting it out of him,” she said, “but it looks as if he was having an affair. His wife is not precisely young and pretty, and a moment of weakness led him to an evening with the daughter of a chimney sweep.”

“So he betrays his wife, Spade manipulates a confession from him, and blackmails him into helping. Blackmail doesn’t excuse the crime, but it can reduce the penalty. I can hardly think of a pony alive who has the wits about him to guard against evil, however mild. It wasn’t always that way. Ours is a naïve society now.”

“Your Eminence,” said Mercury hesitantly, “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t know that you—”

“Never mind,” said Emerald. “I acted the same way to the Princess the night of the attack. We’re even, Your Highness.”

He let himself smile, and the others smiled as well. Then Mercury said what was on everyone’s mind.

“What is the World of Shadows?” he asked.

“It’s a branch of Tartarus,” said Emerald, “a land of pure darkness that only certain ponies of rank are allowed to access. It’s where the Kingdom stores its secrets, and its skeletons.”

“How in the world can you know that, Emerald Alembic?” the Princess said.

“I’ve told you before, Princess. Seven hundred years ago I served as a member of your Guard under an alias.”

“All Royal Guards have to undergo a full physical examination,” the Princess objected. “How could you have slipped unrecognized into their ranks?”

“Well, in the strictest sense it wasn’t legal,” said Emerald.

“Not legal?”

“Per se.”

“Incredible. I have no memory of having met you in the past. What alias did you use?”

“Speedwell,” Emerald admitted.

“You’re Captain Speedwell?” Mercury blurted, like a foal doting over his hero. “The creator of the slingshot spell?”

“You actually know the slingshot spell?” said Emerald, incredulously.

“That’s how I wounded Lieutenant Galeheart. I shot a rock at him.”

“A rock large enough to create that wound would have required an exceptionally powerful version of the spell,” Emerald said.

“I made some adjustments to compensate for the extra force,” Mercury gloated.

“Then I’m not surprised you made sergeant at such a young age.”

The Princess cleared her throat.

“Can we return to relevant matters?” she said sternly.

“Yes, sorry,” said Emerald. “At all events, the Shadow World is extremely difficult to access. As Captain of the Royal Guard I was briefed about it in its entirety, and I made a point to practice accessing it very diligently.”

“Then you could get the Elements back?” Mercury said. “And my friends?”

“Not likely,” said Emerald. “When I was Captain, we called it the Umbra. It’s pure, hellish darkness. I don’t mean to make you uneasy, but I hope your friends don’t have any phobias.”

“What do you mean?” said Mercury, fearing for the weak-hearted Oilslick.

“Any fears they have they are going to face in the Umbra. Spiders, Ursas, even heartbreak and abandonment. The Umbra is a place where your fears prey on you. It feeds on every negative emotion. I spent enough time there to know.”

“You put yourself in the Umbra?” the Princess gasped.

“I had to understand it for myself,” he explained.

“You are one mystery after another, Emerald Alembic,” said Celestia, half-sighing. Emerald shrugged.

“In any case it’s not as easy as walking through the Umbra to look for them,” he went on. “According to the old legends, the gods created the Umbra as a safe haven, a place where they could hide in times of great danger. They designed traps right into the fabric of the darkness itself. It was designed to keep enemies out.

“If a mortal enters the Umbra, he comes face to face with all his fears. It’s enough to drive a pony mad with terror. Whereas if one enters the Umbra to escape danger, seeking refuge, the traps deactivate.”

“So what will happen to those who are sent there unwillingly?” said Mercury. “Can they escape?”

“Easily, if they know how. As for how they’ll experience the Umbra, I cannot say, since I have never heard of this happening before.”

“One of my stallions,” Mercury said, his voice starting to quiver, “Oilslick. He’s so afraid of everything. I don’t know how he’ll survive.”

“He’ll survive,” Emerald reassured him. “Listen. There’s one more thing about the Umbra you need to know. This is very crucial. The greatest trap of the Umbra is the Nethers. It was designed so that if any pursuer came looking for someone in the Umbra, with the intention of hurting the refugee, the pursuer would enter the Nethers instead.”

“What’s the Nethers?”

“No one knows for sure,” said the Princess.

“All we know,” said Emerald, “is that it cannot be accessed by any means we’ve ever tried. It’s the perfect prison.”

“When Luna and I were little,” said Celestia, “and first being groomed for our royal duties, our grandfather told us that only the purest of heart can find the way into the Nethers. He said there is no other way out but to be rescued by your victim. It is very cruel.”

“Cruelty and justice can be faithful friends,” said Emerald.

“So we have to wait and force Galeheart to summon them from the Umbra,” said Mercury.

Emerald sighed, and it was a long moment before he could respond.

“That’s what makes this so hard,” he said. “Living beings cannot be summoned from the Umbra. It would hardly be a sanctuary if they could. That is one reason why I was not as impatient of Galeheart’s recovery as you are. Your friends are trapped there unless somepony who can overcome all the Umbra’s traps goes in and pulls them out.”

“You’ve been there before,” Mercury pleaded. “You could do it.”

“Son, what kind of a state do you think I’m in? I’m terrified of Spade. I could not protect my closest friend, and the guilt has driven me to insomnia. If you have no guilt, then perhaps the Umbra holds no danger for you, but the way things are, I wouldn’t last an hour there.”

Mercury inhaled deeply in frustration.

“We have to do something,” he said. “If you won’t last an hour, how do you think my friends have lasted these seven? Teach me to enter the Shadow World, if you refuse to go!”

“You propose to undertake a journey through hell without knowing its terrain,” said Emerald flatly. “It would take a week to train you, besides, and a month to teach you its traps. More than likely you would find your friends dying a hundred deaths, and each one an illusion so true to life that your stomach turns with terror. Are you strong enough for that?”

Mercury hung his head.

“I’ll go,” said the Princess suddenly. Her tone was one of unbreakable resolve.

“Princess Celestia,” Emerald objected, “you can’t—”

“I can,” she returned sternly. “However you may think of me, Emerald Alembic, I am not a princess for show. Even if you are older than I, a century makes little difference to an alicorn. I am inspired more by love for my sister than by hatred for Stowaway Spade. Perhaps I can even recover the Elements of Harmony.

“What happened to Luna was my fault. I saw how she cared for you, Emerald, and I wished to protect you. When Lieutenant Whitesnout requested offensive spells for the Royal Guard, I saw it as a way to make you safe from Spade. I was too blinded by fear to guess how it would turn out, and in my grief I laid the blame on you, as it was for your sake that I allowed it. I see now how I was wrong.

“If it is true that the traps disarm for those seeking shelter, perhaps they disarm also for those intending to rescue. If not, I am still the one of us better equipped to journey through the Umbra. I will go, Sergeant Mercury.”

Mercury bowed so deeply that his nose touched her hooves. He was effusive with gratitude. Emerald could not help respecting the Princess’s courage and humility, and inside his heart he was thankful to be relieved of the burden; but outwardly he only sighed.

“If you’re going to do this, Princess,” he said, “it will have to be while we still have the upper hand.”

“I’ll do it tonight,” was her only response. She called for Captain Shining Armor and told him of the affair. The palace was to be placed in a state of emergency during the absence of the Princess, and the swiftest messengers were to be sent throughout the kingdom of Equestria to alert her subjects of the possibility of a late sunrise.

When the Captain had left, she strapped a saddlebag to her back—an accessory which seemed very droll on her person, as a moustache would on a child—and though her determination was unwavering and her compassion great, something akin to fear was quivering in her heart. She managed with effort to subdue this apprehension, and in a flash her pure white coat had vanished with her aurora-tinged mane.

Emerald and Mercury were left standing in the dungeon, anxious for her return. But though they waited all night, there was still no sign of the Princess. As the hour of dawn approached and the cold darkness remained, ever growing colder, the two stallions stood before the slit in the stone wall and took comfort in staring at the Moon, which stood in gibbous as the only source of light in the starless sky. Emerald thought of Luna, and to his surprise he fell to his knees and prayed for the safety of the Princess of the Day.

From behind they heard a noise in Galeheart’s cell, a sound of shuffling as if he were awake. Emerald knew it was impossible for the prisoner to be conscious so soon, and there was even a deep terror in his gut as he and Mercury made their way to his cell to check on him.

They had not made it four steps when a second sound erupted from the room. It was a sudden, muffled screech, liked something heavy being dragged along the floor. The two of them sprinted for the cell in a state near panic, and reached the cell door gasping heavily.

Emerald’s jaw dropped, and both their hearts raced: the cell stood empty. Immediately they checked on Storm Cloud’s cell and found it just as bare, as if no prisoner had ever lain there. This mystery, deepened by the unsettling sensation of an endless night, tore at the wits of the young sergeant Mercury, who fainted noiselessly onto the flag-paved dungeon floor.

He did not recover his senses until he awoke to find himself in a watchtower room, sunlight streaming through the floor-length window, and the Princess of the Day standing over him, accompanied by three members of the five-hundred first.

XV. What the Princess Saw

Before Mercury could come to terms with his surroundings, Gumdrop had already pounced on him and was hugging him tightly. Plum Cake stood staring at the marble floor, and Opalwater warmly patted his sergeant on the back. The Princess appeared horrendously tired, breathing heavily and her coat disheveled, and took a seat on a cushion beside him to rest her wavering legs. Oilslick was nowhere to be seen. Mercury’s heart sank.

“Where’s Oilslick?” he asked in a frantic tone.

“He’s okay,” said Gumdrop quickly.

“Emerald Alembic is caring for him in the infirmary,” the Princess said. “He was deeply traumatized by the Umbra, but don’t worry: Emerald’s expertise is the workings of the mind. He has already prepared the necessary medicines.”

“And Oilslick will be all right?” Mercury persisted.

“Emerald expects a full recovery, and I see no reason to doubt him.”

Mercury heaved a sigh of relief.

“What happened in the Umbra?” he asked. “Did you find the Elements of Harmony?”

The Princess shook her head disconsolately.

“Stowaway Spade got there before us,” she said. “We met him in the Umbra just before we made our escape.”

