One year after the events of Harmonics, Scootaloo, Thistleroot, and Mimic return to Greenhaven Grotto. Within the long sealed ruins of Libiris, ancient spirits vie for power and ancient grudges rise anew.
One year has passed since the ancient spirits Discord and Nocturne returned to the world. Life has returned to normal for Thistleroot and his new friends, or at least as normal as it ever gets in Equestria. After receiving a job offer from Princess Celestia to research new kinds of fauna, he, Scootaloo, and Mimic, return to Greenhaven Grotto, and the newly unsealed Libiris.
What should have been a simple research assignment turns into more than any of them bargained for: ancient spirits, forgotten species, and a war between immortals that once threatened the entire world.
Thistleroot stepped out into the chill morning air and started down the main road. He hummed as he walked, a catchy tune that had been stuck in his head for the past couple days, and before long found himself bobbing his head in time to the song. He gave his saddle bag a shake every so often, adding the rattle of his tools to the mix.
The main road eventually came to an intersection just before the city gates, and Thistleroot turned left, circling around the outer edge of Camp Canterlot.
Not that it was much of a camp these days, now that Thistleroot thought about it. Each day more ponies returned to the city, and the housing for workers had spilled down the mountain path. The areas nearest the city even had more permanent structures built up, and at the base of the mountain, a pair of enterprising unicorn brothers had opened a lakeside resort on the beach Discord had created the year before.
As for the inside of the city, work in cleaning and rebuilding was continuing steadily. Alicorn magic in particular had been useful. Twilight Sparkle had on several occasions repaired damaged foundations that might otherwise have taken months or years to dig up and replace.
Still, it would be some time before the city was back to its former glory, and until then, ponies had to eat. Thistleroot arrived at his destination, a large gated garden to the east of Camp Canterlot. There were dozens set up around the area, enough to provide most of the food needed during the rebuilding process. Everything else was shipped in from Ponyville, Appleoosa, and other farming towns.
Sunlight spilled over the rows of bushy vegetables as the sun crested the horizon.
“Morning, Princess,” Thistleroot said, tilting his head in acknowledgement toward the sun. He set his pack down and got to work. His horn glowed and his tools lifted free from the pack, each wrapped in a dark blue cocoon of energy.
He made his way down the rows of plants, plucking weeds, pruning dead branches, sweeping fallen leaves, and watering. He started humming again as he worked, the task simple enough that it didn’t require his full attention. The song in his head built toward a crescendo, and he began tapping his trowel and shears against each other, drumming out a tuneless beat.
A cloud of silvery-green fire whipped through the air toward him. He flinched, taking half a step back before he realized it was just dragon mail. A sealed scroll spun into existence in front of him, and he smoothly caught it with his magic before it could fall.
His gardening tools clattered to the ground around him.
He sighed and glanced over his shoulder, making sure nopony had seen that. Satisfied that he was alone, he pulled the ribbon off the scroll and unfurled it.
Dear Thistleroot,
I have recently received reports of a new kind of species appearing in Western Equestria. I would like to have it studied closer, and as one of the few botomancy experts remaining near Canterlot, I could think of nopony better suited for the job. If you are interested, I have time open to meet for tea at ten to discuss the details further.
Princess Celestia.
Thistleroot read through the letter once, then twice. A new kind of plant? Studied at the behest of Princess Celestia herself? He read the letter a third time, just to be sure he hadn’t misread. An opportunity like that could make his career!
“I... I can’t believe it,” he said, holding the letter up. “I... I have Princess Celestia’s autograph!”
*****
Thistleroot chuckled nervously to himself as he walked up the steps toward Canterlot Castle. His few times visiting seemed so long ago, and he’d never gone alone.
The castle itself wasn’t completely rebuilt, but it was further along than most of the city. Enough that Princess Celestia and Princess Luna had begun holding their courts again. He nodded toward the Royal Guards at the front gates and levitated the scroll toward them. “Uh, hi there. I have an invitation.”
One of the guards looked over the scroll and then nodded. “Follow me.”
The guard led him through the front doors and turned to the right, starting up a flight of stairs. The fine decor of the entrance hall ended almost immediately, and the castle became a series of bare halls, some of which were closed off and still under construction.
They reached the top of a second flight of stairs, and Thistleroot saw two more guards ahead, standing on either side of a door. The guard escorting Thistleroot approached, spoke with one of them, and then knocked. The door knob glowed with a soft glow and the door opened.
“There is a pony by the name of Thistleroot here to see you, Princess.”
“Send him in.”
The guard stood aside, and with a deep breath to steady his nerves, Thistleroot walked through the door.
The room beyond looked like a simple study. The back wall was lined with bookcases, and a cluttered desk stood against the right wall. To the left was a table, and sitting at the table was Princess Celestia. She smiled when he entered, a warm smile that did more to put him at ease than his own mental pep-talks. “Thistleroot. Welcome to the newly reopened Canterlot Castle.”
Thistleroot, thinking of the barren halls and unfinished construction, opened his mouth to quip that it had looked better in the brochures, remembered who he was talking to, and immediately shut it again. He bowed low, a bit faster than he meant to, and nearly threw himself off balance. “Uh, thank you for inviting me, your highness.”
“Sit,” Princess Celestia said, perfectly composed, though Thistleroot imagined the tiniest hint of amusement in her eyes as he fumbled. He moved to the closest seat, and as he did so, the princess used her magic to pour him and herself cups of tea.
“Thank you, princess,” he said. He took a sip, more to be polite than anything, and then blinked and looked down at the cup and took another sip.
“Jasmine is your favorite, right?” The princess asked.
Thistleroot nodded, and then blinked again. “Uh, how did you know that?”
The princess smiled. “Well, it might be that I’m an alicorn princess and that nothing in this city happens without my knowledge.”
Right, that made sense, Thistleroot thought nervously, wondering what exactly he was doing talking to the princess like she was any other pony. He shouldn’t—
“Or it might be that I asked Scootaloo yesterday,” Princess Celestia continued with a wink.
Or that. Yeah, that made more sense. It was clear between the tea and the joking that the princess was trying to make him feel welcome. Just like she had the year before, after the Grand Galloping Gala. Yes, she was Princess Celestia, a fact that Thistleroot wasn’t going to forget any time soon, but she was also one of the kindest, warmest ponies he’d ever met. He relaxed, just a bit, and the princess smiled.
“So, I invited you to talk about a job opportunity,” the princess said. “Though if you’ll indulge me in a few questions before we discuss the details?”
“Oh, of course,” Thistleroot said, straightening, his curiosity rising.
“What do you know of Lignum Viventem?”
Thistleroot took another sip of tea to give himself some time to think. “Not that much,” he admitted. “They’re a fairly niche area of study. The term refers to a narrow classification of creatures that aren’t flora or fauna, but a little of both. Timberwolves, brambleflies, that kind of thing.”
The princess nodded. “There’s been a recent discovery out in the west, past White Tail Woods of a new species. One that seems to fall into the classification, and exhibits higher levels of intelligence, though communication with them has only been achieved through simple gestures. They were first discovered by a research team located in the area, but the ponies that discovered them are specialized in magical research, so they requested assistance.”
Thistleroot sipped at the tea again, taking in what the princess was telling him. The kinds of creatures she was talking about were rare enough that the discovery of even a small insect-like creature would be big news. Pony-like additions were unheard of.
“It’s not really my area,” Thistleroot said. “The plant part, sure.”
“I’m planning on sending a researcher of exotic fauna as well,” Celestia said. “The two of you would be working together. Do you think you would be interested.”
“Well, yeah. I mean, how many opportunities like this can a pony expect in a lifetime?” Thistleroot answered honestly. Another thought crossed his mind, and his smile faltered.
Celestia floated a stack from her desk: a thin, dark, bound book and several loose papers. On top were three train tickets. They crossed the room to settle on the table in front of him. “I took the liberty of including some extra tickets, in case you had any friends you wanted to invite. They could probably use a vacation. I’ll speak with Applejack, to ensure your garden is cared for. And all lodging will be provided, of course.”
Thistleroot’s smile brightened. “Wow. Yeah, they would probably like a vacation.”
“Well, if you’re sure that you accept,” the princess paused, and Thistleroot nodded an assurance, “then I suggest catching the train this afternoon. No time like the present, right?”
“Oh, uh, sure. Of course. I should go ask, then. I mean, not to be rude.”
“Of course,” Princess Celestia said, smiling again. Thistleroot took one last drink of tea, popped one of the biscuits into his mouth, and bowed several times as he backed out of the room, the stack of papers floating beside him in his telekinetic grasp.
*****
Princess Celestia waited for the door to close behind him before she bent over and grabbed one of the biscuits for herself, popping it into her mouth and chewing loudly. Perfectly flakey, with a sweet raspberry jam at the center. It was missing something, though. With a thought, a bottle of buffalo sauce appeared and began to pour itself on the pastries.
Thistleroot hadn’t bothered asking where the job was, which was fortunate. It saved her a bit of dodging, and it would have been much easier for him to turn it down now than for him to change his mind later. Not that either was likely. Thistleroot apparently adored his princesses.
Celestia popped another buffalo raspberry pastry into her mouth just as another Celestia appeared in the room with a flash of golden light.
The second Celestia looked slightly less put together than the first. Her mane, not quite back to the ethereal form it had been in the year before, was ever so slightly mussed. Her horn glowed as she began filling the teapot and setting it to boil.
“They just keep talking,” she muttered quietly under her breath.
“You don’t have to worry about that,” the first Celestia said. “I already took care of your meeting.”
The second Celestia rounded on her as she began speaking, horn flaring dangerously. The first Celestia moved across the room, in no great hurry, licked a hoof and pressed it against the second Celestia’s horn. The golden glow went out with a hiss.
The second Celestia gave her a level look. “What are you doing in here, Discord?”
“Now, now,” the first Celestia said, switching back to Discord’s voice. “I’m helping. That’s what friends do, isn’t it? I saw you were busy with your noble ponies and their problems, so I met with Thistleroot for you.”
Celestia’s skeptical look didn’t waver.
“Oh, don’t be like that. I promise, I played the part to a T. Some tea and biscuits, his favorite is jasmine, by the way, a little sense of humor, he had no idea.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.” Celestia pondered it for another moment and sighed. “And?”
“He accepted, of course. Who wouldn’t, in his position? It’s the job opportunity of a lifetime.”
“And you explained the nature of the job? That he would be working with another pony? Lodging, train tickets?” Discord nodded.
“And you explained where the job was located? And that there were other opportunities, if he didn’t want—”
“Well, it has been an absolute pleasure,” Discord said, “but I should let you get back to your work.” His horn glowed golden and took on the shape of a hand, which snapped its fingers and he vanished in a puff of smoke.
“Discord!” Celestia called out. “Wait, Discord!” A moment passed and the plate of buffalo raspberry pastries vanished as well. She sighed. “I think I liked him better as an enemy."
*****
Thistleroot walked down the mountain path that cut through the more residential areas of Camp Canterlot. The boxy, apartment-like temporary residences that had been erected didn’t do much for the view, but they were comfortable enough, and a few had already been removed as the richer Canterlot neighborhoods had been completed, or their residents moved on.
Apple Bloom and Spike had unfortunately been in the latter group. Apple Bloom had returned to her home in Ponyville to help her older brother with the farm so that her sister could continue organizing the many gardens around Canterlot, while Spike was needed by Princess Twilight in Ponyville. He was her number one assistant, after all. Of course they still made a point to get together at least twice a month.
Sweetie Belle was gone too, having recently booked a show in Baltimare. That still left two ponies to drag along. Well, two friends.
Thistleroot approached one of the temporary housing units close to his own and gave the door three quick taps with his hoof. He heard shuffling on the other side, and then a sleepy voice call out in annoyance, “Just a second.”
The door swung open to reveal a dark pegasus rubbing at her eyes.
“It’s almost noon,” Thistleroot commented dryly.
The pegasus rolled her eyes and turned away, leaving the door open for him. She was shorter than average, with a charcoal grey coat and deep blue-green mane and tail, both also shorter than average. Her eyes were a vibrant blue and on her flank was a cutie mark of green fire in the shape of a heart.
“Morning, Mimic,” Thistleroot said brightly, following her inside. The inside wasn’t much prettier than the outside. A simple sitting room kitchen combo. The back wall had three doors, one to each of the small bedrooms and one to the shared bathroom. The front wall had a single window with a vibrant green ficus sitting beneath it.
“Morning,” she answered.
“Thistleroot, go away,” another voice called from the bedroom on the left. “We’re sleeping.”
“Morning Scootaloo!” he called back. She grumbled an unintelligible response. “Okay, sorry for barging in here,” he said. “I know it’s supposed to be your day off.” He heard another unintelligible response, followed by a sigh of resignation and shifting. The door opened and Scootaloo stepped into the sitting room, which was already becoming cramped. Her mane was mussed and she was in the process of pulling a gold chain over her head. At the end of the chain dangled half a crystal heart in shades of pink.
“I have a good reason though, I promise,” Thistleroot said. “How would you two feel about taking a vacation?”
Scootaloo perked up at his words, while Mimic looked at him in confusion? “What’s that?”
“Spoken like a true changeling,” Thistleroot said. She stuck her tongue out at him in response. “A vacation is what we ponies do when we don’t want to work. We go someplace else to be lazy and have fun.”
Mimic opened her mouth to respond, then paused, mulling the idea over. “How is that any different than our trips to Ponyville?”
“Duration,” Thistleroot explained. “Our trips to Ponyville are usually just one or two days. Vacations take weeks.”
Mimic’s head drew back, as though the thought of not working for weeks was inconceivable. Which, Thistleroot thought, it probably was to someone who’d grown up in the changeling hives.
“Is this about what Celestia was going to talk to you about?” Scootaloo asked.
“Yes. Thanks, by the way, for the heads up,” Thistleroot said. “Hey, Thistleroot, the god-monarch of all ponykind is going to invite you to tea, you should brush up on your etiquette.”
Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “She mentioned it in passing. Now stop whining and start explaining.”
“Fine. Anyway, she had a job offer for me. Apparently there’s a newly discovered species that falls into the Lignum Viventem family, and she needs somepony to go study it. As one of the only botomancy experts left in Canterlot, and as her own right hoof, Lord Thistleroot, of—” Mimic prodded him in the ribs. “Ow! Okay, okay. So, she wants me and another pony to study these new animal plant hybrids, and she gave me extra tickets in case you two want to tag along.”
“Was that so hard?” Mimic asked.
“I could use a vacation,” Scootaloo said. “I’m in.” Mimic nodded in agreement. “Where are we heading?”
“We are going to sunny...” Thistleroot trailed off. “Uh, I actually didn’t ask.” Scootaloo and Mimic rolled their eyes. “I was too excited,” Thistleroot said. “I’ve got the information here.” He levitated the papers Princess Celestia had given him out of his bag and started flipping through them. “Here. We’re going to... oh.”
“What?” Scootaloo asked.
Thistleroot let out a nervous chuckle. “You know, life is more about the journey than the destination. Wouldn’t you rather keep it a surprise?”
“No,” Scootaloo and Mimic said together.
Thistleroot sighed. “Well, it’s sort of West-ish.”
“Okay?” Mimic said.
“Really West.”
“Thistleroot!” Scootaloo said, nearly growling in impatience.
“How do you two feel about a trip to Greenhaven Grotto?”
The sun slid closer to the horizon as the train made its way West. Thistleroot watched the plains slide past the window. The first trees of the forest were beginning to dot the landscape, and it wouldn’t be long before they reached the end of the line. After a night’s rest, they would be setting out on hoof. From there, the trip to Greenhaven Grotto would take most of the day.
“Still, you’d think she would have mentioned it,” Mimic said. She sat beside Thistleroot, her bearing set, as though she were standing at attention. It was a posture she took when feeling nervous, as he'd learned over months of O&O games.
Scootaloo shrugged from across the aisle, where she lounged with an older copy of one of the Daring Do books. “She’s a princess. I’m sure she has a lot to keep track of."
"Yes, but don't you think it's a little suspicious? We told her about what happened there, and she doesn't think to mention that she's sending us back?"
"Well, yeah," Scootaloo said, tilting the book away and looking up at Mimic. "But it’s not like she could have tricked us or anything. The name of the town was on the notes she gave him. What did she have to gain?”
“I guess,” Mimic said.
“Just try to relax,” Scootaloo said. “It's not a cruise ship, but we have a few weeks to just relax. We probably won’t even see anypony we met before.”
“Some of us won’t have much of a choice,” Thistleroot said, a little more sullen than usual.
“It’s just one meeting, right?” Scootaloo asked. “You talk to them, find out about this new plant animal, and then go see it for yourself.”
Thistleroot swallowed nervously.
“That’s all in the past,” Scootaloo said. “We did the right thing.” She was right. Thistleroot knew it was the truth, but he still couldn’t shake the doubt. He could see Midlight in his mind, the pegasus researcher, desperate to save his daughter from her mysterious affliction, crumpling in pain as Mimic broke his wing with a buck. He could see Star Charmer, his daughter, clear the way for them to escape with the last bit of magic that could have healed her.
He hadn’t been able to face them again. He’d stayed home when he heard that Midlight had come to Canterlot to seek an audience with the princess. He’d been hiding when she explained to him that the Elements of Harmony had been shattered.
He’d failed when asked to use them again.
A more objective pony might have said “they failed”, but Thistleroot wasn’t feeling particularly objective at the moment. After things had settled down, they’d returned to the now empty Night’s End castle, to show Princess Celestia and Princess Twilight that they could use the elements, and nothing had happened. Nopony knew if their use of the elements had been a one time thing, a final surge of power released by the elements’ destruction, or if they could only be used in dire situations.
He was pulled from his contemplation by the sound of the train whistle and the lurch of breaks.
“Well,” he said. “Let’s grab something to eat. At the very least we don’t have to worry about it just yet, right?”
“Right,” Scootaloo said. Mimic nodded.
He could enjoy this night, at least. He could grab dinner with his friends. There was absolutely no reason to freak out.
*****
“Okay, now I’m freaking out,” Thistleroot said as they passed the last of the trees and a sign that read: Now Entering Greenhaven Grotto. “Let’s go home.”
“Okay,” Scootaloo said. She and Mimic turned around.
“Wait, wait!” Thistleroot called. “No, we can’t leave. I told the princess that I was going to take this job. I’m not going to let her down.” Thistleroot took another step into town and paused. “On second thought, there’s—” Scootaloo and Mimic walked up to either side of him. With a wordless glance between the two of them, they each hooked one of their front legs under his and dragged him onward.
“Okay, you’re right,” Thistleroot said. “We can do this. No problem. Yeah. Or maybe we should... no, you’re right.” He trailed off, and they traveled in silence down the main street. Houses stood on either side of the street, widely and unevenly spaced out. As they drew nearer to the center of town, the houses became closer together, intermingled with the occasional business. A mom and pop store here, a family dentistry there.
After half a mile of walking, they reached the town center, a familiar circular clearing. Several roads branched out from this central space, and between them were buildings, all of them facing inward. Thistleroot could see the City Hall and public library to their right, and a bakery to their left.
Directly across from them was a gray stone building with a simple sign that read “SEA Research Center”.
“Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath. “We’re supposed to meet with somepony named,” he levitated a notebook out of his saddlebag and flipped through it. “Mayor Motts. Huh, I think I’ve heard that name before.”
“Well, assuming he’s actually the mayor and that’s not just a weird name, we should try city hall,” Scootaloo said.
“Alright, sounds good,” Thistleroot said. “Also, one other thing.”
“Yes?” Mimic asked.
“Can you two let go?”
Scootaloo and Mimic gave each other another wordless smile and dropped Thistleroot’s front legs. To his own surprise, he managed to catch himself before hitting the ground and straightened. “Alright, to City Hall!”
Greenhaven Grotto City Hall was a plain one story building of aged wood. Thistleroot gave the door a tug and it swung open with a small squeak. Inside was a plain beige office. Plastic chairs lined one wall, and opposite the entrance was a desk and another door. A ceiling fan spun lazily above them.
An elderly earth pony mare looked up from the desk as they entered. She adjusted a pair of thick, horn-rimmed glasses with one hoof while the other closed a well-read paperback and slid it off the desk and out of view. “Hello?”
Thistleroot smiled, waiting for somepony to take the lead before a prod from Scootaloo reminded him that he was the one here on business. “Yes, hello. Uh, I’m here to speak with Mayor Motts.”
The mare sniffed and stood. She wore a glossy maroon vest that clashed with her dark gray coat, and when she moved a number of beaded necklaces clattered against each other. “Concerning?”
“I was sent here by Princess Celestia concerning some field work she wanted done.”
The mare nodded. “Just a moment.” She left through the door behind her.
Thistleroot shifted his weight and looked around the room again. Waiting room chic, he thought. They even had the same doodle-design carpet as his dentist back home. Why did every waiting room have that carpet?
The door opened and the secretary reentered. “Go ahead. It’s the last door to the right.”
“Thanks,” Thistleroot said, starting forward. The secretary made a noncommittal noise before grabbing her book and looking for the right page. “What’cha reading?”
“You wouldn’t like it,” she answered without looking up.
“Uh, right,” Thistleroot said, giving his friends a shrug.
“We’ll wait out here,” Mimic said.
“Okay. Hopefully it’ll just be a second,” Thistleroot said as he made for the open door.
*****
“He’s about five seconds from panicking and running for real,” Mimic said after a few moments.
“What tipped you off?” Scootaloo asked. “I really don’t blame him. I’m really not looking forward to seeing anypony from SEA.” She hopped onto one of the waiting room chairs. “Some vacation, huh?”
Mimic shrugged. “It’s the best one I’ve ever been on, so far. We could be working right now.”
“I guess.” Scootaloo glanced at the secretary. Whatever she was reading seemed to hold the entirety of her attention. She hadn’t glanced up at anything they’d said. “You know, we haven’t talked about the elephant in the room.”
Mimic arched an eyebrow and looked back over the room again.
“We haven’t talked about the big, obvious thing,” Scootaloo said. “Libiris.”
“What about it?”
“Well, we’re here. Don’t you think we should go back, now that we have some time?”
Mimic shook her head. “Of course not. The last time we were there we were running for our lives while something “woke up”. Something a centuries old creature was supposed to be watching.” Mimic paused, blinking slowly. “A centuries old creature made out of wood...”
“Yeah,” Scootaloo said. “Like I said. There’s an elephant in the room, and nopony’s talking about it.”
“Actually, I think he was some kind of deer.”
*****
“Come in!” a creaking voice wheezed after Thistleroot knocked on the door. He opened it and entered a shabby little office. Across from him was another desk, this one made of a fine polished oak and covered in knick-knacks. One corner held a drinking bird dipping back and forth over a glass of water like a pendulum. On the other corner of the desk was a small stone bust of a handsome earth pony stallion. Two bookshelves behind the desk likewise decorated. An entire shelf was dedicated to snowglobes, and Thistleroot would have guessed the pair of snuff boxes on the shelf below them were older than his parents.
At the desk sat a wizened earth pony stallion, bearing a very faint resemblance to the stone bust. He had a brown coat and dark gray mane. Brown eyes squinted at Thistleroot from behind wide circular lenses. “Yes, hello?”
“Hi, Mr. Mayor. My name is Thistleroot. I’m here to do research for the princess. I was told to come talk to you.”
“Wazzat? Didn’t I already talk to you about that?”
“Um, no?”
“Hmm, I coulda sworn I did. Except you were an earth pony earlier today.”
Thistleroot arched an eyebrow, and then smiled. “Oh, I see. I’m not the only pony coming. I guess my partner for this beat me here.”
“Partner, huh? Hmm, I think the letters mentioned something like that.” He opened a drawer in his desk and began rifling through it. After a few moments he pulled out a manilla envelope. “Right, right. Two of them. Well, okay, let's go get you settled then. Need to get out and stretch my legs now and then.” The mayor hopped out of his chair, disappearing completely behind the desk for a moment. He circled it to stand before Thistleroot, his forehead barely coming to Thistleroot’s chin.
He handed Thistleroot the envelope. “All the paperwork was done before. You and your partners will be sharing a house that had been up for rent for a while, so it might need a little fixing up. Rent was paid in advance. Spare keys and your copy of the paperwork are in there.” The mayor held out a hoof and Thistleroot shook it. “Welcome to Greenhaven Grotto.”
“And that was when polka was still in style, mind you,” Mayor Motts said as they walked. “Now those were some swinging times. So where was I? Oh, right, so Muriel and I, we were going steady at that point and... oh, here we are.”
“Oh, thank Celestia,” Scootaloo whispered.
“This is where you will be staying,” Mayor Motts told them, gesturing.
To Thistleroot’s surprise, the place didn’t look half bad. It was a blue ranch-style house with white trim. Sure, it probably could have used a fresh coat of paint, and a few of the balusters on the railing around the porch were missing, but hey, they had a porch. He took an experimental step onto the bottom of the short staircase. It squeaked as he put his weight down, but otherwise held firm.
“Well, you kids make yourselves at home,” Mayor Motts said. “If you need anything else, just come on by.”
“Will do. Thanks,” Thistleroot said. The mayor nodded and turned to start back down the road toward the town center.
“So, guess we should go in,” Scootaloo said, jumping over the rail to get around Thistleroot, who was pushing against the bottom step, making it squeak repeatedly. “You have the keys?”
“Yeah, right here.” Thistleroot opened the envelope that Mayor Motts had given him and levitated one of the keys out. Scootaloo caught it in her mouth, unlocked the door, and the three of them made their way inside.
“A bit dusty,” Thistleroot said, wiping a hoof along the inside wall. There wasn’t much to say about the interior. Hardwood floors, a faded yellow paint job, and an ancient pink couch that the previous tenants had probably just abandoned. Half a wall seperated the living area and the kitchen at the back of the house.
“You hear that?” Scootaloo asked. The paused, and Thistleroot could just make out voices coming from down a hall on the left.
“Well, let’s go meet this partner then,” Thistleroot said, making his way in that direction. The hall was a short one, with a single door on each side and a third leading to a bathroom at the end. The voices were coming from the room on the right.
“I’m feeling a bit peckish. Do we have time for an early dinner?” A brown earth pony was in the process of unpacking a suitcase onto a bed. Beside him, a white unicorn flipped through several pages on a clipboard. A quill and inkpot floated beside him, enveloped in a pink light.
“It might be a bit tricky,” the unicorn said. “We need to talk to the researchers and then sometime today we should be meeting the botomancy expert.”
The earth pony closed the suitcase and began straightening the pile of clothes. His coat was dark, the same shade as freshly turned earth. His mane and tail were similar, though several shades darker. His cutie mark was that of a black feline paw print.
The unicorn’s mane and tail were an ugly shade of pink, and Thistleroot was reminded of the carbon copy paper that came with forms, an impression solidified by the unicorns clipboard cutie mark. He wore a grey pinstripe vest, and a looped gold chain hung from the breast pocket.
“Right, the dead weight,” the earth pony said. “I almost forgot about him.”
“Right,” Thistleroot said under his breath. “Let’s come back later.”
“Dead weight?” Mimic asked loudly, pushing past Thistleroot.
“Just what the hay is that supposed to mean?” Scootaloo asked, right behind her.
“Or let’s do this now,” Thistleroot said.
The earth pony looked up at them as they entered. The unicorn marked something on his clipboard. “Right, so if we bump the meeting with the botomancy expert to right now, that clears up our five o’ clock for dinner.”
“Wonderful.”
“Just who do you think you’re calling dead weight?” Scootaloo asked.
The earth pony held a hoof up in a placating gesture. “Please, please. I’m sorry. That wasn’t meant to be a personal attack, and I wouldn’t have said it if I’d known anypony else was here.”
“So you’re not sorry you said it,” Mimic said. “You’re just sorry we heard it?”
The earth pony shrugged. “It was a blunt way of phrasing things, I admit. Certainly not the way I prefer to meet a new colleague.” He extended a hoof toward Scootaloo. “Let’s try again. My name is Rare Breed. I’m the zoologist selected for this job by doctor Mane Goodall. And you are?”
Scootaloo gave the outstretched hoof a dubious look before shaking it. “I’m Scootaloo, but I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”
“Oh?” Rare Breed said, turning toward Mimic, who shook her head.
“Out here,” Thistleroot said from the hall.
“Will you hurry up and get in here?” Mimic asked.
“Are you crazy? There’s angry mares in there. I’m safer where I am.”
“Oh, for crying out loud,” Scootaloo said before grabbing Thistleroot and dragging him into the room. He stumbled and came to a stop in front of Rare Breed.
“Uh, hiya? I’m Thistleroot.”
Rare Breed looked him over and offered his hoof again. Thistleroot shook it.
“But really, what did you mean by dead weight?” Scootaloo asked.
“Just that his presence in this venture was unnecessary,” Rare Breed answered. “No offense.”
“How is that not offensive?” Mimic asked.
“Because it’s not an insult, or a challenge to his credentials. I have no doubt that you are perfectly capable in your selected field, Mr. Thistleroot, but all of the creatures that fall under the Lignum Viventem classification are first and foremost animals. A botanist or even botomancist might be of some use as far as their physical makeup, but things such as behaviors and habits, diet, mental capacities, all of these things fall under the study of zoology.”
Rare Breed shrugged again. “Of course you’re welcome to do what you want, but the study of these animals is sure to be a bit more complicated than you're used to. I just don’t see how you’ll be able to contribute.”
“Well,” Thistleroot started.
“You will once he gets started,” Scootaloo said. “Thistleroot here was hoof picked by Princess Celestia herself.”