“What!” Mercury’s head reeled; he remembered the sight of the empty cells which had so bewildered him before.

“And what about the prisoners,” he asked hurriedly. “Galeheart and Storm Cloud? They went missing this morning, did you see them?”

“Lieutenant Galeheart was with Spade in the Umbra. We did not see Sergeant Major Storm Cloud with them.”

“I think you can stop using their titles now, Princess,” said Emerald’s voice from the doorway. “They are past the dignity of distinction.”

“Did you pursue them?” Mercury insisted. “With Galeheart injured, he couldn’t have escaped you so easily!”

“Galeheart wasn’t hurt,” said Opalwater matter-of-factly, unaware of all that had happened in his absence.

“Come now, Celestia,” Emerald said, “Sergeant Mercury is awake now. The time has come for you to tell us what happened in the Shadow World.”

Celestia took in a long, ragged breath and rubbed her tired eyes. Everyone else stood—each of them being too anxious to sit comfortably.

“Before I left,” the Princess began, “I ordered the palace to be placed in a state of emergency. Whenever this happens, the Umbra is sealed. The Umbra, after all, belongs to the Royal family, and contains many of its most valued possessions. Often we retrieve these possessions by summoning them, but during a state of emergency, it is impossible to summon anything from the Umbra. With Spade unable to use alchemy and Galeheart incapacitated, I assumed that would be enough to keep the Elements of Harmony safe for me to retrieve them.

“After several hours of searching, however, when I located Private Gumdrop and her group, there was no sign of the Elements. None of them recalled coming across them, and Private Oilslick was in such a state of shock that I could not delay in getting him out. I did not meet with any of the Umbra’s traps, but it was obvious that the privates had. Many of them were suffering from hallucinations, and of course I have mentioned Oilslick’s condition. Indeed, he was completely delirious. I made all haste to pull them out of the Shadow World.

“Yet when I was about to do this, I caught sight of Spade in the corner of my eye, and I gave chase after him. Opalwater and Plum Cake left Gumdrop to care for Oilslick and followed me. As we came up to him I noticed Galeheart by his side, by some miracle uninjured . And you can imagine my surprise at seeing him there at all, when he ought to have been in the palace dungeon.

“They were carrying the Elements. I attempted to seize them, but they fled immediately, taking the Elements of Harmony with them. I would have pursued them into this world had I not the privates to look out for. The five of us then returned to the palace. There is nothing more to say.”

When the Princess finished speaking, Emerald appeared very distraught.

“How did the privates escape the Umbra, Princess?” he said.

“I carried them out,” she replied. “I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“None of this makes sense,” Emerald muttered. He knitted his brow as if he were solving an impossible riddle. “We must return to the dungeon so I can figure this out.”

Having said this, the six of them descended the tower into the dungeon, and stepped into Galeheart’s empty cell. Once there, Emerald began again:

“Spade could have been carried out of the Umbra, could he not?”

“As he has no faculty of magic,” the Princess replied, “I would assume he was.”

“You say he has no faculty of magic, and yet just this morning two prisoners in his charge, one gravely injured and one terrified of him, escaped an impenetrable prison.”

“You are saying that he has use of his magic.”

“I am saying,” said Emerald, his forehead furrowed with thought, “that I saw him chase me half a mile without casting a single spell on me. And yet Storm Cloud, as unreliable a memory as he seems to have, still distinctly described helping Spade into a splint for his paralyzed leg. Did he not tell us that sometimes his leg acted up, and at other times it was fine? What if his magical faculty is the same?”

“Then at times he could use magic,” Mercury offered, “and at others he would be a normal Earth stallion.”

“Precisely,” said Emerald. “Princess, there must be some loopholes in the prison defenses. What are they?”

“Emerald Alembic,” Celestia said nervously, “you can’t expect me to—”

“No time for games!” he said. “How are the dungeons kept?”

Celestia sighed.

“They are kept with a containment spell.”

“That much is obvious,” Emerald muttered. “But any unicorn worthy of a palace dungeon, with enough time, could study the magical signature of the spell and fashion a counter-spell against it. Mercury himself, not a day ago, broke free of a containment spell by this method. There must be more to it.”

“The structure is designed to vacillate,” the Princess added reluctantly. “The magical signature changes every six minutes.”

“Six minutes!” Emerald said. “That’s impossible! Give me one thousand years to practice, and still I could never counter a containment spell this complex in under six minutes.”

“Yes, Emerald, that is the point.”

“Is it really that complex?” said Mercury. “I got out of Galeheart’s trap in under three.”

“You have learned to read magical signatures,” Emerald began, adopting the somewhat condescending tone of rhetoric. “Had you not, you could not have unraveled the spell’s structure. Feel around you, Mercury: try to sense the magical signatures in this room.”

Mercury gave an earnest effort, and gave it up after a moment of struggle.

“It’s murky, isn’t it? Like river water disturbed by a swimmer. Seeing magical signatures is second nature to me—it is a useful skill for knowing when ponies with a capacity for magic are approaching. Yet even I was unaware that this magical signature was changing around us every tenth of an hour, because I can hardly see the first string of its structure. Like the words of an unfamiliar language, it is a code that requires a key to break.”

The Princess shook her head rapidly.

“No, no,” she said, “Galeheart was not a dungeon guard. He was never informed of the key.”

“That is what makes it so terrible, Princess,” Emerald said. His head turned to and fro in a fit as he tried to think. “Spade needed no key.”

“Now you are the one speaking impossibilities, Emerald,” said Celestia.

“Impossible is just what we call the unfamiliar. Remember what you thought of the steam engine before it was created! It takes genius to innovate. Stowaway Spade is the first Earth pony ever to use magic. It is terrifying then that he should be such a genius, but not impossible.”

“I refuse to accept that,” said the Princess flatly.

“Which is exactly why progress is so difficult in this world,” Emerald grumbled. “Think about it, Your Highness. The Elements of Harmony are supposed to be protected by a spell only you can break. How then did two guards, whose job it is only to keep people from entering the Temple Hall, make off with them?”

“But Spade could not have had anything to do with the heist itself,” Mercury protested. “According to Storm Cloud, he was waiting in Sparkling Crag, in Glimmerwood, and they were ordered to carry the Elements back to him.”

Emerald Alembic let out a frustrated scream and tore at his own mane. Then a shimmering of clarity entered his mind.

“He could have manipulated their memories,” he said. “I did not inform you of this, Princess, but on the night of Luna’s attack I inspected Whitesnout’s corpse. No doubt a proper autopsy would never have been performed, so I set about it. In his system I found traces of Blue Swamp Lily. Naturally this is how Spade learned their secrets and used this information to manipulate the soldiers into obedience. If he had access and knowledge enough to brew a truthfulness potion from the swamp lily, perhaps he brewed a forgetfulness potion as well.”

“That would explain Storm Cloud’s sporadic memory of his time with Stowaway Spade,” the Princess admitted. “But he would have to have implanted memories, not only of his crippled condition—which, if you are correct, must have been an act—but also of his waiting for them, when all the time he was escaping to Glimmerwood by their side. That is no easy feat, Emerald Alembic.”

“And besides that there seems no reason for him to pretend to be crippled,” Emerald agreed. Again he was frustrated by being unable to solve the riddle of the facts. With a heavy sigh he gave up the fruitless attempt.

“We are all exhausted,” he said finally. “I doubt whether any of us has slept a wink for twenty-four hours. It would be better if we slept. The first full moon of the Double Harvest is only a week away, and while I would like to capture him before he breaks the seal on himself, we must also think about Princess Luna. When we have confirmation that he has the ability to break a sealing spell, we can capture him and learn how to revive Luna. Until then we are of no use to her.”

Emerald said all this with the quivering voice of emotion. The Princess of the Day, holding Luna’s safety foremost in her heart, was ready to face any elevation of danger where success meant helping her sister.

All of them being in agreement, and every one ready to collapse from exhaustion, they each retired to their chambers. Even the privates were assigned rooms in the tower for their own safety; while Celestia, remaining in the watchtower room, made her way slowly to the rotunda where Princess Luna lay sealed on her bed. She lay beside her frozen sister and fell quickly asleep, far too tired to be roused by her own sobbing.

XVI. On the Wind's Breath

In the predawn, about the time that Emerald Alembic was beginning to offer his prayers of safety, a pair of hooded stallions crept through the darkness toward the palace. Their figures were invisible against the blackness of the night, but they moved swiftly and with purpose as they approached the exposed wall of the dungeon.

“Which holds are they in?” whispered the one.

“I’ll tell you when I know,” answered the other.

The first tended to a discomfort in his hind leg, and looked about nervously.

“Damn it, Spade,” said the second, “is your leg better or isn’t it?”

“I ain’t got no sway o’er the matter,” Spade returned, defensively.

“I’m doing this for you to ensure the safety of my investment,” the second hissed. “You had better not muss it up like the Elements job, you old gimp.”

Spade scoffed.

“This is mine as much as yers. We agreed, it’s my hooves as’ll put an end to Emerald Alembic. You ain’t gonna touch him.”

“You can rest assured of my end. But if you let slip yours, losing your revenge should be the least of your worries. Now shut up so I can think.”

The second stallion laid his ear against the wall and closed his eyes. He was silent for a moment and pulled his head away.

“There are only four in the dungeon. Two of them aren’t prisoners. One of them feels like Alembic, but if it is, there’s something different about him. Your boys are in separate cells, one at forty paces east, one at fifteen south. We’ll have to bust them separately. Which means,” he added sternly, “we have to be quiet. I’ll pull them out on my own.”

“Well,” Spade coughed, “you gonna bust ‘em, or you gonna talk about it?”

The stallion rolled his eyes. He pulled down his hood and bared his silver-blue horn.

“These cells are held by a containment spell that alters its signature. While we’ve been here it has changed twice: time between, six minutes and fourteen seconds. I can see why you couldn’t do this yourself.”

“Criminy,” said Spade, “can ya do it or not?”

“I can break it in four,” he replied, “give or take a moment.”

“Then git it done.”

The stallion applied himself to the work with the deepest concentration. As the minutes passed, a sweat erupted from his brow. All the while Stowaway Spade kept watch, ducking himself away whenever a sentinel came near that side of the castle.

“Got it,” said Spade’s companion when the containment spell was breached. “I won’t be a moment.”

With that his image faded in the wind, a Cheshire cat grin hanging in the air and vanishing last. The cloaked unicorn was gone from Spade’s sight.

Storm Cloud lay sleeping when the stallion materialized inside his cell. Without waking him the intruder teleported Storm Cloud beyond the walls of the dungeon, and moved on to Galeheart.

In Galeheart’s cell he took a moment to watch the injured stallion’s labored breathing. He quickly cast a spell to heal the greater part of Galeheart’s wounds, then shook the ex-lieutenant awake. He put a hoof to his mouth to demand silence.

“Who are you?” said Galeheart in a daze.

“Just call me Birdy,” he replied in a flawless imitation of Spade’s voice that sent the weary lieutenant reeling backward with shock. The bed shifted beneath him, and the bedposts screeched on the cold stone.

“Damn it, boy,” he hissed at Galeheart. “Now you’ve gone and got us in a hurry. Hold on—you may feel a little fuzzy after this.”

He teleported Galeheart outside of the castle where Storm Cloud and Spade were waiting, and vanished from the dungeon in the moment before Emerald Alembic laid eyes upon an empty cell.

“D’ya think that’s funny, White Bird?” Spade barked at him when he reappeared in the palace yard. “Storm Cloud damn near broke my neck when he landed on me.”

“I don’t think anything is particularly funny,” White Bird replied with a cold stare. “Especially not being shouted at by someone who is in my debt.”

Stowaway Spade stared at the grass and stayed silent. Galeheart, woozy from the loss of blood, fell on his side when he tried to stand.

“Well, good,” said Spade’s companion. “Now we’re out safe I can fix this boy up proper.”

He spent a few moments crouched in the darkness, unwrapping Galeheart’s bandages and treating all his wounds. In the space of a second the remaining cracked bones were set and healed, and the skin had closed around them in invisible scars.

“What happened to y’all to get ya captured?” Spade asked the lieutenant.

“It was that sergeant,” he wheezed. “Sergeant Mercury. I thought I got him, but he came out of nowhere, and…”

“And what ‘bout you?” Spade said, turning to Storm Cloud. “You ain’t hurt. I reckon you surrendered the minute Galeheart here got bushwhacked.”

“He’s a snitch,” White Bird interjected. “You can always tell a snitch by the way they carry themselves. You should choose your hoodlums more carefully, Spade.”

Spade exploded in anger. He knocked Storm Cloud to the ground and held a hoof against his throat.

“What’d ya tell ‘em, you schemin’ rat?” he yelled. “Spill it!”

“Now, Stowaway,” said White Bird calmly, “there’s no need for that. You know right well he told them everything.”

This did not help to quell Spade’s temper. White Bird laid a hoof on his shoulder, and in an instant Spade released Storm Cloud and stepped back with a tranquil expression in his eyes. White Bird began casting a spell on Storm Cloud, and spoke softly.

“It doesn’t matter what you told them,” he said. “What matters is what they told you. You are going to tell us every little detail you may have overheard, is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Storm Cloud whispered passively. His eyes were glazed over by White Bird’s enchantment.

“Good. Start with whatever is of the most immediate consequence. Are they making any plans against us?”

“The Princess is in the Shadow World,” said Storm Cloud without a second’s delay.

“What!” Spade roared.

“With what purpose?” said White Bird.

“The Princess seeks the members of the five-hundred-first. She plans to retrieve the guards we sent there, and she is hopeful of finding the Elements of Harmony.”

White Bird whipped his head around to look at Spade.

“You hid the Elements in the Umbra?” he growled, truly angry for the first time since Spade had known him.

“Galeheart, get ‘em back!” Spade said, his face flushed with fury and embarrassment. “Summon the Elements!”

Galeheart tried in vain to summon the Elements of Harmony from the Shadow World. When he realized it was no use, he stared helplessly at Spade.

“Damn two-bit, good-for-nuthin’—!” he yelled, raising a hoof against the cowering lieutenant. White Bird caught his leg to stop him.

“The Umbra is sealed,” he said. “It’s a palace security measure. Nothing can be summoned out of it now. Hell, I ought to hit you for hiding the Elements someplace you didn’t understand.”

“It was Galeheart what done it!” Spade said, trying to excuse himself.

“The onus of guilt always falls on the commander. You ought to know better. Now get yourselves in the Shadow World, both of you, and when you’ve got the Elements, bring them back to Sparkling Crag. That was the hiding place we agreed on, in case you don’t recall.”

“What about Storm Cloud?” Galeheart asked.

“I’ll see to him,” said White Bird, “like I see to every snitch that jeopardizes my plans. Now stop wasting time!”

In a flash Galeheart’s magic carried him and Stowaway Spade into the Umbra, where, as the Princess described to Sergeant Mercury and Emerald Alembic, they narrowly managed to secure the Elements, and escaped capture. Spade and Galeheart met up with White Bird, who was appeased to find the Elements of Harmony in Spade’s saddle bag.

“Where’s the Sergeant Major?” said Galeheart.

“I saw to him,” White Bird replied flatly. “Now head for Sparkling Crag, and don’t screw anything else up. The Elements are yours until the Double Harvest, Spade. But remember that when you’re through with them, you hand them over to me.”

Spade nodded.

“You’re on your own now. I’ll find you on the full moon to help you with your ritual. And Spade,” he added in an admonishing tone, “have your boy here teach you how to enter the Umbra. If anything goes wrong when you’re facing Emerald, he shouldn’t be able to follow you there. If he does, you’d do well not to attack him. You’ve been warned.”

With that, White Bird’s figure was dispersed on the wind’s breath, and Spade and Galeheart made their way east toward Glimmerwood and Sparkling Crag.

XVII. The Double Harvest

The night was cold and gusty. The first fallen leaves of the season were carried away in the dancing currents of the autumn breeze. White Bird stepped out into a clearing to meet Spade and Galeheart, who had all but finished the preparations for the Double Harvest Ritual.

“Awful fine o’ you to show up,” Spade sneered. “Ain’t as if my leg’s been actin’ up.” He dragged his gimp leg forward and tapped it with his hoof.

“There were mistakes that needed cleaning up,” said White Bird offhandedly. “Is everything prepared as I advised?”

Spade huffed.

“Yeah,” he said. “We found the River Rose an hour after moonrise. Should be forty minutes ago. Elements are all set up, like ya said.”

The Elements of Harmony were arranged into a hexagonal pattern inscribed by a six-pointed star. In the center of the ritual altar sat a bowl filled to the brim with the red-orange pedals of a single River Rose. The bowl was ringed by a circle of manticore teeth, on whose roots the drying blood still glistened in the moonlight.

White Bird produced six vials and began placing them one by one beside each of the Elements of Harmony.

“These,” he told his companions, “are called Experientias. Excuse me for not trusting you to gather these yourselves, but only my Order has the necessary magic.”

“What are they?” said Galeheart, carelessly removing one from where White Bird had deliberately positioned it. White Bird snatched it from his hooves and replaced it among the relics.

“Experientias are concentrated feelings extracted from a pony’s mind,” he explained. “Spade is not a Master of Harmony, so he cannot assume all the states of the Elements by himself. The River Rose is nature’s purest expression of Growth Magic, the original Element of Harmony. This flower responds to the Elements, and vice versa. But Spade cannot experience all six states of Harmony at once, so the Experientias do that for him.

“Each of these six vials contains a state of Harmony, removed from a trained unicorn while he was meditating upon pure Honesty, Loyalty, and the rest. With them nearby interacting with the River Rose, the Elements can be tricked into working for us. It’s a neat way to cheat the system, but it does require the rare Double Harvest to work.”

White Bird concluded by setting the last Experientia in place and, turning to Spade, he caught sight of something moving in the bushes.

You’re late, Emerald, he thought to himself.

“I hope the lieutenant here has taught you to enter the Umbra,” he said to Spade.

“Yeah, yeah,” Spade replied. “I’ve been there and back a dozen times now. Blame that damn training for my leg havin’ a fit!”

“Well don’t worry about your magic. Your channels will be healed the moment the ceremony begins. After that I’ll help you finish breaking the seal of time magic around your body. This will require some effort, but your leg will be as good as new.”

“Then you can have yer Elements,” said Spade. “What use I got for a mare’s jewels, anyhow?”

“Well spoken,” White Bird smiled. “Now please, if you’re ready to start, step within the circle and eat the contents of that bowl.”

“Eat it?” Spade grimaced.

“Unless you consume the River Rose your body will not be able to act as a channel for the Elements of Harmony.”

Spade hesitated but entered the circle and chewed the flower quickly. It had the sweetest flavor of any flower he had ever tasted, and by the last swallow he began to relish it with a gluttonous pleasure, and he greatly desired more. But as the flower’s magic entered his blood, he felt freed of all gluttony and avarice, shed of grief and fear, completely liberated from all the terrible thoughts which gripped him day by day. He felt he understood the truth, that the pursuit of pleasure can be just as treacherous as the fear of pain, and he felt his vices leave him.

The jewels of the Elements began to glow with the magic of the Full Moon. Their radiance was tremendous: like six bright suns they infused the night with luminosity. The light completely consumed Stowaway Spade and coursed through him. Six streams of magic flowed from the vials into their sibling Elements, then on into Spade. For the briefest of moments a set of phantom wings and a ghastly horn adorned the body of the impostor, this would-be alicorn, while the silver Moon decorated him with her glory.

White Bird stood aside, using half his attention to observe all that happened in the bushes around them, and half to guide Spade’s ceremony to completion. Everything went precisely as planned, and he played his part well.

As the ritual ended, the blinding light of the Elemental magic began to fade, and all was once again in darkness but for the glowing moon.

Spade felt his leg and saw that he could move it without trouble. He laughed with glee and cried one ‘hoorah!’ after another as he tore off his splint.