Rare Breed arched an eyebrow at that. “Really?”
“It’s not really that—”
“Yes,” Mimic said. “He knows more about plants than anyone.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Thistleroot said.
“And he—” Scootaloo started.
“You never introduced us to your friend,” Thistleroot said, talking over her. “This is Mimic, by the way.”
“My name is Triplicate,” the unicorn said. “And that makes for an excellently timed segue. Rare, we need to meet with the SEA Researcher who first discovered Lignum Viventum-006-1 in twelve minutes. From here the center is a nine and a half minute walk.”
“Well, okay. Will you be coming too, Thistleroot?”
Thistleroot’s stomach squirmed. “Uheh, um, I guess I should. You girls want to stay here?”
“No,” Mimic said. “We’ll go with you.”
“You sure?” Thistleroot asked. She nodded.
“Eleven and a half minutes,” Triplicate said, checking a pocket watch.
“Right, everypony, follow me then,” Rare Breed said as he strode out of the room.
*****
“Oh, come on. Look at how much more put together they look,” Thistleroot said.
“I don’t care,” Scootaloo said. “I’m not carrying around a clipboard.”
“It doesn’t have to have anything on it. Think about how official you’ll feel. No one questions a pony with a clipboard.”
“No.”
Thistleroot pouted, then looked to his other side.
“No,” Mimic said.
Thistleroot sighed. “What kind of researcher would I be if I have to carry my own clipboard?”
“Thistleroot, for once, just stop talking,” Mimic said.
“Sorry, nervous habit.” Thistleroot swallowed against the lump forming in his throat as the SEA Research Center came into view. “Oh man. What do you think the chances are that they’ll just attack on sight?”
“They’re not going to attack us,” Scootaloo said.
“I agree,” Mimic said. “It would make more sense to come for us in our sleep, once they know we’re here.”
Scootaloo sighed.
“Though technically they haven’t seen me looking like this,” Mimic added. “They might not do anything to me.”
“It would be appreciated if you three could walk faster,” Triplicate called back toward them. “My schedule only allows for a ten and a half minute walk.”
“Sorry,” Scootaloo called out, rolling her eyes.
The research center hadn’t changed in the past year. A sterile white waiting room greeted them just inside the doors. Rare Breed strode forward toward the vacant reception desk and rang the bell. Several seconds passed. Triplicate pulled his watch from his vest pocket and clicked his tongue impatiently.
A light brown earth pony with a gray mane entered through a door behind the counter. “Afternoon.” He faltered as his gaze fell on Thistleroot and Scootaloo.
“Good afternoon,” Rare Breed said, drawing the earth pony’s attention. “I have a meeting with a pony named Midlight.”
The earth pony grunted, gaze flickering back to Thistleroot and Scootaloo, though there was no anger in his expression, just vague recognition. Thistleroot was sure he’d place them soon enough.
“I’ll go get him,” the pony finally said before turning back to the door.
Thistleroot’s stomach twisted in panic as the next few minutes passed. He shifted from one side to the other. Mimic stood unmoving by the door. Scootaloo sat beside her, trying to look unfazed, but her ears twitched in agitation every so often.
Finally, hoofsteps came from the back door. A moment later, a pegasus entered. His coat was the dark blue of the night sky, accented by a well kept silver mane. As he entered, Thistleroot could just make out a bit of silver on his flank, and knew if the pony turned he’d see a cutie mark in the shape of a crescent moon.
Midlight’s gaze passed over each pony before focusing on Rare Breed.
Thistleroot’s heart skipped a beat in the moment his gaze met Midlight’s, and he spent the next few seconds as Rare Breed introducing himself silently hyperventilating. There hadn’t been so much as a shred of recognition or surprise in Midlight’s expression, but it was only a matter of time before somepony realized who he was. Why had he come here? What was he thinking? What was the princess thinking? The moment these ponies realized who he, Scootaloo, and Mimic were, they would be tying them to a stake and—
“A pleasure to meet you, Rare Breed, Triplicate,” Midlight said. “And Thistleroot. The princess notified us that you would be arriving as well, though I wasn’t aware Scootaloo and Mimic would be joining you.”
Or that.
“Um, yes. Hi again.”
“All of the details of Star Charmer’s encounter are included in the write-ups we sent the university,” Midlight said, attention shifting back to Rare Breed.
“Of course,” Rare Breed answered. “This meeting was more to make introductions than to gather more information.”
Midlight nodded. “The SEA facilities are at your disposal should you need them.” Without another word, he turned and exited, leaving Rare Breed blinking in surprise.
“Huh. Abrupt fellow, isn’t he?”
Thistleroot fell back to his haunches and took a long, steadying breath. Rare Breed and Triplicate turned toward him. Rare Breed arched an eyebrow. “You okay?”
“He’s fine,” Scootaloo said. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Thistleroot said. “That was so much worse than I thought it was going to be. Did you see that indifferent, uncaring stare?”
Scootaloo rolled her eyes and turned toward Mimic. “Dinner?”
“Sure.” Mimic looked uncertainly at Thistleroot as he dropped forward and covered his head with his hooves. “Uh, are we just going to leave him like that, or...”
Scootaloo sighed before biting down on Thistleroot’s tail and dragging him out the door.
“So, I’ve finally gotten a chance to read through all this,” Thistleroot said, levitating the notes he’d been given in front of his face.
Scootaloo and Mimic had just finished unpacking. Neither had felt the need to bring more than a single bag, so it hadn’t taken long. The two had agreed to share one of the rooms on the right, across from Thistleroot’s. Rare Breed and Triplicate would be taking the two rooms on the left.
“I’m sure you’ve both considered the Librarian,” Thistleroot continued. “And by the looks of it, that’s who we’re dealing with. The description matches. A tall, stag-like creature with antlers, made of wood like a timberwolf. So, I guess somepony, I think Midlight mentioned Star Charmer, is poking around Libiris sometime after we leave and comes across him.”
Thistleroot frowned. “There are some things that don’t match up, though. Apparently Star Charmer tried to talk to him, but he didn’t answer. At least not verbally. He gestured and then vanished back into the woods. She wasn’t sure what he was trying to say.”
“That is weird,” Scootaloo admitted, frowning. “He didn’t have any problem talking before.”
“We still don’t know what happened to him after we left,” Mimic said. “We don’t know what it was that was waking up. Maybe he’s hurt or something.”
“It’s possible,” Thistleroot said, flipping through the notes again. “It’s also possible that the seal around Libiris did more than just keep the door closed. He was down there for a long time. Maybe he’s not doing so well now it’s opened back up.”
Scootaloo gulped. She hadn’t even considered that. If something happened, would that mean it was their fault for unsealing the place? “We should probably go find him. Sooner rather than later.”
“Yeah,” Thistleroot said. “First thing in the morning?” Scootaloo and Mimic nodded. “Alright. I’ll see you two in the morning, then.” He waved and left, closing the door behind him.
“G’night, Thistleroot,” Scootaloo said before hopping into her bed. “So, what do you think?”
“I don’t know,” Mimic said, straightening the blankets on her own bed. She pulled a small, stuffed animal, an orange fox, from her bag and set it beside the pillow. Scootaloo rolled her eyes, but didn’t bother asking. Mimic had refused to explain where the fox had come from several months before, probably because she knew the curiosity had been driving Scootaloo insane.
“There’s not much guessing will accomplish. We’ll learn more tomorrow.”
“I guess,” Scootaloo said, pulling the covers to her chin. “I hate waiting.”
“I know,” Mimic said. “So, after that’s all done, what else do you think we should do? For fun?”
“Right,” Scootaloo said, shifting on her side to look across the room at Mimic. “I almost forgot this is your first vacation. Hmm, I don’t think there’s any beaches around. We could probably find a lake nearby. Oh, when I was just a filly, Rainbow Dash and the girls took us camping to these waterfalls once.” And with that, Scootaloo launched into the story, and then another, brainstorming ideas with Mimic until they finally fell asleep.
*****
A sphinx sat unmoving, looking out over a small desert village. She was a light tan color, the same as the stone behind her, and in the dim light of the setting sun, she doubted any of the ponies below would have been able to see her.
The village had become one of her favorite places to sit and think. The ponies below were honest and hard working. Life there was simple. Each day peaceful. Orderly. Sadly, she was having trouble enjoying it at the moment, as her companion was anything but peaceful and orderly.
“You know, we haven’t really just hung out like this in eons,” Discord was saying, his mouth full of half chewed sandwich. “We really should do it more.”
“No, we should not.”
Discord shrugged and took another bite. “The sunsets are quite lovely up here. I can see why you like this place.”
The sphinx sighed. “What must I do to be rid of you?”
“Hmm,” Discord hummed, sounding slightly displeased. “Always right to business with you. Very well. I’m here to talk about my proposal. Have you considered it at all?”
“I have,” the sphinx answered. “It’s ridiculous, though that is to be expected, as it came from you.” She sighed. “What purpose could you possibly have for limiting our actions in such a way?” She looked to him for the first time, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What angle are you playing? What advantage could you possibly gain through a mortal pawn that you don’t already have?”
Discord chuckled. “You’re always so refreshingly simple, Law. It’s not about what I gain, it’s about what I lose.”
The sphinx, Law, arched an eyebrow at that.
“I won last time, don’t you remember?” Discord said. “Surely you remember that hole I shoved you into.”
Law bared her teeth. “I have not forgotten.”
“How long did it take to break yourself free, once I was gone? Well, that hardly matters, it’s in the past, right?” Discord gave her his best winning smile. She fought back the urge to lunge for his throat. He was right after all. He’d already beaten her once.
“I want it to be a challenge this time,” Discord said. “I want to level the playing field and see who comes out on top. I’m not the only one.” Discord held one arm out and with a flip of the wrist a long piece of paper unrolled in his grip.
Law looked at it for a moment, eyes widening. “A contract? You? Are you trying to unmake yourself?”
“Oh, don’t be silly,” Discord said. “I didn’t write it. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
Law looked back down at the contract, reading more carefully. The language was familiar, as was the subtle sense of magic emanating from the page. “I see. This is Trader’s work. He’s working with you then?”
“He’s working for himself,” Discord answered. “It just so happened that our interests aligned for a brief moment.”
Law nodded and continued reading. After a few more moments, a small frown tugged at the corner of her mouth.
“Of course, you’re free to refuse,” Discord said.
No, she wasn’t, she thought. Of course not. Part of the agreement was to use their magic to prevent any of them from entering or interfering, even those that hadn’t signed. She could try to do things her own way, but rather than going up against just one of her equals, she’d be going against all of them.
On the other paw, none of the others could interfere either. She couldn’t bring herself to trust Discord, but if he had willingly bound himself to one of Trader’s deals, there was only so much he could do.
“It will be impossible for any eternal spirit to affect a mortal creature with magic while in area specified. Not just those chosen as our,” she paused, checking again for the wording used by the contract, “mortal champions?”
Discord nodded. “Unless you have permission from the creature. Trader made sure to put that loophole in. That’s just to keep things honest. No holding somepony’s friends hostage, right?”
“And these two names beside those of the signers. These are the names of their chosen mortals?”
Discord nodded again. “Yours will be added, once you choose one. If you sign, of course.”
Law looked at the list of signatures. Six others had signed, and two had already chosen mortal pawns. “I would prefer to keep things simple, but I can see that won’t be an option so long as you’re involved. Very well, if you insist on resting the fate of the world on a game, I have no choice.” She reached toward the page and drew a claw against it. At the bottom of the page, beneath the short list of names, her own appeared.
Discord snapped his talons and the contract vanished, presumably back to Trader for safe keeping. “You are free to tell your chosen champion as little or as much as you want, depending on how much you trust them, with one exception. You can't tell them the names of other champions.”
Of course, Law thought. The others would tell their champions the bare minimum, for fear of being betrayed. They would choose champions as lawless and conniving as they were. It was their nature.
“Well, I should be going,” Discord said.
“Good. Begone then.”
“Oh, always such a joker,” Discord said with a chuckle. He snapped again and was gone.
Law closed her eyes, thankful for the silence that followed. There was more to his game. There always was with Discord, even if she couldn’t see it just yet. Something about this mortal champion, maybe? Some edge that others wouldn’t have.
She stood, wings spreading, and leapt into the air. The answer was simple, as any good answer would be. She would learn, first. She would understand the situation and proceed. She would move carefully, steadily, without error, for that was who she was, and, this time, it would be her above all others.
But first, she would learn more about this mortal pony Discord had chosen as his champion in the coming war. She would learn more about this Scootaloo.
“They spotted this thing a half-mile out of town,” Scootaloo said as she poked through Rare Breed’s oversized hiking saddle bags. “Water, I get. But Rope? Bug nets? A machete? Aren’t you over doing it?” She lifted the large, flat blade to show the rest of the room.
Rare Breed rolled his eyes and took it from her, gently placing it back in the pack. “A half mile isn’t anything to a city pony like you, maybe, but out there in the wild, it’s a totally different story.”
“There’s a road,” Mimic said flatly.
“And I’m sure these new creatures will be polite enough to wait alongside it for us, but I’ll take the hiking gear just in case,” Rare Breed said, giving her head a pat as though she were a school filly. She brushed his hoof away with a glower.
Rare Breed had dressed the part, wearing a tan shirt and hat that could have come from a Daring Do book. “Well, let’s be off. Daylight’s burning. Triplicate?”
“I’ve scheduled four hours for tracking in a typical grid based search pattern. After that we can break for lunch,” the unicorn said in his dry monotone. He was dressed similarly to Rare Breed, but one of his saddlebags instead carried two large water bottles. Lines marked the bottles in regular intervals, with times written next to each mark in half hour intervals.
“Wonderful.” With that, the two left the house.
“Well, I for one am feeling underdressed,” Thistleroot said once they were gone.
“They’re trying too hard. Imagine his face when he realizes we already know the Librarian,” Scootaloo said. “And I am not a city pony.”
“I mean, you did live in a city,” Thistleroot said.
Scootaloo rolled her eyes and bumped him as she walked past and out the door. The morning air was still cool, and helped in clearing the remaining dregs of sleep from her head as they walked. Mimic and Thistleroot fell into step beside her and they followed Rare Breed and Triplicate toward the forest.
“Now, I know none of you are very experienced in the study of rare fauna,” Rare Breed said from ahead of them as they passed into the shade of the trees. “You can leave tracking to me, once we find some sign of this creature, but there are a few things you should know for when we find it.”
“Like what?” Thistleroot asked as Scootaloo groaned. She could hear a similar sound of displeasure from Mimic.
“Well, first of all, we don’t want to scare it. When I tell you that we’re getting near, which I’ll know from how fresh the tracks are, of course, I’ll tell you, and we will have to proceed slowly, and quietly. Any sudden movements or loud noises can scare an animal and force it to flee.
“Second, don’t approach it. We want it to come to us, not the other way around.”
“Makes sense,” Thistleroot said.
“Does anything seem different to you two?” Mimic asked under her breath.
Scootaloo fell silent, looking around, listening. The forest looked just like any other, if maybe a bit thicker than any she’d been camping in before. The leaves were a vibrant green, the moss and underbrush thick and lush and threatening to overtake the underused road. She could hear the singing of birds and chirping and buzzing of insects.
“No,” she answered. “Everything seems normal.”
“I said different, not strange,” Mimic said. “This place was a lot creepier before. It used to be quiet, like there weren’t any animals around. Until that last time when everything was screaming at us. Now it’s normal.”
“Huh, now that you mention it,” Thistleroot said. “I guess it—”
“Shh!” Rare Breed cut him off, stopping and looking back at the three with a raised hoof.
The three came to a halt. Scootaloo tensed, listening.
“Did you find tracks?” Thistleroot asked. “Is it clo...” He trailed off, blinking. Scootaloo followed his gaze past Rare Breed and into the trees beyond. A large, dark shape was standing thirty feet away, its vibrant, emerald eyes fixed on Rare Breed and Triplicate. Scootaloo blinked in surprise.
“That is not the Librarian,” Mimic said.
The wooden stag stood unmoving, its polished horns reflecting what little light managed to filter down between the trees. It was tall and sturdy, with no sign of the frailty that had hampered the Librarian. It was definitely the same species, but younger. Stronger.
Rare Breed slowly stretched a hoof out, trying to appear non-threatening.
“Fru yna oui?” the wooden stag said in a deep, commanding voice. Rare Breed jumped in surprise and blinked.
“Draca fuutc yna cylnat du dra caagan. Mayja.” The stag turned and began moving away through the forest.
Thistleroot moved forward, drawing even with Rare Breed and called out to it, “Uh, kna dek?”
“What are you doing?” Rare Breed asked in a panicked whisper. “I said no loud noises.”
The stag paused, looking back to him, head tilted in curiosity.
“What does that mean?” Scootaloo asked.
“No idea, but the librarian said it when we met him.”
“Knaadehkc,” the stag said.
“Okay, harder k at the end,” Thistleroot mumbled to himself. “Uh, Librarian?”
The stag studied him for a second longer. “Librarian. Lusa.” It turned again and began walking into the forest. It stopped after a few feet, looking back at them.
“I think it wants us to follow him,” Mimic said.
“Hold on a moment,” Rare Breed said. “What’s going on here?”
“Oh, we’ve met one of these things before,” Scootaloo said, fighting back a grin.
A moment passed in silence.
“You didn’t think to mention that?” Rare Breed asked, voice a mix of disbelief and outrage.
“We didn’t know if it was important,” Scootaloo said, keeping her voice serious. “You’re the expert, after all.”
“Come on,” Mimic said, moving off the road and jumping over a fallen branch, with Thistleroot right on her heels..
Scootaloo followed. To their credit, Rare Breed and Triplicate were only seconds behind her. The thick growth of the forest slowed her immediately, and Scootaloo wondered if she should just fly above the trees. She’d be able to see the clearing and Libiris easily enough from the sky.
Then again, there was a chance the stag wasn’t leading them to Libiris, and she’d be further from her friends if danger arose. She stayed on the ground,
Behind her, she heard a whoosh followed by a sharp impact. She turned to see Rare Breed straighten, the machete held in his mouth. A thick vine that had blocked his path had been neatly severed.
“Shee,” he said around the handle of the machete. “Ah told you it whould come an handy.” He moved forward, whipping his head back and forth, carving a path through the thick plant life for himself and Triplicate.
A powerful wooden hoof came down on the blade as Rare Breed drew it back for another swing, pinning it to the ground. All three of them jumped in surprise and looked up at the stag, who had somehow managed to approach without a sound. Thistleroot and Mimic were watching from a few dozen feet ahead.
“Hu suna,” the stag said, glaring down at Rare Breed.
He smiled back in response, and let go of the machete. “Sorry about that.”
The stag stood for a second longer, and then turned and continued through the forest. Rare Breed let out a nervous chuckle, picked up the machete, and slid it back into his pack. “Right. We do this the old fashioned way, I guess.”
“I suppose since we found it so quickly, we have the time,” Triplicate said.
“Wonderful.”
*****
“Well, now what have we here?” Rare Breed said as they stepped out of the last line of trees and Libiris came into view ahead. “This is some kind of, ancient jungle monument. Maybe a temple built by pre-Celestia ponies. Could you imagine the fame somepony might earn for rediscovering a lost civilization?”
“Yeah, you’re about a thousand years to late,” Scootaloo said, rolling her eyes. “Starswirl the Bearded discovered this place.”
“I don’t know who that is,” Rare Breed said.
“Yeah, not all of us are history nerds,” Thistleroot said with a snicker as he walked forward.
“History... but we met...” Scootaloo’s eyes narrowed. “Okay, it’s on.”
The building itself didn’t look any different, but the area around it had been mostly cleared of the choking vines and leaves. The stag lead them toward the stairs to the front door.
“Look at these prints,” Rare Breed said, pausing just before the dirt floor became stone steps. He pointed down, to dozens of tracks coming to and from. “They’re consistent with the stag’s, but there’s too many. He’s either coming and going all the time, or there’s a fair number of them. Some are different sizes too.”
“It seems surprising that even a small number could be this close to the town and remain undiscovered,” Triplicate said.
“Indeed. Well, we won’t find any answers out here. Shall we?” Without waiting for an answer, Rare Breed climbed the steps and entered Libiris. Scootaloo and her friends followed.
The inside of Libiris was lit by the soft blue glow of crystals set into the walls at regular intervals. The hall opened up into a room that looked like it took nearly half the building. On either side was a door, and two more stood on the far end of the room.
At the center of the room was a semicircular wall. On the right side of the area surrounded by the wall was a flight of stairs leading down. To the left of the stairs was a large circle carved into the ground, which Scootaloo knew could be used to quickly visit other floors.
Unlike the last time they’d been there, the room was occupied. Two wooden creatures stood near the platform. One was a smaller creature with no antlers. A doe. The other, just as tall as the stag that had led them to Libiris, but seemingly ancient, with a beard of moss and dulled eyes, was the Librarian.
The Librarian looked up as they approached, his old eyes focusing.
“Well,” he said in his creaking, slow voice. “I was wondering if I would see you again.”
Rare Breed slowed to a stop, eyebrows raised.
“Hey,” Scootaloo said, fighting back a chuckle once more. “Long time no see.”
“For one as young as you, syopa.” The Librarian smiled. “For one as old as I? Ed ec namydeja. I am glad that you have returned when you did. I hoped you soon might.”
“Why?” Thistleroot asked.
“Because I began to remember some of what has been lost to me over the many long centuries,” the Librarian answered. “I have begun to understand once again what Libiris is, and what sleeps within.” As he spoke he leaned his head, gesturing toward the doe beside him.
Scootaloo’s eyes widened. “Wait, really?”
The Librarian nodded. “We do not know much of the outside world in this modern day, save for what we have gleaned from analyzing the pages of Power Ponies, Issue One, and right now knowledge is more important than anything. I think the Caagan, the knowledge seekers, are but one of the things locked away,” the Librarian said. “And I think others, outsiders, will come to take what is within.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt,” Rare Breed said, voice quiet, disbelieving. “But this is far more than I was expecting. The notes said that the encountered subject seemed intelligent, but you’re speaking. You’re really speaking. Lignum Viventem, speaking Equestrian. This is incredible.”
“Yes,” the Librarian said, focusing on Rare Breed, “I am speaking Equestrian. Whether it is incredible or not, well, all things are relative. I do not believe we have met.”
“Oh, right. Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“Wonder how many times he’s said that,” Thistleroot muttered under his breath. Scootaloo looked at him and chuckled, then focused once again on the Librarian. Her gaze wandered lower, to the doe at his side.
It was hard to tell, but she seemed younger. Not a child, but definitely not an adult. She had the same green gem-like eyes as the other wooden deer creatures Scootaloo had seen, and they were focused on Scootaloo. She gave the doe a small smile, and the doe smiled back before taking a step further behind the Librarian.
“My name is Rare Breed. I’m a researcher of exotic fauna from Trottingham. This is my associate, Triplicate. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Yes, you are... friends?” the Librarian asked slowly, looking back at Scootaloo.
“Close enough,” she said.
“Then it is... good to know you,” the Librarian said. “Have you anything to contribute to Libiris?”
“Uh, contribute?”
“It is customary for any creature who wishes to access the knowledge stored within these walls to first add to that knowledge, so that the Archive may continue to grow,” the Librarian explained. “It is one of the most basic laws governing the magic of Libiris.”
“Do you have any books your willing to part with?” Scootaloo asked.
“Or comics,” Thistleroot said.
“Oh,” Rare Breed said. “Uh, no. I have some empty notebooks, but that’s all.” He looked to Triplicate, who shook his head.
“Then I am afraid you must stay here,” the Librarian said.
“Oh,” Rare Breed said, smile faltering. “If we come back later with some books, would you mind answering a few questions?”
“Not at all,” the Librarian said.
“Wonderful.”
The Librarian nodded and gave Rare Breed a slow smile, then turned toward Scootaloo, Thistleroot, and Mimic. “You three, come.” He turned, and then looked down at the doe. “Oui yc famm, meddma uha.”
The doe nodded, glancing nervously at the ponies, and when the Librarian began walking, she walked alongside him.
“They talk, Triplicate,” Rare Breed whispered as they walked away. “We’re going to be famous.”
Scootaloo rolled her eyes and followed. She thought they would step onto the large circular platform beside the stairs, a magical teleporter that would take them to the stacks. The Librarian, however, circled around to the back of the room, toward one of the doors they had been unable to open the first time they’d come to Libiris. He spoke a single word and it swung outward.
“Where are we going?” Thistleroot asked.
“To see,” the Librarian answered.
“Great, we’re doing the wise old cryptic thing,” Thistleroot said.
“I will explain,” the Librarian said, “but words do not do it justice.”
Beyond the door was a small room and another circular platform. Unlike the teleporter, this one wasn’t flush to the floor. It was raised about six inches and surrounded by a silver band. The Librarian and the doe moved to the center, and the ponies followed.
“Could you give us something to go on?” Scootaloo asked. “What exactly are you worried about?”
“Intruders,” the Librarian said. “Those who once tried to gain access to Libiris, to gain power from it. We have gained no knowledge about the world since the time the eternal spirits battled for dominance. We do not know who won, or what became of the creatures in these lands as a result. That is what I hope to learn from you. You came once before seeking knowledge of Nocturne. The fact that you returned alive bodes well.”
The Librarian cleared his throat and spoke a few words in his own language, and the platform shuddered. The silver ring lifted smoothly from the floor until it was even with Scootaloo’s chest. She had just enough time to think it looked like a safety rail before the platform beneath her fell.
Scootaloo gritted her teeth and flared her wings. Mimic did the same while Thistleroot flailed. A moment later they realized that despite the walls of the tunnel flashing past them faster than any normal elevator, there was no sense of motion.
“Okay,” Thistleroot said, voice shaking. “Okay, this is fine. We’re good. Man, you have to hand it to these ancient civilizations, though. This is impressive.”
“Yeah,” Scootaloo said, looking back at the wall of the tunnel rushing past. They weren’t quite in a free fall, they weren’t accelerating any more, but the platform was still moving fast. Every second they flashed past another room. They’d probably already descended almost a thousand feet in just over ten seconds. “Just how far down are we going?”
“Not much further,” the Librarian said.
Another few seconds and the tunnel walls fell away to open space. Scootaloo’s stomach lurched and she heard Mimic gasp behind her. The platform came to a stop as suddenly as it started. Scootaloo would have been impressed at how smooth it was, if she weren’t busy trying to comprehend the sight below her.
The cavern they had entered was huge. Scootaloo shook her head and tried to think of a better word. Gigantic? Enormous? Colossal. The cavern they had entered was colossal. The ceiling curved away from the tunnel into a semicircle, lit by long bars of soft white light against the sky blue stone. The room at the bottom was easily wide enough to fit half of Ponyville, excluding Sweet Apple Acres.
The platform they were standing on was situated between two guide rails that extended from the tunnel above them and curved down the cavern lengthwise. A number of other rails crossed each other all around them.
The floor of the cavern was occupied by some kind of dark stone structures. Scootaloo’s first impression of them was of storage sheds she’d seen out at Sweet Apple Acres, but larger. They were each as long end to end as Twilight’s Castle, and probably three stories high. They were symmetrical, identical, and spaced evenly in perfect rows and columns.
“It’s impressive, but what is it,” Mimic asked.
“This one,” the Librarian answered, “Is filled with Caagan.”
“Caagan?” Scootaloo asked, looking from him back to the doe. “Wait, you mean...” She looked back down at the structures, eyes widening.
“This is where they sleep. Where they have slept for more than a thousand years,” the Librarian answered.
“Just how many are there?” Thistleroot asked.
“Each vault you see below houses ten, with the spells required to keep them alive and in stasis indefinitely. We have thirty six awake at the moment, and one thousand nine hundred sixty four still sleeping.”
“You said this one,” Mimic said. “Are there more rooms like this?”
The Librarian nodded. “There are eight, including this one. Some contain books, art, magic. Others contain plants and seeds. There are some we do not yet know the entire contents of. As I said, we are still waking, still remembering.”
“Why?” Thistleroot asked. “Why all of this?”
“That is what I wish to show you next, but we will have to move on,” the Librarian said. The platform began moving again with no visible prompting. Within seconds the had crossed to the far wall of the room and had entered a horizontal shaft, following the rails in a curving line. Smaller rooms flashed by every few seconds.
Moments later, they found themselves in another chamber. This one was smaller, only two hundred feet across, and circular, but Scootaloo couldn’t make out a ceiling or a floor. The cavern disappeared into a soft white fog after a few hundred feet in either direction.
“Just how big is this place?” she asked.
“I do not know,” the Librarian answered. “We have yet to find the bottom.”
The platform began moving upward, following the guide rails in a lazy spiral. Every fifty feet or so there was a catwalk crossing the cavern.
Something took shape in the fog above them. Some kind of machinery. The platform drew even with it after a few seconds. It came to a stop and then shifted forward, docking onto a larger platform at the base of the machine. A bronze control panel sat at the edge, now directly in front of them. It was covered in the same kind of glowing runes Scootaloo had seen on her first trip to Libiris.
The machine was made of large, concentric rings, some whole, some missing small sections or even entire halves. Scootaloo was vaguely reminded of a gyroscope toy Pipsqueak had once shown her. The shaft that the machine was housed in had similar rings along the walls, encircling Scootaloo and her friends.
The smallest circle at the center had a brass nozzle facing inward, and a light mist was spraying from it, creating a cloud at the center of the contraption. More mist was drifting from the outer rings around their platform.