He threw spells left and right to test the strength of his magic. To his delight he was as powerful as ever, and there was a certain ease to it that he attributed to the River Rose. He turned to see that White Bird had already vanished, and the Elements with him.

Galeheart trotted up to Spade in the wake of his celebration.

“We had a deal, Spade,” said the lieutenant boldly.

“So we did, boy, so we did,” Spade replied, too elated to be made cross by Galeheart’s forwardness. He produced a small journal from his saddlebag and tossed it to the lieutenant.

“There,” he said. “That’s what I promised ya. Now git.”

Galeheart tore open the journal and studied its contents like a jeweler authenticating a diamond. When he was quite satisfied he offered his hoof to Spade, who shook it in good spirits. It was then that Galeheart collapsed.

From the eastern edge of the clearing there came a wave like a pulsation. The blast of pressure washed over the lieutenant, draining the life from his body so that he fell limp to the ground. From above a great boulder came crashing down on him, crushing his hind legs.

Spade watched the attackers emerge from the bushes and rush toward him. Emerald and Celestia led the charge, and behind them Mercury and Gumdrop preceded Plum Cake and Opalwater. All of them ran quickly to surround Spade, who was caught too much by surprise to make a move against them.

Spade knew he could not fight Emerald and the Princess if they were together. Seeing Galeheart on the ground, in a state like death, drained him of the peaceful feeling that the River Rose had granted him.

“You’re not getting away this time, Spade,” said Emerald.

“If I wanna escape, I’ll take y’all out first,” said Spade, all too aware of his own bluff.

“Don’t be rash, Stowaway Spade,” said Celestia. “Come with us quietly. We would rather not have to harm you.”

At that Spade flew into a rage. Without thinking he charged at Emerald, protecting himself with a barrier spell, which Emerald’s draining magic broke through easily. Spade went reeling backward, bruised and tired but too angry to give up the fight. No one interfered, including White Bird, who sat unnoticed in the briers and watched with the attention of a predator.

In his wrath Spade was reckless, his magic scattered and weak. Emerald effortlessly defended against him, uninjured. Spade rushed defenseless at his enemy, and Emerald sent a bolt of cold lightning into his belly. Spade collapsed from the wound to his abdomen, and slid face-first through the wet grass into Emerald’s hooves.

“Princess,” said Emerald, “you must know a spell to contain the magic of prisoners. Care to do the honors?”

Without responding Celestia cast a spell on the dark-coated Earth stallion, then stepped back to give Emerald room.

“I am only afraid that it will not contain alchemy,” said the Princess.

No sooner had she said this than Stowaway Spade vanished in a familiar flash, leaving a bare spot in the grass where he had been.

“Where’d he go!” cried Opalwater.

“He’s escaped into the Umbra,” said Celestia.

“Damn it!” Emerald yelled. He screamed with frustration, shouting until his throat hurt. With all the force that he could muster he kicked the unconscious lieutenant, and stomped him until he felt the bones give way beneath his strength. Mercury had to pull him away for fear he would kill the helpless prisoner.

“Emerald, calm down,” said the Princess.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Emerald barked. He was beginning to cry. “If I follow him into the Umbra, I’m lost. But if I don’t find him, we might never understand what happened here tonight. Luna will be as good as dead for two thousand years. So don’t tell me to be calm!”

The tears kept coming. He fell to his knees, sunk his head into the earth and tried to clear his mind. He wished he could escape from it all; he wished he could run away where no one could blame him for his failure.

A brilliant white dove flashed across his mind’s eye, whispering encouragement. In the bushes White Bird was tense. “Come on, Emerald,” fell from his lips more than once, and he sweated anxiously.

Slowly everything became clear to Emerald. The sky seemed illuminated by the Sun itself. He looked around himself in a daze. A stimulating calm came over him. Energy poured through him, so strong, like the pulsating of magic flowing into his heart. He felt as he did whenever he used time magic to heal himself. He felt invigorated. He felt at peace.

He stood up.

“I’m going to follow Spade into the Umbra,” said Emerald, brushing himself off.

“Are you insane?” said Mercury. “You’ll end up in the Nethers!”

“Not if I have no intention of hurting him.”

Mercury and the Princess stared at him blankly.

“I only want to rescue Luna,” he went on. “After Spade tells me how, I’ll leave him be.”

“What about your revenge?” said Celestia, astonished at Emerald’s sudden magnanimity.

“River Rose is dead,” he replied, his head downcast. “The best I can do is to stop this petty feud where it stands. No one else has to die on my account. I forgive him.”

With these words a second wave of peacefulness absorbed him. He could not help smiling.

“He can’t have gotten far,” he said, removing his cloak and saddlebag. “See you on the other side.”

Emerald disappeared inside a flash of light and found himself in the Umbra. Even this place, a world of shadows, held no darkness for him, who saw it as a well-lit plain for the first time, though it had been pure darkness on every visit in the past. Now there was grass at tall as his knees and a pure, golden light that seemed to shine forth from everything, leaving not one inch in shade.

Emerald found Stowaway Spade doubled over beside a large rock, desperately pressing his wound shut. When he saw Emerald approaching, he began to crawl away in a panic.

“How did you follow me?” he shouted.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Spade,” said Emerald, his voice full of pure tranquility.

“Like hell you ain’t! You came here to finish me!”

“I can’t harm you in here. I’ve come after you because I want you to tell me how you broke my seal. All I want is to help my friend. You have my word on that.”

“The word of a liar!” Spade hissed. He was breathing sporadically and wincing in pain. “You’re both liars!”

“Both?” Emerald blinked.

“You and White Bird,” said Spade. “He said you couldn’t follow me here. He also said not to attack you if you did.”

“Spade, no!” Emerald shrieked.

He was too late. In an instant Spade had cast a cold lightning spell at Emerald and was pulled into the floor of the Umbra as if it were quicksand, followed by the spell itself. Emerald stood in the spectral meadow, devastated but unharmed.

He wiped a tear from his eye and took a deep breath in.

“You’re not getting away that easily,” he said. Without a moment’s pause he began to sink into the soil, through the grass and into darkness.

The Nethers were cold and wet, cavelike and unearthly. The only light came from a set of phosphorescent structures like stalagmites. He found Spade in the fetal position, cowering and glancing round as if the dim light of the cave could not reach eyes so clouded with hate. He had a look on his face that seemed to know it was facing death. At last Spade noticed Emerald before him and looked as if he might begin to sob.

“Son of a dam,” he muttered, his voice barely strong enough to whisper.

“Do you know where you are, Spade?” said Emerald.

No answer.

“You’re in the Nethers. It’s where you go if you try to hurt someone in the Umbra. It’s also where I would have ended up if I wanted to hurt you. It’s the perfect prison. There’s only one way out: you have to let me rescue you. Otherwise no one will come. Only the victim can pull his attacker from the Nethers.”

Spade was silent for a long time, but kept gasping for breath like a child who had cried too long.

“I forgive you, Spade.”

“You forgive me?” Spade croaked.

“I forgive you for River Rose, and I forgive you for Luna. All I can do is pray that you’ll forgive me for all I’ve done to you—and that you’ll help me to unseal Luna, so that I won’t have to live these thousand years without her.”

Spade cast his eyes to the floor of the cave, breathing with great difficulty.

“You deserve it,” he said weakly. “You deserve to suffer.”

“I know.”

Emerald bent his horn toward Spade and absorbed his wound in the light of time magic. In a matter of seconds the wound was healed to the last hair on Spade’s side, and his breathing steadied.

“But she doesn’t,” said Emerald, smiling at Spade as he offered him his hoof. Without raising his head or saying a word, Spade took Emerald’s hoof and lifted himself up.

Emerald pulled Spade out of the Nethers and into the Umbra, then from there back into the clearing where the Princess, Mercury, and the privates from the five-hundred first were waiting anxiously.

“Emerald!” said Celestia when he appeared with Spade at his side. “What happened?”

“Later,” said Emerald. “Do you have the Elements?”

The Princess shook her head.

“We searched for them around the entire perimeter, but we couldn’t find them. It’s as if they vanished.”

“That’s strange,” Emerald mused. Then, turning to Spade: “We’re returning to the palace now. Would you mind if we contained you temporarily?”

Spade kept his head low and said nothing. Emerald nodded to the Princess, who cast a containment spell around Spade so he could make no attempt to escape.

Among the thorny brier White Bird was laughing to himself and clapping his hooves together quietly. “Great work, Emerald,” he kept saying. “Really fine work.” And after relishing his victory for a moment, he made off with the Elements toward Canterlot, eager to arrive before the Princess and her party.

The group walked the two-hour journey back to the castle. The entire time Spade uttered not a sound, and when they entered the palace dungeon, he allowed himself to be placed quietly in a cell. He was given food and an hour’s rest, but still was unwilling to speak when spoken to.

“We cannot waste any more time, Emerald,” said Celestia when their first attempt at interviewing him produced no results. “I can keep the Moon from setting, but I cannot keep it Full.”

“Be patient, Princess,” said Emerald. “Twilight Sparkle has been preparing the Blue Swamp Lily potion since we set him in the dungeon. Even a clinical mute will talk through a truthfulness potion. It should be ready soon.”

“How soon?” Celestia cried. “I do not want to wait another month to see my sister alive!”

“It should take another hour to be ready. Twilight is still new at it, so she may be producing it more slowly than I—”

“Then help her to finish it sooner,” said the Princess.

“Agree to wait patiently and watch over Spade,” said Emerald, “and I will see to the potion.”

Reluctantly the Princess agreed to stay in the dungeon while Emerald and Twilight prepared the Blue Swamp Lily. When the potion was ready they carried it in to Spade in an ordinary goblet and made him drink it.

Spade drained the potion quickly. Emerald waited for the signs that the potion had entered his blood, and began the interview. Spade told him everything, from beginning to end, in one fluid narrative.

XVIII. The White Bird

“I was tracking ya for quite a stretch,” Spade began. “After a time I came across a pair of foals what seen ya pass them not too long afore. They was fetchin’ water, so it’s just dumb luck I’m guessin’.