“I have been spending much of my time here, since I discovered it,” the Librarian said. With this apparatus, I have been able to recall more about the events that occurred prior to Libiris’s sealing. This is the praeteritorium.”
“This thing is awesome,” Thistleroot said, looking up at the machine, and for a moment, Scootaloo could have sworn she saw a tear at the corner of his eye. “What’s it do?”
“A demonstration,” the Librarian said. “As I said before, words do not do it justice.” He stepped forward, and the points of his antlers flickered with green light. The runes on the control panel flashed and changed, displaying some kind of running readout that Scootaloo couldn’t make heads or tails of.
The rings making up the center of the machine began to turn, spinning on their axes as the outer rings they were mounted on spun in turn, giving the effect of a broken sphere. At the same time, the outer rings began to turn, spilling mist as the did so until Scootaloo could no longer see the walls of the shaft.
The mist at the center of the machine thickened and scattered as it hit the turning rings, drifting above and below them. It met the mist drifting off the outer rings, and before long Scootaloo couldn’t see past the platform they stood on. It was almost like standing in a cloud, but she could still make out her friends perfectly. She could make out the edge of the platform, but nothing beyond, not even the rails holding them.
Something shifted in her head, in the way she was perceiving the cloud around them. No longer did it feel like mist, but instead like an endless white void. The machine had vanished, and even the sound it had been making was gone. The platform and those standing on it were the only things that existed any more.
The Librarian lowered his head so that his antler’s rested above a circular plate on the control panel. The points sparked with green energy, which rushed to meet in the center and formed a glowing orb of energy half an inch across. The Librarian lifted his head, and the orb remained suspended over the plate.
Darkness rushed in, and the white was replaced with a black pitch. Again, Scootaloo could see the other ponies, the Librarian, and the doe, but everything beyond was obscured by darkness.
Not everything, Scootaloo realized. There was a shape in the darkness. Something indistinct standing not ten feet in front of them. The fur on the back of her neck stood up as she watched. Something felt off. Somehow, though she couldn’t have possibly explained why, she knew the shape before them was alive.
A light appeared on the floor beside the shape, a tiny sliver of gold illuminated a wooden leg and a pony’s face. Scootaloo gasped, and stepped back.
Ten feet away, another Scootaloo straightened and uncovered more of the glowing crystal she held in her hooves. The Scootaloo in the darkness held the crystal higher, shining light on the still figure of the Librarian. She chuckled softly and circled around to his face.
The Scootaloo on the platform watched, her heart still racing from the sudden shock of seeing herself. A hint of familiarity started to dawn on her. She remembered this.
The copy of the Librarian turned to look at the copy of Scootaloo. She flinched, fumbling the shard for just a moment and skittered back. A table took shape in the darkness just as she bumped into it and flattened herself against it.
The copy of the Librarian spoke, “Knaadehkc.”
“This is a memory,” Scootaloo said. “This machine lets you watch memories.”
“No, but you are close,” the Librarian said. “Many different spells could be created to view what is within one’s head. Thoughts of the future and memories of the past, but the mortal mind is imperfect. Memories become skewed, pieces go missing, emotions cast shadows on what we once saw clearly. But the mind is not the only place memories are stored. They are carried within our magic and our beings. They are what shape us.”
The images of Scootaloo and the Librarian faded, and the white void returned.
“The praeteritorium shows moments in the past as they truly happened, untainted by the mortal mind.”
“That’s amazing,” Thistleroot said, stepping forward half a step to get a better look at the control panel.
“It is useful,” the Librarian said.
“This machine, can it show us anything? Any point in the past?” Mimic asked, looking thoughtful.
The Librarian shook his head. “As I said, the memories of the past are a part of our magic. It can view events that its user witnessed, and it can be used to observe the history of magical items, so long as the item is present, but it is not omnipotent. That, and the user must know when and where they wish to observe. Much of my time with the praeteritorium has been used to observe calm days. I have only managed to find several moments in time of particular significance.”
“Even with those drawbacks, it’s still more impressive than anything I've ever seen,” Thistleroot said.
It was, Scootaloo thought. With a machine like that, maybe she could even see... “Yeah, it’s cool and all,” she said, “but I’m more interested in what you want to show us with it. Whatever makes you think somepony is going to be after... uh, whatever it is you have in here.”
The Librarian nodded and the points of his antlers flickered again. This time, a small crystal, about half the size of Scootaloo’s hoof, appeared before him. “The memory I wish to show you is not my own. This crystal is a part of the Archive, a part of Libiris. It is connected to the complex matrix that composes both.”
The Librarian moved the crystal to hover over the plate on the control panel, and once again the mist around them began to darken. “I fear the immortals that once fought for control will set their eyes upon us, now that Libiris has been unsealed.”
The sky above them became a brilliant blue. Grass spread from the platform in every direction, and trees sprung up further away. Within moments they were in a large clearing at the center of a familiar forest.
“It will take a moment to adjust,” the Librarian said, antlers flickering as the symbols on the control panel brightened and darkened. “There is little point in showing you these memories if you can not understand the language.”
“Why show us at all?” Scootaloo asked, frowning. “If you have questions about what’s going on in the world, we’re happy to answer them. You helped us before, we owe you one.”
“But I mean,” Thistleroot added hastily, “feel free to show us anyway. We wouldn’t want to miss out on this awesome, once in a lifetime experience, would we, Scootaloo?” He gave a forced laugh.
Scootaloo rolled her eyes.
“The last time you were here, you were accompanied by a dragon,” the Librarian said. “Am I correct in saying it was your actions that broke the seal upon Libiris?”
“Yeah,” Scootaloo said, glancing aside. “Sorry, if that’s a bad thing. We didn’t really know anything about it back then.”
“No apology is required. Libiris was never meant to be sealed forever. That said, the circumstances around its sealing were not as intended, and I feel it is important that you understand the full reach of your actions that day. It may well affect your kind.”
Scootaloo focused on the forest around her. It was a bright day, either Spring or early Summer. Before them, nearly flush with the ground was a large stone shape, the foundation of what would someday be Libiris’s top floor. She could see openings near the center, though it was hard to tell from her current angle whether or not the stairs leading down had already been built. She almost took to the air to get a better look before remembering that what she was seeing wasn’t real. It was hard to wrap her head around the fact that a thick cloud of mist was still surrounding them. Everything seemed so real.
The Librarian touched a hoof to a flat square of glass flush with the control panel. It hummed with a faint light, and the scene shifted slightly. The clouds changed, the sun moved to a new point in the sky, and standing before them was a creature.
The creature standing in front of them was powerful. That was Scootaloo’s first impression. Even across millennia and through the filter of the praeteritorium, it radiated from the creature in the same way it had from Nocturne.
Like the knowledge seekers and the Librarian, the creature was shaped like a stag. It wasn’t made of wood though, or at least, it wasn’t entirely made of wood. It’s upper body and head were made of a glowing, light green substance, almost as though its body was made of pure energy. It had antlers made of the same energy, six points on each side. It’s face was smooth and sleek, with no visible mouth and two brilliant white points of light for eyes.
The bottom half of its forelegs and it’s hindquarters and hind legs were made of wood, but not the brown, rough wood of the seekers or timberwolves. It was the pale living wood found under freshly peeled bark. Thin, vibrant green vines wove around the wooden parts of his body.
The creature stood at the front of the foundation, facing away from it, toward the ponies.
A hiss of displeasure drew Scootaloo’s attention from it and toward Mimic. She followed the changeling’s gaze to find two more figures standing a ways off.
“That’s right,” Thistleroot said, “Nocturne helped seal Libiris, didn’t she?”
“She did,” the Librarian confirmed.
Nocturne stood near the corner of the foundation, and beside her was Rosalia. Nocturne was just as Scootaloo remembered her, but Rosalia’s mane was different. There were no hints of pink at the tips, and without them it was harder to tell her from her sisters.
“Who’s the green guy?” Scootaloo asked, pulling her attention away from the changeling queens.
“That is the Archive.”
Scootaloo blinked. “I thought the Archive was like,” she gestured around her, “all of this. The library, the books. That stuff.”
“It is,” the Librarian said, “and it is the being that created Libiris, the one that created us to gather and safeguard all the knowledge we could, so that it would never be lost to the whims of time. But our purpose...” He trailed off and shook his head. “Better to watch.”
A dull thud pounded through the air around them, like a beat from an enormous drum. The trees shuddered, as though struck by a sudden gust of wind. A few seconds later, the beat repeated, louder, and then a third time.
A voice sounded inside Scootaloo’s head. He’s here.
She blinked, frowning. Thistleroot’s head snapped up, eyes widening as he turned, looking over his shoulder.
It was just like how Discord used to talk to her, while he was still trapped in stone. “That was the archive?” The Librarian nodded.
“Oh, okay,” Thistleroot said. “Heh, I guess it makes sense, since he doesn’t have a mouth or anything. Still kinda creepy.”
Scootaloo opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by a deafening crash. The platform beneath their hooves shuddered, and a wave of dust washed over the clearing, though none of it entered the bubble of space around them.
Scootaloo and the others turned toward the source of the sound behind them. The sky seemed to be pushing out further, clouds appearing suddenly as the space being shown to them grew to accommodate the memory.
A shape took form above them, towering above the trees of the forest. First, teeth longer than Scootaloo. Next, black scales framing gleaming yellow eyes. Vertical, cat like pupils looked down at the clearing. Enormous wings came next, shading a huge expanse of the forest below.
“Okay,” Thistleroot said, a pronounced tremor in his voice. “Didn’t know dragons could get that big. Glad to know something like that exists. That’s gonna help me sleep.”
Cinder, the voice said inside their heads. It echoed faintly, like Nocturne’s, but the tone was more casual. It sounded to Scootaloo like a young stallion’s voice, bright and earnest behind the tremor of power. Please be more careful. There are trees in this forest older than us.
The dragon snorted, two streams of black smoke spewing into the air, and then its lips peeled back from its teeth and it let out a bassy laugh that shook the surrounding trees. It spoke, and though it used real words, Scootaloo could practically feel each word vibrating through her bones. “If these trees wanted to live longer, they shouldn’t have taken root where I would one day stand.”
The Archive didn’t answer, but Scootaloo could feel a sense of resignation, like a mental sigh. He shook his head. Well, at any rate, it’s good to see you again.
“Yes. It has been some time, hasn’t it? And Nocturne too. I didn’t realize this was to be a family reunion.”
“Family?” Rosalia said, sniffing. “That word does not mean what you seem to think it does.”
The dragon, Cinder, laughed again. “It is a word. It means whatever we want it to mean.”
That isn’t... Well, actually, he’s not entirely wrong.
“And if anyone disagrees, I’ll step on them.”
Another mental sigh. Nocturne stepped forward, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, and she spoke. It wasn’t in the lofty, regal tone Scootaloo was used to from her. Her voice was softer, and had a musical quality to it. It suited her. “It is good to see you too, Cinder, though I don’t think this is to be much of a reunion. Archive, this is about your project, isn’t it?”
It is. After all these years, we’re almost done building. All that’s left is the entrance.
“And that’s what you needed us for?” Cinder asked.
It is. The Archive turned toward the incomplete Libiris. I’m confident in my work protecting it, but this will be the door. It’s naturally going to be the weakest point in the defenses. If anything is going to get in, it’ll be through here.
“You prepare for the worst,” Nocturne said. “You bet against yourself.”
That’s one way to look at it, I suppose. Not all of us have your... The Archive trailed off as Nocturne tilted her head. Confidence. Nocturne smiled and nodded. Knowledge must be safeguarded for future generations, should the worst happen. Nothing, certainly not my own pride, can interfere with that.
“You overvalue what you know,” Nocturne said. “But I suppose I would expect nothing else from you. What is it you need from us?”
I need the entrance to be strong. Strong enough to withstand anything.
Cinder laughed again, the sound shuddering through the trees and sending a flock of birds into panicked flight a hundred yards away. “I see. Fine. I promise you, nothing is stronger than stone forged in dragonfire. The walls of your shelter will be standing long after we are dead and buried.”
Nocturne’s mouth quirked up again. “I thought you intended to live forever?”
Cinder bared his teeth in a grin. “I do.”
Well, that’s certainly promising, the Archive said. As for you, Nocturne, I was hoping you could use your unique magic to create a door.
“I think I understand,” Nocturne said. “You need a way to enter and leave, obviously, but a door would naturally be weaker than the walls surrounding it. A door that’s only a door while it’s open? Well, it would be a challenge, but it’s an interesting challenge at least.
“That’s why we were able to get in,” Mimic said. “Thistleroot moved the vines with his plant magic, then Spike’s dragonfire weakened the wall enough that my changeling magic could turn it into a door.”
The Librarian nodded. “It was a crude seal. Had things gone as planned, Libiris would have had a proper key, and a much stronger lock. Years passed as dragonfire forge the final walls, and Nocturne worked with the Archive to design their spell.”
The scene blurred. The sky flickered between day and night and back again. Libiris stood completed before them. Archive once again stood outside, facing the front doors. He was alone for a moment, and then Rosalia appeared, touching down at the edge of the clearing, teeth barred, horn sparking with green energy.
There was silence, and then the Archive spoke.
It had to be done.
Rosalia’s jaw worked, eyes narrowed, but no sound came from her.
She was out of control. They all are. Your own sisters knew it. They all want to rule, but none of them truly care about the creatures of this world.
Finally, Rosalia spoke. “Cinder is dead.”
The Archive turned, bright eyes widening. Scootaloo felt a wave of shock followed by confusion, disbelief, and finally an anguished realization. How?
“I don’t know,” Rosalia said, the anger in her gaze flickering with uncertainty. “You know better than I what could have done it. Who could have. But, nothing seems likely. That isn’t all. Discord beat Law. He trapped her in some kind of hole in space. It isn’t stable. It won’t hold her forever, but there’s no way I could survive reaching into it. She’ll have to claw her way out on her own, and it’s going to take time. Trader’s sitting out, as usual, and nobody else has enough power to challenge him. Nobody but you.”
The Archive shook his head. I told you, I have no interest in this war.
“No!” Rosalia snarled. “You don’t get to say that. Not after you helped them build that prison. It’s your fault my lady is gone.” She stalked forward. “Don’t you get it? Discord is going to win. Do you think he’ll care about the creatures of this world any more than my lady would? This isn’t about what you want anymore. It’s about what you have to do. For everyone.”
Another wordless feeling. Indecision. Guilt. Resolve. I will do what I must.
“Good,” Rosalia said. “I can help. I may not be as powerful as you, but together, we can—”
You misunderstand. I will do what I must, for the good of everyone. I will protect Libiris.
“You coward!” Rosalia shouted. “If you won’t fight him, then at least tell me how to free Nocturne.”
There was a long moment before Archive replied. Your sisters have a key. It’s protected, however. Don’t touch it yourself, get someone else to move it for you. Another moment passed. Rosalia, understand, I do not shy away from facing Discord for fear of my own well being.
Rosalia snorted, looking up at the Archive with undisguised contempt.
Even should Discord take over, the damage he could do on his own is limited.
“That’s your plan, then?” Rosalia asked. “Hide in your shelter until the danger passes? Rebuild centuries from now?”
Perhaps, but I doubt it will be necessary. There are many powerful magics in this world, and mortals are more tenacious than you give them credit for.
“Then why?”
Because there are many powerful magics in this world, the Archive said. And some must be kept safe, no matter the cost.
Rosalia looked past the Archive, toward Libiris for the first time. “What? What do you have in there?”
The Archive didn’t answer.
“Use it,” Rosalia said. “If you have some powerful magic hidden away, use it! If it’s so powerful that you must keep it out of Discord’s paws, then surely it’s enough to defeat him.”
“Yes, Archie, use it. Save the world from big bad Discord,” Discord said.
Scootaloo’s head whipped up toward the familiar voice. Discord was sitting on a tree branch near the edge of the clearing, watching the Archive and Rosalia with a predatory grin.
A faint blue line appeared in the air starting above the Archive and moving toward Rosalia as the Archive spoke. I can not hope to defeat him. Please, Rosalia, he must be kept from Libiris. We must seal it.
Rosalia turned from Discord to the Archive. Her mouth didn’t move, but Scootaloo could hear her voice. At the same time, another line appeared in the air, this time moving from Rosalia toward the Archive. Seal it? Are you a fool as well as a coward? She blinked, and the anger drained from her face. No, you aren’t. The last thing you are is a fool. Surely you must realize... Fine.
I will buy you what time I can. Finish Nocturne’s spell. You’re the only one who can.
The Archive spoke again, but this time there was no line in the air. Scootaloo realized the lines must be the praeteritorium’s way of letting them know that Discord hadn’t part of the previous exchange. Discord. You changed your arm again.
“Oh, you noticed,” Discord said, vanishing from the tree branch and appearing before them in the clearing. He held up his paw, but rather than the lion’s limb Scootaloo was used to, it was the larger black paw of a bear. “You know, I’m still not happy with it.” He shrugged. “I’ll get it right eventually.” He took a step closer. “I’m disappointed, you know. Here I was starting to think we’d be partners. Friends even.” Discord drew out the word friends with a sarcastic disdain and grinned. It was a grin that sent shivers down Scootaloo’s spine. There was no warmth behind, no sincerity. This Discord was every nightmare she’d had of him made real. This Discord was undeniably evil.
He’s changed, she told herself. She’d already known he was evil once, but he changed. This wasn’t him anymore. Right?
The Archive began walking, circling to Discord’s right. Discord kept his attention focused entirely on his equal, not bothering to give Rosalia so much as a passing glance. As soon as the turn brought her out of the peripheral of his vision, Rosalia’s horn began to glow with a faint green light.
You have no interest in friendship, the Archive said.
“Well, no, I suppose not,” Discord said, voice bored. “And yet, you still prefered me over Nocturne.”
You are erratic and arrogant to a fault, the Archive said. If anyone is to fall to the mortals that you all are looking to rule over, it will be you.
Discord gave a “hmph” sound, raised his bear paw, and snapped. The trees near the Archive became clawed hands and reached for him. The Archive straightened, head tilting back, and a small spark of energy appeared between his antlers, solidifying into a brilliant green crystal. The grasping trees were held at bay as streamers of green magic wrapped around them. There was a flash, and the trees reverted to their original forms.
The archive moved, becoming a mass of green energy and flitting behind Discord. He resolidified and turned, and there was a wave of sound from the green crystal between his antlers. The sound wasn’t particularly loud, but the image of Discord covered both of his ears as the air around him seemed to distort. Scootaloo guessed the praeteritorium had turned down the volume for them.
Discord managed to slip through the Archive’s attack, reappearing a few dozen feet behind him.
It was odd, Scootaloo thought, watching the two eternal spirits fight. It wasn’t the first time she’d had a front seat to a fight like this. She’d watched Princess Celestia fight the Changeling Queen Lirian twice, and she’d even watched a fight between Discord and Nocturne. This time, there was no real danger, though. She could watch the fight without fearing the outcome, or worrying that a stray attack would hit her.
She wouldn’t have ever bet against Discord, but the Archive managed to keep pace with him. The weird stag creature seemed to have as many different kinds of magic as Twilight Sparkle, attacking with sound, air, water and ice, as well as transforming plants and rocks, and a dozen other things Scootaloo didn’t quite understand.
Discord, on the other hand, used his magic as he always had. He turned the floor beneath the Archive into soap and shoved him over. He made the clouds above rain rocks, and turned the Archive’s attacks into bizarre creatures before they could strike him.
But even with as much power as they both had, it was clear that the Archive wasn’t a fighter. Each time Discord managed to get the better of him, the Archive’s next few moves came slower. He was overthinking things, Scootaloo thought. Trying to plan out his next few moves while Discord beat him back in the current moment. A few more seconds, and it was over. The Archive moved to slow to dodge, and ended up covered in some kind of sticky tar, pinned to the ground under its weight. He tried to pull free, but the tar held still, and even freeing himself with magic would have taken him a moment, left him defenseless.
“Well, that was fun,” Discord said. “Now, I don’t suppose you’ll be willing to sit here quietly while I go inside, will you?”
A moment passed, and then the Archive answered, You win. I can’t beat you.
Discord blinked, and the grin returned to his face. “Oh? Well, good. I’m not sure how I would have dealt with you, anyway. I already did the hole thing to Law, and I’d hate for things to get repetitive.”
Discord, please, hear me out. You don’t have to do this.
“And that won’t last forever, anyway. I don’t have any other prisons lying around, and don’t think I’m going to fall for the brier-patch thing. I’ve heard that story too.” Discord turned to begin walking away. “I’m sorry, Archie, but I’ve got things to do, creatures to rule.”
Discord froze, gaze falling on Rosalia for the first time. The changeling queen stood rigid, horn glowing. The open doorway of Libiris glowed as with it. A line ran from her to the Archive, Just a few more seconds.
Discord and the Archive moved at the same moment. Discord rushed forward as the Archive lowered his head, green energy pouring into the ground. Discord had cleared almost half the space toward Libiris when the clearing around them exploded with life.
Vines, some as thick around as Scootaloo’s neck, shot up from the ground, wrapping around Discord’s legs and slowing him. He turned, pulling away, and snapped. The vines vanished, but more struck at Discord from the front like angry snakes.
The Archive’s magic flashed again, and the tar that held him flowed away from his body. He became energy again and rushed forward, flowing between the violently writhing vines he’d summoned.
The Archive beat Discord to Libiris by a single heartbeat, retaking his form as sound once again blasted from between his horns. Discord fought against it, arms outstretched.
The vines lashed around Discord’s body as the wave of sound faded, dragging him backwards while the Archive moved further into Libiris. The Archive’s magic flared once again. The doors of Libiris slammed shut and a wave of green magic washed over the building. A moment later, the magic turned red and spread over the doors before fading. Rosalia’s horned flared brighter, and a beam of changeling fire hit the door. It washed over the doors, and as it did they changed, becoming solid stone, flush with the rest of the wall. Rosalia sagged as her spell ended.
The violent plant growth the Archive had sparked slowed, the vines falling back against the ground. Many of the vines had grown up along Libiris’s walls, and some of them continued growing for several more seconds, covering the section of the wall that had once been the door, until the clearing looked exactly as it had a year ago.
Discord snapped again, and the vines fell away from him. He landed before Libris and knocked on the wall. He snapped once, twice, and then a third time. Then he turned toward Rosalia.
The changeling queen just glared up at him in undisguised hatred.
Finally, Discord smiled. “You know what this means, don’t you?”
Rosalia said nothing.
“I’ll get this place open soon enough, but for now.” Discord raised his arm to snap once again. “There’s no one left. I win.” And then he was gone.
The mist faded, taking the visions of the past with it. The machinery that made up the praeteritorium fell silent and the platform began to move again, back the way they had come. Scootaloo and her friends were silent as the Librarian focused.
Scootaloo kept picturing Discord as he’d appeared in the memory: laughing, dangerous, and unquestionably evil. A cold weight had settled into the pit of her stomach.
Discord knew that Libiris was unsealed. He knew that whatever magic had been locked away was up for grabs. Scootaloo had been the one to tell him, when she’d recounted the events that had lead to his release. He hadn’t mentioned knowing of the place. If he’d really changed, wouldn’t he have said something?
“Why did Rosalia help?” Mimic asked, breaking the silence.
“Hmm?” The Librarian turned to look at her.
“When Discord showed up, Rosalia went from hating the Archive to helping him,” Mimic said. “She knew sealing Libiris wouldn’t keep Discord from winning. Why would she help the Archive escape like that?”
The Librarian shook his head. “The Archive did not escape. Understand, Libiris was not built to be a vault. Not in the way it was used, at least. It was meant to safeguard knowledge in the face of calamity. To weather the end of civilization. The Archive sealed it early, to keep Discord out. The Eternal Spirit of Knowledge locked away the greatest collection of information ever seen. When Rosalia understood what he was asking of her, I imagine she realized how important it was that Discord be kept out.”
“The Archive didn’t survive, did he?” Scootaloo asked, thinking back. Discord had told them before that he and Nocturne were immortal. That only thing could kill them was acting against their nature.
The Librarian shook his head. “Neither myself nor any of the keepers were there at the time. We were already deep within Libiris, preparing to sleep for as long as it remained sealed. I have not seen any sign of him, however. I can only imagine he was unmade by such a significant action.”
Scootaloo frowned. She didn’t know why she would be sad. She never met him, and he died over a thousand years before she was born, but she was anyway. She could still see Discord, the grin spreading across his face as he realized there was nopony left to challenge him.
“With the Archive gone, and Libiris opened once again, the time may come that we must defend it ourselves,” the Librarian said. “We have been fortunate so far. None of the spirits that would come to claim the magic Discord once sought seem to have realized it, and that has given us a chance to wake and remember. What we need now is to learn more.”
The platform came to a stop in one of the long, curved tunnels that connected to the larger hangar like storage room. The Librarian led them through a door and into a room with familiar looking table-like devices, each set with a crystal lense. They were the same devices the Librarian had used to log Spike’s comic during their first visit.
On the side of each table was a drawer. The smaller deer creature, one of the Archive’s seekers, Scootaloo guessed they were called, moved toward one. She hadn’t said a word since Scootaloo and her friends had arrived, had hardly moved from the Librarian’s side, and Scootaloo had nearly forgotten about her.
The seeker pulled open the drawer and dipped her head inside. A moment later she pulled out a pad of old, browned paper and placed it on the table. A bottle of ink and a quill followed the paper.
“I have not made introductions, have I?” the Librarian asked, shaking his head. “I am sorry. My time waiting in Libiris has not done any favors to my memory. This is Coco. My personal assistant, I believe would be the term. She is here to take notes. Because, well, my time waiting in Libiris and so on.”
“Uh, nice to meet you, Coco,” Thistleroot said.
The doe hesitated, gaze moving to Thistleroot as he addressed her. “Knaadehkc.”
“Knaadehkc,” Thistleroot said, smiling. “You don’t speak Equestrian, do you?”
“Hu etay fryd oui cyet,” Coco answered.
“Oh, right,” the Librarian said, chuckling softly. He turned, and the doe backed away, facing him. He lowered his head so that his antlers were on either side of hers, and the points began to spark with green energy. Coco closed her eyes, wincing, and then the light faded. The Librarian straightened and stepped away.
Coco turned back to the ponies. She hesitated, mouth half opened, and then she said in a soft, halting voice, “Hello. I am... pleased... to meet you?”
There was brief silence broken by Thistleroot asking in a flat voice, “What?”
“Did you just learn Equestrian?” Scootaloo asked, face going from a slack look of shock to a bewildered smile. “That’s awesome! Oh, do me, do me! Can you teach me your language? No, wait! Teach me changeling! Or dragon!”
The Librarian smiled softly. “I am afraid it does not work that way.”
“Oh,” Scootaloo said, the smile faltering. She shrugged, and then noticed a mumbling sound coming from behind her. She turned to see Thistleroot sitting back on his haunches, whispering quietly to himself.
“...taught her Equestrian in seconds you can’t just transfer knowledge with magic like that it’s not that easy at least three natural laws of magic have to be rewritten this changes everything we know about mind magic it’s not even just the words she sounded natural something like that should fry your brain but she seems just fine and they act like it’s just another day like it wasn’t grossly impossible...”
“I think he’s broken,” Mimic said.
“He’ll be fine in a minute,” Scootaloo said. “Why wouldn’t it work on us?”
“It is because we... Caagan... Knowledge Seekers, are connected to Libiris,” Coco said, her halting voice becoming more sure with each second. “We are capable of knowing that which is stored within the Archive. Some knowledge is harder to know than others. I’m not experienced enough to know a language on my own, so the Gaaban, the Keeper, helped me.”
“Ponies call me Librarian,” the Librarian said, “but other than that, well done. You handle knowledge well, little one.” He turned back toward Scootaloo, and Coco picked up the quill in her teeth. “Now then.”
“Discord was defeated a few months after Libiris was sealed,” Scootaloo said. “He and Nocturne were both imprisoned for most of the thousand years since, but they were both freed a year ago, when we first showed up. We don’t know anything about any of the other spirits.” She swallowed, and then continued, “Discord knows that Libiris was opened. He’s known for almost a year.”
*****
Scootaloo, Thistleroot, and Mimic made their way back through the forest surrounding Libiris almost an hour later, following a short ways behind Rare Breed and Triplicate. The three of them had told the Librarian most everything they could think of about Discord and Nocturne, though Scootaloo had skipped a few details, like the fact that she’d been the one to free Discord and tell him about Libiris. She told herself those details wouldn’t affect how well the Librarian could protect Libiris, but guilt gnawed at her anyway.
They’d found Rare Breed and Triplicate waiting for them in the main room. Triplicate had spent the time making a list of the different books and field guides they’d brought with them, marking each on a scale of one to ten on how important it was, and putting stars next to the ones he thought they could spare for access to Libiris.
Rare Breed had spent the time sketching in one of the journals he’d brought. By the time Scootaloo and the others had returned, he had a pair of surprisingly accurate pictures of the Librarian and the first seeker they’d encountered outside. Scootaloo couldn’t help but notice the money signs drawn in the margin.
“We’re still a little ahead of schedule, given how quickly we were able to find Lignum Viventum-006-1,” Triplicate was saying. “We can schedule a—”
A sudden gasp interrupted him, and the group looked back at Thistleroot. He was backing toward the side of the trail, eyes wide, looking out into the forest. Scootaloo turned, crouching and looking for whatever danger he’d spotted, but the trees around them were still. “What?”
“Lion!” Thistleroot squeaked. “There was a lion. Right over there. It was huge!”