“By what some others been sayin’, you can disappear. Hell, it’s gotten easier to track you on account o’ that, seeing’s how that kinda thing spreads legends. So I reckoned you traveled invisible most days. Must ha’ been tired the day those foals saw ya.

“Now, Ponyville ain’t a big place. All the same I weren’t keen on wastin’ my time a-snipe hunting after ya. If ya saw me and runoft, what’s the point? So I figured I’d rout ya out.”

“The Hydra,” Emerald interjected.

“Aye. But I found the Hydra’s lair in the marshes, and I saw I couldn’t move it by my lonesome. I went lookin’ fer help. I asked around among some old vagrants I knew in the country, lookin’ fer a powerful unicorn what wasn’t scared to dirty his hooves.

“They pointed me to a feller named White Bird. Rumors said he was powerful enough to fight the Princesses, but he had a code. They was all too scared to recommend him, as anyone what worked with him was never seen again. They said he had a code, and my work might not fit it.

Don’t ask me how I found him, on account o’ he found me. Don’t ask me how he did that, neither. When I met him he already knew all about ya, Emerald. That’s the strangest part of all.

“He said he’d help me find ya, and kill ya. I told him he weren’t allowed to lay a hoof on ya, cause you was mine and all, and he swore it.

“But this stallion White Bird ain’t any old unicorn. He’s stronger than you or me could ever hope to be. If I challenged him I’d be belly-up afore I could get a shot in. And he ain’t one for favors. If I wanted his help, I had to do something in return, that’s what he said. Never told me the whole deal, but he said I had to help him swipe the Elements of Harmony.

“‘Now if you’re so strong,’ I says, ‘why ain’t you bustin’ ‘em out yerself?’ He looks at me and he says, ‘There’s more to it than breaking them out. If you’re to be inculpable you need a scapegoat.’

“So I start thinking I’m gonna take the fall for him, but he says to make the guards carry ’em away from the castle. He shows me the Blue Swamp Lily and tells me how to use it, and now I’m thinking I got me a pretty good trump card to use on you.

“Then we did the Hydra. I knew you was too strong to be killed by a Hydra. Dang things can’t even walk straight half the time, all those heads on ‘em. But I also knew you couldn’t pass up a challenge like that. You think yer so righteous, Emerald, but I know ya better than that. All you want’s to be seen as the hero.”

“Stick to the question, Spade,” said the Princess.

Immediately the Swamp Lily snapped Stowaway Spade from his digression and he obeyed.

“When the Princess here showed up, I busted my shoulder I was so mad. There you were, right under my snout after all these years, and I couldn’t gitcha. I ain’t fool enough to take on the Princess of the Day, even after hearin’ stories of that Changeling Queen.

“White Bird told me I’d still have my chance. After all, now that you was in favor with the Court, it wouldn’t be tough at all to find ya. The tricky part was findin’ ya off guard, and White Bird helped me with that.

“Now I ain’t scared of nopony, but some of the things White Bird knew, and some of the things he did, they bordered on the supernatural. He told me I would find you at a party right there in Ponyville in just two days’ time, and he made me be patient.

“Of course I didn’t trust him, so I followed y’all to Canterlot. I figured you was planning something with the Princesses, now they was with you, but I couldn’t reckon what. But I knew you never went out of yer way ‘less it were to find some way of gettin’ at me.

“When you headed back to Ponyville alone I knew White Bird was right and that I shoulda listened. I know the Princess of the Night would never ha’ stopped me if I hadn’t gone to Canterlot and gotten myself shadowed; and I’d ha’ had my revenge that night. I trusted White Bird from then on, but it ain’t as if I liked it.

“After that I set about gettin’ the Royal Guard on our side. White Bird brought me to Canterlot, gave me some potions, told me what to do, who I had to hit. He did none of that work himself; I scraped along on my gimp leg all night doin’ that for him.

“I turned the Guard against ya, Emerald. I made ‘em watch ya fer any sign you might be vulnerable. When you took yer walk with the Princess in the castle garden, I had my shot. And I weren’t ungrateful of the opportunity to get that no-good blueblood back fer gettin’ in the way of—”

Emerald’s hoof landed square on Stowaway Spade’s jaw, sending him tumbling backward across the small cell. Celestia said nothing; Emerald said nothing. Spade lifted himself off the floor placidly and continued his story.

“You foiled that plan, too, Emerald. Always you was too strong, but I’d be damned afore I let White Bird do ya for me.

“After you sealed my leg and took away my magic, White Bird told me there was a way to fix me up. But it needed the Elements to work, so we got to plannin’ that right quick. He said we would have to wait till the Full Moon to use them, though, so I tried to put off helpin’ him steal them in case he tried to hightail it and leave me crippled. But I decided that then was the time to take ‘em.

“I knew the castle would be on guard after I attacked y’all, and we could only get so many of the Royal Guard between our hooves, so I called on White Bird and told him I was ready to move. So we got everythin’ ready and I was there to help out. White Bird did all the spell breakin’ on account of my magic wasn’t workin’. My leg was hurtin’ bad, too, and I was startin’ to trip up. We was on the castle ground when my leg stiffed up and I started to tumble. Three guards heard me. If it weren’t for Birdy, we’d ha’ been spotted.

“White Bird runs down to me, takes me by the leg, and next thing I know I’m sitting in this valley, this place where we agreed to hide the Elements till the Full Moon—Sparkling Crag it’s called—and I’ve just got this feeling I’m s’posta wait there. Was only later I learned how Birdy managed the job. He found the guards, wiped their memories, sashayed in like he does, and busted the Elements free while our guys kept lookout.

“He told them boys to carry the Elements to me in Sparkling Crag. They get there, help me fix up that damn leg, bathe in the river and I go to sleep.

“When I woke up White Bird was there. Boy he chewed me out. He was mighty sore my leg almost ruined the job, and he let me know it. Then he wiped our boys’ memories too and left, not to be disturbed till the Harvest Moon, he says.

“Galeheart and Storm Cloud, they couldn’t even remember how they busted the Elements out. For them it was missing time. One second they’re waitin’ orders, the next they’re runnin’ for the forest. So I figured that how he wanted it, and I didn’t bring it up.

“Then the sergeant here and the other young’uns found us. We heard ‘em comin’ a mile away, and I had Storm Cloud and Galeheart check it out ahead of me. The kid got the better of ‘em, and took ‘em off to be locked up.

“Took me the better part of an hour to pluck up the courage to contact White Bird and tell him what happened. White Bird had no interest in bustin’ ‘em out, said they were useless now the job was done. I told him I had promised their freedom for their help, and it was like somethin’ lit a fire under his tail. Whatever anypony else may say about him, he’s a stallion what honors a deal, and he don’t take kindly to those who don’t keep up their end.

“That night we broke ‘em out. Oh, he was real ornery when he found out we hid the Elements in that Shadow World. Still don’t even know what that damn place is, do I, but he flew off his rocker, callin’ it unsecured and the other thing. Well we pulled the Elements out, me and Galeheart, and when we came back Storm Cloud was gone.”

“What happened to him?” said Emerald.

“White Bird got rid of him. ‘Saw to him,’ that’s how he put it. Said he was a snitch and had to see to him. I didn’t really see the point, but I didn’t argue. White Bird ain’t the type of stallion you argue with. But what he actually did with the old boy I haven’t the foggiest.

“He left me for a week. Galeheart taught me to enter the Shadow place in case I needed to be safe, and White Bird came back on the Full Moon to help me break your seal.”

“Breaking the seal,” Emerald interrupted; “how did you do that? Was there any trick to it?”

“Ain’t no clue, really,” Spade shrugged. “None more than what you’d ha’ seen if you was watchin’ us. There was some circles in the ground, the Elements all arranged, and these things that White Bird called ‘Experientias’.”

“Experientias?” said Emerald. “What was their purpose?”

“White Bird said I couldn’t experience all six states of Harmony at once, so they did it for me. Said it was like cheatin’. That flower, the River Rose, White Bird made me eat it. Said it interacted with the Elements and the Experientias. Made it possible. Otherwise it’s all a mystery. White Bird took care of most of the magic. In any case we just finished up when y’all showed up and right near killed Galeheart. White Bird must ha’ made off with the Elements.”

“Wait,” said Emerald when Spade had finished his narrative. “You said White Bird helped you break the seal, but that’s impossible. We watched the entire ceremony. You and Galeheart were the only ones in that field tonight.”

Spade laughed.

“And lemme guess,” he said, “you remember seein’ a pretty white dove in the area?”

Emerald and Celestia stood in silent thought for a moment.

“That was White Bird,” Spade said. “If Birdy don’t want you rememberin’ him, you won’t remember him. Don’t ask me how he does it. He don’t even cast a spell, far as I can tell. He just erases himself from your mind, and all that’s left is a great white bird. I reckon the old nag thinks it’s poetic.”

Emerald was awestruck.

“You say this stallion knew everything about us?” he asked Spade, deeply vexed.

Spade nodded.

“Six hundred years ago, when you chased me out of my seaside home, I was running in the woods and I saw a white bird. It was so bright it looked like the sky had ripped open. Could that have been White Bird?”

“I seen the same thing right afore I attacked you,” said Spade. “That same night. I couldn’t make heads or tails of it, but yeah, it coulda been.”

“He’s not an alicorn?” said Emerald, growing pale.

“Nah, not that I know. First off he ain’t got wings. But he knows more about magic than you or me ever will, that’s for sure. If I kept myself alive this long with yer alchemy, who’s to say he’d need anything more than what I got?”

“Spade, what does White Bird look like?”

“You’re wastin’ yer time,” Spade coughed. “Even if ya knew, you take one step toward him and you’ll forget you ever saw him. Even to my boys in the hills what told me about him, he’s only a rumor, like a folk tale.”

“This is getting us nowhere,” Celestia interceded. “Right now all we’ve learned is that Spade knows nothing of the unsealing ritual—which, I might add, is the only reason we’ve gone through the trouble of capturing him; and that his only suggestion as to someone who might, is an apparition that cannot be found. The Full Moon is waning, Emerald, and we are running out of time to save my sister.”

“Be patient, Princess,” said Emerald. “No one wants to see Luna safe more than I, not even you. If I can bear this setback, so can you.”

Celestia bit her tongue and turned away from the others.

“My biggest question is why he left your memory so completely intact, Spade? Doesn’t it seem odd that even after parting ways with you completely, this stallion—who, as you put it, found it necessary to ‘see to’ a snitch who knew next to nothing—would leave you to inform your enemies about him? Surely he was watching over while we fought? At any time he could have seen you were losing and taken your memory. So why?”

“I didn’t think about it,” Spade shrugged. “Maybe he reckoned it didn’t matter anyway, once he got what he came for.”

Emerald shook his head, turning to Celestia.

“It’s more likely,” he whispered, “this White Bird wanted us to know about him.”

“I agree,” the Princess sighed. “I only wish we knew how to find him. Nor do we understand his intentions. He has made it quite clear that he is an enemy, and yet as far as we can tell he has no intention of harming you.”

“Spade,” said Emerald, “is this everything you know about White Bird?”

“Yeah,” Spade said with a nod.

“Then we have nothing more to say to you. Follow me.”

Emerald led Spade out of the small cell and into the center of the dungeon. He told Spade to sit and he obeyed. Around the shackled Earth stallion Emerald Alembic drew seals and symbols in chalk on the flagstone floor. He circumscribed Spade with an eight-pointed star, touched up the seals, and told Mercury and the Princess to guard him while he fetched the necessary tools for the ritual.

When Emerald returned Spade had not moved an inch. But as Emerald began to place the relics around the circle, Spade spoke.

“I remember this setup,” he said. “This is what ya did to me the night ya first attacked. This is how you made me young again. But what’s with all the gizmos this time ‘round?”

“After tonight,” said Emerald, coolly, “you will no longer be Stowaway Spade. The time spell requires only the seals to work. Everything else is for your memory.

Spade closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose.

“All the same to me,” he shrugged. “Just promise I won’t never see you again, after this.”

“I promise nothing.”

In a moment the dungeon became illuminated with unicorn magic, a great strobing of colors, and a terrible screeching that forced all present to shut up their ears with their hooves. The strobing subsided, and all that was left of Stowaway Spade was a tiny, coal-coated infant, blinking its confused green eyes at Emerald and the Princess of the Day.

The infant Spade was placed in the charge of a palace nurse to be watched over. Emerald and Celestia, together with Sergeant Mercury, ascended hurriedly to the Watchtower Room, impatient at least to attempt to break the seal on Princess Luna before the Full Moon had faded.

Emerald prepared everything to the best of his ability: the Elemental seals were placed in a hexagram as he had observed, mimicking the positions of the true Elements of Harmony. He had the city’s swiftest messenger dispatched into the midnight fields to gather River Roses, and in the meantime he laid the circles just as he had observed in Spade’s own ritual. All that remained was the Experientias.

“I have a vague recollection of Experientias,” said Emerald at last, “but only what I’ve heard in stories. They were used by shamans in the Copper Era to share memories. The shamans pulled knowledge and experience from their own minds, and their students would view the resulting Experientias in a scrying stone. Supposedly, this is how apprentice shamans became masters in a matter of weeks. But this was long before even my time.”

“Do you think the spell will work without them?” said the nervous Princess.

“It’s hard to say. Judging by what Spade said, as long as the caster can command all six Elements, it seems that even consuming the River Rose is unnecessary. I don’t wish to take that chance. But as to gathering Experientias, I do not know where we would start, or even how to accomplish such a thing. So we will have to make do without them.”

“Is everything ready, then?” asked Mercury.

Emerald nodded.

“Princess,” he said, “would you carry Luna in so we can begin?”

Celestia bowed her head and passed solemnly into the dark rotunda, isolated from the watch room by lavender drapes. Emerald busied himself by beginning to chew the honey-sweet River Rose, and the calmness of sound sleep came over him. He felt happier than at any other moment in his life, confident now of his ability to rescue his friend.

All at once Emerald’s peaceful thoughts were interrupted by an agonized scream. Instantly he was reminded of his surroundings. Mercury jumped to his hooves with all his martial alertness, and the two of them set their eyes upon Celestia, who continued to wail hysterically before the curtained room.

“What’s wrong?” Emerald shouted, rushing toward her.

She could give no answer; her crying would not cease long enough to let her speak. She simply pointed a trembling hoof toward the black rotunda, where they could see that Luna’s bed sat empty.

Luna was gone.

XIX. Masters of Harmony

However they tried, neither Emerald nor Mercury could console the Princess of the Day. She had stopped shouting, but no words could bring her crying to cease. The loss of her sister’s body, far more than the seal itself, had stolen her hope, so that she wished only to retreat into her heart, and never to face the terrible truth that she had seen.

“We cannot waste time here,” said Emerald at last, as Celestia waved away his attempts to soothe her. “Not any more. Mercury, go and wake the members of your squad, ponies you can trust, and meet me in the Grand Hall. Quickly now.”

Right away Sergeant Mercury hurried down the steps of the tower knocking one by one at each of the chambers that housed a member of his group. Gumdrop came out quickly, having been unable to sleep, and Plum Cake too. Opalwater answered slowly, rubbing his eyes. He shot to attention when Mercury told them that the Princess of the Night had disappeared. Together they descended to the atrium, and from there into the Grand Hall which leads out to the castle grounds.

Emerald hurried to Twilight’s room and knocked furiously. The young unicorn answered with the same urgency, following him down the steps of the tower without demanding any explanation. She nearly fell to her knees when he told her.

“So what’s the plan?” she said, regaining her composure.

“I’ll tell you when we’re all together,” said Emerald.

They hurried toward the Grand Hall where the four able members of the 501st were waiting. Emerald, in a commanding voice, told them he would be setting off immediately to the east, and the others, though unaware of where they were headed, followed without question. Twilight alone spoke up a second time.

“Where are we going, Emerald?” she said. “Do you know what happened to Princess Luna?”

“There’s a man who was helping Spade,” he explained. “I would wager my life he took her. He and Spade rendezvoused in Sparkling Crag, in Glimmerwood. That’s where we’ll find them.”

“Are you expecting a fight?” she asked, nervously. “Emerald?”

“We had better hurry,” said Emerald, increasing his pace. He did not utter another word until they reached the forest’s edge. Even as they passed Spade’s ritual site, as barren as they had left it, he only breathed more heavily for a time.

“I do not need to warn you of the forest’s dangers,” he said when they stood before the majestic border trees of Glimmerwood. “At this hour the Ursas will be foraging, and the elk should be feeding, too. The cows will be extra ferocious under the influence of the Agave sap, so be sharp. I’ve brought with me an invisibility charm that should shield us all, but do not take it lightly.

“We will be heading toward the valley where the 501st was attacked by Spade and his followers only a week ago. Be prepared to do whatever it takes to rescue the Princess from her abductor. Does everyone understand?”

A singular ‘Aye!’ resounded all around.

“Then off we go.”

Emerald Alembic cleared a large opening from the underbrush and forced his way into the wood. The vines and branches seemed to part before him as he walked, as if some power compelled them to yield, though he used no magic. He forged ahead, paying no attention to the well-being or presence of the rest of his company; Twilight Sparkle took it upon herself to see to that.

The sounds of the forest, whether the cries of predatory birds or the snapping of branches beneath the hooves of wild beasts, began to spook the callow members of the 501st, who remembered all too well their last adventure here. But Emerald remained unshaken. On the contrary, each tiny sound apparently augmented his resolve, and his pace increased while the others shrank in fear. Only Twilight’s gentle reminders made Emerald aware of the great distance this put between them.

When once Emerald was paused and waiting for the others to catch him up, the ground shook fiercely once, again, and then a third time. The shaking ceased and the others hurried to Emerald’s side.

“Emerald,” said Mercury, “was that—”

“An Ursa,” Emerald said, staring intently to the southeast. “She isn’t far from here, but don’t worry. We won’t cross her path.”

“Why’s it stopped?” said Gumdrop. “Isn’t it moving?”

“No, no,” Emerald replied. “Ursas are very slothful creatures, because of their size. To move even a bit requires tremendous energy. They find a source of food, settle in, and feed until it’s gone, then return to their caves to sleep.”

“That’s right,” Mercury nodded, greedy to show off his learning as well. “They eat the tender leaves and branches off the treetops, and leave the older foliage alive to produce new shoots. They prefer young elm leaves, which is why so many have migrated east to forests like this one.”

“Actually they’re hibernatory animals,” Emerald interjected, keeping his eyes forward as if he were talking to no one; “more than anything they crave the taste of leaves in early autumn, just before they turn. Their favorite foliage is maple, so most Ursa territory is in the north where maple is abundant. The Ursas that live in this forest are most likely outliers or refugees. But because this forest is predominantly redwood, and inedible to them, they prefer the elms that grow here.”

Mercury felt challenged and began to speak indignantly.

“Where did you study Ursas?” he asked, a haughty and skeptical tone about him. “Canterlot University wouldn’t have taught you such a thing.”

Emerald gave off the slightest noise that resembled a laugh.

“I haven’t studied Ursas,” said Emerald. For an instant Mercury allowed himself a triumphant smile and a quick glance around at the witnesses to his victory. Then Emerald added: “I used to live with the Ursas.”

“You’re kidding!” Gumdrop let her jaw drop. “You lived with Ursas?”

“When I was in hiding,” said Emerald, growing reticent. “In the north. I don’t enjoy discussing it.”

Once again the earth trembled under the distant footfall of the mystical creatures, and all in the company were silent. The trees began to thin and the underbrush became steadily more edible as they progressed.

“We’re approaching the valley,” said Mercury.

“I know,” said Emerald. He felt a powerful magical signature up ahead and bade everyone to stop.

“What is it, Emerald?” said Twilight. “The abductor?”

Emerald shook his head. He parted the vines that hung like a veil against the valley. There sat the dimmest silhouette of a tall pony at the riverside, and stretched out across from her along the winding stream, casting a shadow over the entire valley, lay an Ursa Major, whose spangled coat sparkled like starlight. The great bear had her head on her paws, and intelligent eyes were flitting across the river where the pony sat, as if the two were having a silent conversation.