“Oh, for goodness sake,” Rare Breed said. “There aren’t any lions in these forests. They aren’t native to any place close by.”
“Maybe it was a manticore,” Mimic said, not relaxing from her own ready position just yet.
“Not native either,” Rare Breed said. “At any rate, if there is some large predator out there, we’ll be fine as long as we stay in a group, and nopony starts limping and bringing up the rear.” He turned and started walking again. “Remember, they’re more afraid of you than you are of them.”
*****
“Remember, they’re more afraid of you than you are of them,” the brown pony said as he began walking again. The others followed, though the blue unicorn and the two pegasi all gave one last look into the forest.
Law watched them go, hidden within the branches of a tree well above where they were looking, and gave a small smile. As though anything would be afraid of a pony.
She’d seen what she’d needed. The orange pegasus wasn’t anything special, per se, but she’d already entered Libiris. Discord had simply chosen a pony with a head start. Typical. She would have to choose her own champion quickly, lest Discord’s unwitting pawn take the prize before anyone else began playing.
One of the other ponies, perhaps? No. None of them had the right temperament. She would have to find somepony close, one who could be trusted with the truth of what was at stake.
Once the sounds of the ponies had faded, Law took flight. Time was of the essence, now more than before.
*****
Rare Breed and Triplicate decided to go for food, since nopony had bothered to fill their shared house’s cupboards yet. Scootaloo considered going with them, but there were things she needed to discuss privately with her friends. Thistleroot and Mimic followed her lead, and the three of them made their way back.
“So,” Mimic said, “any thoughts on what we’re going to do?”
Scootaloo frowned. “I guess we should talk to Discord.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Thistleroot asked. “He uh... well, you saw it too.”
“Yeah,” Scootaloo said. “But that was a long time ago. He’s changed.” She paused and then shook her head. “He’s probably changed. Even if he hasn’t, he already knows that Libiris is open. How much damage could talking to him do?”
Thistleroot groaned. “You never ask ‘how bad could it be’! Come on, Scootaloo.”
Scootaloo grinned. “Oops.” They’d reached the house and she quickly unlocked the door and lead them in.
Discord and Nocturne were in their living room.
Discord was standing, stretched to his full height, lifting the ugly pink couch upside down and pressing it to the ceiling. A bucket labeled “sovereign glue” with a paintbrush sticking out of it sat on the floor beside him. Nocturne watched him, sitting back in a dignified pose, her dark blue and green ethereal mane drifting gently, with the faintest hint of a smile on her face.
“Oh, Scootaloo,” Discord said, yanking his arms away and putting them behind his back. “You’re home early.” A few seconds of surprised silence later, the couch fell with an audible pop and landed on his head. There was a puff of smoke and when it cleared, the couch had been returned to its normal position with Discord sitting on top of it. The glue can disappeared in another puff.
“Uh, hi, Discord,” Scootaloo said.
“What’s she doing here?” Mimic asked, venom creeping into her voice as she lifted her chin toward the first changeling queen. Nocturne’s gaze focused on the smaller changeling, and though Mimic met her eyes without blinking, Scootaloo could see the sudden stiff set of her friend’s legs and shoulders.
“Caa? Cra ec cdemm syt,” Nocturne said.
Discord waved a dismissive paw toward her. “Now, now, everypony, play nice. All of that enemy nonsense is behind us, right?”
“Why are you here?” Mimic asked, addressing Nocturne directly this time.
Nocturne gave a small smile. It looked graceful, almost like the warm smiles Scootaloo had seen Celestia give her. It reminded her of the Nocturne they’d seen in the praeteritorium, laughing with Cinder and the Archive.
“Mimic. I wish to speak with you alone. Walk with me.” Scootaloo was surprised at the tone of her voice, missing the echoing qualities she’d first heard Nocturne speak with, as well as the royal we. Nocturne wasn’t putting on airs.
Mimic opened her mouth, presumably to say no, but then hesitated, glancing to Scootaloo and Thistleroot, and then to Discord. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”
“Well,” Nocturne said slowly, as though pondering the question, “ordinarily, perhaps. There is certainly no question that I could make you, but,” Nocturne glanced back at Discord, and then tilted her head, “doing so would render you ineffectual, in the long term. If you will not walk with me of your own accord, then I will simply go.”
“Just like that,” Mimic said, frowning.
“Discord has told me stories,” Nocturne said, “of creatures called Sombra and Tirek, of his own attempts at taking over. And it is clear that you are a friend of the ponies. I am not one to repeat the mistakes of others, certainly not out of petty spite.”
Mimic hesitated for just a second longer and then her shoulders relaxed. “Fine.” She turned back to the door, and then looked over her shoulder, “Put something else on. Nopony here knows I’m a changeling, and I want to keep it that way.”
Scootaloo expected anger from Nocturne at being spoken to that way, but her smile stayed in place and with a whisper of power she’d taken the form of a tall, jet black pegasus pony with an icy blue-green mane.
Mimic sighed and turned to Scootaloo. “I’ll be right back.”
Scootaloo nodded, and the changelings departed.
“She’ll be okay, right?” Thistleroot asked.
“She should be,” Discord said, sounding bored. “Nocturne’s always been a weird one. She actually likes it when her underlings stand up for themselves. She says it means she did something right.”
“Well, if she wants changelings to be tough, she’s talking to the right one,” Scootaloo said. She turned back to Discord and hesitated. “It’s uh, it’s funny you happened to show up. We actually wanted to talk to you.”
“Oh?” Discord said, leaning forward and resting his chin in his paws, “do tell?”
“Well,” Scootaloo said, trying to calm her nerves. He’d changed. “We wanted to talk to you about Libiris.”
“What a coincidence,” Discord said, leaning back and clapping his paws together. “That’s why I came here.”
“To get into Libiris?” Thistleroot asked, voice shaking.
“No, to talk to you about it. Well, to talk to her.” He turned his attention back to Scootaloo. “I’m guessing you know why Libiris was sealed in the first place.”
Scootaloo nodded. “To keep you out.”
“And now that it’s opened again, you’re worried that I’m going to resume my plans of Equestrian domination?”
“Are you?”
Discord snapped his talons, and Scootaloo winced despite herself. A roll of glowing golden paper spun into existence beside him. He grabbed it, unfurled it with a roll of his wrist, and held it out. Scootaloo approached, eyebrow raised, and started reading.
“This contract binds all signatories into an agreement of non-aggression to be described for an unending period of time, or until this contract is voided by an agreement of the part of a majority of... what the hay am I reading?”
“A magically binding contract,” Discord said, his voice filled with the disgust Scootaloo usually reserved for cockroaches and make-up.
Scootaloo leaned around the contract to look up at him. “You wrote a contract?”
“Oh, don’t be absurd. It was hard enough just signing it. Luckily, T—” Discord cut off with a gag, and then made a sound of displeasure. He pointed with his free paw to the bottom of the contract. Scootaloo saw his name, and to the right of it in the same writing, her own name. The space above and below the names were blurred, as though she was looking at them through a fogged window.
“One of the stipulations,” Discord said. “Someone refused to sign until we added it. Thought it would give h—” He scowled and tossed the contract aside. It bounced against the wall and vanished. “Stupid little...” he muttered under his breath, “The things I do for...” He breathed, and continued, “Someone wanted to keep what that person thought was an advantage. The contract keeps any of us from telling our champions about the other signers or their champions.” He paused, as though surprised he hadn’t been cut off.
“Telling their what now?” Scootaloo asked, trying to keep up.
“Huh? Oh, right. I can’t enter Libiris. I, along with the other eternal spirits, signed a legally binding contract so that most of us can’t set hoof inside. And then I switched every other book in Princess Twilight’s Library. That got me feeling a bit more like myself.” He chuckled at the memory.
“Oh,” Thistleroot said, breathing a sigh of relief. “So there’s nothing to worry about. He can’t go get the whatever it is.”
“Nope,” Discord said, vanishing and reappearing beside Scootaloo, draping an arm around her shoulders. “You’re going to get it for me.”
Scootaloo didn’t let herself react right away. She took a moment to breath and think. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Thistleroot asked. “Are you crazy?”
“I want to know what your after,” Scootaloo said. “I want to know why you all signed that contract and why it has my name on it. And then I want to know what you actually want.”
Discord arched an eyebrow and gave her his best innocent smile.
“If you wanted to manipulate somepony into bringing you something you couldn’t get yourself, I would be your last choice,” Scootaloo said. “So tell me the truth, or get out.”
Discord’s fake smile turned into a real one, and he pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. “They grow up so—”
“Discord!”
“Alright, alright, yeesh.” Discord rolled his eyes. “Inside Libiris, there is an artifact. The most powerful magic I know of.”
He snapped his talons, and the living room around them changed. The floor became mossy earth. The walls and ceiling became a natural cave. Between Scootaloo and Discord was a twisted column of roots. It was thicker near the floor and ceiling, and thinner at the middle. At its thinnest point, crystal showed beneath the roots, glowing with a pink so light it was almost white. It wasn’t a steady glow, it waxed and waned in a way that reminded Scootaloo vaguely of the beating of a heart.
“It’s called the Heart of Creation,” Discord said. “More than half a dozen ancient spirits are after it, and whoever gets it will rule the world.”
“Huh,” Thistleroot said, “and I was worried it would be something important.”
Scootaloo rolled her eyes and bumped him with a wing. “Okay. What’s it do?”
“Well, what does it sound like?” Discord asked. He snapped again and the living room returned to its original appearance. “It’s creation magic. It makes things.”
“And that’s supposed to be powerful enough to rule the world?” Scootaloo asked, raising an eyebrow. “I was expecting, I don’t know, lasers?”
“Maybe it can create lasers?” Thistleroot suggested.
“Hmm, well, I suppose it could,” Discord said, thoughtfully. “I’ve never actually seen it do that, but it’s not impossible.”
“Well, what have you seen it make?” Scootaloo asked.
“Plants, rocks, hamsters, that kind of thing,” Discord said with an exaggerated yawn. “Now that you mention it, I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen it make anything all that impressive. Not firsthand, at least.”
Scootaloo sighed. “This is kind of disappointing.”
“I mean, it made me, too, but I didn’t actually see that,” Discord said, voice still bored. “I was a little busy coming into existence at the time.”
Scootaloo tilted her head back, mouth falling open.
“Yeah,” Thistleroot said, “I could see how that would... wait, what?”
“What?” Discord asked. “Oh, was that less disappointing?” He examined his paw as though checking for dirt under the claws. “A little more impressive than a couple of laser beams, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Something made you?” Scootaloo asked. “Huh. I sort of assumed you just started existing one day.”
“Were all of the ancient spirits made?” Thistleroot asked.
Discord nodded. “So, I’m sure you can see exactly how important this is. The Heart of Creation was entrusted to the Archive and hidden inside Libiris shortly before the war between us eternal spirits began. We have agreed to stay out, so each of us is choosing a mortal creature to enter and search for it instead, and naturally, having learned the valuable lessons about how magic is friendship and whatnot, I chose my dear friend Scootaloo.”
“But, why?” Scootaloo asked. “Why would any of you agree to this? Why agree to go through normal ponies instead of just going in and finding it yourselves?”
“What do you think would happen if I started fighting the other spirits again?” Discord asked.
“You’d win?” Scootaloo guessed. “You beat them all before.”
“Exactly!” Discord said. “And they all remember it. I wouldn’t just be fighting Nocturne or L— or one of the others. They’d all team up and make sure I was out of the picture immediately. So I arranged this little game instead, and now all of them feel like they might actually have a chance.”
Scootaloo frowned. “But...” She shook her head. “Discord, I’m not going to just hand over something like that to you.”
“Oh?” Discord said, drawing the word out. “But I thought we were friends now.”
“We are,” Scootaloo said, “but that doesn’t mean I want you ruling the world. No offense. I wouldn’t want Thistleroot ruling the world either.”
“What, why not?” Thistleroot asked.
“Well, don’t I look like a fool?” Discord said, putting his paw against his chest and looking away. “Oh well, I guess my plans for world domination have failed once again. Of course, I imagine you will look for the Heart anyway? After all, you wouldn’t want it falling into the hooves of spirits that are even worse than I am, would you?”
“Well, no, I guess not,” Scootaloo said, glancing at Thistleroot. He returned her worried look.
“Well, then I suppose I’ll just have to trust my good friend to do the right thing,” Discord said. “Now then, is there anything else you want to know?”
*****
“So you want me to find this heart?” Mimic asked. “And if I don’t, someone even worse than your or Discord could get it and take over Equestria?”
Nocturne nodded.
“And out of everyone you could think of, you picked me? A changeling that already tried to keep you from taking over Equestria? Why not Chrysalis? Or Rosalia?”
“Chrysalis is busy helping me rebuild what has degraded in the centuries I spent locked away,” Nocturne said. “Even if she was not, I am sure some would argue that she does not fit the description of a ‘mortal’ champion. As for Rosalia, she has not yet earned back the trust I had once given her.”
“Then why not one of the overseers? Or a soldier? Or a windigo? Even if I wanted to let you take over Equestria, my friends would probably try to stop me from helping you.”
Nocturne was silent. Mimic waited, and after several seconds, Nocturne said, “There are some things we are forbidden from discussing with mortals. Would you care to hear what they are?”
Mimic arched an eyebrow at the change of subject, and then sighed. “Sure, why not?”
“We are free to discuss the nature of Libiris and the Archive, as the Archive did not sign the contract. Likewise, we are free to tell our champions of the Heart of Creation. We can not speak to any mortal about those who signed the contract, unless those mortals already know of the spirit. It would be infuriating to be unable to speak to you of Discord, after all. Likewise, we may not speak of the other champions, unless you already know who they are, and which spirit they are the champion of. Your friend Thistleroot likely knows these rules by now as well.”
Mimic thought about that statement for a second. “Scootaloo is Discord’s champion.”
“She is,” Nocturne said, “and now that you know that, I am free to speak of her.”
“That was easy,” Mimic said. “They probably know that you picked me by now.”
“Almost certainly not,” Nocturne said. “Discord is used to doing as he pleases. This contract may have been his idea, but I believe he will find having his paws tied...”
*****
“Two words, sounds like penguin?” Thistleroot asked as Discord flew across the room, transforming into different animals with frequent puffs of smoke. He turned back into himself with a grumble.
“Birds?” Scootaloo guessed. “One of the champions is a griffon! One of the spirits is a griffon! A griffon spirit that created griffons!”
“Oh, for goodness sake, it’s not that complicated. Mmmmeeehhh... Nooccccccct....” He snapped his talons and the contract once again appeared before him just to be thrown against the wall in a fit of frustration.
*****
“...troublesome.”
Mimic frowned. “Well, they’ll figure it out. And even if they don’t, I’m going to tell them.”
“I know,” Nocturne said. “I had no doubt that you would. It was this magic of friendship that I was unable to overcome last year. It is why I wanted you to be my champion. That, and no other changeling has ever so openly defied me. You have fire.”
She looked down at Mimic, thoughtful. “Though it seems that fire is tempered by something else. You are uncertain. Afraid.”
Mimic considered denying it, but she knew it would be pointless. “Of course I’m afraid. I saw you destroy an entire city. While I was in it.”
“Not of me,” Nocturne said, and Mimic shuddered, wishing she could get out from under Nocturne’s scrutiny. She turned and started walking away.
“Fear is nothing to be ashamed of,” Nocturne said. “It is one of your best tools for survival.” She followed several steps behind Mimic and the smaller changeling stopped. “Though I wonder. You seem more afraid today than when we last met.”
“What do you know?” Mimic snapped. After a moment, she sighed. “I’m going to tell them everything, and Scootaloo is Discord’s champion. Do you really think we’ll give either of you this heart?”
“No,” Nocturne said.
Mimic looked back at her in surprise.
“Mimic, what do you see when you look at me?”
Mimic swallowed. “Uh, a pegasus that’s way too tall?”
Nocturne gave her an unamused look.
“I see the first queen. The changeling that destroyed Canterlot and almost killed all of my friends.” Nocturne was silent, and Mimic continued, hesitantly. “You’re the one who made Chrysalis, Rosalia, and Lirian. You’re... I don’t know! You’re really powerful. You’re a queen and some kind of spirit.”
“Why did you leave the hives?” Nocturne asked. “Before you considered any ponies your friends.”
“My brother had been hurt,” Mimic said. “He attacked Scootaloo and she broke his horn. I was helping her get home because she promised she could get Princess Celestia to keep him safe.”
“Why? Why sacrifice your own safety for his?”
“He’s my family,” Mimic said.
“And why should that matter?”
“Because... I don’t know. It just does,” Mimic said. “I told you once that the only ones who had ever cared about me were my friends, but that wasn’t entirely true. My family cared about me, and I cared about them. It was different than the way my friends care about me, but it was something.”
Nocturne nodded. “Love is a resource to be consumed. That is the belief of many changelings. Over time, they have come to see the love ponies feel for each other and the fondness that prompts changelings to pair with another as intrinsically different. It’s not, but believing something can affect our actions. Reasoning can alter our emotions, to an extent.
“But there is one thing that remained. An ingrained behavior that almost all intelligent species have. In this case, in regards to their young.”
“Instinct,” Mimic said, understanding what Nocturne was getting at. “You’re the spirit of instinct.”
Nocturne nodded. “Survive,” she said, the word was an almost physical presence in the air. “Fight. Flee.” Her voice softened. “Learn. Play. Breed. Protect what is yours. No matter how much changelings evolved over time, the most basic instincts remained. For parents, protect the offspring. For children, your parents will keep you safe.
“I have a family,” Nocturne said. “Not just the changeling queens, who I created and call my daughters. Discord. Cinder. The Archive. Others. We were not born as other creatures are. We are not brothers or sisters, but we are the only creatures that can truly understand each other. We are the only ones who have lived through the millennia. We have known each other since before ponies, changelings, or dragons existed.
“And then Cinder died and my family tore itself apart in a mad war for power. I was locked away for a thousand years, and in that time one of my daughters killed another. Protect what is yours. No, Mimic, I do not think you will give me the Heart of Creation. But you will find it, and you and your friends will keep it from hurting my family again.
“You will do this,” Nocturne said, and Mimic could hear the certainty in her voice. “Because you understand. Because you are afraid.”
Mimic hissed and glared at the queen.
“You have a family again,” Nocturne said. “And you are afraid of losing them. You grow more fearful by the second, knowing what is at stake.”
Mimic tried to keep the glare on her face, tried to meet the changeling queen’s gaze, but she couldn’t. Nocturne was right. If something happened to Scootaloo or Thistleroot while they were searching for the heart without her... or if another spirit got it and something happened to Sweetie Belle, or Apple Bloom, or Spike?
“Protect what is yours,” Nocturne said again. “Will you go with your friends to search for the Heart of Creation?”
It only took a moment for Mimic to decide. “Yes.”
“I am glad,” Nocturne said. “There is more, now that you have accepted. Advice. The contract prevents me from telling you what you may face, but likewise it protects you. There are some who might wish to do you harm, but can not. Their champions will not be restricted in the same way, but they will not know who you are. For the time being, anonymity is your best defense. You are a changeling, after all. Hunt unseen.”
Mimic nodded.
Nocturne paused, and then straightened, staring down at Mimic with an imperious look. “I will return to the changelings tonight. There is little I can do here, and much still to be done with Chrysalis. You, Mimic, will remain here to act as my champion. There is one last thing I can offer you.”
Mimic frowned, thrown by the sudden shift in Nocturne’s demeanor. “What?”
*****
“One of the champions is an alternate universe version of Gilda bent on world conquest?” Scootaloo guessed. Discord buried his face in his paws long enough for her to throw a grin at Thistleroot. He fought back a chuckle and wondered how long it would take Discord to catch on.
“What? It was a reasonable guess,” Scootaloo said.
Thistleroot frowned and looked back toward the door. “I’m gonna go check on Mimic. She should have been back by now.”
Discord’s head snapped up and he began energetically pointing to Thistleroot.
“Thistleroot’s a champion?” Scootaloo guessed. “Thistleroot’s a griffon?”
Thistleroot let himself chuckle once he closed the door behind him. The sun had finished setting while they were inside. Nopony seemed to be out at the moment, and he couldn’t see Nocturne or Mimic. He started down the road away from the town center.
Less than a minute later he heard Mimic’s voice.
“Forget it!”
He paused at the sound of the shout, and then began walking toward it, quietly. The buildings in this part of town were openly and unevenly spaced, as there weren’t enough ponies to fill the available area. Nocturne and Mimic had moved toward a nearby cluster of trees between the two closest houses. Thistleroot could just make out their outlines in the dim moonlight.
Mimic was leaning back, as though she’d just drawn away from the queen.
“Are you sure?” Nocturne said, voice even, unbothered by Mimic’s shout.
“I’m sure,” Mimic said, anger giving her voice a hard edge.
“Odd,” Nocturne mused. “I thought with the fear of losing your life or your friends, your answer would be obvious. You continue to surprise me, Mimic, though the surprises are not always pleasant. Your choice is a poor one. You would stand a better chance with my help.” She paused, pondering one thought or another. “Rosalia thinks me a fool, though of course she wouldn’t say it. She believes there are many other changelings that would have made a better choice. She thinks your survival thus far was a fluke, that the magic of friendship is not for us.”
“She’s probably right,” Mimic growled.
Nocturne smiled. “Perhaps, and yet, my instincts still tell me that I’ve made the right choice.” A moment passed, and then she turned and began to walk away. “Do not disappoint me, child. There is too much at stake. And tell your friend to stop hiding. He’s not good at it.”
Mimic straightened and began to look around. Her eyes met Thistleroot’s and he held up a hoof. “Uh, hi.”
“Send a message through Discord, should something happen that I need to know of,” Nocturne said, and then she was gone.
Mimic sighed. “You were watching?”
“I only heard after the ‘forget it’. I got worried. You said you’d be right back.”
Mimic seemed to accept that and started walking past Thistleroot, back toward the house.
“So, uh, what was that about? If it’s okay to ask.”
“Nothing,” Mimic said immediately. She sighed again a second later. “Discord told you about this heart thing, right?”
“Yeah,” Thistleroot said. “Nocturne picked you as her champion?”
Mimic nodded. “I told her I wasn’t going to do it for her, but she seemed fine with that. She just wants to be sure no one else gets the heart.”
“So, what was the shouting at the end about?” Thistleroot asked.
Mimic hesitated, and then said, “She wanted a way for me to message her, so I wouldn’t have to go through Discord. Like how she stopped the attack on Canterlot last year.”
“Oh,” Thistleroot said. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”
Mimic shook her head. “It’s not just a spell she can teach me. She would have to use magic to change me, and I don’t want that. I don’t trust her, and I don’t know what else she might do while she was at it.”
Thistleroot shuddered. “Yeah, I see your point. I guess even when she’s trying to be on our side, she’s still... whatever she is.”
They got back to the house and Thistleroot moved to let them inside. “Thanks,” Mimic said before he could open the door.
“Huh? For what?” Thistleroot asked, turning back to her. She was standing on the steps to the porch, looking pointedly away from him.
“For coming to find me. I mean, not that there’s anything you could have done if Nocturne had gone evil again, but thanks.”
“Your welcome.” Thistleroot chuckled, and then blinked. “Huh, when you put it that way...” Silence fell between them again, with Mimic still looking away. “Uh, was there something else?”
A few more seconds passed. “No.”
Thistleroot shrugged and opened the door. “I’m back with Mimic, Nocturne’s champion!”
“Rise and shine everypony, we’re burning daylight!” A pair of heavy knocks rocked the bedroom door.
“Wuuh?” Thistleroot articulated, head snapping up from the pillow. He blinked against the morning light shining in from the window and stifled a yawn. “Whassamatter?”
More knocks came from the hallway, but not on his door. The knocking was on the door across the hall, belonging to Scootaloo and Mimic. Rare Breed’s voice called out again, “We’ve got a lot to be doing today.”
“Oh,” Thistleroot grumbled, leaning back against his pillow. “Oh, that poor doomed fool.”
*****
Thistleroot ventured into the living room a quarter of an hour later, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
Rare Breed sat on the pink couch, not daring meet his eye. Scootaloo gave Thistleroot a sleepy wave from beside the couch. Mimic was rummaging around in the kitchen, and Triplicate was reading over his clipboard, a quill and inkpot floating nearby.
“Rare Breed made a good point this morning,” Scootaloo said. “We should fix this place up a bit, since we're going to be staying here for a few days at least.” Rare Breed opened his mouth, but cut short when Scootaloo snapped a look at him. “Triplicate is splitting up errands. We’re going to do some shopping, cleaning, and decorating today.”
Thistleroot arched an eyebrow at that. “Should we? Aren’t we kind of doing, you know, other stuff?”
Scootaloo turned and made for the kitchen. Thistleroot threw a smile at Rare Breed, who managed a fearful swallow and nod, and then followed Scootaloo. She spoke in a low voice when they were out of earshot of the two in the living room. “You heard the Archive. Libiris is huge. They haven’t even found the bottom. It could take weeks to find what we’re looking for, and we need to eat in the meantime.”
“I guess.”
Mimic closed the oven door and reached up to turn the knob at the top. “This old thing works, at least.”
“Miss Scootaloo?” Triplicate called from the living room.
“Yeah?” Scootaloo asked, turning and stepping around the half-wall that separated the two rooms. Thistleroot and Mimic moved to join her.
“I’m done. If we split up into two groups, one group can handle the groceries and the other can handle the various cookware and necessities to make this house more livable. I’ve made a list for each, maximizing the efficiency of the stipend granted to us for this research project, taking into account each of our dietary needs and—”
“Okay, great. We’ll take groceries, I guess?”
Triplicate wordlessly floated one of the lists toward them and Thistleroot grabbed it with his magic.
“Gathering food for everypony,” Thistleroot said, glancing at Mimic with a dry hint of amusement in his voice. “You sure have come a long way.”
She rolled her eyes and lead the way out the door.
*****
“I’ve got to hand it to Triplicate,” Thistleroot said. “He’s thorough. He organized the grocery list into categories and labeled each item with recipes we can use them for. He even estimated the prices in the margin.”
Mimic rolled her eyes. How anyone could spend so much time on something so pointless was beyond her.
The shopping took the better part of the morning, and once they were done they stopped for lunch at a little sandwich shop just off the town center. The bulk of the groceries had been dry foods and grains. Greenhaven Grotto wasn’t a farming town, so fresh produce was a bit more expensive. They’d picked up some of the cheaper options, carrots and celery mostly, and Thistleroot had gotten seeds for some of the more quick to grow autumn vegetables.
“We’re a little under the estimate,” Thistleroot said as they walked down the street after lunch, each balancing a large paper grocery sack on their back. “Huh, he even made a note for that. He says we should buy something to spruce up the house if we have enough extra.”
“What about a potted plant?” Mimic suggested.
Thistleroot grinned. “I’d like that. I wonder if there’s a flower shop around here.”
Mimic gave herself a small, satisfied smile.
Asking around lead them to a little shop near the south end of town. A cute little cottage surrounded by a gated garden stood with it’s door open and a small ‘open’ sign. No other signs marked it as a business.
Thistleroot tested the gate, found it unlocked, and led the way forward. The path leading up to the cottage was outlined by mulch and flanked with shrubs, each sporting a variety of colorful flowers. On one side of the path, bright flowers were artfully arranged into whimsical curves. On the other side, darker plants surrounded a natural looking stone water feature.
Taller plants stood immediately outside and inside the door, like natural sentinels guarding the entrance.
Inside was a cozy room. Various larger plants took up the middle space, and two walls had shelves filled with smaller potted flowers.
The wall across from the front had two closed doors and a third one that was ajar. Mimic could just make out the corner of a bag of potting soil inside. The wall to their right had a long counter with a bell and a cash register. New gardening tools lined the wall behind the counter.
They set their groceries aside and Thistleroot walked up to ring the bell.
“Just a moment,” a soft voice called from behind the open door. The was a thump, some rustling, and the door opened further.
Thistleroot smiled and waved as a pony stepped out to meet them. “Afternoon. We were just, uh, I mean... uh, hi.”
Mimic tilted her head at Thistleroot’s sudden hesitation and looked back toward the pony that had just walked in. She was a unicorn, maybe a little older than them, and a fair bit taller than Mimic or Scootaloo. She even had Thistleroot beat by an inch or so. She had a glossy white coat that might have had a touch of silver in the right light. She had her deep forest green mane tied up in a messy bun and adorned with a white, six petal flower. Her eyes were the bright yellow of sunflowers, and she had a smear of soil across one cheek.
“Uh, we were uh,” Thistleroot swallowed loudly and gestured toward the middle of the room.
“Looking for something?” the unicorn prompted with a grin.
“Yes, that. We are looking for something. Uh, right, girls?” Thistleroot turned back toward Mimic and Scootaloo and gave a vague wave.
Mimic gave him a confused look, but Scootaloo chuckled and stepped forward. “We just moved here and we wanted to brighten our new place up a bit.”
“Certainly, and welcome to Greenhaven Grotto. Did you have anything specific in mind?”
“Did we?” Scootaloo asked, turning back to Thistleroot.
“Nothing specific. An indoor flowering floor plant. The room has decent sunlight in the morning. Preferably something that won’t mind a missed day of watering here or there, while we get things situated.”
The unicorn nodded thoughtfully and moved further into the room, looking at the taller plants near the center. Mimic caught sight of her cutie mark just before she moved behind them, a small brown seed with a sprig of green sprouting from the top. “Hmm, maybe a bush lily? I also have a flowering maple that needs to come inside for the winter soon.”
“Flowering maple would work. What do you two think?”
“I have no idea,” Scootaloo said. “You’re the plant expert.”
The unicorn poked her head back around the plants. “Oh?”
“Well,” Thistleroot said, waving a hoof. “I dabble.”
Scootaloo chuckled again. “Quit being modest. He’s been recognized for it by Princess Celestia herself.”
“Really?” the unicorn asked, eyes sparkling with interest.
“Uh, sort of,” Thistleroot said. He chuckled and then fell silent for a long moment. “Uh?”
“Oh, right! The plant.” The unicorn giggled and circled around the middle toward the front door. “Let me just grab that for you and I’ll ring you up.”
Scootaloo waited until she’d gone through the door before turning and giving Thistleroot a playful poke. “Come on, what was that?”
“What was what?”
“I set that up on a silver platter for you. The least you could do is take a swing.”
“A swing at what?” Mimic asked.
“Nothing,” Thistleroot said. “Come on, we don’t even know her name.”
“So ask it. Come on, she’s a unicorn, you’re a unicorn. She likes plants, you like plants. Don’t pretend you’re not interested, I saw the way you froze up when she walked in.” Thistleroot gave a noncommittal grunt and Scootaloo turned toward Mimic. “Mimic, help me out here.”
“With what?”
“He should ask her out, shouldn’t he?”
“He should what?” Mimic asked, taking a half step back.
“Come on, she’s pretty. You’re new in town. You—” Scootaloo’s answer cut off as hoofsteps approached the entrance. The unicorn reappeared, horn glowing white. A heavy ceramic pot floated behind her. A tall green shrub with orange-ish red flowers grew from it.
“That’ll be perfect,” Thistleroot said.
“Yeah. Good call,” Scootaloo said.
“Great,” the unicorn said, setting the plant down and moving around to the other side of the counter. Scootaloo reached into the paper sack she’d set aside, grabbed the little sack of bits they’d brought, and passed it to Thistleroot. He sighed, took them with his magic, and sidled up to the counter as the unicorn rang up their purchase.
“So, uh, do you have a name?”
“Of course I do. Don’t you?” Thistleroot blinked and she giggled again. “Sorry. I’m Dawn Flower.”
“Right. Pretty name. Uh, I’m Thistleroot. This is Scootaloo and Mimic.”
Scootaloo gave a friendly wave. Mimic looked between the three of them with a scowl.
“Nice to meet you,” she answered. Thistleroot swallowed, nodded, and then put the bits on the counter. Dawn Flower counted them and then pushed several back with a wink. “New customer discount.”
“Oh. Uh, thanks.” A moment passed. “Yeah nice meeting you see you again thanks bye.” Thistleroot backed away as he spoke, lifting the potted plant in his magic and vanishing through the door.
Scootaloo gave a slow sigh and an apologetic smile toward Dawn Flower. The unicorn smiled back. “You three said you were new in town?” Scootaloo nodded. “Well, if you don’t have any other plans, I’m meeting some friends for dinner tonight. I know it’s rough not knowing anypony. Do you want to join us?”
“Actually, we—” Mimic started.
“Sure!” Scootaloo said at the same time.
“...will, I guess,” Mimic finished, frowning.
“Great,” Dawn Flower said. “We’re meeting at a little diner on Orchard Street at seven. You can’t miss it.”
“Alright,” Scootaloo said. “Thanks again.”
“Uh-huh!”
Mimic followed Scootaloo out the door and looked around. Thistleroot was standing a few hundred feet off, trying to look nonchalant in the middle of the road.
“Don’t you think we have better things to be doing?” Mimic asked. “We haven’t even gone back to Libiris today.”
“I didn’t think we were going back today,” Scootaloo said. “It’s like an hour there and another hour back, and I still don’t want to be out in the forest when it gets dark. We’ll go early tomorrow and then we’ll actually have time to start figuring things out.”
She was right, Mimic thought. With the days starting to get shorter, they’d only be able to stay in Libiris for an hour or two if they left now. “We wasted the whole day with this shopping trip.”
“I don’t think we wasted it. We do have to eat.”
Mimic grumbled. “Fine, maybe, but I don’t think we need to be meeting too many new ponies. There are going to be other champions around. We have to be careful.”
“What, you think Dawn Flower is one of them?” Scootaloo chuckled. Mimic scowled and Scootaloo’s smile faltered. “You really don’t like her, do you?” Mimic shook her head. Scootaloo chuckled again. “You’re kind of weird sometimes.”
“So are you,” Mimic said.
Scootaloo shrugged. “Thistleroot, good to see you waited for us. I thought you’d be so excited to get the plant home that you’d run all the way there.”
“Yeah, well,” Thistleroot made another vague gesture with his hoof and started walking again, the plant floating beside him.
“By the way, we’re meeting Dawn Flower and her friends for dinner tonight.”
“Oh, come on!”
“As a group,” Scootaloo said, laughing. “To meet ponies, since we’re new in town. To make new friends.” As she spoke she adjusted the friendship necklace she wore, catching the sunlight.
“I liked you better as a terrorist,” Thistleroot grumbled.
*****
“The Two-Bit Diner. Huh, with a name like that, I’m surprised they’re still in business,” Scootaloo mused.
“Yeah, shocking they haven’t been crowded out by all of the other diners,” Thistleroot said, sweeping a leg out toward the empty expanse of grass across the street.
Scootaloo chuckled and made her way toward the front, pausing to read a weathered poster advertising the diner’s special, a short stack of pancakes and a cup of coffee for just two bits. She pushed her way through the doors and looked around.
Dawn Flower waved from one of the nearby booths, and they went to join her.
“I’m glad you took me up on this,” Dawn Flower said as they sat down.
“Like you said, it’s rough not knowing anypony,” Scootaloo said.
“So, what brings you to Greenhaven Grotto anyway? Can’t say we get new ponies that often.”
Scootaloo looked over to Thistleroot, and then gave him a nudge when he didn’t answer.
“Plants,” he said. “Uh, work. Plant work. Researching plants. For Princess Plant, er, Princess Celestia.”
“Right, you said something about that earlier. So you three actually know the princess?” Dawn Flower leaned in, clearly interested, and then looked up and behind them. “Hold that thought. Over here girls!”
Scootaloo turned with Thistleroot and Mimic to look at the two new ponies approaching.
“I invited some other ponies. They’re new in town. This is Scootaloo, Thistleroot, and Mimic. Everypony, these are my friends, Ivory Quill and Star Charmer.”
“Everypony, these are my friends, Ivory Quill and Star Charmer,” Dawn Flower said somewhere in the background. The words were hardly more than white noise. Thistleroot’s gaze was locked with the unicorn that had just entered the diner. The white-maned, blue-coated mare had frozen at the sight of him and Scootaloo.
“Nice to meet you.” More background noise. Thistleroot’s mind flipped into hyperdrive, constructing a scene in which Star Charmer rallied the ponies in the diner against them in revenge for what had happened the year before. His imagination was just getting to the point where they were tied to stakes outside with firewood piled beneath them before the voice spoke again. “Hey, Star, you okay?”
“Yeah,” Star Charmer said, shaking her head quickly, as though to clear it.
“We should go,” Scootaloo said, pushing away from the table. Go. Leave. That was a good idea. Thistleroot could get behind that. He stood.
“No, it’s okay,” Star Charmer said, raising a hoof. “Sorry, you just caught me by surprise, but I heard you three were back in town. I was hoping for a chance to talk.”
“Do you know them?” Dawn Flower asked.
“Wait a minute,” the third pony, Ivory Quill said. Thistleroot’s attention finally shifted to her for the first time. She was a light tan earth pony, with a short, neat ivory mane and tail. She had a quill and inkpot as a cutie mark. “Star, are these the ponies from last year?”
Thistleroot winced and scanned the diner. There was a cook at the grill and another mare behind the cash register. There was only one other patron, a dark brown earth pony with a silver, slicked back mane engrossed in the evening paper. None of them had taken notice of them yet, let alone begun grabbing torches or sharpening pitchforks.
“Yeah,” Star Charmer said. “These are them.”
“Oh,” Dawn Flower said slowly. “I didn’t realize. I shouldn’t have—” she cut off with another gesture from Star Charmer.
“Can we just have a minute to talk?” Star Charmer asked, looking from her friends to Scootaloo. “Outside, maybe?”
Scootaloo threw a hesitant glance at Thistleroot and Mimic before answering, “Sure.”
“Woah, woah, you want to talk to them alone? By yourself?” Ivory Quill asked.
“That’s what alone means, yeah. We’ll be right outside,” Star Charmer said, before turning and making for the door. Scootaloo followed, and Thistleroot was right behind her. Ivory Quill threw them a suspicious look as they passed.
“So, uh, hi again,” Scootaloo said when they were outside.
“Hi,” Star Charmer said, uneasily. A few seconds passed. Thistleroot fidgeted and glanced back at the diner. Ivory Quill and Dawn Flower were watching, leaning over one of the diner tables, muzzles pressed up against the nearest window. The earth pony was looking up from his newspaper with an arched eyebrow, but after a moment shrugged and continued reading.
“You were hoping for a chance to talk?” Scootaloo asked.
Star Charmer nodded. “Dad went to Canterlot shortly after you three came here. Once we heard that the princesses were back. And he...” She glanced away. “Is it true? The Elements of Harmony were destroyed?”
“It’s true,” Scootaloo answered.
Star Charmer nodded. “I don’t know why I asked. I guess I just had to hear it for myself.”
“We’re sorry,” Scootaloo said. “About everything that happened.”
Star Charmer shook her head. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Thistleroot blinked, momentarily distracted from planning out his last words. “Huh?”
Star Charmer’s attention switched to him and he mentally cringed at drawing attention to himself. “What?”
Thistleroot swallowed, throat dry. “I thought you’d, you know, be angry at us?”
Star Charmer shook her head. “I’m not stupid. I know what happened wasn’t your fault. You were just trying to get back what we stole. To save the world. I mean, that was kind of a big deal.”
That was true, Thistleroot thought. In the end, Star Charmer had even sided with them, helping them escape with the fragment of harmony. He tried to relax just a bit.
“And you all succeeded, didn’t you?” Star Charmer continued. “The princesses were freed and no evil monsters have attacked the town.”
“I guess.”
“How’s your dad’s wing?” Mimic asked.
“It’s okay,” Star Charmer said. “He was grounded for a couple months, but it healed cleanly. He was flying again before his trip to Canterlot.” Another few seconds passed and Star Charmer puffed up her cheeks, blowing in a frustrated expression. “This is really awkward.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” Scootaloo said with a small laugh. Mimic nodded.
“All I really wanted to say is, I don’t blame you guys for what happened. Everypony else at the center is a little, well, you know, but dad made sure they understand they’re not allowed to bother you, since you’re here for the princess. You don’t have to worry about them coming at you with torches and pitchforks or anything.”
Thistleroot gave a shaky laugh. “Like any of us would worry about that. That’s just silly.”
Star Charmer chuckled and shrugged. “Why don’t you three come back inside and eat? Before my friends break that window leaning in any further. You can meet Ivory properly.”
“Okay,” Scootaloo said, looking back to Mimic and Thistleroot for confirmation. They nodded.
“Okay,” Star Charmer echoed hesitantly before leading the way back into the Two-Bit Diner.
*****
The ponies moved back inside. The mares at the window moved to meet them at the door, and after a second set of introductions, they sat back down.
Law made a small effort of will backed by millennia of practice, and their words became audible to her, even from across the street. The conversation from there was trite. Pointless. Discord had chosen poorly, it seemed. Nocturne as well. To think their champions hadn’t returned to Libiris.
Not that Law was any closer than them, she thought with a bitter growl. Four spirits had now chosen champions. Trader, as usual, would remain a neutral party, and as expected had written himself loopholes in the contract to facilitate his own ends. Law had not objected, as they were only effective while he had no champion of his own, and she doubted many of the others had noticed them at all. With Trader out of it, that left only her and one other without champions. She had to choose soon. By morning, she decided. She would find a worthy pony before the sun rose.
There were some ponies she’d listened in on over the past day who might have had the principles that would make them worthy of her trust, but they were dim. There were some in the town, particularly in the large building at the center, who might have been clever enough to find the heart, but they could not be trusted.
A pair of ponies walked past her, not so much as casting her a sideways glance. She watched them go. A stallion and mare, too young to be adults, too old to be children. The mare was giving the stallion a coy look, and the stallion was oblivious.
She might have had disdain for the pair, she mused, had she cared enough to feel anything at all. They turned the corner and disappeared, not once noticing her, though she stood at the side of the road, making no effort to hide herself.
It was a simple aspect of her nature, and another slight effort of will. She was Law, the Eternal Spirit of Order. When she wished to go unnoticed, she simply willed herself to fit into the Order of the world. She was a natural part of everyday life. There was no more reason to take note of her than there was to take note of a particular tree in a forest, and no reason to remember her later.
Of course, such a trick did not work on everyone. The blue unicorn had noticed her, though he’d mistaken her for a lion. Likewise, a dark coated pegasus had done a double-take when she’d been looking in through a window at the research center. It was a good test, she thought as she watched the champions waste their evening. If a pony wasn’t observant enough to notice her, they wouldn’t make a good champion. Same, if a pony did notice her and ran in mindless fear.
Another pony crossed the path, oblivious to her presence. She watched him go, clueless and useless. It was going to be a long night.
*****
“And once the princesses were freed, they came up with a plan and defeated Nocturne,” Scootaloo said. It wasn’t exactly the truth, but Thistleroot was relieved that she’d downplayed their part in it. He didn’t want to answer questions about their use of the Elements of Harmony during the final battle, or their failure to use them again. She’d also skipped over their time inside Libiris, for obvious reasons. The last thing they needed was somepony at the SEA center connecting the Caagan sightings with Libiris and renewing their research into the building.
“Once she was defeated,” Scootaloo continued, “she and the changelings went west, way past this forest, and agreed to leave Equestria alone.”
“Not all of the changelings,” Ivory Quill said before leaning over to take a sip of her milkshake.
Thistleroot frowned and saw Mimic stiffen out of the corner of his eye. Star Charmer hadn’t mentioned her identity as a changeling, which Thistleroot had been thankful of, but it was possible she’d told them before.
“What do you mean?” Scootaloo asked.
“There’s still some around,” Dawn Flower said. “We’ve heard stories of hives of changelings around Equestria. There’s supposed to be one a bit North of here. Ponies in Vanhoover sometimes have problems with changelings out of Galloping Gorge, and there’s supposed to be a lot of them in the Rainbow Ridge just South of the Crystal Empire.”
“My dad travels for work a lot,” Ivory Quill said. “He just got back from Vanhoover a few months ago.”
“Independent hives,” Mimic said. “Sometimes changelings would set up far away from the main hives to extend the queen’s reach. Some of them refused to leave Equestria.”
“Well, most of them went with her,” Scootaloo said. “Everypony’s been working hard to rebuild Canterlot since then.”
“Wow,” Dawn Flower said. “That’s actually kind of incredible. The princesses sound so awesome.”
“Yeah, they really are,” Scootaloo said. She noticed Ivory Quill giving her a hard look. “So, that’s what happened. Are we good?”
Ivory Quill watched her for another second before answering. “I guess. If Star Charmer doesn’t have a problem with you.” Her suspicious look didn’t ease, and Dawn Flower rolled her eyes.
“What about you two?” Thistleroot asked. “We’ve just been sitting here talking about us.”
Ivory Quill’s gaze moved to him, and he had to fight the urge to duck under the table. Dawn Flower smiled and answered. “Well, you already know I have my shop. I also take care of gardens for a few older ponies that can’t manage it that well anymore. And when I’m not doing that, I’m keeping these two out of trouble.”
Star Charmer rolled her eyes at that and nudged Dawn Flower.
Everypony turned to Ivory Quill, who pointedly took another sip of her milkshake.
Dawn Flower waved her hoof toward Ivory Quill. “Ivory’s actually really nice, once you get to know her, I promise. And she’s really smart. She’s actually starting school in Manehattan next year.”
“Oh?” Scootaloo asked. “What are you studying?”
“Law,” Ivory Quill said. “Same as my dad. Eventually I want to get into politics.”
*****
Law’s ears pricked up at the sound of her name, her wandering attention brought back to the conversation, but after a few seconds she realized they weren’t talking about her. They were discussing the area of study once named after her.
One of them in particular spoke of a family history in the area of study. She seemed to have an interest, and she spoke with a certain confidence the others lacked. What was more, she seemed to have an inherent mistrust in Discord and Nocturne’s champions.
Law watched, and waited. The conversation moved on from the subject quickly, on to less interesting topics. The champions’ reasons for visiting Greenhaven Grotto. They lied, naturally, or rather they omitted the newer details, explaining instead their original goal of studying local wildlife.
The conversation soon came to an end. Goodbyes were said, and the ponies made their way outside. Law hid herself properly and waited. The champions left with the blue unicorn, while the three mares walked toward the center of town. After several minutes, they split again. The white unicorn turned and made her way toward a little cottage surrounded by flowers. A little while longer, the earth pony said a final goodbye and turned down another road. The other unicorn continued on toward the center of town.
Law followed the earth pony from a distance. Only once she was sure the unicorn would be out of earshot did Law move back onto the street, in clear view.
It took less time than she could have hoped for. Whether by luck, or the habit of a young pony walking alone at night, the earth pony looked back over one shoulder and stopped, her gaze locked on Law.
Law smiled slowly and came to a stop about thirty feet back.
The pony shifted, half turning to get a better look at her, blinking slowly, as though trying to clear her vision. She moved her head, slowly, never taking her eyes off of Law, and opened one of the saddle bags at her side.
She was clearly scared, but the fear had not paralyzed her, nor had it caused her to mindlessly flee. The pony drew a little silver cylinder with a red cap from her saddlebag, and the way she held it as she started backing away told Law that it could only be some kind of weapon.
Law’s smile widened and she moved, clearing the space between them in a single leap. She landed directly in front of the pony a heartbeat later. She kept moving, faster than any mortal predator, and with a catlike grace circled around the pony. The pony bit down on the cylinder in surprise, and a harsh chemical sprayed through the air where Law had been.
The pony whipped her head around, but a swipe of one of Law’s enormous paws took the cylinder from her mouth. The pony stumbled back and turned, eyes darting left to right, still searching for an answer.
Law’s tail caught her across the chest, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to turn her back and pull her closer.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Law said, and she saw the pony’s eyes widen in surprise, likely because she could speak, more than what she said. “Calm yourself. I am not some wild animal, and I have no reason to harm you.”
The pony was still scared, still glancing around, but she heard Law. She still had enough of herself to think, to understand.
Keen golden eyes watched from above. One, two, three, four. And the earth pony would make five, if she accepted.
Five champions. Five little ponies with the future of the entire world on their shoulders.
Wings tilted. The treeline drew closer. The figured touched down and disappeared into the dark cover of the forest.
Shopping. Dinner with friends. None of the five had even considered going to Libiris today. That wouldn’t do. The figure grinned and turned back toward the town, just visible through the trees. He raised one limb. It was time to do what he did best, start some chaos.
No, he thought, pausing, the grin fading, his limb dropping a few inches. Chaos was already taken, wasn’t it? He’d need his own schtick. Something simple, but cool sounding. Something intimidating.
“Eh, whatever. Time to start some trouble,” he said, talons jerking upward. A hot point appeared in the darkness, glowing with an intense white light. The light traveled up the limb, and his talons became translucent, like luminescent glass.
Five points of light flickered into being in front of him. He felt a slight tug as the points of light began gathering mass. Leaves, rocks, dirt, and broken branches were pulled in, covering the lights and shifting. Within two or three minutes, five shapes stood before him, rough, four-legged beasts. Their eyes flared to life.
“Go,” the figure said, focusing his mind on the ponies he’d seen. “Make sure they understand. They don’t have time to be sitting around.”
The constructs turned and charged out of the trees toward the town. The figure laughed in exhilaration as he watched them go. “Them and their spirits. I’m coming for them!”
*****
“This seems simple enough,” Ivory Quill said.
Law smiled. It had been a good idea, letting the pony read the contract. It gave her something to do beyond simply listening. It had let the girl focus. Had given the more analytical part of her mind something to latch onto.
“No signatory that has chosen a mortal champion shall enter the building known as Libiris,” Ivory Quill read. “No signatory shall enter the building known as Libiris in search of the Heart of Creation. A bit redundant.” She continued reading silently for a few minutes.
“All signatories shall invest an allotment of their magic into protections to restrict the actions of any eternal spirit that has not signed this contract, and to act against any eternal spirit that has not signed this contract in the case of that eternal spirit attempting to...” she trailed off, reading silently before lowering the contract. “That’s why you signed? Because if you didn’t, everypony that did would be obligated to keep you out anyway?”
Law nodded. Her satisfaction in her newly found champion grew.
“And you want me to be your,” the girl looked back down at the contract, “mortal champion in this matter?”
“I do,” Law answered. “Do you accept?”
“Of course not,” Ivory Quill answered.
Law tilted her head.
“A magical sphinx jumped me in a dark alley and asked me to save the world,” the pony said, her voice remarkably even, given the situation.
“I suppose that would be quite a bit to wrap one’s head around,” Law said.
“It is. I’m not sure I believe any of it.”
Law shouldn’t have been surprised, she knew. She’d wanted a pony clever enough to get the job done, after all. She should have been ready for a reasonable level of skepticism.
“You wish to study law, do you not?” Law asked.
Ivory Quill frowned. “How did you know that?”
“I have been observing, looking for somepony that might be worthy of becoming my champion. I overheard you say as much tonight. You wish to study law and someday become a leader of ponies. Why?”
Ivory Quill looked at her uneasily, but answered. “It’s what my family does. My dad, mom, grandfather, and great-grandfather all studied law. I’m good at writing and understanding technical documents, so it makes sense.”
“Are those the only reasons?” Law asked.
Ivory Quill shrugged and glanced away. The faintest hint of pink touched her cheeks.
“By the way you spoke in the diner, and your disposition toward those you feel have wronged another, I would have guessed you were in part driven by a sense of justice. Perhaps even a desire to do some good in the world.”
Ivory Quill’s blush deepened and she said nothing.
“There are dark forces at work. Enemies of Equestria that have tried to unmake it before, and will try again. I can understand why you might not believe me without question, but I will ask that you find the truth for yourself before you refuse my request. Go to Libiris. Take a book, one you do not mind losing. You will find it unsealed and filled with answers.”
Ivory Quill looked down at the contract again, thoughtful. She didn’t see the creature emerge from the darkness with a pair of quick strides and leap toward her.
Law’s tail whipped around the pony and dragged her forward and down. The creature’s lunge missed her, but its front claws clipped her mane. She let out a surprised “oof” as she fell to the ground before Law.
The creature landed and staggered, trying to turn as its momentum carried it forward. Law quirked an eyebrow and used her tail to drag Ivory Quill further away, beside her front leg.
The pony had heard the impact of the creature’s landing and turned, seeing it for the first time. Her face paled and she pushed herself up. “What’s that?” she asked. Her voice was high, but once again she’d kept from flying into a blind panic. Her eyes went to the silver canister she’d tried to spray Law with before, still lying at the side of the road.
That was an excellent question, Law thought. The creature reminded her of a timberwolf at first. Its head was made of broken branches and leaves, but its body included mud and stone as well. Its eyes were twin pinpoints of white light.
It lunged again, clumsily closing the space between them. Law leapt away, scooping up Ivory Quill with one leg. Once again, the creature tried to turn toward her before it had landed, throwing itself off balance.
“I see,” Law said. She dumped the pony unceremoniously to the ground. “That simplifies things.”
The creature lunged again.
Law took a single stride forward and swiped a massive paw at it. The blow spiked the creature out of the air and into the dirt road. It tried to stand again, but Law kept her paw on it and pushed, crushing it.
Ivory Quill let out a startled gasp. Law turned to see her backing away, eyes wide.
“I thought...” the pony said, “your contract...”
It seemed she did have a limit when it came to shock and fear. Law took a step to the side, giving the girl a better view of the creature. Only sticks and mud, lit by the occasional flicker of magic, remained.
“It wasn’t a living creature,” Law said. “It was a construct.”
The pony’s eyes flicked down to the pile of debris. She didn’t visibly relax, but she did say in an almost inaudible voice, “oh.”
Law looked back down at the remains of the construct and frowned as a new question occurred to her. “Where did it come from?”
*****
“So, I’m thinking the spinach will go here. It grows fast, so we’ll have it for salads if we end up staying that long. I doubt we will, but you never know. Right about here I think we could do cucumbers and carrots. They take a little longer, but maybe the next ponies who live here will like a garden.”
Scootaloo nodded along, only half paying attention, which was fine. She was pretty sure Thistleroot was talking to himself anyway.
Running into Star Charmer out of the blue like that had been a nasty shock, but all things considered, she was kind of happy. It was out of the way, and things had gone better than she could have hoped. Even Thistleroot had calmed down, and now they had some friendly acquaintances in town.
If there were other spirits and other champions, getting to know ponies and finding out that somepony was acting peculiar would be important. And if Star Charmer, Dawn Flower, and Ivory Quill weren’t useful in that regard, well, they were still nice enough.
“Alright, it’s been a long day,” she said finally. “I’m gonna hit the hay.”
“‘Kay. I’ll probably be in in a minute. Just as soon as I figure out what I want in this corner. Ooh, maybe some radishes.”
Scootaloo chuckled at her friend’s enthusiasm and went back inside. The living room was quiet. Rare Breed and Triplicate had finished their own errands and turned in early. A small stack of books sat on the kitchen table, those that Triplicate had deemed unnecessary and to be donated to Libiris.
They would have to go back to Libiris tomorrow. Taking a day to get situated made sense, but the importance of what Discord had asked of them wasn’t lost on her.
Mimic had already crawled into her own bed, and was turned toward the wall. Scootaloo could just see the ear of her stuffed fox poking out from beneath one leg.
“You awake?”
“No.”
“Okay,” Scootaloo said with a chuckle before hopping into her bed and pulling the covers over her. It really had been a long day, but at least—
Thistleroot’s high pitched scream cut the thought off. She flinched and bounced out of the bed before she’d settled. Mimic jerked up as though she’d been on the verge of sleeping. They gave each other a wild look before bolting for the door.
Thistleroot was on his haunches, back against the house beside the porch by the time they made it outside. His wide eyes were fixed on a pair of monsters not three feet from him. The nearest sniffed at him, though Scootaloo wasn’t sure what it could possibly smell with a rock for a nose. The creatures turned and their eyes, twin pairs of glowing white light, met hers.
They charged her.
She hurled herself backwards and up. She saw Mimic appear in the doorway, eyes wide, and the changeling threw herself down the steps before the creatures reached her. Another voice, Rare Breed’s, asked from just inside the door, “What in the name of Equestria is going— oh sweet Celestia!”
The creatures followed her off the porch, smashing through the railing as though it weren’t there. She angled higher, pushing herself above the nearby rooftops. The creatures snapped at her hooves, but then fell back down, unable to reach.
She felt a moment of relief before they rounded on Mimic.
Mimic had landed at the base of the stairs and turned, body low in a crouch. She managed to jump away when the creatures made for her, snapping and clawing as she took to the air. She was fast, she could get away from them, but then they’d just look for another target. Mimic seemed to have the same thought. She kept low, letting the creatures chase her.
She wouldn’t be able to use her changeling magic without giving her true identity away, Scootaloo realized. “Get inside! We’ll handle this!”
Thistleroot shook his head, eyes blinking, and made for the door. Rare Breed fell back to let him in, and he slammed it shut.
“You’re clear, Mimic,” Scootaloo called, quieter this time.
The changeling swerved and lifted higher, out of the creatures’ reach. They came to a halt, teeth made of broken twigs barred up at her.
“What’s up with these guys?” Scootaloo asked, flying over to join her.
“No clue.” A curved horn appeared on her forehead in a flash of green.
The creatures stopped growling, and their heads bent. Their backs boiled and rolled, as did the ground beneath their hooves, and then wings made of mud sprouted from their backs. A moment later they charged again, into the air towards Scootaloo and Mimic.
“Oh, come on!” Scootaloo managed to shout before the heavy body of one of the creatures struck her. The creature forced her down several feet as they spun back together. Its paw scratched against her belly, tracing several hot lines of pain, and her stomach twisted in fear. She managed to kick off against it, gaining some ground and looking down at herself.
She drew a hoof against where it had scratched her in surprise. The creature’s claws didn’t seem to have managed to cut her hide. The creature charged again, and this time she rolled back as it did, catching it in the gut with her hind legs and launching him over her as she backflipped.
“Mimic, go for the wings!”
Mimic flew threw the air, managing to pull away from her own assailant and coming to a hover beside Scootaloo. “You think that will work? They’re way too heavy for their wings to do anything anyway.”
“Yeah, but then why bother making them?”
“Good point,” Mimic said as the creatures charged once again. Scootaloo dove, drawing their attention downward as Mimic attacked. She let loose a bolt of changeling fire, aiming just above the first creature. Its wings exploded in a wave of mud and fire, and it began to fall.
The creature continued swiping at Scootaloo even as it fell, even though it couldn’t have possibly reached her.
They’re not real, Scootaloo realized. A real animal would have shown at least some flicker of fear.
Scootaloo pulled out of the dive, wings flared to stop herself. She managed to land hard, but unharmed, and staggered to a stop beside the next house over.
The creature wasn’t as lucky. It hit the ground head first and exploded in a wave of fresh mud and broken sticks.