The Ursa turned her head toward them slowly as a tortoise would have done, and spotting them began to lift her massive frame above the mountains. The valley shook as if with fear, and all the members of the 501st knew nothing else to do but emulate the hills and shake in kind. Before the six could act, the Ursa turned away and walked along the river to the east, leaving them behind.

Her massive shadow followed and let the moonlight fall upon the solitary pony, who turned and saw the faces in the trees. She jumped to her hooves, overcome with joy.

“Emerald?” she called.

“Luna!” he cried in return.

The Princess of the Night came bounding over stones and tall orange grass, and leapt into the stallion’s arms. He felt the patter of a tear against his back, and returned her embrace with equal passion.

“Oh, Em!” she said, weeping. “You’re all right!”

“Me?” said Emerald. “How did you get here?”

“I don’t know. The last thing I remember I was standing over you when you were weak, and then it all goes black. Oh, Em, I was so afraid that they would kill you. Where’s my sister? Where is Celestia? Is she not with you?”

“The time will come, Luna,” said Emerald, seizing her shoulders and holding her in front of himself. “I need you to tell me anything, anything at all, that you have seen since waking up. Did you see anyone? Did anyone talk to you?”

The Princess shook her head.

“I woke up here like I had gone to sleep in the grass,” she said. “There was no one, and I have spoken only to Gesmene—the Ursa who guards this valley,” she added quickly to subdue their questioning looks.

“You've seen nothing else?” Emerald insisted, a desperation reaching out to her through his speckled, golden eyes.

“There was a strange bird,” she answered after some thought.

Emerald’s heart skipped a beat.

“Strange?” he said.

“It was dazzling alabaster, and seamless,” Luna explained. “It appeared to be made of neither flesh nor feathers. It was flying away when I opened my eyes.”

Emerald’s suspicions, if ever he had doubted them, were confirmed at that moment. He gazed up at the hills and saw something else that made him positively dizzy: a barren cliff face of pure white chalk towering above them.

“ ‘I saw a white bird on a white cliff,’ ” he whispered, barely able to draw breath.

“What did you say, Emerald?” said Twilight.

“Your dream,” he said, turning to Luna. “A white bird on a white cliff. It came true.”

Luna was surprised; she hadn’t noticed.

“Emerald,” she said, “there’s something else. I should have mentioned it right away but I—”

“What is it,” he said urgently.

The Princess trotted to the river’s edge and reached beneath a precipitous rock. When she had located what she was looking for she retrieved it with her magic and returned to the others. She handed Emerald a loosely wrapped package of brown paper and cotton twine. It was addressed to him.

“Where did you get this?” he whispered.

“It was beside me when I regained consciousness. I hid it to keep it safe. I somehow felt that you would come, so I waited for you. I do not know who wrote it.”

“The stallion who brought you here must have—”

“What stallion?” said Luna. Her voice took on a sudden sternness; she would not concede until she was answered. “How did I get here? What happened to me that night?”

Emerald breathed in deeply and sighed. He told the Princess all that had happened in her absence, from start to finish, including the events which had concluded only hours before. When he had finished Luna was sitting in the grass, a glossy look veiling her eyes.

“From what you say,” Emerald continued, “the one who stole you from the palace and brought you here could only have been White Bird, the same stallion who was helping Spade. The package as well must be from him. I do not know what his agenda was, bringing you here and breaking the seal upon you, but I am apprehensive.”

“Will you open it?” said Luna, gesturing toward the package.

Emerald slipped it into his saddlebag.

“Later. Luna, when we return to Canterlot I would prefer that it remain a secret from Celestia until I am aware of its contents. She is troubled enough already. Can you agree to that?”

“Yes, Emerald.”

“Then we had better return to the palace. Mercury, lead the way.”

“Opalwater,” said Mercury, gesturing with a gentlecoltly wave of his hoof. “You are better with the vines than I.”

“Aye, chief,” said Opalwater, and marched into the words.

The journey back was marked irregularly by the bugling of the intoxicated elk, and once out of the forest there was only silence. The starlight seemed to jingle as it glistened, so silent was the night, and only now and then a mouse was caught up by an owl and carried to a lonely willow tree.

Opalwater led the charge, with Mercury and Gumdrop right behind. Twilight Sparkle walked with Plum Cake, and Emerald Alembic walked beside the Princess Luna far behind the rest, restlessly taking in the scenery of the night as if to stop his gaze from seeking her. No one said a word except to say the castle was in sight, or the journey near an end.

When they reached the city gates, they were greeted by the guards as conquering heroes. The fanfare of a hundred trumpets announced their arrival, waking ponies from their sleep at that early hour to watch the meager parade of lost princess and her rescuers. The six of them marched slowly to the castle, where they were welcomed by the cheering voices of every maid and servant in the palace. The ecstatic joy at having their Princess returned to them made fillies lean precariously from tower windows to see her with their own uncertain eyes.

It was Emerald who forced the masses back to make a path for them into the palace. Yet even in the palace servants crowded and did not give them passage until ordered by the voice of Luna herself.

They made their way up the steps to the Watchtower Room, where the Princess of the Day was still in tears and inconsolable. To her the peasant fanfare was a nuisance, and enraged her by its insensitivity to her grief. When Emerald entered with the members of the 501st she tried to shout them out, as desperately as he tried to calm her temper. Although the sister she was mourning entered with them, she was blinded by her misery.

Luna herself was heartbroken to see Celestia in such a state. She approached her sister slowly, placed a hoof upon her shoulder, and turned her sister’s head to face her own. At once Luna’s heart broke anew, but for a different reason: such relief fell over Celestia’s face, so much joy was written in her features, so much disbelief hung to the floor beside her jaw, that Luna began to cry as well.

Celestia jumped into her younger sister’s arms so suddenly that Luna nearly tumbled to the floor. They held each other tightly and let their tears fall on the other’s shoulders. It was a warm reunion that melted all the coldness and despair of that old stone room. No one was untouched by their sororal affection.

The Princess of the Day pulled herself from her sister, and looked up with shining eyes at Emerald Alembic. Her smile was pure gratitude, her gaze the love a sister feels for a brother. Even in her joy she could think only of the debt she owed him, and how she would repay it.

“Ask whatever you want,” Celestia told him in her ecstasy, “and if it dwells in this world I will see that you have it.”

Emerald gazed around the room with a dispassionate expression on his face. He looked at Luna, then at Twilight, then at Mercury and the privates of the five-hundred first relief squad.

“I can think of nothing I could want,” he answered, “that I don’t already have.”

Celestia gave him a fond smile.

“Sergeant Mercury,” she said.

“Yes, Your Highness,” said the sergeant, standing full at attention.

“Find a messenger at once, and tell him to toll the bells one hundred times, to celebrate the return of Equestria’s Princess of the Night. No one should be unaware of such a magnificent occasion.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Mercury, and he sped off alone to find a messenger. Not long afterward the message was received and the bells began to resonate throughout the city. For the better part of an hour no inch of the city was silent, but rang sympathetically with the bells of every tower in Canterlot. All were awake, and all rejoiced, and there were those who ran through the streets as criers, declaring that Princess Luna was revived.

Celestia never asked how Luna was unsealed. She did not seem to wonder. In all respects it was Emerald who was her savior. Just as he defied the odds in pulling Spade out of the Nethers, in her mind nothing was impossible to him if Luna’s safety was in question.

Faithful to Emerald’s wishes, no one broached the subject of the package that was left for him with Luna, and it remained a secret. Emerald, in the chaos of the celebration, was able to make his way back to his chamber and deposit his saddlebag. He locked it in his chest of ingredients, to which the only key was his.

As the hours dragged on, the festive attitude was supplanted by exhaustion. None except Opalwater had slept since capturing Spade, and each was eager to find a bed. They all—Emerald Alembic, Twilight Sparkle, Mercury and the members of the five-oh-first—begged leave from the Princesses so they might sleep. Celestia herself was helped by Luna to the dark rotunda, and fell stubbornly asleep on Luna’s bed. Luna alone stayed awake through the daylight.

Emerald entered his now-familiar chamber and bolted the door behind him. He hurried to the chest of ingredients and unlocked it quickly. His eyes were heavy and tired, but he could not sleep without knowing what was in the little brown parcel.

Cautiously, like a surgeon he unwrapped the package. What he found inside was a parchment wrapped around six small vials of opaque, blue liquid. He pulled the parchment away and stood the vials up along his desk. One side of the scroll was blank, on the other was a lengthy letter. Emerald straightened out the page with weights and read:

To His Eminence Emerald Alembic,

I hope that tonight’s events shall be enough to prove to you that I am no enemy of yours. Do not fret over my identity: that will be clear soon enough. As for the Elements, I pray that you will not begrudge my keeping them for some time. I belong to an order whose sole charge is the protection of the Elements and their bearers. Our prophetess has warned us that there is a danger of one, unbalanced and misguided, who may steal the Elements of Harmony and harness them for more nefarious ends. To prevent this I was tasked with retrieving them, to be placed in a more secure location.

Part of my charge, Emerald, was ensuring that you achieved the Inner Harmony that all of your race strive for. Your hatred for the Earth pony Stowaway Spade was your greatest obstacle to this. I must apologize for how I have misled and manipulated the both of you. Emerald, I made Spade stronger to make you stronger. However, you should know that I had no hand in the events that took place in the Royal Garden; that was entirely Spade’s initiative, and I would have prevented it had I foreseen it. I have done what I can to reconcile this oversight.

We are proud of the compassion with which you handled Stowaway Spade. You are certainly worthy to be called a Master of Harmony.

I am forbidden from any further disclosure to you for the time being, but your training is incomplete. When you are ready to meet me, visit Callisto, the Queen of the Ursas, before the Blue Harvest Moon, and she will bring you to us. You will find the shortest path lies in the Valley where I left your friend.

P.S., The Experientias are our gift to you. Use them to master the use of the Elements, and nothing can stand in your way.