“Ha! Take that!” She called,sticking a tongue out at the whatever it was, adrenaline pumped by her racing heart making her giddy. She chuckled.
Something slammed into her side just as she remembered there had been two creatures. She rolled with the hit, landing on her hooves and leaping away, but her side hit against the house she’d landed next to almost immediately.
The creature lunged once again, and even as stupid and clumsy as they seemed to be, it had enough weight behind it to crush her. She ducked, hunched against the house, eyes wide as it closed in on her.
The creature bounced away six inches from her face.
She blinked.
The creature lunged and bounced away again. She looked up, and realized it had been trapped inside a large plastic sphere, like the kind a hamster would roll around in. Lounging atop that sphere was Discord.
“Sorry about keeping things to the last second,” Discord said in his typical, almost bored sounding voice. “I was trying to give you and your friends some privacy, so I didn’t notice this thing right away.”
Scootaloo sank against the side of the house and let out a breath. “Thanks.”
Discord waved his hand, as though to say “no big deal”. “Now, what do we have here?” He hopped up and with a wave of his arm the top of the giant hamster ball unscrewed.
Mimic touched down beside them. “Are you okay?”
Scootaloo nodded and then turned her attention back to Discord. The draconequus laid flat against the hamster ball and reached inside, trying to grab the creature. It growled and jumped up, jaw clamping on Discord outstretched talons. Discord stood, as though the bite was nothing, and simply grabbed his shoulder with his other paw and detached the arm.
The creature dangled from his detached arm, though Scootaloo could see it twitching, its mouth loosening and tightening, as though it were trying to let go.
“So, what do we have?” Discord asked thoughtfully, letting go of his arm. It stayed suspended it front of him and he reached his paw into the creature. The mud that made up most of its body began to slough off, and its eyes winked out. Its form melted around Discord’s arm, until only his clenched paw was left.
Discord opened his paw, and a glowing point of light floated above it. With a tilt of his head, his other arm reattached itself to his shoulder in a flash.
“What was that thing?” Scootaloo asked.
“Not sure,” Discord answered. “Some kind of construct. Somepony’s magical toy. A better question is, who made it?”
“Who?”
“No clue,” Discord answered. “It couldn’t have been anypony that signed the contract.” He gave it another few seconds of thought and snapped his talons. A collar appeared around the point of light, connected to a leash that wrapped around his arm. “Well, only one way to find out.” He paused, and then tossed something to Scootaloo.
She caught it. A simple metal whistle on a cord. “Just in case something else comes after you two.”
“Are you sure you don’t want us to come with you?” Scootaloo asked, but Discord was already gone, being pulled forward by the point of light.
*****
The light brought Discord North, toward the edge of Greenhaven Grotto. It stopped near the edge of the trees, bouncing around like a bloodhound looking for the trail.
“Discord!” a voice called out from behind him.
“Oh here we go,” he said, turning to see a large sphinx land a few dozen feet off.
“I should have known you would have something to do with this,” Law snarled at him. “Not five minutes after I choose my champion, you try to kill her.”
“Believe it or not, it wasn’t me,” Discord said.
“Of course. You just happen to be here, where the construct came from.”
“I am. I promise.” As he spoke, Discord crossed his heart with a talon and then mimed putting a cupcake in his eye. The gesture was lost on Law. “Look, my champion was attacked too. I’m trying to find out who did it, see?” He pointed at the light on its leash, which was currently standing beside a bush, showering it with sparks. “No, bad dog!” Discord yanked the leash, and the light bounced back toward him.
Law looked unconvinced.
“Look, just come with me. We can find whoever did this together, and then you’ll see it wasn’t me.”
“You want me to work with you? You expect me to trust you?”
“Would it help if I shook?”
“No, it wouldn’t. I think...” Law trailed off as Discord began vibrating in place. After several seconds, she sighed. “Just find whoever was behind this.”
“Ha, I knew that would work,” Discord said, grinning broadly at Law. “Partners then? Oh, it’s just like old times.”
Law sighed again, burying her face in one massive paw. Exactly like old times.
Law followed a few feet behind Discord, not willing to turn her back on him even with the protection of the contract. If there was a way to cheat, he would find it. That was just who he was. His ridiculous tracking spell led them North, past the treeline and into the forest.
“So, you finally found a champion?” Discord asked as he led the way. “How exciting. Who is it?”
Law arched an eyebrow. “If you really don’t already know, why would I tell you?”
“Why not?” Discord asked. “I could easily find out by checking the contract.”
Law didn’t answer and they traveled in silence for several minutes before Discord spoke again.
“You of course already know about my champion, Scootaloo.”
Law grunted in response, then added, “She spent the day in town. She’s not even trying. That’s what happens when you pick somepony because they’re convenient.” Discord just chuckled in response. “My champion is a mare from the town,” Law continued. Why not? He was right, he could find out easily enough on his own, and it didn’t sit well with her, letting DIscord be the more civil of them. “A law student.”
That got a full laugh out of Discord. “And I thought I was narcissistic.”
“I never asked ponies to call it that,” Law growled. “But she seems to have a good head on her shoulders. I assume that’s why you tried to get rid of her. Or someone else did,” she added before he could object. “You’re not the only one I wouldn’t put it past.”
The light began pulling hard against the leash, and DIscord held one arm up, the back of his paw facing her. She fell silent. They stepped around a fairly large trunk, and a figure came into view. It was smaller than either of them, maybe a little larger than the average pony, and dressed in a dark cloak. It was walking away from them.
Law focused, willing her eyes to sharpen and backing her will with a trickle of magic. The forest came into focus, but the limbs under the cloak remained shrouded in shadow. It was using magic to conceal itself. Nocturne, maybe?
The collar around the light snapped and it bounded after the figure. The figure turned as the light drew closer and cast the figure’s shadow on the trees ahead. The figure fell back a step as the light leapt, forelegs coming up to cover its face. The light hit one of the figures forelegs, sinking into it, and for a moment that one limb was illuminated beyond what the magical shadow could cover. Bird like talons made of glass glowed as the light was absorbed, and then the darkness rushed back in.
The figure lowered its forelegs, and another moment of silence passed.
The figure cursed loudly, its gravelly voice that of a young male. He turned to run.
Law was after him instantly, leaping into the air and focusing on her front paws. She hit the ground with a thunderous crack and the earth beneath her shattered. The ground the figure was running on heaved beneath him, and then split, sending him into a tumble. She pounced.
The figure managed to right himself and shot into the air on wings either disguised by darkness or else made of it. Law hit the ground where he’d been a moment before. Her gaze followed his movements in the dark, a task made easier by the steady stream of vulgar curses he was spewing as he gained altitude.
Law coiled to pounce again, but before she could he twisted in the air, his glass talons glowing with power. Static sparked between them as he gathered his power, and for a split second Law felt a twinge of doubt. Even she would be hard pressed to gather that much power so quickly.
“Catch!”
He swung his talons, putting his full body into the throw, and a bolt of searing heat arced toward her.
Law considered leaping over the spell, but even from here, she could feel the weight of the magic he’d poured into the blow. There was no telling how much damage it could do if she let it past her, toward the town. She roared, and her two front paws clamped over the bolt. The force of it drove her back, her hind legs tearing long furrows in the ground, but she managed to stop it.
“Discord!”
“I know, I know,” Discord said, sailing past her in pursuit of the figure.
The spell she’d caught twisted and pulsed against her paws, threatening to explode. She pushed in against it, teeth bared. Another roar rose in her chest, the sound of it splintering the bark of the closest trees.
The magic collapsed in on itself, the structure of the spell failing in the face of her might. She channeled the free magic into herself rather than letting it out into the air. Her legs burned with the strain, lights flashed behind her eyes, and she felt herself hurled back by the force. Her body snapped cleanly through the hundred-year-old tree behind her like nothing more sturdy than a matchstick.
The world spun around her in a wave of disjointed noise and motion, and finally she came to a stop.
*****
The detonation of the stranger’s magic reached Discord several seconds after he’d passed Law. After that, he couldn’t hear her in the forest behind him.
“Well, it looks like it’s just us, now,” he said conversationally.
“Yeah? Try to keep up, old timer!” The figure called back, twisting out of the way of a thick trunk.
Discord snapped his talons just before colliding with it and appeared unharmed on the other side. “Old timer?” He snapped again, this time appearing in front of the figure. “Now, just what is that supposed to mean?”
The figure slipped past Discord by inches, never slowing down. Discord sighed, snapped and teleported again, but to his surprise, the figure was already past him when he appeared.
“Huh, I guess we’ll do this the old fashioned way.”
It had been ages since Discord had really flown. He twisted through the forest like a snake, pushing himself as fast as he could without colliding with one of the trees, and occasionally using magic to close in on the figure.
And despite all of that, the figure managed to stay ahead of him. It flew at the same breakneck pace, skirting past trees and branches with inches, centimeters, and sometimes less to spare, all while avoiding Discord each time the draconequus teleported.
The figure’s magic may have been crude and clumsy, but it seemed flying came as easy to him as breathing. He might have even given Scootaloo a run for her money.
“Well, as fun as this has been, I think it’s about time we got some answers,” Discord said, straightening into a standing position as he flew after the figure. He raised his talons to snap again. The figure may have been fast, but he probably wasn’t prepared for a half mile wide jello mold appearing above him.
Discord never got the chance to snap. Something hit him in the gut, and his head whiplashed forward as his legs swept out from under him. His body wrapped twice around something thin and nearly invisible stretched between two trees. The breath was forced from his body, and had he been mortal, he might have actually been worried for a moment. As it was, the blow left him momentarily stunned. He lifted his head again, but the figure had vanished in the few seconds he’d been stopped.
“Well, that’s annoying.” Discord felt whatever had stopped him and found himself wrapped around an odd white rope. It was sticky to the touch. A series of clicking noises drew his attention upwards and he found himself facing a large set of fangs and eight dark eyes. Above them was a giant spider, easily twice as wide at the body as the average pony. Black hair covered its segmented body, and long legs held it aloft in an equally giant web.
The spider spoke. The voice that came from between its fangs was ugly and disjointed. “Disscord.”
“Good evening, Weaver. I hope you don’t mind me dropping in?”
The giant spider, Weaver, hissed in what Discord imagined was displeasure. “You maaake too much...” the spider faltered, as though the first four words took too much energy to say all at once. She lowered herself down so that her eyes were level with his. “Noissse. Scare away... predator. Scare away... preeeey.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Thisss web... useless. Caught only... one morsel.” As she spoke, she began snapping some of the lines of the web and wrapping them around one of his legs.
“Actually, I have better things to do than being eaten,” Discord said, snapping his talons and appearing floating in the air beside the web.
If she was disappointed at losing her dinner, Weaver didn’t show it. She moved higher into her web and began snapping more strands. “For now.”
“I don’t suppose you saw someone fly past?” Discord asked. “I was chasing after them. Fast little guy, throwing around power like one of us?”
“I amm not... fast.”
“I didn’t think it was you. Though now that you mention it, it is quite a coincidence that you’re out here.”
“I amm not... fast,” Weaver said again.
“No, I suppose you aren’t.”
“I have seeeen... no one else.”
Heavy stomps and the sound of breaking branches came from the direction Discord had come from. Law appeared, charging through the forest. She leapt, clearing a fallen tree trunk, and her head snapped back as she hit Weaver’s web at full speed. Her legs swung forward, nearly tearing her free, and then she swung back, head and front paws stuck to the sticky strands.
“I amm not... fast,” Weaver said again in self defense.
“What are you doing here?”
“Eaaaating. Hunting. Cannn not... closer. Mortalllls... protected. No matter how tassty.”
“Right, we’re outside the twenty-five mile safe-zone,” Discord said. Twenty-five miles so quickly. Whoever they’d been chasing, he’d really been able to move. And he’d either known where Weaver’s web was, had been able to sense it coming, or had gotten so lucky that even Discord found it hard to believe.
Weaver lowered herself again and began wrapping one of Law’s paws in web.
“Remember last time,” Law said simply. Weaver paused, and then moved away. Law hung limply from the web, catching her breath to break herself free.
“Well, I for one had a wonderful time,” Discord said. “It’s been ages since the three of us got together to do anything.”
“And you believe it was I who attacked the champions?” Nocturne asked some minutes later. Discord had volunteered to collect her, being the only one among them who could teleport long distances, and the four now stood together in Weaver’s clearing.
“Whoever did it was powerful,” Law said. “He or she were in the same league as Discord and Me, and they used magic to hide their true appearance. You weren’t around to protect your champion, but she’s unharmed. She’s the only champion to actually defeat a construct, probably because you sent a weak one after her.”
“Or perhaps she defeated a construct because she’s more powerful than any of the other champions,” Nocturne said. “She is a changeling after all. You forget a few crucial facts, dear sister, first of which is that Trader’s deals are absolute to any who willingly accept them. Even if I could have attacked them, you would all know the moment I had.”
“And she’s not the only one who wasn’t around to protect her champion,” Discord added, jerking a thumb toward Weaver.
“‘Tis true,” Nocturne said. “And Weaver would be better prepared than any of us, I should think.”
“Unnecessary...” Weaver said, not looking up from her work of dismantling the last pieces of her web. “He was nevvver.... At risk.”
“And why not?” Law asked, turning her suspicious look toward the giant spider.
“Another moortal... protected.”
“Ah, that’s right,” Discord said. “Callie’s champion would be close to him. She must have fought two constructs.”
“The point is,” Nocturne said, “you understand Trader’s deals better than any of us. If I could find a way around it, you would know. I am not the one who attacked the champions tonight.”
Law turned her attention back to Nocturne and growled, though it sounded more frustrated than angry. “There aren’t many creatures in the world with that kind of power. Not only that, but it felt familiar.”
“Oh, did you think so too?” Discord asked.
Law nodded. “I’ve felt his magic before. I’m sure of it.”
“Perhaps,” Weaver said, “another iss stronger than... they once were. We had centuries... while you were imprisoned.”
“It really doesn’t matter who they are,” Nocturne said. “Whether they are one of us and somehow acting outside the terms of the contract, or an outsider attempting to interfere, our response will be the same. They are a hunter encroaching on our territory.”
“We’ve already agreed to work together against anyone who’s not on the contract,” Discord said. “I think it’s in all of our best interests to agree, should this intruder target the champions, we’ll protect them, even if they aren’t ours."
“Agreeed,” Weaver said.
“Very well,” Nocturne said. “Not that she needs the help.”
Law gave each of them a skeptical look, but nodded.
*****
The walk to Libiris took forever.
Maybe not forever, Scootaloo thought, but it sure felt that way. Each moment they were in the forest, she felt the tension between her and her friends grow. Thistleroot twitched at each small sound, and she was pretty sure she was going to bruise her ears against her shoulders, she was rubbernecking so much.
The only one who seemed to be in a good mood was Rare Breed. They’d convinced him that the monsters the previous night were a poorly thought out prank by some new friends. A jump scare using sticks and mud and a bit of unicorn levitation. It wasn’t a particularly believable story, but he’d only seen them for a second, and seemed to buy it. He didn’t think anypony was out there, waiting to attack.
Scootaloo envied him.
They made it back to Libiris without incident. One of the caagan was working in the side room on the first floor, and after an impromptu game of charades, understood their request to speak with the Librarian. He arrived several minutes later with Coco and a buck who introduced himself in Equestrian as Mahony. Mahony took Rare Breed and Triplicate aside to process their donations to Libiris, leaving Scootaloo and her friends to talk to the Librarian.
“Have you come with more news of Discord?” The Librarian asked.
“Yeah, we have,” Scootaloo said. She looked back to her friends. Thistleroot gave her a smile while Mimic nodded. They’d already agreed on what to do next.
Scootaloo told the Librarian everything. She started with the Heart of Creation, the treasure sealed inside Libiris, and then she told him about the contract. She told him about the agreement between the eternal spirits to use mortal champions in their search of the heart. And she told him that she and Mimic were two of those champions.
“We’re not going to give the heart to anypony,” Scootaloo said. “I honestly don’t know why they chose us. Mimic doesn’t even like Nocturne. I like Discord, but I don’t really trust him yet. We want to find this heart and make sure nopony gets their hooves on it, and we were hoping you could help us.”
The Librarian was silent for a long few seconds. Scootaloo shifted uncomfortably.
“You three have given me no reason to mistrust you. You have told me what is happening outside these walls, and you did not try to hide your relations to Discord and Nocturne. If not for you, I would not even know what the eternal spirits are searching for.
“What is more, there is a very real possibility that another of these champions will find the heart without our knowledge. I believe someone has entered Libiris without our knowledge. Rooms that should not have been opened in centuries have been disturbed, and a large number of crates are missing from storage. Someone either snuck in through the door undetectable, or else bypassed the entrance entirely.”
“You mean by teleporting or something?” Thistleroot asked.
The Librarian frowned. “Libiris is supposed to be protected from such a thing. One of the eternal spirits might be able to circumvent such a protection, but you said they are unable to enter on their own.”
“Not all of them,” Scootaloo said. “We were attacked last night. Discord tracked down the one behind it, but he got away. Discord said he was as strong as any spirit, but didn’t recognize him. He never signed the contract, so he could come in if he wanted to. The others would stop him, but maybe he did it without their knowing.”
“Then things are worse than I feared. Mortals we could stand against, but none of us would be more than a mild inconvenience to one of the spirits.” He sighed. “I can not promise to give this Heart of Creation to you, should I find it, but I will allow you to search with us.”
He turned his head toward Coco. “You are beginning work on the third greater depository today?” The doe nodded. “Take them with you. They can help. We will make finding the Heart of Creation our highest priority.” He turned back toward them. “I myself will try to learn more about it through the praeteritorium.”
He left, stepping onto the platform before the stairs and vanishing with a word. Coco led them onto it after him.
“Okay, that went well,” Thistleroot said.
Coco nodded and spoke a command word. The platform flashed, a feeling of falling took Scootaloo in the gut, and they were on of the lower platforms that led to the rail system. “Yeah. He doesn’t talk much about personal feelings, but I think he’s taken a liking to you three. He was going to ask for more issues of the Power Ponies when he had a chance.”
“Don’t blame him. That’s a good one,” Thistleroot said. “Your Equestrian is sounding a lot better, by the way. You sound like a natural.”
Coco smiled at that. “So, I guess I should explain what we’re doing. It’s like the Librarian told you last time, Libiris is huge. We’re still mapping it out, because for some reason all the old maps of the place are restricted. For the past year our main jobs have been waking everyone up and sorting through everything. Libiris was sealed earlier than planned, so not everything was accurately catalogued.”
“I’m guessing the greater depositories are those big rooms the Librarian showed us last time,” Mimic said.
Coco nodded. “Yeah. GD1 just holds caagan. The other seven are full of all kinds of things the Archive wanted to preserve. Most of it is art, but there’s some information that doesn’t fit in with the stacks, like carved tablets. I think someone found a big seed vault in one of them. And then there’s a bunch of smaller depositories that are more specialized. Some that just hold the works of a single being. Not much pony work, though.”
Scootaloo groaned. “We’re going to be opening boxes by hoof, aren’t we?”
Coco nodded again, smiling. “By the hundreds.”
*****
Scootaloo had imagined cardboard boxes taped closed and stacked ontop of each other. She was disappointed, but not surprised, to find that things would be more complicated than that. The boxes were wooden, and many were tied closed with twine.
The Heart of Creation wasn’t in the first box Scootaloo opened. She hadn’t really expected it to be, but she’d been hoping their search would be a short one. It wasn’t in the second box either. Or the third.
Or the eighty-sixth. That box contained a set of three urns. Each was painted with a silhouette of a creature. One was a spider, one was a sphinx, and one was some weird bird with a pony head.
“Yay,” she said without any excitement. “More pottery.”
“Right over here,” Coco said, setting down the contents of her own box and marking something on a roll of paper.
“I’ve got this cool bronze sculpture thing over here,” Thistleroot said, holding up a device made of overlapping rings. “Look, it moves.”
“Over there with the early third era inventions. We’ll—” she cut off as green sparks flickered at the tips of her ears. “Lusehk. Hey, will you three be alright for a bit? I’m being called to the front.”
“Yeah,” Scootaloo said. “If we come across anything we can’t figure out, we’ll set it off to the side.”
“Great. I’ll be back.” With that, Coco left the three to continue unpacking.
“I feel like I just moved,” Thistleroot said. “Where are the dishes? Why didn’t we mark them? Oh well, I guess we’ll just eat out.”
Scootaloo chuckled, while Mimic gave him her usual lost look.
“I guess you never had to move in the hives?” Scootaloo asked. “Like, going to live in a new place, far away.”
“Oh. Yes, actually. My brother and I had to, when my parents...” she rolled a hoof rather than finishing the sentence. “There weren’t any boxes, though. I never really owned anything before moving to Canterlot.”
“Fair enough. What about you, Thistleroot? Did you move much?”
“Oh, all the time,” he said. “I think I told you I used to live in Fillydelphia. Before that it was Sire’s Hollow, and before that it was Seaward Shoals. No, Trottingham, and then Seaward.”
“Wow,” Scootaloo said, arching an eyebrow. “You really got around.”
“Yeah,” Thistleroot said, rubbing a hoof against the back of his neck and glancing away. “My dad was a nature writer. Did a lot of travel for it, but didn’t want to split up the family, so we moved basically every time he started a new book.”
“That must have been rough,” Scootaloo said, frowning as she thought back to her own childhood, when she’d first started going to school in Ponyville. She hadn’t known anypony at first. It was terrifying.
Thistleroot shrugged, still looking a little self-conscious. “It was cool, though. He took me out with him during school breaks. That’s actually how I got my cutie mark. It was a relief when I got into Celestia’s school and stopped moving, though. Aw, look at this one.” He held up a large vase with a curved handle on each side. The picture on the front was of two griffons. One was offering a rose to the other.
Scootaloo snorted and rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure the artist actually ever met a griffon. The ones I know aren’t that sappy.”
“Well, I think it’s cute,” Thistleroot said, sticking his tongue out at her. “Mimic agrees with me, right?”
Mimic shrugged and pulled open a new box. “Flowers are pretty, but they just end up wilting.”
Scootaloo nodded. “Getting flowers is nice, but they don’t last long. And it’s kind of unoriginal. I mean...” She gestured toward the thousand year old vase.
“It’s a classic, and the classics never die,” Thistleroot said, gently levitating the vase toward the rest of the pottery. “Unoriginal? How many times have you actually gotten flowers on a date?”
Scootaloo thought about it as she dug into her next box. “Good point. Only twice. Once in high school and then again on my date with Apple Bloom.”
The sound of breaking pottery snagged her attention. Her head snapped up to see Thistleroot and Mimic both staring at her.
“Your what?” They asked in unison.
“My date...” she had told them about that, right? She’d been planning on it, but then Thistleroot had gotten the job offer from the princess... “Oops.”
“I can understand why you would keep that from one of us, but to not share the details with your best gal pal?” Thistleroot asked, hoof coming up to his chest in mock distress. “Shame.”
Scootaloo grinned, already guessing where Thistleroot was going with this. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Mimic.”
“I was talking about me,” Thistleroot said.
Scootaloo chuckled while Mimic rolled her eyes. “So, you two are together?” Mimic asked.
Scootaloo shook her head, the smile dropping. “I think I didn’t mention it before because it was kind of awkward. I guess you both know how I was. Once I was feeling better about everything, I asked her out. Not because I felt like I owed her or anything, but I honestly wanted to see if anything would come of it if I gave it a chance. It didn’t.”
She shrugged. “Apple Bloom understood. I had lunch with her a few days before we left, and nothing seemed different, so, at least I didn’t ruin any friendships or anything.” She tried to put a lighter emphasis on the last part, to make it sound like a joke, but her voice fell flat. A familiar feeling of nerves crept up as she thought about it, but she managed to flatten it. Some habits were hard to break.
“On another note,” Scootaloo said, “maybe we should hide that before Coco comes back.” She pointed toward the vase Thistleroot had dropped, now broken into three large pieces.
Thistleroot looked down, noticing it for the first time, and winced. “Maybe she knows a mending spell?”
*****
Libiris was a mystery that nopony could hope to solve. Everypony living in Greenhaven Grotto had gone to see it at least once. Some groups occasionally planned to make a picnic of it, but were quickly scared off by the unsettling atmosphere that surrounded it.
Libiris was a solid block of stone with no doors or windows. According to the researchers that had been studying it for decades, it was wrapped in the most advanced sealing magic ever discovered. The princesses themselves couldn’t get in.
Ivory Quill pushed against the door and it swung open easily.
That couldn’t be good.
She steeled her nerves and walked through the doorway. A short hall led her into a central room lit by a bright, blue-white light. Two heads looked up as she entered and she froze.
The creatures looked to be made of wood, like timberwolves, but were shaped like bucks. Both were taller than her by a head. One began walking toward her, and she fought the urge to bolt out the door. Star Charmer had mentioned encountering something like this just outside town. It hadn’t hurt her.
“Hello,” she said. “I was told to come here. I brought a book.”
The creature further away spoke. “Dryd fyc Equestrian.”
The other one stopped and turned back. “Y Pony. Mad'c lymm Coco drah.” He started walking toward his friend, pausing to look back at Ivory Quill and jerk his head toward the center of the room. As he did, the points of his antlers flickered with green light. She swallowed and walked to where he’d gestured.
The bucks stood off to the side of the room and waited, talking in low voices. Ivory Quill watched them for a few seconds, wondering what she was supposed to do next, but she’d apparently passed from their attention.
From the center of the room, she could see a large dark circle on the floor, and just past it a spiral staircase leading underground. She took a hesitant step toward it, and one of the bucks cut off mid sentence. She glanced back to see him looking at her again. “Hu. Fyed vun Coco.”
“I have no idea what you're saying,” she said. The buck didn’t answer. “Okay,” she said, pulling her hoof back. “I guess we’ll see what happens.”
She wasn’t waiting long. Another two minutes passed before a shape appeared at the center of the circle with a flash of white light. Ivory Quill jumped in surprise and took a hurried step back.
Another of the wooden deer creatures, this one a doe, turned, saw her, and exchanged a few quick words with the bucks. It then faced her and said, “Hello. My name is Coco. Welcome to Libiris.”
“Oh,” Ivory Quill said. “You speak Equestrian.”
Coco nodded. “You are here to use Libiris?”
“Yes,” Ivory Quill answered. She wasn’t entirely sure what it meant, but Law had told her that Libiris held answers.
“It’s traditional for anyone looking to access the stacks to contribute to Libiris.”
“Will this work?” Ivory Quill asked, reaching into her bag and pulling out a worn textbook. It had been difficult deciding what she would be willing to part with, as Law had suggested, but eventually decided on one of her dad’s old books from law school. It was fairly dated anyway.
“Yes,” Coco said. “Right this way. I’ll get you set up to use Libiris. Oh, wait.” She paused and looked back at Ivory Quill. “Do you mind answering one question, first?”
“No?”
Coco turned toward the bucks. “Etis, oui'na kuut fedr sykel. Yho mea tadaldehk cbammc eh dra Archive?”
The buck that had approached her frowned, and his horns flickered again. After a few seconds he nodded.
“Lycd ed.”
The flickers on his horns solidified into a steady glow. Coco turned back toward Ivory Quill. “Are you a champion for one of the eternal spirits.”
Ivory Quill blinked in surprise. She should have expected something like that, in hindsight, but the question caught her off guard. Coco’s stance changed slightly, as though the doe were expecting trouble.
“No,” Ivory Quill said. “I’m not.” It was technically true. She’d turned Law down, after all.
Coco glanced back toward the buck. The glow from his horns never changed, and after a moment he nodded again. Coco’s posture relaxed. “Okay, good. This way then.”
Fifteen minutes later, Ivory Quill’s book had been seemingly disintegrated and she’d been led to an incredible room filled with bookshelves Coco called the stacks. Every few dozen feet there were enclosures with seats all facing a large rounded crystal.
“A lot of general information is stored in this great big magical construct called the Archive,” Coco explained. “These terminals will let anyone get to that information, even if they aren’t connected to it like us. I’ll set it up to use Equestrian and you can ask it anything you want. If you need anything more specific, it’ll also tell you what books to look in, and you can ask for assistance in finding them.”
“Okay,” Ivory Quill said weakly, still trying to get over what she was seeing. She looked back out over the stacks as Coco set up the terminal. There had to be more books in this room than in all of Canterlot combined.
She was broken out of her stupor by another sound. Voices coming from not that far off. She gave Coco a curious look.
“Other guests,” the doe explained. She pointed.
Ivory Quill could just make out two other ponies across the room and one floor down from her. A brown earth pony and a white unicorn. She didn’t recognize either of them. “Are they those champions you mentioned?”
Coco shook her head. “Just visitors, like you. Was there anything else you needed?”
“No. Thank you for all your help.”
“Happy to help. I should get back to work, though. If you need anything, just instruct the terminal to call me.”
“Okay.” With that, Coco left, leaving Ivory Quill alone with the terminal.
The two ponies down there weren’t champions? That seemed extremely unlikely. She was only there because Law had told her to come.
“Um, is this thing working?”
A cool female voice answered her, “Yes.”
“Oh. Okay. So, I just ask questions?
“Yes.”
Well, might as well give it a shot. “Who are the champions of the eternal spirits?”
“Unknown.”
Ivory Quill frowned. Of course it couldn’t be that easy. Maybe if she came at it from a different direction. “What ponies have gained access to Libiris since it was unsealed?”
“The following pony users have been added to the Archive in the past four hundred fifty six days. Apple Bloom, Rare Breed, Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, Thistleroot, Triplicate.”
Ivory Quill’s brow furrowed. Scootaloo and Thistleroot? Those were the ponies she’d met last night. But she hadn’t heard their third friend’s name. Mimic, wasn’t it? Maybe she was using a made up name, and she was actually called Apple Bloom or something.
Or maybe you need to be more careful when asking your questions, Ivory Quill thought to herself as she rolled her eyes. “Are there any non-ponies that have gained access to Libiris since it was unsealed?”
“Yes.”
“Who are they? Not including the wooden deer that work here.”
“The following non-pony, non-caagan users have been added to the Archive in the past four hundred fifty six days. Mimic, Spike.”
“So, what is Mimic?” Ivory Quill asked, more to herself than the terminal.
“Mimic is a changeling. No other information available.”
“Oh, this just gets better and better,” Ivory Quill muttered under her breath. “Okay, what do you know about the eternal spirit named Law?”
*****
If the voice from the crystal was being honest, it seemed like Law could be trusted.
Law had said there were others after the crystal. Forces that had tried to throw Equestria into despair before. Maybe creatures like Tirek, the centaur that stole all of the magic in Equestria nearly ten years earlier. It was entirely possible that the fate of all of Equestria had been placed squarely on her shoulders.
“List the eternal spirits.”
The crystal was silent for several seconds before responding. “Nine records found.” A list of names appeared on the crystal, written in Equestrian. She didn’t see Tirek on the list, but there were other names she recognized. Names that made the fur on the back of her neck stand on end.
As it turned out, Coco didn’t have a mending spell, though she knew someone who did. The male caagan they’d met earlier in the day showed up a few minutes after she summoned him, gave them a long talk about the priceless nature of the art stored inside Libiris, and then mended it and left. Scootaloo personally thought that most of the stuff they were finding looked just like any other pottery in the world. Mimic didn’t look any more impressed, but Thistleroot looked chagrined enough for the three of them.
From there the work continued, working their way through pottery and more weird bronze sculptures, through several boxes of creepy hippogriff dolls, and into a section full of clothes. Coco helped them throughout the day, when she wasn’t being called off to speak with Rare Breed or help other groups in other areas.
Finally, the growling of Scootaloo’s stomach got her attention, and she snapped out of the zombie-like state of working she’d slumped into. “I think it’s about time we called it a day.”
“Oh, thank Celestia,” Thistleroot said, setting aside a gold trimmed robe with six leg holes. “I didn’t want to be the first pony to say something.”
“Finally,” Mimic said, dropping the white, bedsheet-like garment she’d been moving unceremoniously on the floor. “Tomorrow, we should bring something to eat.”
“Yeah, definitely,” Thistleroot agreed. “We’ll pack some lunches. I wonder if this place has a cafeteria.”
*****
Ivory Quill felt Law’s presence before she could see the sphinx. One moment, she was alone, walking along the path through the forest back toward town, the next, she felt like she was being watched. Before she could do anything about it, or worry that she was about to be attacked again, Law dropped in from above, landing lightly for something so large, and began walking.
“You entered Libiris,” Law said without preamble.
Ivory Quill nodded and began walking again, following after the sphinx. “Yes.”
“And what did you learn?”
“That you were telling the truth. Unless everything I saw inside was some unbelievably elaborate setup, but at this point, that explanation is even less believable,” Ivory Quill said. “And those ponies that came to town are part of this. They’re champions, though I don’t know of who. Mimic is probably working for the changeling queen, but I don’t know about the other two.”
“And have you come to a decision?”
Ivory Quill nodded again. “Yeah. There’s no way I’m going to let somepony like Discord take over Equestria again. I’ll help you.”
*****
“Good morning, Scootaloo,” Rare Breed said. He paused, then glanced at the clock on the far wall. “Well, good afternoon at any rate.”
Scootaloo gave him a half-hearted wave and stifled a yawn.
“I’m surprised. You three are usually up and gone before us.”
“Day off,” Scootaloo answered, making her way into the kitchen. She dug through the pantry and came out with a box of cereal held sideways in her mouth. “Ah fough’ we nee’ed on’.” She grabbed a bowl from a cupboard and poured, then set the box down.
“Hmm, yes,” Rare Breed said, having followed her to the doorway of the kitchen. “I have noticed you three being a little less cheerful the past few days. Our joint research hasn’t been going well on your end, I take it?”
“It’s boring. Especially after you’ve been doing it for eight hours a day.”
“Maybe, but it’s important,” Rare Breed said. “Just think of the history you’re unboxing. The culture. It’s an undertaking any anthropologist would give their right forehoof for.” He shrugged. “Of course, it might be more efficient to just skim some boxes.”
It wouldn’t, Scootaloo thought. For all they knew, the heart was at the bottom of a random box, buried beneath some kid’s thousand year old art project. It was like hiding a needle in a haystack. Not that Rare Breed knew anything about that part, so she just shrugged and opened the fridge. “Darn. We’re out of milk.”
“There’s a store on the way to the post office. I’ll pick some up.”
Scootaloo’s head perked up. “You’re going to the post office?”
“Yes. New camera should be coming today.”
“Do me a favor?” Scootaloo swiped an envelope off the table with her wing and tossed it to Rare Breed in the same motion, then she grabbed the bowl and started eating her dry cereal. Rare Breed caught it and turned it over in his hooves. He arched an eyebrow. “Canterlot Castle?”
“It’s a letter to the princess, telling her what a great job you’re doing learning all about Lego Ventus whatever you call them.”
“Of course it is,” Rare Breed said, rolling his eyes, but he tucked the letter into his vest. “And Lignum Viventum is a classification, not the name of the species.”
Scootaloo gave a noncommittal grunt and then paused halfway through her next bite. “Are you going to name the species?”
“Normally I’d have some say,” Rare Breed said. “Probably the rest of you too, if you wanted to argue that you discovered them first. That’s for non-intelligent species, though. They already have their own name, it seems rude not to use it.” He paused, and then shook his head slowly, a smile spreading across his face. “To think, this is a race of intelligent creatures locked away under ground for a thousand years. An entire culture untouched by modern Equestria. We’re going to be so famous once the book comes out.”
Scootaloo blinked. “Book?”
“Of course. I’ve been workshopping titles. What do you think of ‘Behind Stone Walls, a Species Adrift in Time’?‘Or ‘Rare Breed’s Rare Breeds: the Caagan’?”
Scootaloo couldn’t help but chuckle. “First one’s too wordy.” Somepony was shuffling about on their side of the house. “I’m gonna go grab my friends.”
“Sure.” Rare Breed stepped aside to let her by. “Any plans for your day off?”
Scootaloo nodded. “It’s a small town and they don’t even have a bowling alley, so I had to ask around. A girl named Dawn Flower had a good idea.”
*****
Green Leaf Lake was less than half an hour’s walk South of town, along the road that eventually led toward Las Pegasus, if one followed it for several days.
The trees parted and the lake appeared as they did so. It was set off from the road, the bare, rocky ground sloping gently toward the shore. The water was calm, undisturbed by any wind, and Scootaloo could clearly see the trees reflected in it from the opposite shore, their leaves just beginning to turn from green to red and yellow.
A particularly large tree grew right at the edge of the lake nearest them. Its twisted roots probably made for a good place to sit and look out over the water, and a rope hung from it’s lower branches for anypony more interested in swimming than relaxing. Unfortunately, Scootaloo thought, it was just a little too late in the year to go swimming.
Dawn Flower was already waiting for them, along with Star Charmer and Ivory Quill. She waved, as did Star Charmer.
Ivory Quill looked up from where she stood beside a circle of rocks several feet off and gave them the same suspicious look she’d regarded them with the week before. If anything, she might have even looked less friendly than at the diner, Scootaloo thought. After a moment she turned back to the circle. She was arranging a pile of broken sticks inside the stones, and stuffing dried leaves between them.
Scootaloo swallowed uncomfortably, but tried to keep a smile on her face. Ivory Quill would come around eventually. Even Star Charmer had, after all.
Scootaloo approached. “Hey, girls.”
“Hi,” Dawn Flower answered. “Glad you found the place.”
“Yeah. Thanks for inviting us along.”
“Pretty place,” Thistleroot commented. “I can see why you suggested it.”
“So, we’ve got our stuff over there, if you want to set your bags down.”
Scootaloo walked toward the shore. Just under the large tree to her right were a trio of beach towels spread out beside a pair of saddlebags and a cooler. She shrugged out of her own bags and pulled out their own towels.
After a moment of thought, she put Thistleroot’s bright green towel next to the white one that she guessed was Dawn Flowers, then set Mimic’s and her own beside his. She turned back to the group.
“So, how have you been adjusting to our little town?” Dawn Flower asked Mimic.
“Fine,” Mimic answered.
“That’s good. Meet any new friends?”
“Nope.”
“Okay,” Dawn Flower said, drawing out the word and arching an eyebrow, but then she grinned and turned to join in the small talk that had started between Thistleroot and Star Charmer. Scootaloo sighed and turned back to switch her towel and Mimic’s, moving the changeling to the furthest end. Satisfied, she turned again, and noticed Ivory Quill, studying her.
She offered the earth pony a polite smile. Ivory Quill didn’t return it, but she did turn her attention back to the pile of sticks.
“Setting up a bonfire?” Scootaloo guessed.
“Yes,” Ivory Quill said. “We usually light one when it gets dark.”
“Sounds nice,” Scootaloo said, awkwardly trying to figure out a way to carry on the conversation, or at least to cut it short without seeming rude. Luckily, she was saved the effort.
“Alright,” Dawn flower said, making her way to the bags near her towel. Her horn glowed white and the bag popped open. “We’re here to have fun. Thistleroot, catch.” She bent over the bag and grabbed something from it in her teeth.
“Oh no,” Thistleroot said, turning his body toward her.
Dawn Flower whipped her head around, flinging a frisbee toward him. To his credit, he managed to get his hooves up, but missed the disk entirely. It bounced off his muzzle and landed a few feet away. He fell back onto his haunches with a little, “Oof.”
Dawn Flowers eyes widened. “Sorry.”
“I’m fine,” Thistleroot said, blinking and rubbing the end of his nose. “Just warn me next time.”
“She did,” Scootaloo said with a chuckle, walking over to where the frisbee had fallen. She scooped it up with her wing, transferred it to a hoof, and sent it sailing in an arc toward Star Charmer. Star Charmer, watched it, one hoof coming up, ready.
At the last second, Star Charmer’s ear twitched and her eyes flicked aside for just a moment. She swiped at the disk, but her hoof knocked it high into the air. She grabbed it in a flash of silver blue energy that lasted only a moment, just long enough to tug it toward her, and then caught it and tossed it toward Mimic.
They tossed the frisbee amongst themselves for almost an hour. Scootaloo used her wings to make several impressive catches. After the second, Mimic joined her in the air, and they started trying to one up each other whenever one of the ponies on the ground threw to them.
Thistleroot managed a few catches, and even Ivory Quill relaxed long enough to play.
By the time they were ready to call it quits, everypony was at least smiling. Dawn Flower made her way to the towels, sitting down to look over the lake, and pulled half a dozen bottles of orange juice from the cooler. Scootaloo accepted one and dropped onto her own towel.
Thistleroot flopped onto his own in an unmoving heap, “That was fun, but I’m just gonna lie here and catch my breath, ‘kay?”
Dawn Flower giggled at that and set one of the bottles beside him, then passed out the rest to Star Charmer, Ivory Quill, and Mimic.
“Sure beats opening boxes,” Scootaloo said, twisting off the cap of her bottle and taking a swig.
“You can say that again,” Thistleroot said.
“Boxes?” Star Charmer asked, tilting her head curiously.
Scootaloo nodded, and then paused, her breath slowing. How much did Star Charmer know again? About their original reason for coming, since she’d been the first to encounter the cagaan. But they hadn’t mentioned Libiris, had they? No, as far as any of them knew, it was still sealed. Unless her dad had checked in on it in the past year.
Then again, they’d let Rare Breed and Triplicate know about Libiris, so it wasn’t that much of a secret. Coco had even mentioned getting it set up for others to visit, and that they had precautions to keep the other champions from gaining access.
Learning more about Libiris was Midlight’s whole reason for moving to Greenhaven Grotto. And maybe, if Scootaloo were being completely honest with herself, she might have still felt just a little bit guilty for breaking his wing, even if she wasn’t actually the one to hit him.
“Inside Libiris,” Scootaloo said, finally, against her better judgement. “That’s where those wooden deer creatures came from, and since we were sent here to learn all about them, we’ve basically been going through all their old stuff.”
Thistleroot threw her a look, and she imagined Mimic had a similar reaction on her other side.
“You actually went inside?” Star Charmer asked.
Scootaloo nodded. “We never got a chance to tell anypony, but we got it open last time we were here. And now we’re back to learn all about the guys inside, which mostly means looking at pottery and trying not to fall asleep.”
Star Charmer arched an eyebrow, but a slight grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. “What’s it like inside?”
“Big and quiet, mostly, but they’ve got... You know what, I’m not gonna ruin it. See it for yourself sometime. The deer inside are really nice. They call themselves caagan. A couple of them even speak Equestrian.”
“If you can, talk to Coco,” Thistleroot said. “She’s the nice one.”
Scootaloo gave him a sideways glance.
“What? Mahoney’s scary. You saw him after he had to fix that pot for us. And he has that big bass voice that rumbles the floor when he speaks.”
“It’s a little deeper than average.”
“That’s not how I remember it.”
Scootaloo looked back to Star Charmer, but found the girl staring out over the lake, a small frown on her lips now. “Everything okay?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Just thinking. I mean, I’ve been curious about that place ever since we moved here, and now it’s just opened?”
“I know what you mean,” Dawn Flower said. “What if there’s some kind of super evil monster trapped inside? Or worse, what if it doesn’t live up to the hype?”
“The whole reason you visited last year was to try to get inside. You guys managed to save Equestria from Nocturne, so I guess it’s not so surprising that you managed to do that too.”
“Yep. We’re just that awesome,” Scootaloo said, taking another swig of orange juice. “Uh, maybe don’t go telling the whole town, just yet, though. Give the caagan a little time to adjust.”
“Yeah, okay,” Dawn Flower said. “There were really people living down there all that time? Or were they like, living wooden puppets?”
“They’re pretty similar to Timber Wolves, and not just in appearances,” he said. “They’re alive, but they’ve got metabolisms closer to those of plants. They can live as long as some trees, as far as I know.”
“Wow,” Dawn Flower said. “Oh, it’s starting to get dark. We should get the fire going.”
Ivory Quill wordlessly got up and set about it, taking a little kit from her saddlebags and pulling some flint, steel, and fine tinder from it. As she got the fire going, Star Charmer pulled out a few bags of marshmallows and chocolate bars.
Thistleroot’s eyes lit up when he saw them. He straightened up, his horn glowing with blue magic, and the tree branches above them shivered. A few slender, straight sticks fell to the ground in front of them.
Dawn Flower gave the tree a look, and then turned to Thistleroot, a small smile on her face.
Come on, Thistleroot, Scootaloo thought, don’t mess this up.
Dawn Flower collected the sticks, passed them out, and speared a marshmallow on one. “So, living plants?”
“Well, technically, all plants—”
“All plants are living, yes. Realized it the moment I said it,” Dawn Flower said with a faint sigh. Scootaloo winced.
Thistleroot chuckled, “Sorry, I know what you meant. But yeah. They’re smart, too. At least as smart as ponies. And they can do magic.”
“Like botomancy?”
Thistleroot shook his head. “No. Well, maybe, but I haven’t seen them do it. Most of their magic seems to be more information based. The word caagan in their language literally means knowledge seeker.”
“Do you know any plant magic?” Scootaloo asked.
“Well, I dabble,” Dawn Flower said, giving a playful grin. Hadn’t Thistleroot said something similar when they met her? That had to be a good sign, right?
“Anything you want to show off?” Scootaloo asked.
Dawn Flower shrugged, looking just a little self conscious as everyone watched, but her horn started glowing with a soft white light. She used a hoof to brush her green mane from her face and focused her attention on a point just past the edge of her beach towel.
The ground twitched, and a little, green sprig pushed its way out of the dirt. The stalk grew several inches, the tip budding and blooming into a blue and white, six-petal flower.
“Wow,” Thistleroot said, eyebrows raised in an impressed look of surprise.
“Thistleroot can do that too,” Mimic said.
“Yeah,” Scootaloo added, looking to Mimic and giving the changeling the best “shh” she could manage without actually raising her hoof or making the noise. She turned back to Dawn Flower. “You guys sure do have a lot in common. Watch.” She gestured toward Thistleroot.
“Eheh, um, actually, you know what, maybe not right now.” Thistleroot rubbed a hoof against the back of his neck. “I mean, it would be kind of rude to try to upstage her, right? That was an impressive bit of magic.”
“Or you’re not as good as your friends think you are,” Ivory Quill said, voice uninterested as she pulled a marshmallow from the fire and blew it out.
Dawn Flower waved a hoof toward Ivory Quill in a vaguely dismissive gesture. “Hush.” Scootaloo noticed that her grin was a bit wider than before.
They honestly thought he couldn’t do it, Scootaloo noted, and Dawn Flower was probably feeling pretty good about herself right then. And of course, Thistleroot wasn’t the kind of pony who felt the need to defend his pride. Scootaloo fought back her own smile, and felt a twinge of pride for Thistleroot. He was actually better at this than she’d given him credit for.
“That’s a stargazer lily, right?” Thistleroot asked.
Dawn Flower nodded. “It’s my favorite flower.”
“It’s pretty.”
“It is. Do you know what it represents?”
“Uh,” Thistleroot furrowed his brow. “Wealth? Or innocence? One of the two.”
“Innocence,” Dawn Flower said. “In a lot of different cultures. But around here, there’s a story about this particular kind of lily, how it was a gift from Princess Luna, before she became Nightmare Moon. It was her way of promising to watch out for all the innocent little ponies while they slept.”
“I remember that story,” Star Charmer said. “That was always my favorite lullaby.” Ivory Quill nodded in agreement.
“Lullaby?” Scootaloo asked.
Dawn Flower just sighed as Star Charmer and Ivory Quill focused their attention on her, their marshmallow roasting sticks drooping, forgotten, the two wearing identical, somewhat hopeful smiles.
“There’s a lullaby about the story,” Dawn Flower answered.
“One she made up,” Star Charmer added, drawing another sigh from Dawn Flower.
“You did?” Scootaloo asked. She smiled, and her voice became teasing, “Was it any good?”
“Of course it was,” Star Charmer said.
“Dawn Flower was the best foal-sitter ever. All of her songs were great,” Ivory Quill added, with more enthusiasm than they’d seen from her yet. “But that one was the best.”
That got a surprised blink from Scootaloo. She’d guessed that Dawn Flower was the oldest of the three, and that the other two were several years younger than Scootaloo herself, but she hadn’t realized there was that much of a gap.
“Can we hear it?” Thistleroot asked.
Dawn Flower opened her mouth to answer, but glanced aside to her friends. Star Charmer and Ivory Quill were both leaning in, pouts and big, watery, puppy-dog eyes firmly in place. “Fine.”
Scootaloo settled down to listen, and without much preamble, Dawn Flower started singing. Her singing voice was much like her speaking voice: light and full of barely contained laughter. There was something more to it, though. At times, a certain sense of sadness, maybe, that fit the tone of the lullaby, giving it depth. Even though the song itself had nothing to do with Nightmare Moon, listening to Dawn Flower sing, Scootaloo was reminded of Luna’s own tragic story.
“When the day, comes to an end And all is cast, in silver light Rest, now child, close your eyes Sleep, dear child, and goodnight”
The singing settled over the shore of the lake, now otherwise silent but for it and the crackling of the fire. Dawn Flower sang about the night, and darkness, and the creatures that lived in it, and about promises to watch over the little fillies and colts, until morning came.
“Come the dawn, I'm still with you So don't you worry, don't you fear Rest, now child, time to sleep Dream, dear child, I'll be here”
Silence fell when she finished, broken after a moment by Thistleroot. “Aw, that was beautiful.”
“My favorite story. And flower.”
“Oh, oh,” Star Charmer said. “Do the one about the—”
“No,” Dawn Flower chided, drawing the word out. “I’m not your foalsitter any more. And even if I was, you remember the rule. One per night.”
Star Charmer grinned, picked up her stick and speared another marshmallow, and settled in front of the fire again. Scootaloo yawned and closed her eyes, resting her head. She heard Mimic beside her, absentmindedly humming the tune they’d just heard.
*****
Law watched the ponies of the little town settle in for the night. Few were out this late, even on the main streets, and those that were didn’t give her a second glance, as usual.
Progress had been going more slowly than she’d hoped, but there wasn’t much she could do about that. Her champion had gained access to Libiris, but she wasn’t welcome to just go wandering about.
It seemed the other champions had turned the Archive’s creations to their side. Ivory Quill had managed to get inside once, through luck more than anything. The caagan girl had taken to asking if visitors were champions, no doubt with some form of lie detecting divinations. Depending on what lies Discord’s champions had been telling them, they might do away with Ivory Quill if they found out the truth, and there was no way for Law to protect her inside Libiris.
After thinking on the problem for a week, she still hadn’t come up with a tasteful solution, and she was running out of time. She might have to rely on Trader, after all. The thought nearly made her growl in frustration, and she could feel a phantom headache coming on, one to surely become the real thing if she involved him
A pegasus mare was approaching, walking up the street with the unsteady gait of someone who’s had one too many drinks. Her coat was a garish rusty red spotted with white wings. Her mane was short and windswept, and she carried a metal flask under her wing.
Law paid the mare no mind. Her attention was on the task ahead. Each day that passed was one more day Discord’s and Nocturne’s champions could find the heart.
The drunk mare had drawn even with Law and was turning to reach for the flask under her wing when she paused. She tilted her head, blinking slowly a few times in Law’s direction.
Law arched an eyebrow and turned, looking over her shoulder. Nothing stood out. She turned to face the pony again. “Are you looking at me?”
“Yesh,” the mare said simply.
Interesting. Another pony capable of noticing her. She’d certainly never been noticed by somepony who was staggering home drunk.
“What are you supposed to be?” the mare demanded.
“A sphinx,” Law answered simply. She briefly considered speaking further, but dismissed the idea. She already had herself a much more suitable champion, and little else mattered right now.
“Neat,” the mare said. She unfolded her wing and offered the flask to Law. “Want some?”
“I do not.”
The mare shrugged. “More for me.” She lifted her back leg toward the flask, nearly lost her balance, and planted the leg again with a frown. She raised her front hoof and began unscrewing the flask. “Darn body has too many limbs.”
Law barely registered the words as her mind was turning back to her newest problem. A second later, the mare got the flask open. Law could just make out the faint smell of wine as the mare drank. It wasn’t the cheap, harsh wine she’d expected. It was sweet, but not sickly so. The bouquet. The smell of wine was called the bouquet. And the one who’d taught her that...
“Too many limbs?” Law asked, frowning. Her eyes narrowed and she swiped toward the mare with a massive paw, knocking the flask to the ground. Expensive wine poured out onto the dirt road.
“Spoilshport,” the mare said, looking down at the wine sadly.
“I don’t appreciate being made a fool, Sybaris.”
Sybaris smiled, eyes narrowing. “Well, I ain’t the one who made you a fool. I ain’t the one who made you at all.”
Law breathed out through her nose, closing her eyes. The phantom headache edged closer to reality. “So, you’re finally here.”
“Yup,” Sybaris said, lifting the flask to her lips. No, not the same one, Law noticed. The first was still where she’d smacked it to the ground. She had no idea where the second flask came from. Sybaris finished a large swig and smacked her lips.
“You’re the last one to arrive,” Law said. “And the only one to not yet have a champion chosen. You’re running behind, as usual.”
“You find the heart?”
“Not yet.”
“Then we’re still even, so shut it.” The drunk pegasus turned, taking in the little town of Greenhaven Grotto. “Like you said, we’re finally all here. Time to get the real party started.”
The draconequus winced at the sound of the voice and shoved the can of spray paint behind his back. He took a step to the left, hiding the grand, gold-framed oil painting of Princess Celestia from view. “Celestia! What a pleasant surprise!”
The alicorn princess was marching down the hall toward him, face set in stony anger. A scroll of paper floated in the air beside her. “Do you know what this is?” Discord began to reply, but Celestia talked over him. “It’s a letter. From Scootaloo.”
The feigned innocence Discord had been presenting faltered, and he said, voice deadpan, “Huh. I was wondering when she’d get around to sending one.”
“Explain. Now.”
Discord grinned, grabbed the paint can with his tail to free up his talons, and snapped. A moment later, Celestia was seated back in the study she’d just come from, Discord lounging in the air across from her.
“So, how much did she tell you?” Discord asked.
Celestia looked over the letter again and answered. Scootaloo had talked about looking for an ancient artifact, though she’d left out the specifics. She didn’t want to risk somepony else finding the letter, and she figured Discord would have already told the princess about it, or would once Celestia pushed him.
And Celestia was ready to push. Scootaloo’s letter had included details of an attack from some magical constructs. One of her little ponies was in danger, and Celestia was prepared to get answers from Discord no matter what kind of distractions or smoke screens he gave her.
“Well, I suppose I should start from the beginning,” Discord said, to Celestia’s immense surprise. And he did, explaining what was inside Libiris, what Scootaloo was searching for, and why he needed her rather than doing it himself.
“You signed a contract?” Celestia asked when he was finished.
“Why is that the part that surprises everypony the most?”
“Because, you’re Discord,” Celestia said.
“And signing the contract was clearly unexpected of me, so nopony should be that surprised.”
Celestia hesitated, considering for a moment if Discord’s logic worked, and then decided it would be best not to think about it. Down that path lay madness. “If this heart is so important, you should have come to me sooner. I can get to Greenhaven Grotto by noon today if I hurry.”
“Hmm? Oh, I wouldn’t bother doing that.” Discord snapped his talons and a scroll of paper unfurled in the air in front of Celestia. “Section seven, subsection three.”
Celestia’s eyes scanned the page, finding the appropriate paragraph. She read along silently until she reached the end. “...and to act against any immortal that has not signed this contract in the case of that immortal attempting enter the building known as Libiris.”
“You can’t help her,” Discord said. “This is something she’ll have to do with her friends, without either of us.”
Celestia continued reading, her expression growing more concerned with each passing minute. “Why? Why would you set this game up like this? If you wanted the heart, why not find it yourself.”
“You know, Scootaloo asked me the same question,” Discord said. “If I went up against the other spirits, they’d work together. I wouldn’t stand a chance. It’s only practical.”
Celestia frowned. It was a perfectly logical explanation. It made sense. “What’s the real reason?”
Discord grinned. “I’ve taken over Equestria three times now. None of those were very long, but it was enough to see what would happen. I know what I would do with the Heart of Creation. And even you must think a story is boring when you know how it ends.”
“You don’t want it at all, do you?” Celestia asked. “You want Scootaloo to find it and use it herself. You want to see what will happen.”
“I’ve wondered,” Discord said, “what might have happened if Scootaloo and I had managed to see eye to eye. If she’d taken me up on my offer and become a queen of Equestria. I already know what happens if I rule the world. This is going to be much more interesting.”
*****
The sound of metal clattering against stone shook Scootaloo from her work. They’d been unpacking dishes of all things, most of the plates in the old crates indistinguishable from the fancy dishes in Rarity’s cupboard that nopony was ever allowed to use.
She looked to Thistleroot and Mimic, eyebrow raised. The noise had come from nearby, but not the same unit they were unpacking.
It was probably just one of the Caagan, Coco or another they hadn’t met yet, taking part in the search. But, they were generally more careful than that. Scootaloo had never seen Coco even come close to dropping something.
The sound came again, this time with an accompaniment of broken glass and a very faint voice, “Whoops.”
Scootaloo left the large shed-like room they’d been unpacking, moving into the much larger cavernous space of greater depository three. Another of the sheds stood open across from them, though it had been closed when they started. The sound of glass shifting over stone came from the open door.
“One of the champions?” Thistleroot suggested under his breath?
“Only one way to find out,” Mimic said.
Scootaloo nodded, and together they crept forward. Scootaloo leaned against the wall outside the open door and peeked inside.
An earth pony stallion stood a dozen feet away, beside an overturned crate. He gingerly shifted through a small smattering of broken pottery with one hoof. “What a waste.”
The stallion had a brown coat, several shades lighter than Rare Breed’s, and a short gray mane swept back out of his face. He had dark golden eyes like old, tarnished bits, and a few dark spots high on his cheeks. He wore a vest, well tailored and expensive looking dark grey pinstripes, and his cutie mark was an unfurled paper and a quill.
Scootaloo shifted away from the door and whispered to her friends, “Earth pony. Older guy. Going through the crates.”
“What should we do?” Thistleroot asked.
“There’s three of us and one of him,” Mimic said. “Maybe we can scare him off without having to hurt him too bad.”
“Or we could let the Librarian know,” Scootaloo said. “He doesn’t want any of the spirits getting the heart any more than we do.”
“What are we whispering about?”
Scootaloo froze, then glanced to her side. Somehow, the earth pony had managed to sneak up on her and was standing between her and Thistleroot, joining them in their huddle.
“Gah!” Thistleroot said, flinching back.
The earth pony chuckled. He spoke again, his voice low, slow, soothing. The word dulcet came to mind, a word Spike had used in one of his descriptions in their O&O games. “Well, hey now. I wasn’t expecting to run into some young ponies down here.”
“Who are you?” Scootaloo demanded, just managing to keep her surprise off her face.