Signed Reverently,
—The Order of the White Bird

* * *

At the end of the letter was an address in Canterlot, which Emerald read over briefly before setting the parchment aside. He was tremendously tired, but he was determined to investigate the Experientias. He fetched the obsidian scrying stone from the corner of another table and set it on his writing desk beside the vials and the letter.

He poured the contents of the vial labeled Magic onto the flat, polished surface of the obsidian bowl. The blue liquid spread evenly into a thin film inside the bowl, and Emerald gazed intently into its reflective surface. His head swam with images, his heart was lost in a tug of war between emotions, and he was bathed in an incorruptible peace.

There at his writing desk, beside the bowl and vials and White Bird’s letter, Emerald Alembic drifted off to sleep, and dreamed of River Rose.

[The End.]

XX. Epilogue

“Is this the address?” said Luna, pointing to the two-story workshop of a shoemaker. The building was growing crooked with age, and the stucco was cracked in every corner.

“Apartment C,” Emerald answered. “I know you wouldn’t expect it, but they’ve fallen on hard times, after all.”

They were on the market side of town, where nearly every shop had rooms for rent above its doors. They entered the cobbler’s shop and climbed the steep wooden stairs to the attic, where a door marked with a silver C capped the hallway.

Emerald knocked four times.

“In a second!” replied a mare’s voice from behind the door. The sound of an infant’s crying could be heard inside the apartment, and the crashing of clay dishes.

The latch clicked and the door opened upon a stout and tired-looking mare. She was less than half the height of either of the alicorns who greeted her, their horns scraping against the low attic ceiling even as they stooped. The mare’s face brightened when she recognized her visitors.

“Emerald!” she beamed, embracing the stately stallion. And with a curtsy, “We are honored to be visited by Your Highness.”

Luna bowed her head, bumping her horn on the rotting lintel.

“Come in, come in,” said the mare. “I didn’t expect you to come again so soon, Emerald, let alone that you would bring Her Majesty the Princess with you. Please forgive the mess, I am a new mother.”

“It’s quite all right,” said Luna.

“So, Topaz,” said Emerald, “where is the little bundle of joy?” He began poking his head nosily about the room.

“I’ve been trying to put him to bed in the parlor,” Topaz answered, leading them through the narrow apartment. “Mind the chairs! One day the stallion who designed this apartment is going to get a piece of my mind. Who ever heard of passing through the kitchen to reach the parlor? We used to live on Sponson Street! Now we’re reduced to this.”

“It’s the price of being in hiding, Topaz,” said Emerald. “I spent the last thousand years without a home, constantly wandering.”

“And now you live in the castle,” Topaz rebutted, cynically. “So if I wait a thousand years, I’ll get a castle of my own?”

Emerald shrugged.

“The future isn’t ours to know.”

“You’ll put in a good word for me, of course?”

“Of course.”

In the parlor the child was shifting in his crib and sobbing. The infant’s coat was black as coal, and when Emerald’s voice approached he looked up at his visitors with wondering green eyes. Emerald reached into his saddlebag and produced a beautifully painted toy train. He feigned engine noises and caught the child’s attention with it, and the baby began to laugh.

“There,” said Emerald. “Good as new. I have something for you as well, Topaz.”

He rummaged through his saddlebag again and pulled out a fine silk purse. He handed it to Topaz like a tenant paying his rent.

“There’s enough gold in that purse to keep you here for a year,” he said.

“Emerald, you’re too generous,” said Topaz . “I can’t accept this.”

“You’re not accepting it for yourself,” said Luna. “You’re accepting it for your child.”

“That child’s happiness is my responsibility,” Emerald added. “If we were able to house you somewhere nicer, we would. As it is you are safer here than anywhere else.”

The sound reached them of someone opening the door of the apartment. They all hurried to the hall to greet their host, a dark-grey and meek-looking stallion, who was hanging his jacket on the edge of a kitchen chair when they entered.

“Honey,” said Topaz, rushing to kiss him; “home already?”

“The factory had to shut down early today,” said Topaz’s husband. “Someone found a loose bolt in one of the machines, and the mechanics are doing a diagnostic. And you just know that if the production slows any more I’ll be the first one they lay off.”

He let out a long and weary sigh and held out his hoof to Emerald.

“Wonderful to see you again, Your Eminence.”

“Likewise.”

“Your Highness,” he said with a deep bow to Luna. He averted his eyes to the floor.

“Storm, honey,” said Topaz, “look what Emerald gave us.” She held up the heavy purse and let it jingle.

“Emerald, my job at the factory is—”

“Enough to pay your bills,” Emerald interceded, “and less than you deserve. The truth is, Storm Cloud, we did not come here just to check up on Spade.”

Storm Cloud’s eyebrows rose. “Oh?”

“How is Whitesnout doing?”

Storm Cloud sighed and sat in the chair where he had hung his jacket.

“So that’s why you’re here,” he said.

“I didn’t feel comfortable discussing it without involving Luna. That is why I have not brought it up until today.”

“So you know about White Bird?”

“Yes.”

“He only told me where they were living, you know,” said Storm Cloud. “I haven’t written them letters or anything.”

“So it’s true that they are alive?” said Luna.

Storm Cloud nodded.

“I figured as much,” said Emerald. “When White Bird said in his letter that he regretted what happened that night, I had a feeling Luna was not the only victim he had helped. And when I followed the address in his letter and found you here, I thought you might know something about it.”

“I don’t know much more than you,” said Storm Cloud. “When White Bird hid us here, he brought us food until I could find work. Eventually the night of the Full Moon arrived, and he came before moonrise. He told me he would have to help Spade that night, but before that he had something else to do as soon as the moon rose. When I asked him he told me that he would be raising seven stallions from the dead.

“I was so shocked by this I didn’t believe him, but he was very solemn. I asked him who they were, and he reminded me of the night Princess Luna was sealed by Spade. He was very talkative that evening, and he seemed sad. He gave me something.”

Storm Cloud walked to a drawer full of silverware, rummaged through the butter knives, and pulled out a small fragment of torn paper. He handed it to Emerald.

“It’s a list,” he said. “Seven names, and an address beside them each. I assume that’s where each of them is living now.”

“It says Whitesnout is living in Fillydelphia,” said Emerald, studying the paper.

“Well, he was Princess Celestia’s personal bodyguard, so I can see why he has gotten far away from here. I can’t even believe he’s hiding somewhere so populated. Even I have to use a fake name at the factory, and I was just a sergeant major.”

“Can I keep this?” Emerald held up the list.

“Go ahead,” said Storm Cloud. “I don’t want it.”

A short silence passed between the four of them while the infant laughed in his crib in the parlor. Topaz put a kettle on the stove for tea and sat beside her husband at the table. She pulled out chairs for Emerald and Luna, who thanked her and sat near the entrance.

“We can’t thank you enough for agreeing to care for Spade,” Emerald said as he sat. “It’s more than I ought to have asked of you.”

“Don’t be silly, Emerald,” said Topaz with a bright smile. “It’s difficult, but he really is a delight. We’ve wanted a foal for many years now, after all.”

“Have you thought of what to name him yet?”

“We were thinking Snowfall,” said Storm Cloud, “after my uncle.”

“That’s a good, gentle name,” Emerald smiled. He glanced through the short hall into the parlor at the laughing baby. “No cutie mark yet?”

“Heavens, no,” said Topaz. “He’s hardly even a foal yet.”

“Do you think his talent will be the same?” said Storm Cloud, nervously. “I only mean, will he be the same as he was?”

“No, no,” said Emerald. “A talent has as much to do with upbringing as it has with birth, if not more. He is not Stowaway Spade anymore. Raise him well, and he will grow into a fine stallion. Who’s to say what his new talent will be? But the same resentment will not grip his heart unless you put it there.”

“Exactly,” said Topaz. “Don’t speak nonsense, dear.”

“There would hardly be a point if Spade weren’t getting a second chance at life. That’s what I want for him. I’ve caused him too much pain. Now I only hope I can make it up.”

Emerald pushed his chair back and stood up to leave, and Luna followed him. Reaching into his saddlebag one last time, he extracted a small book with a binding of waxed paper, held shut by a piece of twine. A silk signet was sewn into the spine as a bookmark, and loose leaves of paper burst hectically from its pages, along with note stubs and pressed flower petals.

“When Snowfall is older, I want you to give him this,” he said, handing the fat little tome to Storm Cloud.

“What is it?”

“It’s my alchemy journal. I took his magic from him; when he proves himself a worthy stallion he should have it back.”

“I’ll keep it in our lockbox until he comes of age,” said Storm Cloud, setting the journal aside.

“Thank you for all your kindness, Emerald,” said Topaz. “And you, Princess Luna. I know this wouldn’t have happened without your help.”

“Not at all,” Luna blushed.

“I leave him to you now,” said Emerald. “Take care of him. Show him all the beautiful things this world tries to hide from us. Give him a dream, something lovely to yearn for. And don’t worry,” he added; “I’ll be watching over him.”

Emerald and Luna excused themselves and left the musty attic apartment, down the steps and out of the shoemaker’s shop. The sky was clear and the wind carried the odorous chill of late September through the crowded Canterlot market.

“The Blue Harvest Moon is just a week away,” said Luna when they were in the open air. “Do you still plan on meeting White Bird?”

Emerald smiled and fixed his eyes on her.

“All the things in this world fall under one of two categories,” he answered: “those which can be planned, and those which cannot be avoided. White Bird is the latter.”

“If you think it’s wise,” Luna conceded.

“Wise or not, I cannot help this feeling of obligation. In his letter White Bird told me that the Elements were at risk of being stolen by a rogue. We can’t let the Elements be used for evil, can we?”

“You are right, we cannot.”

The two alicorns, sapphire blue and emerald green, walked shoulder to shoulder through the bustling market. Putting their heads together they basked in the early twilight, and in the gas-lit lamps along the narrow street, where what little sun was left could never reach.

Emerald closed his eyes and let himself be led along by Luna’s stride. He allowed his mind to drift, and smiling he daydreamed of his newfound bliss; his newfound friends; his newfound home.