“Me? Oh, nopony important. Just a simple stallion of the world, passing through.” The earth pony had gone back to picking through the overturned crate, and Scootaloo had to step to the side to see him again through the door.
“What are you doing here? This isn’t the kind of place you just pass through.”
The earth pony chuckled. “Don’t worry about me. I’m just looking around. Hmm. This would never sell. What do ya got over there?”
Scootaloo turned to the room they’d been working on to see the pony start picking through the box she’d been unpacking. “Hey!”
“Early centaur-made porcelain. This could fetch a nice price. Plenty of antiquaries up in Canterlot.”
“Hey, you didn’t answer my question,” Scootaloo said, stomping forward. She paused a step later, blinking and looking over her shoulder. “Wait, how did you...?” She looked back at the pony, who was now standing in front of her, a look of polite curiosity on his face.
“You teleported,” Scootaloo said.
“Oh, don’t be absurd,” the pony said. “Earth ponies can’t teleport.” He continued looking through the old plates.
“Right,” Scootaloo said, shaking her head. Of course they couldn’t. She didn’t know what she was thinking... “No! You were right here, just a second ago.”
“Was I?” The pony asked from her left. She turned to glare at him, and he returned the look with a wry smile. There had been no flash of magic, like when Twilight teleported. There’d been no sense of sudden movement. The earth pony’s movement from place to place seemed as natural as if he’d walked.
“You’re not a pony,” Mimic said.
“Sure I am,” he said. “I’m as much a pony as your queen is a changeling. As much as dear old Cinder was a dragon.”
“You’re one of the eternal spirits,” Scootaloo said.
The earth pony lifted a hoof toward Scootaloo in a gesture that seemed to say, “There you go.”
Scootaloo tried to breathe, to keep herself calm, though she could feel her heart start to beat faster. If this pony was the one who sent those dirt monsters after them, there wasn’t much she’d be able to do, and she wasn’t sure Discord would be able to come to their rescue. She shifted a step back, and prepared to greb the whistle he’d given her, now dangling from the same thin chain that held the friendship necklace she shared with the princess. “I thought you couldn’t come in here. The whole reason I’m here is because you all agreed not to look for the Heart of Creation on your own.”
“Right you are,” the pony said. “I can’t look for the heart of creation on my own, but the guy who writes the contract should always be sure to include a few loopholes for himself.”
“What loophole?” Thistleroot asked.
The pony chuckled. “You want me to just tell you something like that? I like your optimism, kid.” He turned and began walking away. “I guess I’ll be seeing you around.”
“Wait. What’s the loophole?” Thistleroot asked again. The pony just chuckled.
“How about a deal?” Scootaloo asked.
The pony paused, and then turned, the corner of his mouth lifting into a faint grin. “Come again?”
“You’re the one who wrote the contract, right? And you were in here looking for stuff to sell. I’m betting that’s your schtick. So, how about a deal. Tell us what the loophole is, and I’ll answer one question of yours.”
The grin blossomed into a full blown smile with a low chuckle. “Well, now you’ve piqued my curiosity.” He walked back over to them. “Maybe I should introduce myself. The name’s Trader, Eternal Spirit of the Deal.”
“Deals? That’s your thing?” Mimic asked. “Kind of scraping the bottom of the barrel, aren’t you?”
“Hey, now,” Trader said. “No need to be rude. Sure, it doesn’t sound as great as feral instinct or knowledge. It’s not showy or flashy, but it’s definitely important. Fundamental, I dare say.”
Scootaloo rolled her eyes. Of course a spirit would say that about whatever he embodied. “Uh-huh.”
“I’m serious,” Trader said, his tone never deviating from the low, soft drawl. “Why, just about everything in your civilization is built upon the foundation of the deal. Goods for goods. Goods for money and money for goods. Money for time. Friendship for friendship. Whether it’s husband and wife trading half their lives to each other, or strangers offering questions for answers, every interaction you’ve ever had with every living creature you’ve ever known has had some aspect of give and take.”
When he put it like that, it sounded a lot more important than she’d thought. Scootaloo had already been thinking of him more as a used carriage salesman than anything like Discord or Nocturne.
Which, Scootaloo realized with a chill, was a fairly dangerous habit to get into. The smiling, laid-back pony in front of her might have seemed friendly, reminding her vaguely of some of the Apple Family, but she couldn’t forget that he might be every bit as dangerous as the other eternal spirits.
“An honest answer for an honest answer?” Trader asked. Scootaloo swallowed, and then nodded. “Alright. It’s a deal.” As he said the last three words, Scootaloo felt something intangible click into place somewhere near her chest.
She considered her next few words very carefully. “What are the details of the loophole in your contract that let you come down here?”
“The rules of the game keep any of us from coming down here to look for the heart,” Trader said. “The contract also prevents any of us from coming down here after we’ve declared a champion. If one of us doesn’t choose a champion, however, they could enter Libiris if they genuinely weren’t searching for the heart. Should a signatory who entered Libiris without a champion come across the heart, they are required to leave it be.”
Scootaloo blinked in surprise. “Wait. You don’t want it? At all?”
“Of course not,” Trader said.
Scootaloo frowned at him, thinking. Could he be lying? She didn’t think so. Something about their deal made her feel on an instinctual level that he had to be honest, at least when answering her first question, and at the same time she knew she physically wouldn’t be able to lie when he asked his own question.
Could it have been a lie of omission? Could he have technically said the truth, while still misleading them?
“You’re thinking it through,” Trader said. “Good. A healthy amount of skepticism can help you out in life. Maybe there’s a loophole to the loophole I didn’t mention?”
“Is there?” Scootaloo asked.
“I’m not looking to rule or conquer,” Trader said. “It’s just not my style.”
“Sure,” Scootaloo said, voice heavy with sarcasm.
Trader shrugged. “Look at what happened to everyone who went after the heart. Turned to stone. Locked in a pocket dimension. Trapped in a hole in space. And while that was happening, I was living like a king among ponies.
“I’d prefer to stay where I am,” he continued. “I provide a valuable service for reasonable fees without doing any ladder climbing. A middle-mare, if you will.”
“Fine,” Scootaloo said, though she still wasn’t entirely sure she believed him. “Ask your question, then.”
Trader chuckled. “Cute. Well, it’s been nice talking, but I should get going.”
“Wait, aren’t you going to ask a question?” Scootaloo asked the empty air where he’d been standing.
Thistleroot blinked in surprise and looked around. “I guess he’s saving it.”
*****
Coco followed the curving hall slowly, eyes alert.
The hall was in the lowest section of Libiris, so far down that it didn’t even have light gems. Instead, Coco navigated by twin points of green light glowing at the tips of her ears.
The hall came to an end, and Coco found herself facing a pair of large stone doors. A control crystal was set into the wall to her right, and she activated it with a twitch of an ear and a flicker of magic.
The doors began to grind open toward her, knocking a thousand years of dust loose as they went. The hall beyond the doors was dark, and, to Coco’s surprise, dank. She could smell a faint mildew. The stone floor changed at the doors’ threshold, from carved blue-white to dark, stony earth. The walls beyond the doorway were no longer even, but jagged.
Coco blinked in surprise, and after a moment of deliberation, made her way into the natural cave at the bottom of Libiris.
“If I was a betting pony,” Thistleroot said. They stood with Coco and the Librarian deep within Libiris, facing a large doorway. The smooth halls fell way to natural caves beyond. “Yeah. There’s no way it isn’t down there.”
“Good to know we’ve been wasting our time,” Mimic said with a huff.
“It hasn’t been a complete waste of time,” Coco said. “All of that stuff has to be unpacked eventually.” She gave a cheery smile, which Mimic replied to with a flat look.
“Well, might as well check it out,” Scootaloo said, keeping her own agitation from her voice.
The Librarian nodded. “Lead the way, little one.”
Coco walked forward, and the group followed. “I didn’t go very far. Just to the first intersection. The path splits three ways up ahead.” She looked back as she spoke, and didn’t notice a faint light glow into existence ahead of her.
Scootaloo stopped as it appeared, rocking back on her hooves, wings flaring enough that she could take off at a moment’s notice.
“Watch out!” Thistleroot called a moment too late, hoof coming up to try to get her attention. The light coalesced into a semi-transparent wall directly in front of the caagan. Coco walked into the wall as it formed, passing through it without issue.
Thistleroot’s hoof dropped “...Or not.”
Coco blinked and frowned, turning her body back toward the newly formed wall. It was thin and solid looking, like faintly stained glass. She put one hoof gingerly back through it, then stepped through it again. “This wasn’t here last time.” She looked up to the Librarian.
“I’m not sure what it is,” he answered slowly, tilting his head to the side. “It looks to be part of Libiris’s composition, in aesthetic at least.”
Scootaloo relaxed, folding her wings against her back again and rolling her shoulders. She glanced at Thistleroot and Mimic. Fortunately, neither of them seemed to have noticed her jump.
“This place is terrible for my nerves,” Thistleroot said. “Well, it didn’t disintegrate Coco, so I’m guessing it’s not some kind of magical death trap,” He strode forward. “Maybe it’s some kind of security scanner. You know, to keep the spirits—” Whatever he was about to say was cut off as he walked muzzle first into the wall and bounced off. He landed on his haunches with a little, “oof.”
Scootaloo chuckled and stepped up beside him. She carefully felt out toward the wall. Her hoof pressed against it and met resistance. It was cool and smooth to the touch. She pulled back and gave it a sharp smack, but it didn’t break. “Eh, worth a shot.”
“I guess only caagan can get through,” Thistleroot said, rubbing his nose gingerly. “Like some kind of magical ‘Employees only’ sign.”
“This is getting old,” Mimic said.
The Librarian stepped forward. “Coco and I will go forward then. You are welcome to wait here, or return to—” He cut off as his face smacked into the wall of light. He didn’t fall as Thistleroot did, but took a surprised step back and paused, blinking twice in confusion. After a moment, his mouth twisted in a scowl that was more offended than anything.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Scootaloo said, watching as the Librarian pressed his hoof against the wall without effect. She reared back and struck the wall with both front hooves, but it didn’t give. She sighed. “Come on. Every time Rainbow Dash and her friends have to save the world, it’s done in an afternoon. We’ve been here for two weeks already.” She gave the wall another half-hearted shove.
“Maybe Discord or Nocturne will know about this.” Thistleroot suggested.
“Then why didn’t they say anything?” Scootaloo asked.
“Because they’re Discord and Nocturne,” Mimic said, venom creeping into her voice as she said the changeling queen’s name. She walked up beside Scootaloo and swung her own front hooves at the wall in a half-hearted swipe of frustration.
Her hooves passed through the wall, and she landed on her belly with a surprised ‘oof’ of her own.
There was a brief pause before Thistleroot spoke. “Okay. I am thoroughly confused now.”
Mimic stood up and stepped forward, through the wall. “Uh, yes. Same.”
“That is unexpected,” The Librarian said, testing the wall with his own hoof again. It still wouldn’t give.
“Maybe it’s because changelings and cagaan are similar,” Thistleroot said. “One was made by the Archive, the other by Nocturne.”
“But the Librarian is a cagaan,” Scootaloo said. “Aren’t you?”
“As far as I am aware,” The Librarian said, brow furrowed.
“Then I got nothing,” Thistleroot said.
“What about ponies?” Scootaloo asked. “We weren’t made by any of the eternal spirits, were we?”
“No,” The Librarian said, shaking his head. He paused. “Not like the changelings. Not more so than anything else walking this planet.”
“What’s that mean?”
“That the genesis of your species is the same as many others, and is nothing worth worrying over.”
Scootaloo gave him a dubious look, and made a mental note to push the issue later. “So, what now?”
“I can go,” Mimic said. “If the heart is down here, me and Coco might be able to find it today.”
Scootaloo frowned, and after a moment of thought, shook her head. “No. We don’t know what might be down there.” She looked at the Librarian. “You’re going to try to figure out how to get past this wall, right?”
“Yes,” He said, simply.
“Then we’ll wait. I’d feel safer if we went with you.”
“I can handle myself,” Mimic said.
“We know,” Thistleroot said. “Nopony in their right mind would question that you can take care of yourself, but the point of having friends is that you don’t have to.”
“Yeah,” Scootaloo said. “It’s not like any of the other champions have been getting into Libiris. Right?” She directed the last question toward the Librarian.
The Librarian frowned. “I wish I could say with certainty. I told you before, some rooms that should not have been opened yet have shown signs of being disturbed.”
Scootaloo frowned. “Okay, but even if they found a way inside, this wall would stop them.”
“Maybe,” Mimic said. “Or...” She waved a hoof through the wall, then shook her head. “I’ll just check it out. Give me a few minutes.” She turned to walk away.
“Mimic, hold on,” Scootaloo called after her. “We should do it together.” The changeling kept walking. “Darn it.”
“Go with her, Coco,” The Librarian said. Coco nodded and trotted to catch up with Mimic.
“Just be careful down there,” Thistleroot called. He added in a quiet mutter, “Stubborn, hot-headed, crazy—” He caught Scootaloo’s eye. “Uh, not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
Scootaloo chuckled and sat down. “Guess we’ve got a few minutes to kill.”
“Yeah.” Thistleroot looked up to the Librarian. “So, uh. About those lessons we talked about last year?”
*****
“The intersection I mentioned is just up ahead,” Coco said, leading the way. The tips of her ears glowed with magic, casting the tunnel ahead of them with flickering green light.
“So, you don’t know anything about this cave?” Mimic asked.
Coco shook her head. “This is the lowest we’ve come since waking up last year.” She frowned. “I don’t think we’re going to find it today. If it splits up again even further, we could have a dozen paths to explore. Your friends are right. It would be smart to do this with more of us.”
“I thought you wanted this heart found quickly,” Mimic said, her voice sharper than she meant. “It’s your home that everyone is going to be looking through.”
“I do,” Coco said. “I just,” she looked around. “I don’t like it down here. I can’t feel the archive. I don’t think this cave is part of Libiris.”
“It’ll be fine,” Mimic said, trying to make her voice softer. Judging by Coco’s reaction, she wasn’t very successful. “Everyone wants to wait and be careful. We’re not going to get anything done that way.” Ahead of them, the cave split into three paths. Each vanished into darkness a few dozen feet from Coco’s light spell. “Left, right, or center?”
“None,” Coco said. “Let’s go back.”
Mimic gritted her teeth in frustration, but managed to keep herself from growling, barely. “Just wait here. I’ll be right back.” She started down the center path, her pony form melting away as she walked. Her horn lit with green fire.
“Mimic!” Coco called, taking a hesitant step forward, and the stopping.
“Just let me take a look,” Mimic called back. She shook her head and kept walking.
How did they expect to find the Heart of Creation if no one was going to look? With any luck, she’d find it now. They could hand it off to the Librarian who’d probably just make a bigger, safer library with it. Or maybe Scootaloo would want to take it to Princess Celestia. That seemed more likely, if she could manage it. Mimic didn’t care either way, as long as neither Nocturne nor Discord got it. And then she could go back to Canterlot with her friends.
Mimic’s thoughts were interrupted when she noticed a light in the cave ahead. She extinguished the fire around her horn and crept forward. She could suddenly feel her heart hammering in her chest with excitement. Hadn’t the heart been glowing in the image Discord had shown them?
Not like this, she realized. The glow from the heart had been a slowly pulsing pink. This light was flickering like fire, and it was the yellow-white light of a normal candle. As she moved forward, she could see a four-legged figure. A pony, with a light orange coat spotted with white. He stood at another four way intersection in the cave, a quill held his mouth as he marked a paper lying at his hooves.
He’s mapping out the caverns, Mimic realized. This must be one of the other champions!
The pony set his quill down and looked in her direction. “Oh, finally. I—” He cut off, blinking, and took a startled step back.
Mimic moved, making a split second choice and diving toward the paper he’d been writing on. She crossed most of the distance between them before he could recover, but he snapped the paper up with his mouth and turned to run. She followed, wings buzzing to push her faster.
The pony took two long strides and stopped, balancing his weight on his front hooves. Mimic’s breath caught and tried to stop herself, realizing a moment too late what was about to happen. The pony threw his hind legs out, and Mimic’s speed carried her into the buck. Her head snapped back as his hooves hit her on her cheek and shoulder, and the world exploded into ringing, disjointed noise.
She felt the cold ground under her left side. She tried in vain for a few seconds to focus her eyes. Finally, she pushed herself up, shaking her head, and moved forward into the intersection. Her stomach twisted with horrible nausea and she nearly fell again, but she pushed her way forward, teeth bared. The pony was out of sight now. If she hurried, maybe she could find him again and...
She stopped, the scattered pieces of her brain pulling themselves back together. What was she going to do? She didn’t even see which path the pony had gone down. She forced herself to breath and shove back the sudden adrenaline that was shaking her body.
She should go back. She should tell her friends what had happened. The pony’s presence in the caves changed things. She would—
A fearful cry came from the tunnel behind her.
It took her rattled brain a moment to place the voice. “Coco!” She wheeled around. The pony must have gone down the path she’d come from. She lurched forward, back through the intersection. The sudden movement caused her stomach to twist again. He eyes blurred and she slammed into the wall, but managed to keep moving forward.
Her stride lengthened into a run and she hurtled down the path in a panicked run toward the scream, green fire lighting her way. The next intersection was only a few hundred feet away, and she made it in less than a minute. There was no sign of Coco or the pony. “Coco?”
She probably ran for the others when she saw him coming toward her, Mimic thought. She blinked, trying to clear the fog from her head. Her ears were still ringing with the blow. Hadn’t there been three paths, before? Four, counting the one they’d come from? Mimic ignored the thought and continued forward, trusting her well honed sense of direction over the confused thoughts her rattled brain was trying to piece together.
As she passed into the intersection, the sense of twisting nausea nearly caused her to careen into the wall again. She came to an uncertain halt and turned to look back at the intersection. Directly across from her was a solid stone wall. The tunnel continued to her right and left.
That wasn’t right. She’d walked straight across, hadn’t she? There wasn’t time for that. She turned and started walking again. “Coco!”
No answer came. After a few hundred feet, she came to another intersection, this one with three branching paths, and once again as she crossed it her stomach twisted with nausea and her vision blurred.
She turned back, panting in exhaustion. Something was horribly wrong about this place. She was sure of that now. Her sense of direction had always been a valuable asset to her as a gatherer. She knew without a doubt she should have made it back to the others by now.
Her horn flared and a bolt of fire scorched the ground at her hooves. She steeled herself and crossed the intersection again. The horrible sensation hit her, and then she was across. She turned and scanned the other paths.
The scorch mark from her blast was not across from her, but to her right.
“No,” she said, realization finally dawning on her. “No, no, no.” She crossed the intersection and turned. The scorch mark was across from her, when it should have been on her left.
It was some kind of maze. Another way that the Archive had protected the heart, or whatever else might be down there. Mimic realized with a jolt of horror that she was lost, separated from her friends, and from Coco. Coco, who’d been waiting for her despite the caagan’s protests and obvious discomfort.
Mimic closed her eyes and forced herself to breath. She wasn’t going to be able to help anyone if she panicked. It was just a puzzle. She was good at puzzles.
She bent her head and her horn flared again. She scorched a large, clumsy ‘1’ at the center of her current path. “I can do this.”
Mimic gritted her teeth, squared her shoulders, and launched another blast of changeling fire at the wall that barred her path. The emerald flames scattered across the stone relief of some long gone griffon king without effect.
Mimic growled in frustration and sat to catch her breath.
She’d managed to figure out the intersections that turned her around, but she didn’t know which direction she’d originally come from. She’d had to pick a direction and start moving, but whatever magic had confused her was only the beginning. She’d come across three walls now, each made of smooth stone and obviously separate from the tunnels they were found in. She’d thought that meant the tunnels continued on the other side, but nothing she tried had let her force her way through.
Her horn flared with magic and she sent another haphazard bolt at the door. It scattered across the stone once again.
“I don’t think that’s working.”
Mimic’s heart jolted and she surged to her hooves, the fire from her last attack flaring again before it could fully fade. She turned, looking for the sound of the voice.
A griffon stood in the cave behind her, leaning nonchalantly against the wall, one foreleg propped up. He was tall, but lean for a griffon. The tip of Mimic’s horn was even with the base of his neck. His head was a dark slate gray, almost black, while most of his body was a bit lighter.
“Maybe you should try blasting it again,” the griffon said. “I bet the Heart of Creation is right on the other side.” The griffon pushed off the wall and stepped forward.
Mimic backed away and crouched forward into a ready stance. The griffon quirked an eyebrow and raised his taloned forelegs in a placating gesture. “Hey, if I was gonna come at you, it would have been when your back was turned.”
Mimic frowned, but relaxed her posture. Her horn dimmed until it was just bright enough to light the room. “I guess. Who are you?”
“A filly scout,” the griffon said. “I’m here to sell cookies so my troupe can go to Vanhoover. Do you want to buy so— Who do you think? I’m one of the guys looking for the heart, same as you, I’m guessing. Any other dumb questions?”
Mimic narrowed her eyes as her horn brightened.
“Alright, alright, straight to the point then. You’re the first other champion I’ve met, and I’m not invested enough in this whole thing to go attacking strangers, so I thought we could talk instead. Maybe compare notes on this freaky fun house down here.”
“Freaky fun house?”
“Yeah. You haven’t been in these caves very long, have you?”
Mimic shook her head. “A few hours now.”
“Well, whoever hid the heart down here wanted to be sure no one ever found it. There’s all kinds of magic junk to turn you around. The caves in that direction swap places when you’re not looking, and you already found these doors. I’m pretty sure there’s some kind of keys to them, but I’m not sure where.”
“Another continent, if he was smart,” Mimic said, looking back up to the doors.
“Yeah, probably. So, maybe we help each other out. Get through this place, and then once we get to the end, well...” The griffon shrugged. “That plays out how it plays out, right?”
“Uhuh,” Mimic said.
The griffon shrugged. “Hey, I’m not gonna pretend to be your friend or anything, and I’m not asking you to trust me. We both know what we’re here for, but these caves are lame. The sooner someone figures them out and I can never come down here again, the better.”
Mimic hesitated, and almost turned away, but another thought came to mind. How had this griffon entered Libiris without the caagan noticing? Not just entered the building, but found his way into the deepest caves. And by the sound of it, he’d been doing it for days or weeks.
“Fine,” Mimic said.
“Great,” the griffon said. “So, which spirit are you working for?”
“You’re the one who wanted to talk. You first.”
The griffon waved a few talons in a vaguely dismissive gesture.
“Because if you tell me, I can ask the one I’m working for all about you,” Mimic said.
The griffon grinned at that. “Worth a shot. Gil.”
“Huh?”
“My name. It’s Gil.”
“Okay,” Mimic said. They paused, a moment of silence stretching between them, and then she started walking back the way they came.
“Okay,” Gil repeated, turning to follow her. “So, you want to go first, or should I?”
I shouldn’t let him know that I’m working with the caagan, Mimic thought. He’s right, we’re not going to trust each other, so I need to keep any advantage I can. If I ask him how he gets past them without their knowing, it’ll raise the question of how I do the same. “I’ll go first.”
“Sure.”
“The caves over in that direction. The ones you said switch places. They don’t.”
“Yeah, they do. Believe me, I’ve gotten lost enough times to know.”
“The intersections have some kind of magic that messes with your sense of balance and turns you around. You think you’re going straight, but actually end up veering to one side. I think there’s some kind of illusion magic to blur the transition, too.”
Gil frowned. “Are you sure?”
Mimic nodded. “When a changeling’s function is decided, their skills for that job are improved by the overseers. Soldiers end up stronger. Infiltrators have their changing magic improved. Stuff like that.”
“Oh? That’s cool.”
“It’s not that cool. It’s mostly just painful. The point is, the queens and their overseers can change us, but it’s all part of our magic. The magic at those intersections interfered with my gatherer magic and threw off my sense of direction. It made me feel sick. Since you never noticed, I’m guessing it’s supposed to be more subtle.”
“Okay, so they don’t mix themselves up. It’s still a pain to find your way around.”
“Not if you mark the ground at each intersection.”
Gil blinked several times before breaking out into a smile. “I knew teaming up with you would be a good idea. Okay, so I guess it’s my turn.”
“How do we get out of here?” Mimic asked.
“The same way you came in. Duh.”
“I don’t know where I came in,” Mimic said. “That magic messed with my sense of direction, remember? So, for your turn, I want you to show me the way out. It’s getting late anyway.”
“Alright, fair enough,” Gil said. “I was getting ready to call it a day anyway.” Mimic fell back and Gil took the lead.
*****
The path Gil and Mimic took through the depths was a long, twisting route, and it took them more than an hour to find their way through it. Along the way, Gil showed Mimic markers he’d found and created to point the way.
As they neared the end, some uncomfortable, nagging anxiety began to tug at the back of her mind, but she couldn’t quite put her hoof on what it was. Not until the last few minutes. The path had been on a gentle incline the entire time, but the last few hundred feet were much steeper, enough that she was breathing heavily as they went, climbing as much as walking. The solid stone of the depths gave way to loose rocks and dirt, and Mimic felt the occasional drop of water on her head and wings.
It wasn’t until she was several feet from the exit, that she felt the breeze and realized they were much too high. She followed Gil through the muddied gap between two boulders, under the gnarled roots of a fallen tree, and into the open air of the forest.
There was another way into Libiris. One the caagan couldn’t guard.
“Oh,” Mimic said, turning and taking in her surroundings. “Ponyfeathers.”
*****
“Mimic!” Before she could respond, Scootaloo had thrown herself into a big hug.
“Oh, thank Celestia,” Thistleroot added, joining the hug.
“Okay, yes. That’s enough hugging. Please.”
They backed away and Scootaloo helped Mimic right herself. “Heh, sorry.”
Mimic had disguised herself as one of the caagan to avoid questions, then dropped the disguise once she was inside.After asking around, she’d been led to a small room with one of the crystals that they’d used in the stacks. The crystal looked to be projecting part of a map of Libiris. The Librarian and another of the male caagan were in the room as well.
“What happened?” Scootaloo asked. “Why were you gone so long?”
“Where’s Coco?” Thistleroot added.
Mimic’s stomach writhed at the question. “She never came back?”
“No,” Thistleroot said. “We waited for like, two hours, but nothing happened. We came up here to see if we could learn more about the caves, but there’s no records of them at all.”
The Librarian stepped forward. “What has happened? Why would Coco have returned on her own?”
“Well,” Mimic said, ignoring the guilty twisting of her stomach. “Uh, the details are kind of fuzzy. I took a shot to the head.”
“Are you okay?” Thistleroot asked.
Mimic nodded. “We were attacked by a pony. I think he must have been a champion. He ran away, and then Coco ran. I thought she would have come back.”
“But, how could somepony have gotten down there?” Scootaloo asked.
“There’s another—” Before Mimic could finish, the male caagan said something hard and angry in his own language. The Librarian responded in his own measured voice.
“Uh, can we get that again, but this time in Equestrian?” Thistleroot asked. “Or at least give me time to translate?” He floated a book from his saddlebags and started leafing through it.
“You should be barred from Libiris,” the caagan said, switching to Equestrian.
“Wait, what?” Scootaloo asked.
“Mahoney,” the Librarian said.
“It’s not her fault,” Scootaloo said, voice hard. “Weren’t you listening? Somepony attacked them.”
“If she can be believed.”
“Why would she lie?” Scootaloo asked. “We’re the ones helping you, remember?”
Mahoney turned away from her, toward the Librarian. “Please, Keeper, you have dismissed questions of the ponies before, but this newest turn cannot be ignored. They do not respect what we have gathered here. They destroy what they consider useless.”
“That was an accident, and it happened one time,” Scootaloo said. “Trader did it the second time.”
“They claim that no spirit can enter, but then blame one of them for their misdeeds. Their story is inconsistent, and they offer no proof. We have seen no Discord. No Eternal Spirits at all. You trust them because they have been honest, and believe they have been honest because you trust them. And now the rash actions of one of them led Coco beyond the reach of the Archive. We have no way of knowing what happened to her, no way of communicating with her. How can we know that they don’t seek the Heart of Creation for their own selfish reasons?”
“Hold on a second,” Scootaloo said, stepping forward. “I don’t—”
The Librarian raised a hoof. “Enough.” She hesitated, and then dropped her hoof back to the floor. “Mahoney. I do not believe these ponies mean harm. I do not feel that they have lied to us. Their stories are consistent with events that transpired long before they were born.” He turned toward Scootaloo, Thistleroot, and Mimic. His milky green eyes paused on each of them in turn. “But that is only a feeling. Given the circumstances, I must ask you to leave. Libiris will close until we have found Coco.”
“But what about the heart?” Thistleroot asked.
“It will be found and kept safe,” the Librarian said. “That was always the plan, after all.”
“But...” Thistleroot trailed off before looking at Mimic and Scootaloo.
“Let’s just go,” Mimic said. “We’re not going to be able to change his mind.”
“I am sorry,” the Librarian said. “Mahoney will lead you out.”
“Whatever,” Scootaloo snapped, turning for the door. Thistleroot gave an apologetic smile and left after her, and Mahoney followed him.
Mimic turned, then paused. “Inside the caves are intersections that turn you around. It’s possible that Coco’s just lost down there. I marked as many intersections as I could find. I hope you find her quickly.”
“We will. Thank you.”
Mimic swallowed and shifted toward the door.
“Is there something else?” The Librarian asked.
“...No. No there isn’t.” Mimic ignored the chill in the pit of her stomach and followed after her friends.
